Whispers

  Whispers

  Rosie Goodwin

  Headline (2012)

  Tags: Literary, Fiction

  * * *

  About the Book

  Sometimes the past really does come back to haunt you... The old manor house has stood empty for years, left to rot since the last master of the Fenton family died. Until Jess Beddows steps inside, and feels she has come home. Against her family's wishes, she buys the house, promising to bring it back to life. Upstairs, in an attic room left untouched for a century or more, she finds a journal. It holds the heartbreaking tale of Martha, and of the cruel, entangled lives of the house's servants and masters nearly two hundred years before. As Jess is drawn into their tragedy, the whispers begin. Before long, everything she loves will be threatened by violent emotion and long-kept secrets. Can she survive the echoes from the past?

  Copyright © 2011 Rosemarie Yates

  The right of Rosemarie Yates to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publishers or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.

  First published as an Ebook by Headline Publishing Group in 2011

  All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Cataloguing in Publication Data is available from the British Library

  eISBN : 978 0 7553 8383 2

  HEADLINE PUBLISHING GROUP

  An Hachette UK Company

  338 Euston Road

  London NW1 3BH

  www.headline.co.uk

  www.hachette.co.uk

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  About the Author

  Dedication

  Acknowledgement

  Epigraph

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Epilogue

  Rosie Goodwin has worked in social services for many years. She has children, and lives in Nuneaton with her husband, Trevor, and their three dogs.

  To find out more, go to www.rosiegoodwin.co.uk

  Praise for Rosie Goodwin’s writing:

  ‘Rosie is a born storyteller – she’ll make you cry, she’ll make you laugh, but most of all you’ll care for her characters and lose yourself in her story’ Jeannie Johnson

  ‘Brilliant, a real tissue-box tale, heartrending’ Daily Echo, Bournemouth

  ‘A gifted writer. . . Not only is Goodwin’s characterisation and dialogue compelling, but her descriptive writing is a joy’ Nottingham Evening Post

  This one is for Donna who asked for a ghost story – here it is. Hope you enjoy it. Also for Steve who promotes my books at every opportunity, thank you!

  Love you both xx

  As always, a big thank you to my lovely family for their patience and understanding during the writing of this book. Especially to my long-suffering husband for always making the time for me to write.

  Also, sincerest thanks to the lovely staff at Headline for their unfailing support, not forgetting my copy editor and of course my readers.

  We meet them at the doorway, on the stair, Along the passage they come and go, Impalpable impressions on the air, A sense of something moving to and fro.

  Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, 1807–82

  Prologue

  As the estate agent fumbled with the keys, Jessica Beddows smiled at her husband. Simon was frowning and she could tell that he was less than impressed with what he had seen so far, but she was prepared to look around the house at least. Now that they had come this far it seemed silly not to, to her way of thinking. They had been house-hunting for months, but up until now Simon had picked fault with each one they had viewed. The two girls weren’t looking too happy about it either as they stared around the overgrown courtyard, but Jess was determined to stay positive.

  ‘Come on, you lot,’ she urged, as the harassed estate agent finally located the right key and slipped it into the lock. ‘It might be lovely inside.’

  ‘I did warn you that Stonebridge House has been with another agent and that it has stood empty for some time,’ the estate agent pointed out, already feeling a sale slipping away. ‘Hence the ridiculously low asking price of less than half a million. You need to see the potential here and picture this wonderful property as it could be if it were returned to its former glory, rather than view it as it is now. When the recession has run its course, prices round here are going to rise, and the value of this place will go through the roof.’

  He ushered them all into a large dim hallway.

  ‘Here we are then,’ he said jovially, spreading his hands as if he was about to escort them around Buckingham Palace. ‘The place is quite enormous, as you can see. Would you like me to show you around, or would you rather have a mooch about by yourselves?’

  ‘I think we’d like to explore on our own if you don’t mind,’ Jess told him quickly as she saw Simon wrinkle his nose in distaste. She had to admit the smell of damp was overpowering.

  ‘No problem at all.’ The man backed towards the door again. ‘Take as long as you like. I shall be waiting for you in the car outside.’

  The second he disappeared out of the door, eleven-year-old Josephine skipped ahead and promptly shot off into one of the numerous rooms leading off the hallway. ‘Jo, don’t get going too far,’ Jess warned, then turning back to her other daughter and Simon, she said brightly, ‘Right. Let’s get this show on the road then, shall we?’

  Thirteen-year-old Melanie folded her arms and said, ‘Do we have to?’ She glanced up at the festoons of cobwebs that hung like lace from the ceilings. ‘Ugh. It’s like one of those haunted houses you see in horror films.’

  ‘That’s the problem with you, you watch far too much TV,’ her mother scolded. ‘Now come on, the pair of you.’

  They moved forward, and after pushing a door open they found themselves in the biggest kitchen that Jess had ever seen. It was like stepping back in time. A deep stone sink stood beneath the window overlooking the courtyard, and a large Aga was set into an alcove on the wall facing them. Thick with dust and surrounded by six solidly built chairs, a long table took up the middle of the room. Mel grimaced as she looked at the plate that still stood there. Food had obviously b
een left on it but it had long since crumbled to dust.

  ‘Ugh!’ she shivered. ‘How creepy is that? Someone left their meal there. Did someone die here or something? I bet you any money this place is haunted.’

  ‘Don’t be such a drama queen,’ her mother told her. ‘This kitchen could be wonderful if you’d just open your eyes to it.’

  ‘Yes, it could – if you were willing to spend a small fortune on it,’ Simon grunted. As a builder, he knew the real cost of renovations. ‘This place would be like a bottomless money pit.’

  Jess’s tawny eyes stared coldly back at him. ‘That’s perfectly true, but we have the money to do it now, don’t we?’ She was obviously far more concerned about what her daughters thought of the place than her husband’s opinion of it.

  Simon seemed to deflate like a balloon as he looked away from her without arguing and Jess felt a little ripple of satisfaction. For the first time in the whole of their married life she had the upper hand. Her beloved gran had died and left her with substantial inheritance. Jess’s parents had both been killed in a car crash when she was little more than a baby, and her gran had brought her up from that day on. Jess had never wanted for anything, least of all love, but even she had never realised how much money the old lady had had stashed away in the bank. She could still remember the look of shocked disbelief that had flashed across Simon’s face when the solicitor had read out the will. Gran had never made a secret of the fact that she didn’t like Simon and felt that Jess could have done better for herself, but when Jess became pregnant at eighteen, her gran had begrudgingly given the pair her blessing to marry. And now here was Jessica with more money than she had ever dreamed of, and looking for her ideal home. She set off across the kitchen towards a door in the far wall.

  ‘Look at this,’ she shouted across her shoulder. ‘It’s a storage room and there are some steps here that must lead down to a cellar. How handy would that be, eh?’ She clicked on the light switch at the side of the door and when nothing happened she sighed with disappointment. ‘It looks like the electricity’s off,’ she murmured. ‘And it’s too dark to see anything. Never mind. Let’s go and look at the rest of the place, eh?’

  Simon and Melanie followed her resignedly down the hall. The wallpaper was hanging off the walls and the windows were so dirty that they could barely see anything through them. The next room they came to was an enormous dining room, and once again they found the furniture still in place although it was so shrouded with dust it was impossible to see what it was like.

  ‘It’s probably riddled with woodworm,’ Simon said nastily, as Jess rubbed at the corner of a large sideboard with the sleeve of her cardigan.

  ‘Actually, I think it’s mahogany,’ she replied, ignoring his tone. ‘And I bet it would be quite beautiful if it was polished. It certainly goes with the style of the house.’

  The next room they came to was a large sitting room boasting high sash-cord windows giving wonderful views across the garden.

  ‘Just think, this place has got three whole acres,’ Jess said dreamily as she ran her hand across the original wooden shutters. It was certainly a far cry from the tiny square of lawn they had at the back of the neat semi-detached house in Hinckley where they were living now.

  Simon gazed grumpily out at the tangled mess. Their garden took him half an hour to mow, if that. This lot would need a whole team of gardeners to get it back into any sort of order.

  It was then that they heard Jo’s footsteps pounding up the stairs and Jess smiled. At least someone was enjoying themselves.

  ‘Come on. Let’s take a look at the upstairs. We can come down and see the rest of the rooms down here later,’ she suggested.

  They all trooped up a rather splendid staircase until they came to a galleried landing where they all went off in different directions to explore. There were seven bedrooms in total up there, all of a very reasonable size with high ceilings and elaborate cornices. As Jess stepped into each one her imagination began to run riot. Despite the outdated furniture and the need for total redecoration, she knew that they could be made beautiful. Halfway along one landing was a large bathroom, and Jess grinned when she stepped inside it. It was like walking into a museum! Faded linoleum covered the floor and above the toilet was a cistern from which dangled a tarnished brass chain. She was sure that the bath was quite large enough to swim in, but even so she found she could look beyond its present condition to what it could be like.

  At the end of the landing she entered yet another bedroom and for the first time, she felt a little nervous. The sheets on the bed had been thrown back as if someone had just stepped out of it, and she glanced around half-expecting to see someone standing there. A huge mahogany wardrobe was leaning drunkenly on one wall, with one of the doors gaping open, and inside she found a row of clothes hanging on the rail. They had obviously belonged to a gentleman, from what she could see of them. When she heard footsteps behind her she grinned. ‘Look at these,’ she said, pointing. ‘I wonder if they belonged to the old man who owned the house before it was shut up.’

  She had expected Simon to answer her, but when all remained silent she turned and was surprised to find that she was alone. Thinking she must have imagined it, she moved on to the next room.

  Half an hour later, the family congregated downstairs.

  ‘So,’ Simon said smugly, ‘have you seen enough now? The whole place wants modernising from top to bottom.’

  ‘You’re quite right,’ Jess agreed. ‘And I think we are just the people to do it.’

  ‘Oh Mum, you must be joking.’ Melanie groaned as she stared around at the gloomy interior. ‘The entire place is utterly gross.’

  ‘It is now,’ Jess admitted, ‘but it won’t be when I’ve finished with it. From the second I set foot through the front door I got the feeling . . . I don’t know – it was as if I’d come home somehow.’

  Just then, the estate agent poked his head around the door to ask brightly, ‘So what do you think of it then? It’s a snip for £450,000, isn’t it? I reckon it could be worth a million-plus easily, if it were to be modernised.’

  Ignoring the look of horror on her family’s faces, Jess said, ‘I shall be in touch to make you a cash offer. What’s more, we’d like to move in as soon as possible.’ Somehow she knew that this house had been waiting for her, and some time in the not too distant future, she would restore it to its former glory.

  ‘Here, now, just hold on a minute,’ Simon spluttered. ‘Even if we did buy the place there’s no way we could live in it in this state!’

  ‘Why not?’ Jess asked. ‘Most of the rooms will be quite habitable once they’ve had a good clean and an airing, and we can take our time moving our things in. Our house hasn’t sold yet. When it has, the money we get for it can go towards renovating and refurnishing this place.’

  Simon glanced at the girls and sighed; he knew when he was beaten.

  When they drove away, Jess glanced back at the house for a last look. The sun was shining on the grimy windows, and for no reason that she could explain, her eyes were drawn to one of the attics. Just for a moment, she could have sworn that there had been someone at the window, staring back at her. Probably just a trick of the light, she told herself, and then her mind went into overdrive as she began to plan all the things she wanted to do to Stonebridge House, once it was hers.

  Chapter One

  ‘That’s about the lot then, missus. Would you like to sign here, please?’

  Jess took the paper and pen from the driver of the van and hurriedly scribbled her name. The removal firm she had hired had now shifted all the family’s possessions into the new house and were scurrying about like ants, placing boxes in the rooms Simon was directing them to.

  ‘Thank you very much indeed.’ As she pressed a small bundle of notes into his hand as a bonus the man grinned from ear to ear and doffed his cap.

  ‘That’s very kind o’ you, missus. I hope you’ll be very happy here.’ Secretly he thought the
woman must have taken leave of her senses to move into such a run-down out of the way old place, but he wisely kept his opinion to himself and raced off to get his men together. They had another job to do before they went home that night and he wanted to get it over and done with.

  ‘Right then, I reckon we’ve all earned a cuppa, don’t you?’ Jess said when the removal men had finally driven away. After a while she managed to light one of the gas rings on the outdated cooker and then she moved to the sink to fill the kettle. The tap squealed in protest and suddenly dark water squirted out of it.

  ‘Oh, that’s just great!’ Melanie, who was sitting at the dusty table with her father and sister, sighed dramatically. ‘Now as well as having to live in this dump we’re going to get poisoned as well.’

  ‘Don’t be so silly,’ Jess scolded. ‘The water will run clear in a minute. The cleaners I hired to come in and give the place a bit of a onceover said they had the same problem, but the surveyor has given the thumbs-up on all the services. The taps just haven’t been run in a long while, that’s all. Now stop moaning, Mel, and get the sandwiches I packed out of that basket over there. Then when we’ve eaten and had a hot drink we’ll set to and get your bedrooms sorted out. The old mattresses have already been carried outside and we’ll have your beds made up in no time.’

  Mel glumly did as she was told as Jess attacked the table with a damp cloth. The cleaners had got rid of the worst of the dirt and grime in the rooms they were going to be living in, but she supposed the dust would be settling for some time. Soon they were all tucking into ham sandwiches and packets of crisps. Simon seemed distracted, and so she said, ‘Why don’t you go and have a proper look at the outbuildings when you’ve eaten? You’ve already said they’d be perfect for you to run your business from, and your landlord has been trying to get you out of your yard so he can build a bungalow on it. Just think of the money you’ll be saving, when you have all your stuff on your own premises.’