The room was airless. It made my head hurt, and I felt my frock turning damp under the arms.
‘Can you think of why Kit’s not at peace, your Ladyship?’ I said, bold as I could.
Mrs Jessop coughed. Lady Barrington shot her a dark look. Seeing the pair of them sat inches apart like this, I could almost taste the ill will between them.
‘Kit was loved. More than any boy could ask for,’ she said.
‘But it’s strange his ghost never comes to you. You said so yourself.’
Her Ladyship stiffened. I glanced over at Mrs Jessop, who hadn’t moved an inch. But now a red flush was creeping up her neck.
‘We had . . . an argument,’ said Lady Barrington. ‘His last words to me were . . .’ Her lip trembled. ‘Well, let’s just say they were cross words.’
I sat forward at this. Strange how Mrs Jessop’s notebook spoke of mother and son all cosy together at breakfast. Yet Lady Barrington’s account was different.
‘What did you fight about?’
Lady Barrington stared at me.
‘Ada.’
Mrs Jessop gasped. The room was too hot. If only I could open a window.
‘Let me finish, Mrs Jessop,’ she said, though the housekeeper hadn’t yet spoken a word. ‘There is an angry spirit in this house. And though it upsets me to say so, I might know why.’
Mrs Jessop had her hands over her face. ‘I don’t want to hear this,’ she said. ‘Please stop.’
‘But you must,’ Lady Barrington insisted. ‘Because maybe . . . maybe Ada’s angry with me.’
And she’d have reason to be, I reckoned, struck again by what Lady Barrington had done on the day Kit died. You kept her from Kit, and her own flipping mother! You let her die all by herself!
Whose side was I on now? I didn’t have the faintest idea.
For a long moment, we sat in stunned silence. A steady dripping noise came from the gutters outside. Eventually, Lady Barrington turned in her seat. She glanced at the window, then back at me and Mrs Jessop. Touching the brooch at her throat, she took a deep breath
‘Mrs Jessop, please believe me when I say this,’ her Ladyship said. ‘Kit loved your Ada. Really, he did. Yet he loved her too much for a boy with his responsibilities. It wasn’t right for them to be so close. It couldn’t go on.’
It was uncomfortable to hear. Though by now I reckoned it was near to the truth. Mrs Jessop’s hands dropped away from her face. Her Ladyship took it as a sign to keep talking.
‘When Ada got sick, Kit was desperate to see her. He’d made a gift for her and he so wanted her to have it. They’d worked on it together, you see.’
She glanced quickly at me. ‘At the séance I took something out of a cupboard, do you remember?’
I nodded. Of course I remembered it.
‘Well, that package was Kit’s gift to Ada. I kept it all this time. You see, Kit didn’t care about the infection, not in the slightest.’
I went cold all over.
Oh no.
‘All he wanted was to see Ada and give her his gift,’ her Ladyship said. ‘But I forbade him to go. He begged me to say where she’d been sent, but I wouldn’t tell him. He’d have just gone there anyway, I knew he would.’
I could hardly bear to look at Mrs Jessop.
‘I was terrified for him.’ Lady Barrington sounded choked. ‘Children in the village were dying, and I saw how fearful you were, Mrs Jessop. But when Kit knew how ill Ada really was, he grew incensed. “There’s danger everywhere!” he said to me. “I have to see her. You can’t protect me for ever!”’
Mrs Jessop slumped in her seat.
‘He was in a rage. And then he went out on that ice just to spite me, just to prove his point,’ her Ladyship said. ‘I don’t know what he was thinking of.’
Mrs Jessop’s face was wet with tears. ‘What did I do?’ she whispered. ‘What on earth did I do?’
Her Ladyship looked confused. ‘I don’t quite understand.’
It was agony. I’d rather have watched them tear each other’s eyes out. Because I knew what was coming next, and I almost begged Mrs Jessop to keep her secret where it was, since I wondered what good it might do now.
Mrs Jessop squared her shoulders. The tears still fell but her voice was steady. She raised her chin as she met Lady Barrington’s gaze. It made her look defiant. And so like Ada.
‘I did a most awful thing that day. I’ve lived with the guilt ever since.’
Lady Barrington leaned forward as if to comfort her, but she pulled away.
‘Please. Let me explain. Tilly knows what I did, how awful it was.’
Lady Barrington looked at me, then back at Mrs Jessop. I felt sick to the pit of my stomach.
‘I saw Kit out there skating that day, and I knew it wasn’t safe. But I was so angry with you. And I thought . . .’ She paused. ‘. . . That Kit didn’t want to see Ada, that he’d forgotten her. I was angry with him too. I wasn’t thinking properly . . . I never meant to . . .’
She broke off, sobbing. Lady Barrington sat back in her seat. There was no attempt to comfort Mrs Jessop now.
‘What are you trying to tell me?’ her Ladyship said, coldly.
Mrs Jessop took a big shuddery breath. ‘The ice was too thin for skating on. I could see that, even from where I was on the path. I should have shouted to him. Not a day’s gone by when I haven’t wished I did. Because, don’t you see, if I’d warned him, he’d most probably have survived. But instead I pretended I hadn’t seen him. I walked straight past. And when I came by the lake again later, he was already dead.’ She let out a cry. ‘And I did try to revive him, I did try to pull him free, but I couldn’t . . .’
She crumpled in her seat. Her mouth gaped open. Huge sobs shook her whole body. The sound of her despair was awful, like an animal caught in a trap. I couldn’t move.
Lady Barrington went white. She didn’t say anything. After what felt like eternity, she spoke in a low, flat voice.
‘You could have saved him. One word from you and Kit might still be alive.’
I’d thought this too at first. I’d been ready to blame Mrs Jessop fair and square. Now I wasn’t so certain.
Lady Barrington, though, looked set. She got to her feet. Coolly, calmly, she stood over Mrs Jessop. My eyes followed.
‘You could have saved my son,’ her Ladyship said again.
One moment she stood still. The next she lunged forward. Arms flailing, hair flying, she went for Mrs Jessop like a wildcat. The housekeeper shrank back, horrified.
‘Lady Barrington! Please!’ My own voice came out strong.
I rushed to her and tried to grab her arms. She twisted from me. Went for Mrs Jessop again, swiping at her face. The force of it made her stagger. As she almost fell, I grabbed her round the waist. Locked both my arms right round her. Flip knows what I was doing, touching a lady like that. But it was the stillest part of her. Even so she was strong, lunging and kicking with all her might. Mrs Jessop cowered like a cornered dog. It was pitiful.
‘You must stop!’ I cried.
‘But she could have saved him!’
I held her tighter. Her skin burned hot through her frock.
‘It’s too late,’ I said. ‘It won’t bring him back.’
Her Ladyship shuddered. Suddenly, she went limp. Her legs sagged and I seemed now to be holding her up. Then, quite feebly, she shrugged me off and crossed to the window.
‘One word. Just one word,’ she whispered, her breath misting up the glass.
Mrs Jessop sobbed quietly, but I watched her Ladyship close, not sure what she’d do next. What she did was simple.
She stood gazing out over the gardens to the lake beyond, as if all the answers lay there. At last, she looked away. Her hand went to the small gold brooch at her throat and she returned to her chair again. Tears poured down her cheeks and dripped unchecked off her chin.
Watching her Ladyship, my own eyes filled up too and that ache was in my chest again. It grew and grew ’til it spread up my throat and I could barely breathe.
No one spoke. No one moved. The pain passed between us like a queer energy, holding us tight together.
I wondered at my own grief, so strange and strong. Only now I realised what was hurting. And it wasn’t all about Kit. I was hurting for my own ma, who’d lost a daughter, and for Pa who’d chosen his dream over me. It was too much to think of at once. I thought I’d die if I tried.
I don’t know how long we sat there. Drops of rain streaked against the window, and the room had grown chill. In the grate the fire was no more than a heap of ashes. Eventually, Lady Barrington saw it too. She gave a small sigh, nothing more.
Thinking her still dazed, I got up to add more coals.
‘Leave it,’ she said.
I stopped, bewildered.
More gently, she said, ‘Please be seated. I have something to say.’
I put the pan down and took my seat again.
Lady Barrington turned to Mrs Jessop. In a faltering voice, she said, ‘It was monstrous of me to keep you from Ada. I should have let you go to her.’
Mrs Jessop looked stunned. ‘But I did go to her,’ she said, her own voice thick with tears. ‘I went against your word. I had to. That’s where I was going when I passed by the lake.’
‘Oh.’
Her Ladyship seemed to weigh this up for a moment. Then with a firm shake of her head, she said, ‘No, we must realise. Kit chose to go skating. We cannot change that. Really Mrs Jessop, no one is to blame.’
‘But don’t you see . . . ?’
Lady Barrington stopped her. ‘Enough. This doesn’t help us now.’ She hesitated. ‘Tell me, did you reach Ada in time?’
‘She died moments after I got there. She didn’t know me, but I was able to kiss her goodbye.’
Her Ladyship reached for Mrs Jessop’s hand. ‘Then I’m glad you had that much at least.’
Nobody said a word.
Yet to me it looked like forgiveness.
And the queerest sensation ran through me, like a great stone had been rolled off my chest, and I could breathe again at last. We were still surrounded by Kit’s own things, unchanged for ten whole years. Everything seemed just as it was. Yet it wasn’t. Something had shifted. We’d heard the truth at last.
What Will had said had been right, too; Lady Barrington and Mrs Jessop had done shoddy things, kept secrets, told lies. And they’d both lost someone dear. Yet what they did, they did for love, though it mightn’t have always looked that way. This was what Kit and Ada never realised.
I’d imagined what this moment might be like, when I knew Kit might finally rest in peace. But any gladness I’d expected didn’t come. Instead, I felt strangely flat. And ever so, ever so weary.
‘You’re exhausted, poor girl,’ Lady Barrington said to me.
I was. Tired to my very bones. It was morning and I hadn’t even yet been to bed. I rose from my seat. Mrs Jessop stood up too and caught hold of my arm as I swayed on my feet. She gazed at me almost tenderly. It was a look I’d seen on my own ma’s face when we’d parted company just a few days ago.
Of a sudden, my heart was full.
I’d not reckoned on my mother’s love. As long as I could remember, she’d favoured Eliza over me, and it was Pa who’d always loved me best. Or so I’d thought until now. Because I’d seen the pain of what it is to lose a child, and yet my pa had walked out on me without even a backward glance.
Not Ma. She’d always been there, and always would be. No dream would take her away.
‘I want to go home,’ I said.
‘Get some sleep first,’ said Lady Barrington. ‘Let’s not do anything rash.’
She came towards me and cupped my face in her hands. ‘You’ve done us a great service today. You’ve opened our eyes to each other’s pain.’
Then she crossed to the window and raised the sash. Sweet, fresh air flooded in.