His Father's Ghost (Mina Scarletti Mystery Book 5) Page 3

  ‘She prays for her poor husband daily,’ Richard added, with a meaningful look which suggested that Enid’s most fervent wish was for Mr Inskip to continue to be abroad for as long as possible, and for preference never return at all.

  ‘How long will you be able to stay?’

  ‘Oh, Edward said as you were so ill, I could stay as long as I liked,’ said Richard, airily. ‘I could do with some sea air — anything that doesn’t smell of ink or pencil.’

  ‘Really? That is kind of him.’ Richard, whose ambition in life was to become rich without it costing him any effort, had abandoned his recent attempt to become a playwright on discovering the profession to be both arduous and scant of remuneration. He had been working initially as a clerk and later a sketch artist for a ladies’ magazine. The Society Journal was a product of the Scarletti publishing house, which had been managed by Edward and the senior partner Mr Greville since their father’s death.

  Mina was well aware that Edward had only offered Richard a position in the company from brotherly loyalty without any anticipation that he would ever discover the satisfaction of hard work. It was typical of Richard, she thought, that drawing, which had once been the idle amusement he had resorted to when bored by the clerkly tasks he was supposed to be doing had lost its appeal for him once it became his occupation. His extended absence from the office was unlikely to be a handicap to the business, which had however provided his longest ever period of gainful employment.

  Mina wanted to question Richard further, but the conversation had taken all her slight energy, and as Miss Cherry returned to her side, she was obliged to accept that for the time being at least, her principal occupation would be resting.

  The next morning, after a peaceful night, the sound of the postman’s daily delivery alerted Mina’s attention. ‘Are there any letters for me?’ she asked Miss Cherry.

  ‘I don’t believe so,’ said Miss Cherry, but she turned her face away as she spoke.

  ‘Not even one from Mrs Vardy?’

  ‘I am sure I have not seen any letters at all.’

  By the time Richard visited her again, Mina was quite certain that there were letters and felt frustrated at not being allowed to see them. Fortunately, Miss Cherry understood that Mina might wish to converse with her brother alone and went to speak to cook on the subject of chicken broth.

  ‘Richard, tell me something,’ said Mina, urgently as soon as the nurse had gone.

  ‘Careful, my dear, Dr Hamid has said you are to remain very quiet and still, and not to worry yourself about anything.’

  ‘And since when did I behave in such a way?’

  ‘That is true, but he was very insistent.’ He smiled and patted her hand. ‘All right, what is it you want to know?’

  ‘Have any letters arrived for me while I have been ill?’

  He thought for a moment. ‘I haven’t seen any. There are none on the hall table. Why? Is something wrong, because if so —’

  ‘No. I was just — I have been feeling very dull lying in bed all day long and was looking for something to read.’

  ‘I could bring you one of mother’s fashion magazines.’

  ‘Something interesting.’

  He nodded. ‘I’ll see what I can find. The Gazette?’

  ‘I suppose I might be allowed that provided nothing remotely exciting has happened in Brighton in the last week.’

  She looked so despondent that he leaned over and hugged her. ‘Just get well, my dear.’

  ‘And while you are here, why don’t you go and see Mr Merridew, who gives his final performances as Hamlet this week? It is very entertaining. Perhaps you could make a sketch of the theatre and the stage and the actors in costume. Even people who scorn the theatre like to see pictures of it. Such a subject would be ideal for readers of the Journal.’

  ‘Perhaps I could,’ said Richard, looking unusually pensive. Mina was reminded that Nellie Jordan had, before her marriage graced the popular stage. A performance as Ophelia in a burlesque of Hamlet, in which Nellie had torn off most of her clothing during the mad scene was, so Mina had been assured, still talked about in certain circles.

  Richard had been about to say more, when Rose arrived announcing the arrival of Dr Hamid.

  ‘I shall go and sit with Mother,’ said Richard, looking a little queasy at the sight of the doctor’s medical bag. ‘She will be overjoyed to know that you are better.’

  ‘Try not to borrow money from her,’ Mina pleaded.

  He smiled. ‘But if she offers, it would be such an insult to refuse.’

  ‘Well this is quite a change!’ said Dr Hamid, with the brightest and least forced smile Mina had seen since the start of her illness.

  ‘I feel so much more myself,’ she said, trying to sit up into something that approached an upright position. Miss Cherry returned and she and Rose hurried to assist. It was still an effort and her wretched chest would keep hurting, but Mina was feeling considerably less apprehensive about the prospect of a tragically early death.

  An examination of her pulse and temperature confirmed that Mina was improving, and when Dr Hamid listened to her lungs, he was markedly less worried than previously. ‘You are making good progress,’ he said, ‘but,’ he added warningly, ‘that is no reason to be complacent. You must still take great care and remain in bed for some little while longer until there is no further danger of a relapse. From now on we must concentrate on building up your strength.’

  He delivered fresh instructions to Rose on the feeding of the patient, and supplied a small book on invalid diet, which he asked to be directed to the cook. Mina only hoped that cook would not find it too confusing as did any request to prepare something not in her usual limited repertoire. Mina was getting a little tired of insipid broths and would have preferred a refreshing drink of Dr Hamid’s specially spiced aerated fruit beverage, which was available at the Baths, but that, like so many of the things she liked were currently denied her.

  ‘What do you hear when you listen to my lungs?’ asked Mina.

  He hesitated, and she could see that he was debating with himself how much he ought to say. ‘The sound initially was like the burning of a log fire, which is not what one normally expects of a healthy lung. But you will be pleased to know that the flames are much reduced.’

  ‘I would improve much faster if I had some occupation for my mind,’ she hinted.

  ‘Well, we must think of something, then. Do you like acrostic puzzles? I can have some magazines sent over to you.’

  ‘I would rather study the household accounts. I haven’t seen them in over a week.’

  ‘Oh, that is out of the question. But I understand that your cook is managing things from day to day for now, so you need not worry about that. She is a trustworthy woman, is she not?’

  Mina was obliged to admit that this was the case.

  ‘I have a little book of readings,’ said Miss Cherry, helpfully, producing a small volume from her apron pocket. ‘The Young Woman’s Companion. It is a treasure trove of useful information. I read it to all my lady patients.’

  ‘That would be far more suitable,’ said Dr Hamid.

  ‘I would prefer it,’ said Mina, trying to insert a little bite into her weakened voice, ‘if you would allow me to see any letters that have arrived since I became ill. I am sure there have been some. In fact, if you were to tell me that there are none, I would refuse to believe it.’

  ‘Hmm,’ said Dr Hamid, crossing his arms and tapping his fingers on his sleeve indecisively.

  ‘Many of the letters I receive are very amusing,’ Mina went on. ‘I could do with some amusement. And there is family news as well. My brother Edward often writes to me from London. I worry about my family all the time. You know I do, and I would only worry more if I had no news.’

  ‘I suppose,’ Dr Hamid said reluctantly, ‘that I might agree to the letters if only to prevent the possibility of your getting out of bed and trying to retrieve them yourself.’ He made the decision. ‘
Very well. But we will take this slowly. Rose, on my instructions, has been keeping back any letters addressed to you, but if you have another comfortable night, I will approve your seeing them.’ He turned to speak to Rose. ‘If Miss Scarletti continues to improve, then tomorrow morning you may bring her letters, but you must only allow her to see them one at a time. Once Miss Scarletti has read the first one, you and Miss Cherry must judge if it is safe to allow her the next, and so on.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Mina. ‘How is Mother?’

  Dr Hamid closed his medical bag with a snap. ‘Your mother will live to be a hundred, but I cannot persuade her of that. I fear that I must now make another attempt.’

  Once he had gone, Miss Cherry settled herself in a chair beside the bed and, opening her little book, proceeded to read selected portions aloud, regaling Mina with such essential subjects as the cultivation of the pansy, the habits of birds and how to make ornamental papers. She would not, however, permit Mina to read it for herself, and Mina suspected that even in such a turgid volume there might be matters considered too stimulating for an invalid. She longed for something more diverting but dared not say so.

  Mina’s family were under the impression that her main amusement was writing gently moral tales for children under her own name, brought out almost as an act of indulgence by Scarletti Publishing. Her writing career had certainly begun in that way, with heart-warming stories designed to ease the gentle soul of her younger sister Marianne, who had died from consumption at the age of fifteen. In recent years, however, she had found her true vocation as a prolific author of bone-chilling adventures featuring ghosts, demons and witches. These were published by the Scarletti Library of Romance under the pseudonym Robert Neil, and enjoyed some moderate success. Even her brother Edward was unaware of her secret identity since works of short fiction were the remit of his business partner Mr Greville.

  Mina, with no interest in pansies, birds or ornamental paper, understood completely the necessity of guarding her weakened body from harm, but did not think her mind required the same consideration. She decided that when she was well, and able to sit at her writing desk, she would compose a tale of horror in which a book of anodyne advice for young ladies proved to be the work of an evil magician designed to lure weak invalids to a terrible doom.

  Thankfully, she passed a restful night, and awoke to the encouraging prospect of seeing her correspondence. After a breakfast of toast soaked in milk, she submitted without protest to her morning ablutions, and waited expectantly for Rose to bring her letters.

  There was a small but promising looking bundle of correspondence, and Rose and Miss Cherry stood by with expressions of great solemnity to observe her responses.

  Mina was first handed an advertisement for a conjuror called The Great Mysterioso who claimed to be able to use his special mystical powers to reveal all the secrets of the spirit mediums. He was assisted in this endeavour by wearing a feathered turban and exotically patterned oriental trousers. He would be performing throughout the summer months starting in June, from 10am to 9pm in a booth on the West Pier at a charge of one shilling per visitor.

  ‘That could be interesting,’ said Mina, keeping her manner deliberately bright, ‘I would love to know the secrets of the spirit mediums, and will certainly pay him a visit. Rose, please place it on my desk and bring the next letter.’

  Miss Cherry nodded to Rose who complied.

  The second letter was from Mina’s friend Mrs Honeyacre announcing that she would be in Brighton all next month and would be holding a salon, which she very much hoped Mina could attend.

  ‘What a charming invitation! I will send a reply saying that I hope to be well enough to do so,’ said Mina.

  Rose grunted. ‘Are you supposed to be writing letters?’

  ‘Dr Hamid did not forbid it, therefore I am,’ said Mina firmly. Rose and Miss Cherry exchanged glances but conceded victory to the patient.

  A letter from Italy was of more than usual interest and she opened it eagerly. It had been some time since she had enquired after Nellie’s happiness in her marriage to Mr John Jordan, since to do so was to invite responses best left unvoiced. The marriage had been motivated by Nellie’s wish to acquire a secure establishment, and Mr Jordan’s admiration of her person, which he adorned with all the latest fashions in his emporium, thus making her a walking breathing advertisement. Admiration of the gowns was always encouraged, but not of the voluptuous wearer. He had once employed a detective to spy on his wife during his absence on business, and she had narrowly escaped discovery, but this time he had simply removed her from temptation.

  Palazzo Hotel

  Florence

  March 1872

  Dear Mina,

  The weather in Italy is so pleasant at this time of year, neither too warm nor too cool. I do hope that Brighton is being kind to you.

  As you may imagine John is very occupied here with visiting all the workshops that produce such beautiful fabrics, and he is sure to make substantial purchases. I can promise that there will be much to astonish the fashionables in Brighton. But I am not idle or wanting for company. There is a delightful English lady here with two charming daughters of about my own age and we go everywhere together. I shall have so much to tell you when we return, which will not be for a few weeks at least, and I will make sure that you have the very best and latest trimmings before anyone else, so you will be envied!

  I am very well indeed, but poor Zillah is finding the diet does not agree with her. I hope she will become accustomed to it in time.

  With fondest good wishes

  Nellie

  As ever Mina was obliged to interpret the letter and realised that not only was Nellie accompanied by her personal maid, Zillah, but her husband had, in the guise of ensuring her safety and entertainment, supplied her with a guard of ladies carefully instructed not to let her out of their sight and to keep gentlemen at bay.

  The third letter was from Mina’s brother Edward and was dated the day she had been taken ill.

  Scarletti Publishing

  Regent Street

  London

  March 1872

  Dear Mina,

  I hope this finds you well, and that the Brighton weather is more pleasant than that of last month. London is still unseasonably cold, and there are the usual coughs and chills about, so we must all take great care, and it would be best for you not to visit us at present.

  My darling Agatha is like a spring flower, her beauty is admired wherever she goes. I am truly fortunate. We have decided on an autumn wedding after which if business permits, we will take a short tour of the continent.

  Enid and Mother are both as well as they can be under the circumstances, but they cannot agree on anything, and for reasons which entirely escape me I am expected to settle their quarrels, which can be very tiresome. There are whole days when they hardly speak to each other, and that is a blessing.

  Nothing further has been heard from Mr Inskip in recent weeks, from which we may deduce that he is either alive or dead, but we have no means of knowing which. Enid remains frantic about the prospect of his early return. She has been perusing the newspapers reading about storms at sea and attempting to divine the chances of passenger ships foundering with all on board, which to her taste were disappointingly slight. Mother keeps asking for my advice, but she never takes it.

  I feel I should warn you that you may discover Richard on your doorstep in the near future. I am sorry to have to inform you of this, but his association with Scarletti Publishing is at an end. If he wishes to make money without working for it then our business is not for him. In fact, I can scarcely think of any business which is. You may think it a cruel thing to dismiss one’s own brother, but sometimes one must be cruel to be kind. While he has some artistic talent, he does not take the trouble over it that he once did, and I am frankly wearied of his petty excuses.

  Likewise, I can no longer allow him to live with me without paying rent. Agatha has been looking over t
he house with a view to making preparations for our marriage and has made it clear to me that Richard’s absence from the premises will be essential to her domestic happiness. He has therefore been advised to find fresh accommodation. I have not yet told Mother about these arrangements. I have quite enough to do without facing her displeasure with which I know she will regale me on a daily basis.

  Your affectionate brother

  Edward

  ‘Are you alright, Miss?’ said Rose, with a frown.

  Mina realised that she had been perusing the letter rather longer than might have seemed necessary from its length. ‘Oh — er — yes, this is from my brother Edward with so much interesting news in it,’ said Mina, forcing a cheerful smile. ‘Just think, he plans to marry Miss Hooper in the autumn. That is something to look forward to. Are there any more letters?’

  ‘One more.’

  ‘Please bring it.’

  Saltmire & Vardy

  Fine Porcelain

  Hove

  March 1872

  Dear Miss Scarletti,

  I hope that you will permit me to appeal to you since I am a mother in torment. I find my family afflicted by a very strange and disturbing plight which has at its centre my elder son, Franklin, who is aged just fourteen.

  My first husband was Mr Jasper Holt, who died in a sailing accident in 1864. Sadly, he was lost at sea and since his body was never found, he has only recently been declared deceased. My younger son, Matthew is ten years of age and therefore does not have a strong recollection of his father, however Franklin has very fond memories of my late husband to whom he was very attached.

  It is of course upsetting for any child to lose a beloved parent, and when I was finally granted a death certificate for Jasper and therefore allowed to consider myself a widow in law, Franklin felt, I believe, as if he had lost that parent for a second time, and the situation aroused old griefs. He was also unhappy at my decision to marry Mr Vardy whom I have known for three years and who has been a very good friend to my family.