Chapter One, Episode 49 - A Storied Past - Situationally Theirs

June 24, 2020
Review, Edit and Update
Detail within sentences in two places was improved - none of it within dialogue. What I have learned over this exercise, is that attention to the details of persons, places, locations or the ambience of a scene is key to showing rather than telling.

A Storied Past

Digby had kept his father’s secret. That is, until the day he answered Emelina’s questions. She had been a young bride, very much in love with young Michael Beaufort. Curious in the flush of new marriage, she wanted to know more about the old house and its history. Digby knew how much young Michael cared for Miss Emelina. ‘Head over heels he is’ ~ Martha and Cook always spoke of Michael as though he were a favourite nephew instead of their employer. James Edward Digby, Mary Elizabeth Saunders and Martha Haverstock had watched him grow from toddler to teenager, teenager to young adult and then a handsome groom ready to take on the responsibilities of the Beaufort Estate. 

Digby Sr. had passed on to Digby the ancient crumbling diary that told of a ghost that drifted through the estate. Different people had seen her in the dining room, laying the table for a dinner for one or sometimes for two. Others had seen her on a swing from the sturdy branch of the ancient redwood in the yard. Digby also knew that she often stood at the dining room window watching as a ghostly wedding ceremony took place beside her swing. The swing that hung from thick cabled ropes and decorated in garlands of flowers. If someone had seen her, they would have seen a smile, her translucent face glowing with joy. Then she would turn to the china cabinet and again, she would lay china and crystal places for two. When she was finished she retuned to the window to watch as ghostly guests gathered, wavering like long silvered grasses in a summer breeze. The flower beds seemed more brightly coloured. Brilliant butterflies dipped and floated. Song birds trilled and warbled. As the wedding party drifted away like thin clouds in a clear blue sky, Sarah floated down from the dining room to return to her garlanded swing. 

~~~~~

Digby waited in the kitchen for Brigitte to arrive. Brigitte would be doing her usual cleaning and dusting of a house that was mostly sitting empty. Pandemic restrictions had merely been eased, allowing Beaufort staff to gather carefully. They were easing themselves slowly back to keeping the estate functional. None of them knew what the final outcome would be for not only the estate,

but for themselves. For today, Digby had one important task to get done. 

“Good morning. Brigitte. How is your health today?” Digby didn’t know quite how to approach the request he had of Brigitte. He had already talked with Giles, who would arrive at lunch time expecting his help to be ready.

“Good morning, Digby. My health is great. Are you well?” That was odd, Digby greeting her in that manner. If he was present, he would always say good morning or afternoon, but seldom did he inquire after her health. 

“Mm……yes…I am well, quite well thank you. I am a bit nervous though.”

“You? Nervous. Is everything all right?” Brigitte put her lunch away in the refrigerator. She brought her water bottle to the table and sat down. 

“I have something to tell you and something to ask of you. Please bear with me.” Digby looked as if he had to spit out his words. He was not a man given to speaking about himself and definitely not asking for help for himself.

“Go ahead. I’m listening.” Now Brigitte was concerned. Did she still have a job? Was he about to tell her that her hours had been shaved? She really couldn’t afford that. Grocery prices had gone up. She was doing more driving, making certain her parents were well stocked. She had tuition coming up for her fall classes. Brigitte had signed up for classes in being a modern day lady’s maid. She was questioning that decision as she watched Mrs. B. change from a helpless, snobby middle aged woman to a middle aged woman, self assured and not quite so uptight. But today she needed to know what Digby had to say, no matter what it was. 

“Brigitte, it’s about tomorrow. Tomorrow as you know, I am having our Staff Meeting in the morning. This is difficult for me so I might as well just say it. I’m taking Martha to lunch tomorrow. No, I didn’t say that correctly. Martha and I are going on a picnic, but it will be a surprise for Martha.”

Brigitte was digging her nails into her thighs to keep from laughing. She had never seen Digby so nervous. This had nothing to do with her. He was sweet on Martha. Everyone knew it ~ except for Digby and Martha. “It’s ok, Digby. You need me to do something to help set the stage.” Digby looked puzzled. “You know, set things up so you and Martha can be comfortable. Do you need a blanket to sit on, or a couple of those lawn chairs? I’m afraid I can’t help you with chairs, maybe a blanket.”

Digby held up his hand. “While that is very good of you Brigitte, I have something different to ask of you. Giles is going to be here at lunch time to move the big picnic table from the patio area to the front lawn. He needs help to move it and I would like you to be that help. I would have asked Samuel the gardener, but I really just want to keep this among the house staff. If you don’t feel like that is a job you should be doing, please feel free to decline.” Digby wiped his brow with a large white handkerchief.

“No problem, Digby. I’ll get my work done here, have my lunch and help Giles out. Does he know I’ll be here?” Still amused, Brigitte got up from the table to get started on her morning’s work, She also needed to turn her smile away from Digby. He was such a good man but so awkward!

~~~~~

When Brigitte first encountered Sarah, it had frightened her. But when Martha told her what she knew about Sarah, her heart softened. She felt badly for a child that had gone so early and seemed so lonely. After Martha left to answer her telephone, she told Sarah that she would like to be her friend. She remembered that only a tiny sigh like a breeze had come through the unopened dining room window. Since then Brigitte had always felt safe in the upstairs. She kept the china and crystal in order, never rearranging anything. The silver cutlery exactly lined up perfectly in the right hand drawer. The linen napkins laundered and kept in the left hand drawer. When she finished her upstairs cleaning and dusting for the day, she waved to the air and said ‘See you later, Sarah’.

Today, her routine was the same. The only change was that she took her lunch out to the picnic table. It was a lovely day, the patio was beautifully shaded by the wisteria beginning its springtime drape through the latticed pergola. Digby must have something really special planned for this picnic lunch. They could have had it right out here. It’s lovely. “Giles! Hi! I’m over here. I’m just finishing my lunch and we can move this table.”

“Hi Brigitte. Thanks for doing this. James was very specific that he wanted you on this job. Did he tell you why? He told me it was something about ‘keeping it all in the family’.”

“He didn’t use those words, but I got the gist. Giles, do you know any rumours or stories about this old place? “

“How much time do you have, Brigitte? Driving the Mrs. all over town here and there, I do hear whispers. Some of them louder than others. Sometimes it’s about an old man in the garden. Some kids are sure they hear eery noises coming from the apple orchard. And then there’s the one about a witch riding her broom at Hallowe’en. Now I don’t believe that one. Kids reading not enough Harry Potter. If they did they’d know it was Hagrid on his motorcycle!” Giles was ready to spin his tales. Travels all around Hartley and the hours he had spent waiting for Mrs. Beaufort had provided him with a rich imaginary life.

“But you know Brigitte, the one - call it ‘ghost story’ - that rings true is the one about the girl on the swing. Of all the stories I’ve heard, that is the one I hear the most often. She's apparently a pretty little thing.”

A breeze, like a tiny sigh, rumpled the wisteria over their heads. Giles and Brigitte did get the table moved that day. From the dining room window, two figures - an earthly man and a shadow child - could have been seen. They both smiled as they watched the picnic table settle just ahead of the arching redwood branch.

“There’s always room for a story that can 
transport people to another place.”

~ J.K.Rowling