| General Fiction posted February 13, 2022 | Chapters: |
...5 6 -7- 8... 
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Margot loses her temper with Bessie
A chapter in the book The Return
The Return Chap 7
by Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
End of Chap 6
Feeling she should explain further, although she didn’t know why, she told Bessie how she’d thought it would be nice to take a look inside the church.
‘But it’s locked up. I’ll come another day, a bit later, in the afternoon, maybe.’ She knew she was rambling, and took a deep breath. ‘Now I’m here, I thought it would be a nice idea to try and find Meg and Miles’ graves. That’s if they are buried here, of course. If they are, perhaps I could tidy their graves up?’
Bessie nodded. ‘That’s a good idea. I’s doubting many people even know about her.’ She looked beyond Margot’s shoulders and pointed to a spot. ‘Mistress Meg is just there,’ she said, pointing to the grave. ‘And Lord Miles is buried beside her.’
Margot turned around to see where Bessie was pointing, and moved slowly towards them. Bessie stood back and watched. The nearer Margot got, the harder she found it to breathe and, with her feet dragging heavily now, she had to force herself to keep going.
I don’t think I can do this.
Chapter 7
Margot stopped. Unable to move, she concentrated on the back of the two graves. She knew she would have to take a look, even if it was just to confirm Meg was actually buried there.
So, why have I got this creepy feeling ... one of them belongs to me? For goodness sake, now I'm being ridiculous, I'm here, and I'm alive ... aren't I? Just to prove it, Margot pinched her arm. Yes, I'm definitely alive.
She looked over her shoulder to see if Bessie was still there. She was, and quietly watching her. Margot gave a weak smile. ‘It feels as if I’m intruding, that I shouldn’t be here. At the same time, I know I have to read the epitaph.’
Bessie moved up and stood beside her. ‘I’s with you if’n you need me. Take your time.’
They both stood lost in their own world, Bessie’s face giving away nothing, whilst Margot’s indecision was as clear as if it had been tattooed on her forehead.
I can’t do this. I really don’t want to do this!
‘Which one of them is Miles’ resting place?’ Margot asked, knowing she was only putting off the moment. But it might give her the push she needed.
‘That one,’ Bessie pointed to the grave that was so close to Megs, it was almost touching. ‘He were determined to lay next to her until…’ She coughed. ‘I’s sorry, but I’ve got a tickle in the back of my throat,’ she said, adding another cough as if to prove it. She continued coughing until she saw Margot move over to Miles’ grave.
Bessie gave an occasional cough whenever Margot looked back at her. Then, what she’d been hoping for finally happened. Margot was kneeling beside Miles’ headstone, rubbing away the lichen to see his name.
‘You’d think the church would tend the graves of those who no longer have family to do it, wouldn’t you?’ Margot remarked as she continued pulling off the lichen. Once the letters were legible, she looked closer at the dates. ‘It says he was born on the twelve of July 1850, and died on the twentieth of January 1940. He was nearly ninety years old! He lived to a great old age.’
‘Yes, he did. They weren’t happy years, though. He never got over losing Mistress Meg.’
But you were worth waiting for, my sweet Meg. The words seemed to float in the air, then gently move like a caress through Margot’s mind.
Margot pulled herself up and looked around. ‘He’s here.’ She turned to Bessie. ‘But you knew that, didn’t you?’
Bessie kept quiet. Waiting and watching,
‘You want me to go to Meg’s grave now, don’t you? Well, I’m not. I want to know what the hell is going on before I do that.’ She glared at Bessie with defiant, challenging eyes.
Not receiving any comments, Margot turned on her heel and walked away with Bessie chasing after her.
‘I’s don’t know much more’n you do,’ she said. ‘I just know you belong together.’
Margot spun around furiously. ‘He’s dead, Bessie! And if you hadn’t noticed, I’m alive! What do you want me to do … kill myself?’
‘No! Course I don’t.’ Bessie shifted her focus to the ground, not able to look Margot in the eyes.
‘Look, Bessie, I am not Meg. As much as you and Miles’ ghost might like to think I am, I am not!’ With that, Margot turned and ran off, leaving a forlorn Bessie staring after her.
Back at the house, Margot managed to regain control of her emotions. Then, without the faintest idea why, she went up to the attic.
‘This has got to be where the answers are,’ she muttered. ‘But first, I have to understand the questions.’ Her eyes moved over the trunks and stopped at the one containing the wedding gown. Lifting the lid, she pulled the dress out and held it up.
It’s stunning. What a shame you didn't get to wear it. She gently replaced it, then opened the trunk beside it. There was a dress at the top.
‘I don’t remember seeing this one last time.’ She picked it up and held it out to get a better look. It was a beautiful emerald green, with a sequined bodice, and short puffed sleeves with a lace trim. It was obviously a ball gown.
Just like the time she first held the wedding dress, she saw herself dressed in the exquisite gown. Music was playing, Margot closed her eyes as she listened to the sounds that floated around her. Then she was being swept around the ballroom, dancing the waltz, laughing up into his face, Miles’ face. Oh, how handsome he was. Her heart was full to bursting with love for him. She wanted it to be like this forever. To stay in his arms.
‘I was right. The green matches the colour of your emerald eyes, perfectly,’ he whispered into her hair, his smile captured in the warmth of his voice. ‘And those sequins make them sparkle like diamonds in starlight. You are so beautiful, my sweet Meg. Please come back to me…’ His voice faded as the music drifted away leaving Margot alone in the attic again. Her heart ached; tears slid softly over her cheeks.
‘Oh!’ The dress slipped from Margot's grasp. ‘What just happened?’ She wiped her hand over her wet cheeks, still painfully aware of the emptiness inside her heart.
She sat down on the nearest trunk and picked up the dress; holding it close, she tried to recall his face. It was a blur, but she had seen it, and she remembered thinking he was so handsome.
Margot stood up and, still holding the dress, she raced down to her bedroom. Stripping off her clothes, she stood in front of the full-length mirror and stepped into the gown. She couldn’t reach to do up all the tiny pearl buttons at the back, so held it together with one hand and stared at her reflection.
‘Oh, Mistress Meg!’ Bessie came over and did up the little buttons. ‘I’s knew it was you.’
That Margot hadn’t heard her coming up the stairs didn’t surprise her at all. She realised this was going to keep happening, and in that moment, she made her decision.
‘Bessie. I don’t know exactly what you are, or where you came from. You could be a ghost, or someone who has discovered the secret of immortality, but I do know you have something to do with what’s been happening; so how about you start talking. If you want my help, I need to know everything you know. I have to be prepared for whatever will happen when I go and see Meg’s grave.’
Bessie sucked in her bottom lip and held it tight with her teeth. Her eyes glazed over as she appeared to think about it. ‘Can we talk over a cup of that nice coffee?’
Margot rolled her eyes and laughed. ‘Okay. Help me out of this and I’ll put my own clothes back on.’
The buttons were the fiddliest, but Bessie soon had them undone and helped Margot step out of the gown.
‘I think I’ll keep it down here,’ Margot said, draping it over her arm. ‘I’ll use one of the spare bedrooms to put it in for now.'
‘I’ll go and put the kettle on,’ Bessie told her. She’d soon learned how to make a pot of coffee, and the packets of tea had been relegated to the back of the cupboard. By the time Margot joined her in the kitchen, Bessie had everything ready.
‘So, tell me all you know about what happened to Miles after Meg’s death,’ Margot said, after the coffee was poured. ‘Oh, do you fancy a biscuit with it? I’ve got some nice digestive dunkers.’ Before Bessie could answer, Margot was bringing the biscuit tin to the table.
‘Dunkers? What’s them?’
Margot opened the tin and took out one of the plain biscuits. ‘These,’ she said, dipping the biscuit into the coffee before eating it. ‘It’s lovely, try it.’
‘I’s gonna take your word for it,’ she smiled. ‘I’s liking my coffee as it is.’ She took a sip and almost purred. ‘Now, let’s see. What was Miles like after Mistress Meg’s death? Broken, in a word. He never recovered. She were the only woman he ever loved.’
‘Didn’t he ever find someone he could be happy with?’
‘He never looked. He never went to the society parties to meet anyone. In fact, he became more of a recluse. It were sad. His father kept on at him to get married and give him an heir. Sometimes I’s thinking it were Miles’ way of getting his own back on his Lordship.’
'What happened to the estate after Miles died? Was there another cousin ... someone who would inherit it?'
'Well, that's the thing. He didn't leave it to no one. He had a friend who were a solicitor and said he were to take the money from the estate and invest it. But he said they had to use some to take care of the house until such a day came when a person would come to claim it.
'He gave his friend two letters and said they must be passed on unopened until that time came. One would be for the solicitor, and the other for the claimant.'
Margot thought about that; it did make sense. 'And you know all this because...?'
Bess shrugged. 'I just do.'
Did I really expect a proper answer? ‘What I can’t understand is, Meg is dead and so is Miles. Why didn’t he go and join her? Why is he hanging around down here?’
There was a rather lengthy silence as Margot waited for Bessie’s answer.
‘He’s been waiting for you to come back to him.’
Continued….
Characters
Margot Crawley: A bank teller who has had her life turned upside down by an amorous ghost. She saw a house in the estate agent's window, and was so attracted to it, she ended up buying it even though she hadn’t wanted to move. What made her do such an uncharacteristic thing? She believes it was the house itself.
Bessie: The housekeeper who was there when Margot moved in. What is she? What does she know? Bessie is an enigma and Margot is determined to discover what she knows.
Meg Crawley: A woman from the 1800s who is somehow linked with Margot. But how? Margot discovers that Mistress Meg once lived in her house before her untimely death. Things are becoming very mysterious.
Miles Brandon: Once betrothed to Meg, but after her father committed suicide creating such a scandal because of the debts he left from gambling. Miles is told to call off the wedding before it brought the scandal to his own doorstep.
Lord Brandon: Miles’ Father linked with Meg’s death.
Richard Crawley: Meg’s brother. Fallen out with Meg and his mother. Blames his mother for his father’s gambling.
Margot’s amorous ghost: is like the magnet who has drawn Margot to the house. Bessie is there to spin the web and keep her there. But for what purpose? They are from completely different times.
End of Chap 6
Feeling she should explain further, although she didn’t know why, she told Bessie how she’d thought it would be nice to take a look inside the church.
‘But it’s locked up. I’ll come another day, a bit later, in the afternoon, maybe.’ She knew she was rambling, and took a deep breath. ‘Now I’m here, I thought it would be a nice idea to try and find Meg and Miles’ graves. That’s if they are buried here, of course. If they are, perhaps I could tidy their graves up?’
Bessie nodded. ‘That’s a good idea. I’s doubting many people even know about her.’ She looked beyond Margot’s shoulders and pointed to a spot. ‘Mistress Meg is just there,’ she said, pointing to the grave. ‘And Lord Miles is buried beside her.’
Margot turned around to see where Bessie was pointing, and moved slowly towards them. Bessie stood back and watched. The nearer Margot got, the harder she found it to breathe and, with her feet dragging heavily now, she had to force herself to keep going.
I don’t think I can do this.
Chapter 7
Margot stopped. Unable to move, she concentrated on the back of the two graves. She knew she would have to take a look, even if it was just to confirm Meg was actually buried there.
So, why have I got this creepy feeling ... one of them belongs to me? For goodness sake, now I'm being ridiculous, I'm here, and I'm alive ... aren't I? Just to prove it, Margot pinched her arm. Yes, I'm definitely alive.
She looked over her shoulder to see if Bessie was still there. She was, and quietly watching her. Margot gave a weak smile. ‘It feels as if I’m intruding, that I shouldn’t be here. At the same time, I know I have to read the epitaph.’
Bessie moved up and stood beside her. ‘I’s with you if’n you need me. Take your time.’
They both stood lost in their own world, Bessie’s face giving away nothing, whilst Margot’s indecision was as clear as if it had been tattooed on her forehead.
I can’t do this. I really don’t want to do this!
‘Which one of them is Miles’ resting place?’ Margot asked, knowing she was only putting off the moment. But it might give her the push she needed.
‘That one,’ Bessie pointed to the grave that was so close to Megs, it was almost touching. ‘He were determined to lay next to her until…’ She coughed. ‘I’s sorry, but I’ve got a tickle in the back of my throat,’ she said, adding another cough as if to prove it. She continued coughing until she saw Margot move over to Miles’ grave.
Bessie gave an occasional cough whenever Margot looked back at her. Then, what she’d been hoping for finally happened. Margot was kneeling beside Miles’ headstone, rubbing away the lichen to see his name.
‘You’d think the church would tend the graves of those who no longer have family to do it, wouldn’t you?’ Margot remarked as she continued pulling off the lichen. Once the letters were legible, she looked closer at the dates. ‘It says he was born on the twelve of July 1850, and died on the twentieth of January 1940. He was nearly ninety years old! He lived to a great old age.’
‘Yes, he did. They weren’t happy years, though. He never got over losing Mistress Meg.’
But you were worth waiting for, my sweet Meg. The words seemed to float in the air, then gently move like a caress through Margot’s mind.
Margot pulled herself up and looked around. ‘He’s here.’ She turned to Bessie. ‘But you knew that, didn’t you?’
Bessie kept quiet. Waiting and watching,
‘You want me to go to Meg’s grave now, don’t you? Well, I’m not. I want to know what the hell is going on before I do that.’ She glared at Bessie with defiant, challenging eyes.
Not receiving any comments, Margot turned on her heel and walked away with Bessie chasing after her.
‘I’s don’t know much more’n you do,’ she said. ‘I just know you belong together.’
Margot spun around furiously. ‘He’s dead, Bessie! And if you hadn’t noticed, I’m alive! What do you want me to do … kill myself?’
‘No! Course I don’t.’ Bessie shifted her focus to the ground, not able to look Margot in the eyes.
‘Look, Bessie, I am not Meg. As much as you and Miles’ ghost might like to think I am, I am not!’ With that, Margot turned and ran off, leaving a forlorn Bessie staring after her.
Back at the house, Margot managed to regain control of her emotions. Then, without the faintest idea why, she went up to the attic.
‘This has got to be where the answers are,’ she muttered. ‘But first, I have to understand the questions.’ Her eyes moved over the trunks and stopped at the one containing the wedding gown. Lifting the lid, she pulled the dress out and held it up.
It’s stunning. What a shame you didn't get to wear it. She gently replaced it, then opened the trunk beside it. There was a dress at the top.
‘I don’t remember seeing this one last time.’ She picked it up and held it out to get a better look. It was a beautiful emerald green, with a sequined bodice, and short puffed sleeves with a lace trim. It was obviously a ball gown.
Just like the time she first held the wedding dress, she saw herself dressed in the exquisite gown. Music was playing, Margot closed her eyes as she listened to the sounds that floated around her. Then she was being swept around the ballroom, dancing the waltz, laughing up into his face, Miles’ face. Oh, how handsome he was. Her heart was full to bursting with love for him. She wanted it to be like this forever. To stay in his arms.
‘I was right. The green matches the colour of your emerald eyes, perfectly,’ he whispered into her hair, his smile captured in the warmth of his voice. ‘And those sequins make them sparkle like diamonds in starlight. You are so beautiful, my sweet Meg. Please come back to me…’ His voice faded as the music drifted away leaving Margot alone in the attic again. Her heart ached; tears slid softly over her cheeks.
‘Oh!’ The dress slipped from Margot's grasp. ‘What just happened?’ She wiped her hand over her wet cheeks, still painfully aware of the emptiness inside her heart.
She sat down on the nearest trunk and picked up the dress; holding it close, she tried to recall his face. It was a blur, but she had seen it, and she remembered thinking he was so handsome.
Margot stood up and, still holding the dress, she raced down to her bedroom. Stripping off her clothes, she stood in front of the full-length mirror and stepped into the gown. She couldn’t reach to do up all the tiny pearl buttons at the back, so held it together with one hand and stared at her reflection.
‘Oh, Mistress Meg!’ Bessie came over and did up the little buttons. ‘I’s knew it was you.’
That Margot hadn’t heard her coming up the stairs didn’t surprise her at all. She realised this was going to keep happening, and in that moment, she made her decision.
‘Bessie. I don’t know exactly what you are, or where you came from. You could be a ghost, or someone who has discovered the secret of immortality, but I do know you have something to do with what’s been happening; so how about you start talking. If you want my help, I need to know everything you know. I have to be prepared for whatever will happen when I go and see Meg’s grave.’
Bessie sucked in her bottom lip and held it tight with her teeth. Her eyes glazed over as she appeared to think about it. ‘Can we talk over a cup of that nice coffee?’
Margot rolled her eyes and laughed. ‘Okay. Help me out of this and I’ll put my own clothes back on.’
The buttons were the fiddliest, but Bessie soon had them undone and helped Margot step out of the gown.
‘I think I’ll keep it down here,’ Margot said, draping it over her arm. ‘I’ll use one of the spare bedrooms to put it in for now.'
‘I’ll go and put the kettle on,’ Bessie told her. She’d soon learned how to make a pot of coffee, and the packets of tea had been relegated to the back of the cupboard. By the time Margot joined her in the kitchen, Bessie had everything ready.
‘Dunkers? What’s them?’
Margot opened the tin and took out one of the plain biscuits. ‘These,’ she said, dipping the biscuit into the coffee before eating it. ‘It’s lovely, try it.’
‘I’s gonna take your word for it,’ she smiled. ‘I’s liking my coffee as it is.’ She took a sip and almost purred. ‘Now, let’s see. What was Miles like after Mistress Meg’s death? Broken, in a word. He never recovered. She were the only woman he ever loved.’
‘Didn’t he ever find someone he could be happy with?’
‘He never looked. He never went to the society parties to meet anyone. In fact, he became more of a recluse. It were sad. His father kept on at him to get married and give him an heir. Sometimes I’s thinking it were Miles’ way of getting his own back on his Lordship.’
'What happened to the estate after Miles died? Was there another cousin ... someone who would inherit it?'
'Well, that's the thing. He didn't leave it to no one. He had a friend who were a solicitor and said he were to take the money from the estate and invest it. But he said they had to use some to take care of the house until such a day came when a person would come to claim it.
'He gave his friend two letters and said they must be passed on unopened until that time came. One would be for the solicitor, and the other for the claimant.'
Margot thought about that; it did make sense. 'And you know all this because...?'
Bess shrugged. 'I just do.'
Did I really expect a proper answer? ‘What I can’t understand is, Meg is dead and so is Miles. Why didn’t he go and join her? Why is he hanging around down here?’
There was a rather lengthy silence as Margot waited for Bessie’s answer.
‘He’s been waiting for you to come back to him.’
Continued….
Characters
Margot Crawley: A bank teller who has had her life turned upside down by an amorous ghost. She saw a house in the estate agent's window, and was so attracted to it, she ended up buying it even though she hadn’t wanted to move. What made her do such an uncharacteristic thing? She believes it was the house itself.
Bessie: The housekeeper who was there when Margot moved in. What is she? What does she know? Bessie is an enigma and Margot is determined to discover what she knows.
Meg Crawley: A woman from the 1800s who is somehow linked with Margot. But how? Margot discovers that Mistress Meg once lived in her house before her untimely death. Things are becoming very mysterious.
Miles Brandon: Once betrothed to Meg, but after her father committed suicide creating such a scandal because of the debts he left from gambling. Miles is told to call off the wedding before it brought the scandal to his own doorstep.
Lord Brandon: Miles’ Father linked with Meg’s death.
Richard Crawley: Meg’s brother. Fallen out with Meg and his mother. Blames his mother for his father’s gambling.
Margot’s amorous ghost: is like the magnet who has drawn Margot to the house. Bessie is there to spin the web and keep her there. But for what purpose? They are from completely different times.
 Recognized |
#2 February 2022 |
I have just had a load of pumps put on this chapter from JudyE, and I can't thank her enough. That was so very nice of you, my friend. Thank you so very much! xx
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