Date: Sun, 22 Jul 2012 03:54:10 +0200
From: Amy Redek <adultreading@gmail.com>
Subject: Ghost. Chapter Eight.

    This story is for persons of eighteen years or over.  All comments,
good or bad, are welcome and all will be answered.

			       Chapter Eight

   With the loss of Alice and Arthur, the spirit had gone out of the other
children in respect of their ghost hunting activities during that
winter. So they looked forward to the summer to resume their hunting for my
grave in the gardens, but this was curtailed by another death, that of
Thomas.

   He'd been out to see to the fields, and when he hadn't returned for
dinner, Sophie got worried and sent out some servants to look for him. It
was almost dark when they found his body in the river. This gave rise to
quite some speculation as to whether he had fallen in by accident and
drowned, or had deliberately taken his own life. This last premise Sophie
refused to have spoken even though she secretly knew that it was a distinct
possibility as he'd been very worried about the estates finances for quite
some time.

   So that summer was as sombre as had been the winter after he'd been
buried in the vault. So games had been banned in the grounds and the
children were to show respect by doing more sedate things like reading,
sewing or painting. This last was good for Catherine as she was developing
a good style and had a keen eye, so she spent hours painting pictures of
the Hall from various angles. They were water colours and were good enough
to have framed and were hung in the bedroom corridor.

   So Richard at the age of thirteen became the next Earl of Stapleton and
as such, became privy to the accounts of the estate as shown to him by his
mother, Sophie. Though it was known that he would eventually inherit the
title, it was really too soon for him as it then robbed him of the rest of
his childhood by having to now act as a man as befitted the head of the
household.

   He moved out from his small bedroom and took over the master bedroom
that had been his father's as well as his seat at the dining room table. He
took on this task very well, determined to try and salvage something of his
inheritance though the prospects looked poor. Even though he knew the
estate like the back of his hand, he still rode round it and also onto the
old Wetherby land by way of the ford. He actually stopped there and sat on
the bank to think about what to do, not realising that he was sitting at
the very spot where I first kissed Caroline those many years ago.

   The boy had vision though and knew that he had to bring the unkempt
fields of Wetherby back into productivity but that meant getting the
equipment needed over the river. The simple answer was to build a bridge
alongside the ford, one capable of taking the heavy carts and such like and
so had Catherine do some drawings as he described what he had in mind. With
the best one that he liked, set the field hands to work that winter to
build his bridge which was duly done and ready just after Christmas for the
men to get the horses and ploughs across to begin clearing the land for
Spring planting.

   To aid in this, Richard became somewhat of an authoritarian by taking
some of the gardeners out of their normal occupation to help in the fields
and that the children had to spend one day a week seeing to those
particular chores. There was almost a revolution within the family over
this but he argued that if they couldn't be bothered to prune rose bushes
or pull up a few weeds from the kitchen gardens, they wouldn't be fed.

   Sophie didn't really agree with these tactics but refrained from
speaking for she saw that he was right if the estate was to survive. So
that summer, the children helped out in the grounds to much grumbling but
in the end came to enjoy the planting of seeds and then gather the fruits
of their labours at a later date. At least the family and estate survived
another year by the efforts of everybody and they'd had a good harvest that
would see them through the winter which was quite severe this year. Snow
lay deep round the Hall and cut them off from the outside world though no
one in the past had ever bothered by anything or anybody beyond their
boundaries.

   Hugo suggested to Catherine that she did another set of paintings to
complement the others by having a winter set to be placed opposite of the
summer ones that hung in the corridor. So muffled up and told to not work
for more than an hour out in the cold, did another series of the Hall with
its covering of snow. They were a stark contrast but excellent in capturing
the frozen aspect of the land and surrounding countryside in the
background. Everybody admired the paintings and agreed that she did indeed
have talent for this and was asked to start doing portraits and the like of
the family.

   But there was something about the pictures that disturbed Hugo, but he
couldn't put his finger on what was wrong with them. He dismissed these
thoughts and they were duly hung in the corridor opposite those of the
summer and they really looked professional for she had sat in exactly the
same place to do this second set. Hugo walked passed them at least twice a
day if not more when going and leaving his room and would often pause to
study them, this feeling stealing over him each time he looked at them that
something was wrong.

   I would often stand there with him and being a bit more in the know as
it were, knew what was wrong with them and I felt very frustrated that I
couldn't point out what it was that was troubling him. I would also spend a
lot of time in his room to try and show him but failed to make contact. So
I spent many hours in front of one painting and concentrated on one window
and eventually managed to make a small impression in the painting. It was
very faint but it could be seen as a pale shadow against the dark interior
and it was this that was eventually noticed.

   It was some weeks of him studying the pictures before he spotted it and
rushed off to find Catherine and he showed her what he'd found.

   `Do you see the pale shadow there framed in the window?' he asked of
her.

   `Yes,' she said puzzled as she took a closer look. `That wasn't like
that when I painted it, I'm quite sure it wasn't.'

   `I think it's the ghost of Richard,' he said triumphantly.

   `It can't be. You can't paint a picture of a ghost,' she exclaimed.

   `But you didn't paint it! He's appeared to us in your painting,' he said
excitedly, `and I'm sure it wasn't there either when it was first hung
up. I've been looking at these pictures for ages and I've only just spotted
it and am quite certain that it wasn't there originally. But there's
something else that's not quite right and I still can't see what it is.'

   I was behind him and thumping him on the back and kept pointing at the
window but he didn't feel my punches and I nearly wept when they moved away
to go back downstairs. It was another two weeks later and the snow had
started to melt and disappear that I think he saw what he had been missing
all that time. One minute he was looking at the paintings and then rushed
off to his room and just stood there looking at the window before going
back to look at them again. Back to the room again and then got out a heavy
coat and went downstairs and outside and I followed him. He went and stood
in all four places roughly from where Catherine had sat to do the paintings
and I saw him then jump up and down and clap his hands.

   He rushed back to the house and went and saw Richard who was ensconced
in his office with Sophie.

   `Excuse me for butting in like this,' he said excitedly, `but I think
I've found Richard, our ghost!' Richard stood up and glanced at his mother,
his eyes alight and shining like Hugo's.

   `Where?' he asked as did Sophie at the same time.

   `Can I explain a little later, to everyone, for we have to look at
something and I want you all to see if I'm right or not. Can we get
everybody into the hall and have Catherine's pictures brought down.' They
had all by now, looked at these paintings while on the wall and there was
doubt to some that it was my ghost in the window. But Richard rang for a
servant and instructed him to get the paintings off the corridor wall and
bring them to the hall. Another servant was sent for to go and round up all
the family members to meet in the hall.

   Richard, Sophie and Hugo went along to the hall and waited till two
servants came in with the paintings that were then laid out on the table
with the winter scenes being on the top and the exact summer one
below. Hugo also laid out a piece of plain paper and crayon on the table as
the family slowly came into the room but waited till all were assembled.

   `I am pretty certain that I now know where the body of Richard, our
ghost lies,' Hugo said to the gasps of those there, especially from the
children. `Now all look again at the paintings of Catherine and see if you
can see what I can now clearly see, paying special attention to the window
where the ghost is supposed to be.' They all in turn walked along the hall
table looking at the pictures though none of them came up with any
answer. `Okay,' Hugo said as he rearranged the pictures to show opposite
sides of the Hall together as a pair. `Now look again at these two and
again, look at the windows.' It was Peter that spoke out.

   `Well looking at them, I can't see any difference.'

   `Exactly,' Hugo exclaimed, quite pleased with himself at what he was
about to explain. `Now having heard all that you've said about the ghost,
most of you have been into the room where I sleep,' to which he got quite a
few nods. `But none of you noticed what, to me now I must admit but didn't
realise until a short while ago, was the placement of the window. It was
only apparent when I went into this room on the opposite side of the
house,' and he pointed to that picture. `The wall on the right as you enter
my room is quite close to the window and not in the center of the two walls
as it is in this other room.

   `Now look at this,' and took up the crayon and drew a square upon the
piece of paper and made marks where the door and window were. `This is my
room. Now point out to me Richard where the panel is that opens onto the
staircase going down to the lower back hall.' Richard pointed halfway along
on the right hand wall. `Yes,' and Hugo drew this and then added the
staircase to the drawing. Now you see that the door and stairs are halfway
across the room, but what about this corner, and he then shaded in the
other section to make the drawing a square again. `That, if I remember
rightly, was a brick wall on the left as the stairs go down to the right.
The paintings do not show any other corners so it's my contention that
there is a chamber, small, about three feet by five at the top of these
stairs behind that brick wall. And that is where the body of our ghost
lies,' he finished triumphantly. I was clapping and cheering and patting
him on the back as I went and danced around the table.