CHAPTER 4
Back in her room at the ‘Cavalier Hotel’, Grace stood at the window and stared out at the street below her. What had happened that morning in Harry’s pub had frightened her beyond anything she could ever have imagined. She turned and looked at the portrait of Robert Hamilton. A dark shadow appeared to have crossed his face. His lips looked thinner and the muscles of his wide jaw appeared to have tensed. None of this made any sense to Grace. She rubbed her forehead thoughtfully. Was she in the middle of some terrible nightmare? It all felt real enough.
She cast her mind back to the day she had arrived in York. Less than a week ago, she had stood on the platform at York station wondering what her new life would hold. Now she had a job, a comfortable hotel room and at least two new friends - both of whom believed in the ghost of Robert Hamilton. Did she believe in it? Grace still couldn’t be sure. She had certainly grown to know the man, more intimately than she should, thanks in no small part to her recent dreams. In truth she was falling hopelessly in love with him. Real or imagined, Robert Hamilton was stealing her heart and there wasn’t a damn thing Grace could do about it.
A sense of urgency fell over her as she went about her final preparations for bed and the next morning. She glanced curiously over at the portrait.
“Will you fill my dreams tonight, Mr. Hamilton?”
A tiny flutter of expectation ran through her but sanity prevailed and the feeling was quashed. The dreams were idyllic, beautiful and in them she felt loved and safe. But, she reminded herself, they were only dreams. Her emotions were still too raw, her heart too tender to meddle in this nonsense. This man was not real. He was dead. Grace had seen his grave and it was as real as the snow that fell outside her bedroom window.
Sleep beckoned but she refused to give in to it in case he should come to her again. She screamed with the need for him but, in the same breath, was beyond terrified of him.
His presence once more filled the room as sleep claimed her mind. Dare she trust him? Her heart leapt at the thought. She sensed him behind her, moments before she felt his strong arms wrap around her waist. His chest was rising and falling against her back, his breath warm and soft against her ear. She gasped as pleasure rippled through her body at the feel of his touch.
“Why do you haunt me, Robert?” she whispered, to the darkness.
“You are the one that haunts my dreams.”
“I’m frightened, Robert. I don’t understand.”
“No my love, nor do I.”
She had to resist, had to stop this. She fought to end the dream. Her mind clawed to break free, pulling at a thin thread of light that broke through the darkness. But he held her, trembling against him until the light of dawn rose around them.
“You bloody man!” she shouted, lifting the pillow beside her and hurling it at the portrait. It missed and hit the wall, knocking the kettle off the desk as it bounced and fell to the floor. She swung out of bed and grabbed the kettle base that was now hanging from its cable in the wall. She lifted her eyes up to the portrait; sure she had noticed a brief smile. “I swear Robert Hamilton, this isn’t funny. I advise you to wipe that smile off your face now.”
Defeated, she sank onto the bed, lifting her hands to rub at her forehead.
“What the hell am I going to do with you?” she said, staring into his dark eyes. She glanced at her watch. It was getting late and she needed to get ready for work.
Her day passed in a fairly ordinary fashion. Kate chatted incessantly about anything and everything, mercifully managing to avoid the subject of Robert Hamilton.
During one of her frenzied monologues, she invited Grace to her house for what she called a ‘girlie night’ and Grace accepted. She hadn’t had much chance to get to know Kate’s friends at the pub and she certainly wanted to get to know Lisa better. She couldn’t remember the name of the pregnant lady but if she were honest there was something about her that Grace didn’t like and she silently hoped Kate hadn’t invited her tonight. It bothered her that she had taken a disliking to the lady. She couldn’t even remember her name and had spoken little more than two words to the woman. Rose, she liked. Kate talked constantly about her and Grace understood the bond between the two girls. They had grown up together and when Kate’s parents had been killed in a car crash when she was fourteen, Rose’s mother had adopted the girl. Kate’s parents had left her some money which was what had enabled her to start the recruitment agency and buy her house, but she had lived with Rose and her family until she was eighteen. From what Grace could understand Kate had moved out when Rose’s mother had gone missing presumed dead. Some sort of hiking or climbing accident up in Scotland. It was sometimes difficult to follow everything Kate said. She talked incessantly and at times Grace wondered if the girl actually breathed through her ears, or as her Nanna had used to say, ‘had been vaccinated with a gramophone needle’.
As she followed the directions to Kate’s house, Grace hoped Lisa would be there. It bothered her that the lady was suffering and unhappy and Grace wanted desperately to be able to ease her pain. She knew too well the horror of a loveless and abusive marriage. She shuddered as she cast her mind back to the man she had left. I am well rid of you Jack Evans, she thought, lifting her hand to knock on the front door of what she hoped was Kate’s house.
“So where is everyone?” Grace asked, as Kate ushered her into the living room.
“Oh it’s just you and me. I didn’t invite anyone else. Don’t think my other mates will quite get it the same as you will.”
Grace grew uneasy, scanning her eyes around the room for clues.
“Kate I don’t understand. What do you mean? I thought your friends would be here too.”
“Chill out, Grace. I didn’t invite them because they aren’t into all this paranormal stuff.”
“Paranormal? Kate, I don’t know anything about the paranormal,” Grace said, as fear ran up her spine.
“Well it’s not so much paranormal, just that I invited a medium round.”
“A medium?! What on earth made you think I would be interested in seeing a medium?”
“Well I wanted to see one and I didn’t want to do it on my own. I didn’t think you would mind, given that you live with a ghost.”
“OK Kate, this has gone far enough. I don’t live with a ghost. It’s you and Harry that keep telling me I live with a ghost. I don’t believe in ghosts and I think this has all gotten way out of hand. You are both scaring me.”
“Wooo, Grace, take a chill pill, hun. This is just a bit of fun, nothing serious. Don’t see the medium if you don’t want to. No one’s gonna make you.”
“I’m sorry, Kate. I overreacted. It’s just that between you and Harry, ghosts seem to have become a living part of my life. I’m not comfortable with it. I don’t believe in them.”
“You know Grace, for a lady who doesn’t believe in ghosts you sure seem pretty freaked out by them.”
She was right and Grace knew it. If she really didn’t believe in ghosts then none of this would be an issue. She would be sitting here enjoying a glass of wine and having a good laugh. The realization hit her like a bus and she stared open mouthed at her new friend.
“Kate, why did you arrange this?”
“I thought it would be fun and I wanted to see a medium.”
“I don’t believe you,” Grace replied seriously.
“Yeah, alright, you rumbled me. Harry gave me her number this morning. He said you should see her. He knew you wouldn’t go if he told you to so he asked me to set it up. I’ve got to be honest, it seems a bit strange. I mean you only met him on Friday. I know he is a nice guy and all that but this is just a bit weird, even for me. What’s going on, Grace?”
Grace took a deep breath and wondered how much she should tell her new friend. So much of her new life depended on her relationship with Kate. She was her boss and one of only two friends she had. Could she really afford to risk all that by sharing the bizarre events that had become her life in the past few days
?
“I don’t know what is going on. I wish to God I did know, but I just don’t. Kate, I am frightened,” Grace said, as tears welled in her eyes.
Throwing her arms around her, Kate hugged her like a child. Tears rolled down her face as Grace sobbed and hugged her friend back.
“Shhh, hun, it’s OK. I’m here.”
“Kate, I just don’t know what to do. It’s all such a mess.”
“What’s a mess, Grace? Tell me, hun. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong.”
“Him... I mean, Robert Hamilton, the ghost. I don’t know what he is. He is there in my head all the time. Wherever I go he is there. I sleep and he is in my dreams, I come to work and I see his face on the desk, I go to the pub and I see him behind the bar. Then Harry shows me this portrait of him and his wife. Kate, I’m in the portrait, I’m his wife.”
Her boss drew back, her eyes staring fearfully at Grace.
“Oh my God, Grace! Do you know what this means?”
Grace shook her head slowly. As soon as the words had left her mouth she regretted them. She could see it in Kate’s eyes. She had seen it before. The look a person had when they both pitied and feared someone. She had given too much away. Shared too much of herself. Of course her friend thought she was crazy. She thought she was crazy. Was this what schizophrenia felt like? Was that what was wrong with her? Jack had been right all along. She needed help, medication, something to control the delusions and hallucinations.
Grabbing for her handbag she made to leave.
“Kate... I’m sorry. I’ve got to go... I understand if you don’t want me back at work tomorrow.”
“Grace, hold on. What are you doing?”
“I’ve got to go,” Grace said, hurriedly.
“Hold on, please. Don’t go, my friend. We can fix this. I will help you.”
Grace stood, clutching her handbag, staring at Kate.
“I thought you would want me to go.”
“No. Why would I?”
“Because I am insane.”
“That’s a ridiculous notion. What makes you think that?”
“I’m seeing and talking to ghosts.”
Kate smiled and gave a gentle laugh.
“When you put it that way... I guess you do sound a bit touched.”
Grace’s brow curved in a slight frown, her eyes filled with confusion and fear.
“So you do think I’m crazy?”
“No you daft beggar, of course I don’t think you’re crazy. I was joking. Look, Grace, this medium is due any minute. Go upstairs and sort your makeup out. I’ll get us another glass of wine and then you can have a chat with the medium and we’ll see if she can shed any light on all this.”
Grace ran her finger nervously around the rim of the glass. Her friend sat beside her, perched on the edge of the settee, lazily balancing the bowl of the glass between her fingers.
“This is highly irregular. I don’t usually have other people sit in on a reading,” said the thin, wrinkled lady who had seated herself on the only single chair in the room.
“Anything you have to say to Grace you can say to both of us,” said Kate, firmly.
The elderly lady raised her eyebrows at Grace.
“I want her to stay,” Grace said to the medium.
“As you wish, but I can’t be sure of an accurate session. It’s going to throw the vibes right out, you both being here.”
“We’re willing to risk it,” Kate said, irritated with the old lady’s complaints.
The medium pursed her lips and a thin line of disapproval spread over her face. “Highly irregular this is, and don’t you be coming to me later complaining the reading was wrong.”
“We won’t,” both ladies chimed together.
“First grease the palm of an old lady’s hand,” she said, stretching out her hand. Grace reached for her handbag and ferreted clumsily for her purse, but Kate beat her to it, placing two twenty pound notes into the upturned hand.
“There you are old lady, now tell us what you can see,” Kate said, moving back onto the settee beside her friend.
The medium stared at Grace, her eyes shifty and dark. Grace blinked and looked away. The old lady’s searching eyes made her feel uncomfortable. A tension fell over the room as the medium continued to stare at Grace. ‘Enough now,’ she thought to herself as the minutes passed and the woman’s eyes remained fixed on her face.
“Can you see anything,” an impatient Kate asked.
The old woman ignored her.
Irritated, Grace stood up.
“This is nonsense, I’ve had enough.”
“Sit down,” the medium said, in a stern tone.
Grace did as she was told and sat down but wondered why she had. She felt like an animal in an experimental laboratory. She turned her head to her friend and raised her eyebrows.
“If you insist on moving all the time I won’t be able to do my job. The sooner you sit still the sooner I will be done.”
Grace obliged and turned to face the woman.
“You don’t belong here,” the old lady said abruptly. Grace drew a sharp breath. How could this woman know she had left Jack?
“You are married but not to the one whose ring marks your finger.”
Instinctively Grace looked toward her left hand, fearful that she still wore her wedding ring, but she had left it on Jack’s bedside table. Her fingers were bare.
“What do you mean?” Kate asked.
The medium ignored her question again, shaking her head and muttering to herself.
“I told you this wouldn’t work, not with two of you here. This isn’t right, it's all wrong.”
“Just tell us what you can see,” Grace blurted in frustration.
“I can see you in your lover’s arms, but ... beyond that... I’m sorry...”
“Sorry for what?” shouted Kate, “what is going to happen?”
“She will not exist, is no more... that is what ... she is going to die,” the old lady said, clasping her trembling hands together.
Both girls stared in shocked silence at the old woman as she stuffed the twenty pound notes into her bra and rose unsteadily from the chair.
“Don’t call me again until you are prepared to have individual readings,” she said, making her way to the door. Without as much as a goodbye she opened the door and disappeared through it.
Grace lifted her glass to her mouth and drained the content.
“What the hell was that all about?” she asked, turning white-faced toward Kate.
“I am so sorry, Grace. I can’t imagine what Harry was thinking getting you to see her. If I had known she was a nutcase I would never have gone along with it. Take no notice of her, Grace. It was rubbish, all of it. You said yourself you don’t believe in all this.”
Grace rubbed her forehead. She felt emotionally exhausted and engulfed by an ache that filled her whole body with a deep sense of foreboding.
“Kate I think it’s time I went home. It’s getting late and I’ll never be up in the morning if I don’t get to bed soon.”
Her friend rested her hand gently on her shoulder. “Take the day off, Grace. We are on top of things; I will manage just fine tomorrow.”
The moon glistened like a giant ball of crystal in the night sky, illuminating the ancient city as she traced her steps back to her hotel. The hotel manager was sitting at the reception desk, still reading his crime thriller. Grace nodded and smiled politely. His eyes peeped over the top of the book; she didn’t need to see his mouth to know it held a smile.
“Good evening, Mrs. Evans?”
She had hoped he wouldn’t engage her in conversation but, now that he had, she found the sound of his voice reassuring.
“Yes thank you. How’s your book?”
“Oh it’s very good.”
“Great things, books. I don’t know what I would do without them,” Grace said, thinking how utterly lost she would be without her books.
“That they are
. The missus used to say they kept me out of trouble,” he said, with a gentle laugh.
The sound of his laughter lifted her spirits and she felt a smile creep onto her lips.
“Good night, George. Enjoy the rest of your story,” she said, heading for the stairs that would take her to her room.
“Night Mrs. Evans.”
Back in her room she enjoyed a warm shower and a cup of coffee before sliding into bed. Too tired even to read, she kissed the photograph of her daughter and let her head fall heavily onto the pillow. The room was dark save for a tiny thread of moonlight which beamed through a gap in the curtains.
She lay staring at the light, replaying the words of the medium in her mind. What possessed the woman to say a thing like that she had no idea. If she had been trying to scare her, she had done a good job, but even as paranormal entertainment, Grace felt the old lady had gone too far.
As for Harry, she couldn’t work out what he was trying to do. The man had seemed so kind, so eager to help her. It was all starting to look a lot like an old man getting his jollies by playing with other people’s minds. Grace had been here before, experienced firsthand the fear and confusion mind games caused. Jack was a master of them. He had frequently twisted reality to play with her mind. Did she wear a sign with the word ‘Mug’ on her forehead? Was it just a fact of life that some people were born to provide entertainment for others? She didn’t know, but as the hazy fog of sleep swept over her she decided that she would use her day off to find out once and for all who this Robert Hamilton was and what Harry and Kate were up to.
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