Chapter One, Episode 75 - Ghost Talks - Situationally Theirs

Review, Edit and Update
With just one or two typos, I could have had this review done and dusted in short order. However, dialogue needed more clarity which I hope I have provided satisfactorily. I also changed the font size on Sarah's dialogue. My original intent was to show the volume of her voice, however in this review found it ineffective. For any old eyes, like mine, it really did not add anything to the story. Rather, it had the potential of an unwelcome distraction.  
** In playing with font and font size, I seem to have made quite a mess of this Update!  For that I do apologize. No time to work on it any further today, as it may require a complete rewrite. 

Ghost Talks

“Goodnight, Miss Emelina. Elizabeth and I are on our way now. Digby has already gone home; he says goodnight to you and enjoy your evening.” Martha, housekeeper for the Beaufort Estate, called up the stairs to Emelina Beaufort as she had asked. She needed to know when  Martha, Cook and Digby had left for the day. The old house would be eerily quiet, the comfortable voices from the big kitchen missing as the evening grew dark.

“Good night to you both. Have a pleasant evening.” Emelina called back from her cosy seat by the fireplace in the living room. When she heard them leave, she gathered her book, what was left of her cake and blanket, stood and went into her bedroom, closing the door behind her.

The old house settled with creaks and groans in the silence. Emmie was restless. She had been reading a bit of fluff. Romance novels were not her usual choice. Before returning home that afternoon, she had picked it up from one of the little sidewalk libraries, unsure about whether she should take something that so many hands had touched. With gloves on, she chose the first book that her hands touched, put it in one of the ever present plastic bags that were back in use. When she got it up to her room, she wiped it down with hand sanitizer, then left it while she went to talk with Digby. Unable to concentrate on the book, only crumbs left from the cake she had brought upstairs with her, she got up from her comfy chair and turned down her bed.

~~~~~

Hmm. Pyjamas. I guess I could get ready for bed. It’s not really time, but pyjamas may settle me down…….Maybe I’ll go downstairs and get another piece of cake………No, maybe not. Emelina Beaufort was lost. She paced from bedroom to bedroom, into the dining room and the living room, into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. “I just can’t settle. You just can’t settle." Splashing cold water on her face, she ran wet fingers through her hair.” Back into the hallway, she avoided returning to her bed, staring quizzically at her dining room. One hand on her hip and the other holding the back of her neck, she turned and looked with the same puzzlement at her living room. I wonder if Sarah would mind. There’s nobody but me in the house, so……… Sarah was the resident ghost. A young girl of about 11 or 12 with long blonde ringlets. She was usually in the dining room or on her ghostly swing on the aged redwood in the front yard. Emmie walked over to the dining room window that faced out on the front lawn and the redwood. Pushing the gauzy white curtains aside, she could see that Sarah and her swing were not there. “Sarah?” ….. “Are you here?”…… “If you’re here, I have a question for you. Were these rooms always in this order? Was the dining room always the dining room? I’d like to change things around but I need to know…………….   Oh heavens. Listen to me! I’m talking to a ghost that I can only imagine. It must really be too lonely up here when I’m that desperate for company.”

A chair from the head of the dining room slid back, turned around and did a slow slide into the living room. “Sarah? Is that really you?”  A second dining room chair slid back, turned around and did a slow slide into the living room stopping precisely beside the first one. Emelina was stunned. “Really?” She looked around. “Digby?”...  “Martha?”.....  “Cook?” ....she knew they had all left for the day. Then, a whispery child’s voice came from nowhere. 

‘they’re not here. they went home. the rooms were different then.’  

“Ok, Sarah, if you’re going to talk to me I need to see you.”

‘why?’

Emmie had sensed that Sarah was frightened! “Because I’d like to be your friend and I like to see my friends.” Emmie should have been frightened but was almost amused. I’m trying to befriend a ghost! I’m glad everyone has gone home! They’d lock me up.

‘they changed the rooms.’  Sarah, of the blonde ringlets, was primly sitting on one of the chairs, ankles crossed and her hands folded on her lap.

“Who changed the rooms, Sarah?”

Her voice clearer now, Sarah said ‘soldiers and it always stayed. why do you want to change it?’

“Well, Sarah, I get real lonely up here. Even though I like to be up here, I get tired of being in my bedroom. I’d like to have a cozier living room.”………… “This is ridiculous. I’m talking to a ghost like she is a real person! I need to call Dez and hear a real voice!”

Sarah's voice descended back into a whisper.    ‘you don’t like me.’ 

“No, Sarah. Don’t disappear. It’s just that, well, it’s not normal - I mean it’s very different to …… I don’t know what to say. It’s just that, it’s unusual to be friends with a ghost. Ghosts are usually scary. And you’re just a nice little girl.” With the insecurity of a frightened child, Sarah whispered ‘ok. I will show you. ……. Sarah stood up and pointed to the dining room window. ‘nobody liked watching me on my swing.’ 

“So if I change it back to a living room, would you like that?” Emelina was feeling quite pleased with herself. She really did like Sarah. “I would love to watch you on the swing. I know you like to set the table sometimes and then stand at the window. Would that still be alright?”

‘yes. good bye.’  Sarah vanished, leaving Emelina feeling quite alone, but only for a moment. She knew she wouldn’t be able to move all the living room furniture by herself but she could make a good start. Taking her housecoat off, she pushed up her pyjama sleeves and moved the rest of the dining room chairs and the table into the living room. The only thing she could move from the living room was the navy plush wingback chair and foot stool, the side table and lamp. She lit the small fireplace and surveyed the new and only partially furnished living room. Satisfied she walked over to the window, pushed the gauzy white curtains aside and smiled. Sarah was on her swing. The shadows thrown by the crescent moon were thin but wavered as Sarah swung back and forth, back and forth.

~~~~~

“Miss Emelina…..Miss Emelina…..wake up. It’s Martha. I’ve got your tea for you.”

“Martha? I thought you had gone home. Where am I? What time is it? Where did this blanket come from?”

“Now, you just settle here with your tea. You fell asleep in your chair. I don’t know what you were up to last night but furniture’s been moved all over the place. I’ll get someone up here to put everything back in place. But for now you just stay put.” Martha put her hand on Emelina’s forehead. “No temperature. Maybe you’re just over tired. You’ve been studying on things awfully hard. When Brigitte comes, I’ll have her bring up your breakfast.”

“One need not be a chamber to be haunted,

One need not be a house. The brain has 
corridors surpassing material place.”

~ Emily Dickinson

Chapter One, Episode 74 - Domestic Life - Situationally Theirs

Hatley Castle, Victoria, BC

Review, Edit and Update:

I learned something new today: the name of the accountant: Mr. Gerald Winston. It had been nestled in this little scene since writing this on June 6th. His name has been added to my ever-growing list of details for this story. 

Most of my editing has been to flesh out, once more, the scenes around the dialogue. There were times when even I, who had written this story, didn't know who was really speaking. For that I apologize to all of my readers.
Other than that, only one or two typos that were fixed.

Domestic Life

“What did I just hear,….‘leave James at home and go exploring ourselves’?” James Edward Digby, butler of the Beaufort Estate called out from the mudroom. Martha Haverstock, housekeeper for the Estate and Elizabeth, cook for the Estate had not even heard his car drive up or the back door open. 

“My goodness James, where did you come from?! You surprised us. I just about dropped my teacup.” Martha smiled fondly at James. “I’d never leave you at home. That was just Elizabeth talking. I didn’t agree to it and anyway, such a trip is impossible with the state of affairs these days.”

“Tea, James? Have you got time? There’s a fresh cake waiting to be cut. It’s cooled enough that we can all have a bite. I’ll just get some raspberries out of the fridge. Would you get out some plates, forks and the cake knife while you’re up, James? Martha, you’re……..you already have the napkins out. ” Cook set the fresh vanilla cake on the table. She went back to the refrigerator for the raspberries, returning with the tart-sweet red fruit. 

“I do have time, Elizabeth. I’m expecting Miss Emelina shortly, but tea and cake would hit the spot." James took his briefcase into his office and returned to the table. "Raspberries would make it all that much better. Now. What were the two of you talking about?” 

Martha separated out the plates. Cook put a generous piece of cake on each plate. James accepted his and spooned raspberries on the cake, drizzling a bit of the juice over it all. “Elizabeth asked me where I would like to go and I said either a castle in Scotland or the Biltmore House in North Carolina. To maybe stay in a castle and see what Downstairs was like in the 1800’s.”

Swallowing a bite of cake and raspberries, James posed a question “Have either of you ever been to Craigdarroch Castle? Do you even know where it is?" He paused long enough for another bite of cake. "This cake is delicious, Elizabeth! I hope you didn’t make it for anything special, because I think I’ll just have a second piece.”

“Craigdarroch Castle? Where is it?” Elizabeth looked puzzled.

Martha poured more tea for each of them “I had forgotten all about that castle, James. Joanie took the children there last summer when they went down to Victoria." Joanie, Martha's daughter had given Martha two grandchildren: five year old Abby and nine year old Ben. Martha smiled, remembering the flood of stories from the children after their visit 'to the real castle Grandma!'. "Do you think it would be open to the public yet? And there’s another castle in Victoria - Hatley Castle. Do you suppose the three of us could take a day trip down there one day…that’s if they’re open to the public?”

Digby pushed his raspberry stained plate away, placing his fork neatly across the household china. “You’re right, Martha. If I’m not mistaken they were both built in 1890 by a man by the name of James Dunsmuir. There’s quite bit of history on this island. Travel being what it is these days, we really can’t go far and really don’t need to.”

Elizabeth looked to the back door. “Sounds like another car.”

“Thank you Giles. I’ll put the car away if you want to get home. I’ve got my own keys.” Emelina Beaufort had just stepped in the backdoor. She called out “Digby, are you in the kitchen?”

“Yes, Miss Emelina. Cook and Martha are here as well. We’re just having tea and cake." Cook set out another tea cup, plate and fork. James continued. "It's freshly baked cake and raspberries. Do you have time to sit for a bit before we talk business?”

“Mmmmmmm…I always have time for Cook’s cake, and especially with raspberries. I’d love a cup of tea. We can talk business later.” Emmie came into the kitchen and pulled out the nearest chair.

~~~~~

“Now to business. How can I help you, Mrs. Beaufort?” Digby felt a bit nervous. He had been concerned that his services would no longer be needed or at least his hours would be cut. This had been his home for all his life. He really didn’t know what he would do. Would his Estate pension and government pensions be enough? Would he and Martha be able to get married or would they just ‘live in sin’ as the young people say?

“Digby, is there anything wrong? Just for a second you got a worried look on your face?” Emelina had momentarily looked up at Digby.

“Oh, nothing, Miss Emelina. You wanted know about the accountant, was that it?” James didn't often struggle for words, but he didn't want to bring up his own worries.

“Yes, but there is something else. First of all, stop worrying." Emmie had already sensed Digby's worry. She decided to address it right away. "You had a tense look on your face again. So, I have a question for you: Do all my questionings about the running of the Estate make you uncomfortable?”

James paused a long time before answering. “Well, yes they do. I am beginning to think you have lost faith in me. No, that’s not quite right. I feel like you may be considering doing away with my position. There. I’ve said it out loud. Yes I am worried."

Emmie sat back in her the small tub-chair by Digby's old oak desk. Her next words were full of emotion. “Oh Digby, that is the farthest thing from my mind. I need you here more than ever. You and your father have been much more that butlers. This Estate has been run by your expert hands. When Michael was alive, he always seemed involved with you in the running of things. That’s all I want to do. Be involved in things here. I don’t want to make decisions without talking them over with you.”

Digby smiled and relaxed. “That is good to hear. You have changed so much - like you’ve grown up or woken up - since you and your sister have become family again, I haven’t been able to tell what you might be thinking.”

“I still have a lot to learn. Sometimes I really am overwhelmed by it all and by letting the last five years go by without a thought." Emmie was quiet as she tried to remember her life before she and her sister reunited. Then she gathered herself together and sat up straight. "Doing away with your position? Definitely not. This afternoon I would like the accountant’s contact number. I do have one other addition, or change that I want your advice on. I’m taking Brigitte on as a sort of Personal Assistant. She'll be spending all her time with me, so won’t be able to take care of her cleaning duties. Can we hire another person to fill that spot? Or do you have some other solution? Is this something that you would ordinarily speak with the accountant about?”

"Not necessarily. He would need to be informed of course, of any monetary changes. In this case, the addition of more staff. He would tell me of any difficulties." Digby flipped through the rolodex on his desk, wrote down the name, address and phone number for Mr. Gerald Winston, the accountant. Digby passed the card to Emmie with the information. He returned to their previous conversation. “You have eased my mind, Miss Emelina. I am always available to talk over anything with you. I will also talk with Martha and see if there’s someone she knows that can come in to clean and how often. We shouldn’t need someone full time, so we can keep costs down.”

Emmie slipped Mr. Winston's information into the daytimer that had become her constant companion. “Thank you, Digby. And please. No more worrying about the security of your position. For the rest of the afternoon, I’ll be up in my room if anyone needs anything. Just call up the stairs when you leave for the day.” Emelina wanted to reach out and pat James on the shoulder, but did not. 

~~~~~

Out in the kitchen, Cook had put away the afternoon’s lunch. Martha was busying herself with the Housekeeping books. Emmie stepped out of Digby's office. “Ladies. I’m going up to my room now. Cook, can I take a piece of that cake with me? Just cake and a glass of milk. I’ll come down later and get some real food at supper time. When you leave for the day, just call upstairs. It does get awfully quiet in here when I’m the only one here.” Emelina accepted the cake from Cook, turned and walked to the stairs, “Thank you, Cook.” At the foot of the stairs, she stopped, looked up to the second floor and said…. “I really must do something about the quiet." and continued up the stairs.

“Every moment happens twice: inside and outside, 

and they are two different histories,”

~ Zadie Smith, White Teeth

Chapter One, Episode 73 - Where to Go? - Situationally Theirs

Biltmore House, North Carolina 2015

Review, Edit and Update:
Episode 73 - Where to Go? - had an extra parameter. In my Author's note at the end, I indicated that I wrote this based on my writing group assignment for the month of June. 

I thought it was fairly well edited as we read our pieces aloud to the group. What I had missed, which has been a pattern for this writer, is setting individual scenes around dialogue, consistent with characters and location. Seldom does that alter the dialogue much more than breaking it up should the dialogue be long. I also recognized that, to truly be stand alone stories, when names are mentioned, brief definition of characters is appropriate.

Where to Go?

“Where would I like to go? My goodness, Elizabeth, I had never even thought about that." Martha and Elizabeth had known each other for years, both them hired at the same time, Martha as Housekeeper and Elizabeth as the cook. "Yes, James and I are engaged to be married, but there’s no travel right now. At least, what do they call it - non-essential or something like that? Honeymoon travel can’t be real necessary.”

“Martha.” Cook shook her head in time with stirring her cake batter. “Haven’t you ever played ‘just pretend’ when you were a young girl? You must have played that game with your grandkids.”

“But a honeymoon? I don’t even know whether James likes to travel or where he would like to go.” Martha frowned, surprised that she didn't really know that about her intended.

“But Martha, what do you like? If you could go anywhere, where would it be?” Cook pressed Martha to think about her own interests.

“Let me think.” Martha put one finger to her lips, one hand on her hips. “There are actually two places. One is easier to get to than the other, but if you want me to dream a little………One would be in Scotland and live in a castle on the moors ~ if such things exist anymore. They must have all kinds of history and until Miss Emelina changed things we had been play acting at Upstairs Downstairs a long time. I’d like to see what a really old-fashioned Downstairs would look like……And James and I could go for walks on the moors and just get into the dreaminess of it.” Martha smiled at the thought of walking with 'her' James. James, better known as Digby, was the estate butler. Hired after his father, Digby, Sr. retired from that position.

“Are you sure? Isn’t it cold and dreary there? Not sure that would be the most romantic place to go.” Cook had been hoping for some place warm, like the Islands of Morocco but Martha did have funny ideas now and then. Maybe her second choice would be better. “What’s the second place, Martha? You and James don’t have much chance for romance around here.”

Martha blushed. “Oh, heavens Elizabeth. We’re both too old for all the romantic stuff - except for flowers and wining and dining. If you must know, my second choice is not that much different, except we wouldn’t have to fly across the ocean. It may be easier to get to although with all the protest violence down there, we wouldn’t be able to go right away.”

“But if all the protests were settled, where would you go?” Their long friendship had occasionally tested their patience. This was one of those times. Elizabeth was tapping her foot waiting for Martha to tell her about a place ‘not that much different’. She had gone from the moors of Scotland all the way to protests in the country south of Canada. 

“I would take James to the Biltmore Estate in Asheville, North Carolina. Did you know that you can stay there? I think James would be fascinated by such a trip. One time, long before you asked me where’d I’d like to go, Joanie showed me how to get on their website. Well, it is just beautiful. It’s in those mountains. You know, the Blue Ridge Mountains. There are amazing gardens and even one inside the house that is at least three stories tall. Can you imagine our Samuel tending exotic plants and inside a castle? He has no time for fancy gardens." Samuel Forrester, the estate gardener, preferred being out on the land to fussing over houseplants. "But back to my trip. They even have a swimming pool from the 1920’s. Oh Elizabeth, you would love the kitchens. They are the real Downstairs. Those people had to work so hard just to keep one family going. Very little electricity yet. Still churning butter and the cold storage is bigger than our one pantry!”

Martha's description had aroused Elizabeth's curiosity. “That place does sound interesting, but what about the Upstairs? What would Brigitte think of it?” Brigitte, a young woman and only hired four years prior, had what Martha called a 'multipurpose job' - to be Mrs. Beaufort's Lady's Maid and the Upstairs cleaning maid. 

“Well, the first thing Brigitte would say ‘Get me more staff! I can’t clean all this by myself.’ But she’d get us a whole lot more gossip! Wouldn’t old Mrs. Beaufort be right in her element. A real Lady of the Manor. And did you know there is a whole floor for guests. Single bedrooms. Parlours. Even a writing room. Ceilings more than 12 feet high, walls covered with heavy tapestries. Some walls covered floor to ceiling with book shelves. Dark maroon velvet upholstery and draperies. My heart just gets all in a flutter just thinking about how grand it must have been for the Upstairs people, while our Downstairs ancestors were working from dawn to dusk just to keep everything grand.” While Martha was gushing about the Biltmore Mansion, Cook had finished mixing up her cake and popped it in the oven to bake. While it was baking, she put the old teakettle on for tea. It was an old but still shiny teakettle with what Cook considered a proper spout. She put her Grandmother’s porcelain teakettle whistle over the spout and got out teacups for both of them.

Elizabeth washed her hands, drying them on her apron. “The Biltmore Mansion, is it? When I put that cake in oven at just the right temperature and then thought about the big drafty ovens back then….. just to be in those kitchens and see all the old equipment those cooks used then would be a real treat. Do you think we could handle some of it? You know, Martha, we may just have to leave James at home and go exploring ourselves. 

“Wherever you go, go with all your heart.”

~ Confucius

**Authors note: Today was my writers group. Our assignment for today was to research and write about a place we had never been. Martha, the Housekeeper and Cook at the Beaufort Estate, decided that they should tell the story. What could I do? I've been to Biltmore House but those two are like a pair of two year olds sometimes. So I let them loose on my writers group this afternoon.