Read The Morrow Secrets Online

Authors: Susan McNally

The Morrow Secrets (7 page)

BOOK: The Morrow Secrets
5.09Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

‘Oh Miss, I don’t know.’
But Tallitha would not stop. ‘I must know who she is! And today I found this sampler with the initials ‘A’ and ‘M’ embroidered on it. You have to tell me,’ insisted Tallitha.
Cissie sat down on the bed next to Tallitha and gently stroked her arm.
‘Some things are best left unsaid, my pet. The family have thought best not to tell you. Happen they will in their own good time.’
‘But maybe they won’t ever tell me. So you have to!’
Tallitha squeezed Cissie’s hand.
‘Oh you could never be a patient child. Always headstrong, it’ll get you into trouble and me too, no doubt,’ said Cissie shaking her head.
‘It won’t, come on, tell me,’ said Tallitha refusing to give up.
Cissie continued sorting the linen and sighed. ‘Well, your Great Aunt Agatha did have a daughter. Oh I shouldn’t be telling you this...’
Tallitha just kept mouthing the words ‘please, please’ to Cissie in a desperate way.
‘I don’t know Miss. If the Grand Morrow should find out I said anything...’
‘Tell me Cissie, come on.’
‘Promise me you won’t tell where you ’eard it from,’ she said finally.
‘I promise, cross my heart and hope to die!’ she said dramatically.
Cissie shook her head at Tallitha’s antics and continued.
‘This... girl was called Asenathe, and she disappeared some time ago. Went off, or maybe she was taken, one night it was. No one knows for sure.’
Tallitha grabbed hold of Cissie’s hand.
‘Asenathe, what a strange name? But there must be more. How old was she? What was she like? Was she pretty? What did she like doing? Tell me,’ pleaded Tallitha.
Cissie held up her hands for Tallitha to stop her barrage of questions. ‘Oh Miss, do stop goin’ on so. No one talks about it downstairs anymore. Mrs Armitage has given strict instructions not to gossip about the family.’
‘But this isn’t gossiping, is it Cissie? It’s what really happened,’ replied Tallitha looking pleased with herself.
‘Eh Miss, if you’re not fishing for summat, you’re mending your nets, plotting and planning, you’ve always been the same. You don’t let a body rest.’
Tallitha just kept mouthing ‘please’ at her exasperated nurse. Cissie shook her head, sighed and eventually gave in.
‘I think, but mind, I don’t know for sure, that she was about your age. Fourteen or fifteen, maybe a bit older, but not by that much.’
‘What else do you know?’
‘Now this is it, ’tis all I know. I don’t know no more Miss, so you ’ave to stop pestering me if I tell you, promise me now,’ insisted Cissie at the end of her tether.
‘OK, if you’re sure this is all you know. When you’ve told me I’ll stop, I promise.’
Cissie folded her arms and looked out of the window taking a moment to consider what to tell Tallitha and what not to tell her. She was a persistent child and no mistake. But Cissie knew she would have to tell her something to shut her up. She smoothed her apron and folded her hands in her lap.
‘I ’eard tell that before Miss Asenathe went missing, there was trouble. Things weren’t right between the girl and her mother. Some fallin’ out I think but it’s probably just a rumour. People like to make up stories if they don’t know the truth so don’t put too much store by it and for goodness sake don’t tell any of the sisters or your mother what I told you, or I’ll be for the high jump and no mistake.’
Tallitha let out an excited scream and pummelled the bed.
‘I promise Cissie, I’ve already said I won’t tell and thank you!’
Tallitha kissed her nurse on her warm plump cheek. It was true then. There was a daughter and she was the heir to the Morrow family, not her. Now Tallitha just had to find the missing girl.
‘Perhaps you were right about the holed stones protecting us at night. Is that because of Asenathe going missing?’
Cissie bit her lip and looked sadly towards the dark mountains. Then she rallied and patted Tallitha’s hand reassuringly. ‘Well, you may laugh at old Cissie, but I know a thing or two. The holed stones are special and will keep you safe from the dooerlins.’
Tallitha flopped back on the bed and let out a huge sigh. She was satisfied for the moment but she could tell there were more secrets to be unearthed.
She waited for Cissie to finish her chores then she went into her study and picked up the small leather book from the sisters’ library. It had curious lettering unlike any alphabet she had ever seen before and the twisted shapes were strangely like the stitches in the sampler.
Tallitha had to find out what all the clues meant.
Strange things about her peculiar family were beginning to fall into place.

Chapter Seven
Toads, Whisperings and Wanderings

The next morning Tyaas gobbled down his breakfast. He would begin by searching the library on the ground floor. Miss Raisethorne was always badgering him to do more reading, so he had a ready excuse if he was disturbed. Unfortunately the library was quite useless. What was the point of all these books if you couldn’t find what you wanted! So he started skulking around the grandfather clock to see if any of the servants came out of the green door. After what seemed like hours, no one emerged, which convinced Tyaas that he was correct. He paced the distance from the bottom of the stairs to the old clock. Twenty-one, twenty-two steps, he said to himself. They must make absolutely certain no one was around when they came down after dark. He couldn’t wait!

Happy with his contribution to the forthcoming adventure, Tyaas decided to reward himself with a glistening toad. The sun parlour was just the place to find one and he tootled along at a jaunty pace, whistling and looking forward to telling Tallitha the news about the entrance to the lower floors. The sun parlour was a glorious room bursting with exotic plants that reached all the way to the glass ceiling. Tyaas bent down by one of the small pools to examine a fat toad whose back legs were peeping out from the lapping water.

Toads were endlessly fascinating and Tyaas often carried one in his pocket, croaking away at meal times, much to his delight and the horror of his sister. But just as he was about to bag another unsuspecting specimen he was distracted by a noise. Someone else was in the conservatory. There, behind one of the huge leafy banana plants Tyaas spied two shroves huddled together in conversation. He carefully released the toad back into the warm pool with a plop and moved on all fours across the tiled floor, keeping his body low and ending up behind the enormous plant. The shroves were whispering together.

‘Spirrrnthndas al na durnath nem kemporan. Encrremblan dur na clerna ni fenran.’
‘Nan trath an doorn ken lam naen. Ne ne kemporan derna canlera del ae nan trath.’

Tyaas peered through the leaves, watching the shroves as they snitched and gossiped. They were up to some skulduggery, he was certain of that. Grintley bent towards Florré and pointed towards the old house, his mouth salivating while the other shrove rubbed his hands together and hopped about. Whatever the infernal pair were up to, it was some wickedness. Tyaas inched stealthily towards the conservatory door.

But nothing much got past a shrove and they smelt the boy before they saw him. Florré and Grintley were shrove-cousins and their bond was unbreakable. They disliked Tyaas as much as his sister. Nasty children who could not keep to their rooms, constantly on the move, poking their noses into things that didn’t concern them. But the sneaky shroves continued muttering to each other and pretended they hadn’t seen the boy.

Tyaas slid out of the conservatory and ran into the nearest greenhouse, nearly colliding with a gardener, one of the Skinks, carrying a bundle of sacks.

‘Whoa there!’ she shouted, ‘watch it!’
‘Sorry,’ shouted Tyaas as he slipped, then sped out of the rear door. The Skink watched Tyaas disappear as a shrove scampered past her

and began spying on the boy. Then Florré turned and hissed at the Skink and she bristled. They hated one another. The enmity between them went back for generations but in Winderling Spires the shroves held the upper hand and the tall Skink let the matter pass.

Panting and dirty, Tyaas raced up the main staircase and bumped into Cissie who was ambling along with a load of ironing.
‘Where’re you rushing off to? It’s unlucky to pass on’t stairs. There’ll be a consequence and no mistake. Both you and your sister ’ave been flying round like mad ferrets all mornin’. What’s gotten into you?’ Cissie clicked her tongue.
‘Sorry Cissie. Is Tallitha in her room?’ asked Tyaas, breathless.
‘She is and you know what...’ said Cissie, but Tyaas didn’t stop to hear the rest.
He flew up the next staircase and burst into the sitting room, calling Tallitha’s name.
‘In here, quick! I have something to tell you,’ she shouted from her bedroom.
Tallitha was sitting at her desk surrounded by sheets of paper and the old book.
‘The shroves,’ he shouted breathlessly, ‘I heard them plotting.’
‘What? Me too! But never mind them for a moment. Look at this sampler. It’s got the initials ‘A’ and ‘M’ on it. Perhaps it belonged to Asenathe. What do you think?’
But the lettering was too complicated for Tyaas.
‘I’ve been trying to decipher the script from one of the sisters’ books but it’s so difficult. I think it’s the name of someone, or something.’
‘Oh, heck Tallitha, I have no idea. Maybe you should ask Grandmamma?’
‘Actually, I did ask someone about the girl,’ she said, watching his reaction.
‘Tell me, come on!’ he shouted excitedly.
‘I can tell you, I suppose,’ she said teasing. ‘Only I promised not to tell the ancient ones and mother! I asked Cissie about it, but you mustn’t let her know you know... when you know... If you know what I mean!’ spluttered Tallitha.
Tyaas had no idea what she was talking about but listened just the same.
‘Well go on then, what did she say?’
Tallitha savoured the moment, twisting her hair round her fingers.
‘Come on!’ exclaimed Tyaas, ‘it’s too exciting.’
‘Well she was reticent at first. But I got it out of her. She said that Asenathe is Agatha’s daughter but she doesn’t know where she is. No one does. She thinks there was a falling out, and then Asenathe left the Spires or was taken away at night.’
‘Wow that’s incredible! I can’t believe you asked her, Sis, and I can’t believe she told you. How did it happen?’
Tallitha explained about finding the sampler and the book and how Florré had stalked her down the corridors.
‘You see, I was so scared, I raced into my bedroom and banged the door behind me. I must have looked frightful. Cissie would not let me be, and it all came out. And now I’m trying to decipher the words in the sampler.’
Tyaas looked away nervously. ‘The shroves scared me too today. Isn’t that odd? I was in the sun parlour and I overheard them plotting together. They’re up to no good,’ he said quietly.
Brother and sister exchanged worried glances. Never before had they been scared of the shroves. They had never liked their insidious, grovelling ways, but what had just happened to them both was quite different. They were wary and a little scared, and in their own house too. Something was afoot. There was a new sense of danger in Winderling Spires they had never experienced before. It was sinister and it had to do with shroves. They would have to be extra vigilant when they went in search of the house plans.

*

Nightfall came soundlessly, falling swiftly over Wycham Moor until it swallowed up the Spires in its dark heavy jaws. Shards of moonlight glinted through the trees casting jagged shadows across the extensive lawns and meadows. When the house was finally asleep and silence had descended, Tallitha crept from her bed and tip-toed into her brother’s bedroom. Tyaas was wide awake, lying fully dressed beneath the covers, impatiently waiting for their midnight adventure to begin.

The journey downstairs was one they had made many times before, just not at the dead of night. They crept along the shrouded corridors, anticipating all the creaks that awaited them on the dark staircase as they watched the moonlight flickering through the trees, dancing wildly with the shadows on the wooden floor of the grand hallway.

Tyaas took Tallitha’s hand and whispered to her, ‘Twenty-two paces, remember, quickly now.’
They darted from the bottom of the staircase, counting each step until they reached the safety of the shadows, hiding breathlessly behind the old clock. The house was eerily silent apart from the tick-tocking of the grandfather clock as they entered the narrow space at the top of the servants’ staircase. Tyaas hurriedly lit one of the lanterns, shading it with his hand as the flame spluttered in the upward, howling draughts. The stairway was cold as a knife as they pressed their bodies against the stone wall and moved slowly down into the heavy darkness. The passageways were narrower in the servants’ quarters than in the rest of the Spires and the light from their lantern licked up the dark stone walls drawing haunting shadows all about them. They made their way to the door at the end of the passageway and stepped gingerly into the largest of the three kitchens.
‘Come on, let’s go this way,’ whispered Tallitha, creeping under the kitchen implements hanging from racks above them, shining dagger-like in the candlelight.
Cissie had mentioned that the kitchen staff could never take a break from their chores because Mrs Armitage watched them through the glass panel outside her office. Tallitha noticed the glass corridor and, keeping a sharp look out, they moved towards it. There before them was the name plate for the Housekeeper’s office on the last door but one. Tallitha turned the handle and by the light of their lantern, the cosy room took shape. In one corner there was a desk and chair, a little day-bed and a small fireplace with a hob to make tea. On the wall above the desk were the staff rotas detailing the servants’ shifts and the cleaning and laundry duties over the coming weeks. Tallitha began searching the desk while Tyaas studied the work rotas on the notice board. The world of the sleeping servants was gradually being revealed to them.
‘I’m glad we aren’t servants,’ said Tyaas sadly.
He was a sweet boy but completely unaware how his clothes got washed or his trousers were miraculously mended. They just ended up back in his drawers, clean and pressed.
‘Did you know that we have six scullery maids and they have to clean the kitchen floors twice a day and scrub all the stoves?’ he said incredulously. ‘I feel sorry for them.’
Tallitha smiled indulgently at her younger brother. He would be giving the servants extra holidays next.
‘Shhh, let’s get on,’ she said, sifting through piles of receipts and endless lists.
Tyaas gasped at just how little the servants were paid and giggled at their first names.
‘Did you know that the footman, the one with the red curly hair, is called Archibald,’ he laughed. ‘He’s married to Nora, one of the downstairs parlour maids from Wycham village.’
‘Shh, I can’t believe you didn’t know that,’ answered Tallitha in hushed tones.
Almost at once Tyaas tugged on his sister’s sleeve. There, on the inside of the cupboard door was a floor plan. Tallitha opened the other cupboard doors and more plans were displayed. They stared in wonder as the enormity of Winderling Spires was laid out before them as they had never seen it before.
‘The South Wing has eight, nine, ten floors and half-floors with so many staircases,’ said Tyaas incredulously, attempting to count them all.
They each took one of the plans in turn and searched every floor meticulously.
‘It’s the same problem all over the house. You think you’ve found the staircase up to the next floor but when you look again it doesn’t make sense,’ said Tyaas, scratching his head.
The interconnection of floors, half-floors and landings was bewildering.
‘This wing’s been shut up for years,’ said Tallitha sadly.
Tallitha and Tyaas were fascinated by the picture of the Spires staring back at them, where whole sections of the old house had been closed up and forgotten.
‘Look, Sir Humphrey’s Apartment, Study, Sitting Room, Gun Room, Valet’s room. I wonder who he is?’ asked Tyaas.
‘Whoever he is, the South Wing is abandoned. Keep looking for Asenathe’s name,’ whispered Tallitha.
Tyaas eventually located the plan they had been searching for. ‘Up on the fifth floor ‒ a suite of rooms with Miss Morrow’s bedchamber, Miss Morrow’s study, dressing room, receiving sitting room, bathroom suite and library,’ said Tallitha excitedly.
‘That’s not fair, she gets an enormous sitting room and a library and we don’t!’ complained Tyaas.
Tallitha pushed him. ‘Shhh, it doesn’t matter, and don’t make a noise. Bother, we forgot to bring a pen and paper. We’ll just have to memorise the location,’ she whispered.
‘But where’s her apartment in relation to the rest of the house?’ asked Tyaas blankly.
No matter how much they studied the floor plans they couldn’t work out how each floor was connected to the one above.
‘Remember what you can and we’ll make it up as we go along,’ said Tallitha finally, ‘at least we know it’s somewhere on the fifth floor.’
They closed the cupboard doors, doused the lantern and tip-toed out of the housekeeper’s parlour. But as Tyaas stepped into the corridor he stiffened. There was a noise coming from the kitchen. Tyaas spied two shroves through the glass panel. They were moving boxes about in the large kitchen. Tyaas grabbed Tallitha and pulled her to the floor.
‘Shhhh, get down. Marlin and Grintley are out there,’ he whispered feverishly.
They listened to crates being scraped across the floor. After a while, Tallitha poked her head just far enough over the wooden panel so she could watch the shroves through the glass panel. They were heaving wooden boxes out of one of the large pantries. Then they quickly slipped inside the pantry and closed the door behind them. Tyaas tugged on her jumper.
‘What’s happening?’
‘They’ve disappeared inside the pantry. Come on, let’s spy on them for a change,’ she said impishly.
They crept to the pantry door and listened. It was ominously quiet and they tentatively stepped inside. It was an ordinary kitchen pantry filled with jams, pickles and cold meats resting on a wooden bench that ran along both walls. But underneath the bench, at the back next to the wall, was a trapdoor, and it was open. The hole was steely-black.
‘Come on,’ said Tallitha, tugging on Tyaas’s jacket.
They held onto each other tightly as they inched down into the dark hole. At the bottom of the stairs they stopped and the hair stood up on the back of Tyaas’s neck. It was pitch-black under the Spires, cold as the grave and deadly silent.
‘Either we have to go back, or we light the lantern. You choose,’ whispered Tallitha apprehensively into her brother’s ear.
Tyaas immediately struck a match and the strong smell of sulphur laced the stale air. As their eyes became accustomed to the spluttering light, a strange world opened up in front of them. It was a messy hole littered with the remnants of half-eaten meals, flagons of berry juice and wooden crates piled high in one corner. There were six small burrows carved from the rock, filled with tattered blankets and bits of old pillow, shaped into nesting material.
‘It’s one of the shrove-lairs,’ whispered Tallitha peering into a smelly burrow.
The place stank of old shrove, too many of the fetid creatures living together in one confined space. The lingering tang of unwashed clothes and greasy food sat heavily in each burrow. Tallitha pinched her nose, reeling back from the stench.
‘But where are they?’ asked Tyaas bewildered.
‘Beats me,’ said Tallitha. ‘There must be another way out, way down there,’ she said, pointing towards a tunnel which smelled of soaked leaves in the rain, peaty and dank.
The dingy tunnel narrowed and sloped away into the flat-darkness. They could hear the distant sound of water, drip-dropping away under the big house into the cold, damp ground.
‘Where do you think it leads?’ asked Tyaas nervously.
Tallitha bit her lip and shook her head. ‘The shroves mean to keep this a secret. Let’s get out of here before they come back.’
They retraced their steps back to their apartment, edging uneasily through the dark shadows of the great house.

BOOK: The Morrow Secrets
5.09Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

In Search of Lost Time by Marcel Proust
Annabelle Weston by Scandalous Woman
Ghost Story by Peter Straub
Una campaña civil by Lois McMaster Bujold
The Texans by Brett Cogburn
Bootscootin' Blahniks by D. D. Scott
Lastnight by Stephen Leather