Page 33 of Mirrors of the Past

She refused to acknowledge the fact that she might be even more excited at the prospect of Laurie being there.

They alighted the carriage and the door opened as if on its own.

‘Good evening,’ boomed a voice from beneath a white sheet. ‘Welcome to Pencradoc! Mwah ha ha!’

Viola fought a smile back as a small hand emerged and lifted the sheet so the person beneath could get a better view. A boy peered at them. ‘I say — are you the Arthurs?’ he said in a normal voice.

‘We are,’ replied Viola.

‘Yes, indeed we are. Viola and Sam,’ said Sam.

‘Jolly pleased to meet you! My name is Arthur as well! Arthur Teague.’ The boy bowed, his sheet trailing on the floor as he did so. Then he stood up, remembering his role and put on his very deep Halloween voice again. ‘Please go into the paaaaaarlour. But beware of the witches! Oh.’ He turned and pointed at a very old dog wandering around with a little white sheet attached to his collar, like a very small opera-cloak. It had some sort of hood that kept flopping over the dog’s ears until he stopped and shook his head vehemently and moved the thing. ‘That’s Biscuit. He’ll try to eat anything within his reach, so you have been waaaaaarned. Mwah ha ha.’

‘Wunnerful.’ Viola laughed. ‘And is the parlour this way?’

‘Yes.’ Arthur Teague nodded beneath his sheet. ‘We normally call it the morning room, but I think paaaaaarlour sounds more scary, don’t you? Oh, and watch out for the cobweb. Medora made it and I’ve already broken it.’

Privately Viola thought changing the name to “Mourning” Room by adding a “u” would have been fine and dandy. But she nodded back at Arthur, realised he might not be seeing her too clearly through the unevenly cut eye-holes, and agreed verbally that “paaaaaarlour” sounded ideal.

Then she and Sam wandered towards the room he’d indicated and saw a huge, white, crochet spiderweb hanging over the door with a long, trailing piece of wool, which was slowly unravelling. Sam lifted the edge of the web and Viola ducked under and entered what was seemingly a witches’ coven.

Everything had been draped with dark fabric and a huge bucket was in the middle of the floor full of apples bobbing around in water. Goblets and red punch in a decanter labelled Dragon’s Blood were on a serving table pushed against the wall — obviously for the adults — and what Viola assumed was a children’s version, labelled Bat’s Blood, was next to it, with a collection of smaller glasses. Biscuits shaped like bats and witches’ hats lay on plates, and everywhere she looked, there seemed to be a small person dressed as a creature of the night or a wolf or a bat or a black cat shrieking and running around. One small black cat, her tiny black ears half-hidden in her mass of dark curls, clutched a biscuit in each hand. A black taffeta skirt and a long velvet tail completed the outfit, and Viola laughed to realise it was, of course, Marigold.

‘Aunt Viola!’ Marigold charged over to her. ‘Hello! I’m a cat!’

‘I can see that,’ said Viola. She managed a quick hug before the cat wriggled out of her grasp and started prancing around. ‘Mama is the witch I belong to. Look!’ She pointed a sticky finger towards the back of the room where three witches were indeed sitting together — Pearl, Elsie and Holly, all dressed in black. Holly was dandling her baby on her costumed knee. Elsie’s frock was the most embellished, obviously, embroidered with moons and stars. She was also wearing a pointed hat. A silver rope hung loosely around her waist and the lace sleeves were long and full. She looked stunning.

‘Off you go, then,’ said Sam with a laugh. ‘I’m going to investigate the Dragon’s Blood, and talk to Ernie and Louis and Noel. Oh, delightful. Fabian is here as well. Just spotted him.’

Sam headed over to the men — there was another younger man with them as well, Elsie’s brother Clem, who it seemed had come back from university for the party. He looked awkward, as if he’d much rather be apple-ducking with Arthur — who had abandoned door duty and joined the party now they were all there — and another young boy dressed as a warlock. The warlock was Elsie’s other brother, Enyon. Two other boys she didn’t recognise were also with the apple-ducking group, but she suspected from the copper hints in their hair that they were related to the same family. Someone had also hung apples from pieces of string on the ceiling, the idea being that people could try to bite those as well.

And sure enough, as Sam approached the men, Clem peeled away and joined his brothers. Viola looked around. There was one man missing. Noticeable by his absence in fact: Laurie.

Her heart sank into her boots. Perhaps he wasn’t coming after all. Arthur had left his post at the door. Even Biscuit was lying on the floor by a group of six girls — two dark and four fair-haired. Elsie’s sisters and cousins likely.

It just didn’t look as if he was coming.

Dammit.

She hovered for a moment or two, checking and double-checking the guests. And, no, no siree, no sign of Laurie at all.

Well, she couldn’t just hover there, could she?

So she pasted a smile on her face and headed over to her sister and her friends. She couldn’t let them know how she felt.

To be fair, even she didn’t really know!

But the first thing that she said when she approached was, ‘Is everyone here who’s coming now?’

Elsie, who was half lying and half sitting in a large comfy chair, looking even paler than usual, perked up at that. ‘Good evening, Viola. Delightful to see you. Mama and Teague are in London, and at the theatre with Aunt Alys, Uncle Jago, Lily and Edwin, so they won’t be here. And Laurie . . .’ She looked around vaguely. ‘No Laurie. Not here. Oh dear.’ She slumped back in the chair, a plate of biscuits and a goblet of Dragon’s Blood, both seemingly untouched, close to her. ‘He and Evie must be delayed. Oh, well. It’s only four thirty. Train must be late. Those boys over there — Lily and Edwin’s sons, Albert and Edward. Very sweet.’

‘Oh dear, indeed,’ said Viola wryly, hung up on the fact Laurie was definitely not there. She couldn’t stop herself. And also . . . she wanted to shout, “Who’s Evie?” But fortunately she didn’t, and fortunately Elsie seemed as if her mind was elsewhere, or as if she was recovering from rather too much champagne, so she didn’t pick up on the original comment. Thankfully!

And actually, would it be worse if Laurie came with another woman or simply didn’t come at all? Now there was a dilemma.

Elsie seemed to make a great effort, leaned over and patted Viola’s hand. ‘But we are here. Jolly good. And a stunning costume, darling. Stunning. Make sure you have your photograph taken. Look — we’ve got it all set up over there.’ She nodded to a corner of the room draped with black velvet, looking for all the world like a photographer’s studio. ‘Isolde and Medora painted most of the background, I added the spooks and demons and some finishing touches, and I’ve designated Clem as the photographer. Letting him use my camera and tripod, though.’ She frowned. ‘Think I made the right decision. Think I trust him. But we really need to record this party and all the costumes. We’ve all had our turns. You simply must do it.’

‘Your costume is stunning too.’ Viola looked at the three friends and couldn’t help but smile, even if Laurie was apt to arrive with a lover at any time soon. ‘In fact, you all look wunnerful.’

‘Don’t we just.’ Pearl stood up and kissed her sister. ‘I am just certain that we look absolutely Macbeth in our photograph. And the little ones are having a wunnerful time already!’

Pearl’s twins, although a little older than Marigold, were running in her wake, totally in thrall to the girl, and Pearl’s other two smaller children were staggering around and falling down in that way small children do when they are unsteady on their feet but desperately want to play with the others.

‘Just wait until that apple-bobbing starts.’ Holly handed over her tiny baby, Joe, to Elsie, and also got to her feet. She kissed Viola too. ‘It will be chaos. Marigold suggested she could hold Joe over the bucket to help him, but we suggested it wouldn’t be appropriate, seeing as he has no teeth. So she’s taking his turn instead.’

‘That seems sensible.’ Viola took a seat nearby. ‘I have to ask, are you the three witches from Macbeth — or did you just not consult before you came out?’

Pearl laughed. ‘Number one, sweetie — we have a reputation to uphold, so we may as well uphold it. Although . . .’ She frowned and leaned in closer. ‘Elsie isn’t her usual self,’ she murmured in a low voice. ‘Don’t know if she’s feeling rather punk or just has a case of the blue devils.’

Viola studied Elsie and she definitely didn’t look herself — perhaps she was feeling ill or a bit miserable. She knew fizz could do that to a person. The dark circles beneath her eyes and her pale cheeks could suggest that.

‘I’m sure if she felt too bad, she wouldn’t have had the party,’ Viola whispered back to Pearl. ‘But look — the boys are doing very well with those apples!’