Caroline Graham - A Ghost in the Machine

“Would other people be aware of a…presence, Doris?” Even mentioning the word made Benny feel all spooky. “Kate and Mallory, for instance?”

Doris hesitated before replying. She had known Mallory all her grown-up life. He had been seven years old when she had first started working for Carey Lawson. A regular visitor to Appleby House and a bright little chap always helping himself to cakes and biscuits the minute her back was turned. Or hiding her bag and outdoor shoes, then finding them just as she was about to explode with frustration. But Doris, having no children of her own, had grown quite fond, for there wasn’t a spark of malice in him. Which was more than you could say of that brazen trollop, his daughter. She had been a spiteful, manipulating child and Doris was glad when she got old enough to be left at home.

She liked Kate, though. Unlike some of Carey’s visitors Mallory’s wife was really thoughtful. You’d never arrive first thing to find a sinkful of dirty dishes with food caked on when the Lawsons were staying. Or unmade beds and the bathroom floor swimming and soaking towels thrown all over…

“Sorry, Ben?” Doris’d drifted off for a second there. That was the strange thing about the past: you always remembered it as being much more interesting than the present yet at the time it was happening it had actually been rather dull.

“They’re coming today, you see…” Benny had been overwhelmed with emotion when Judith, having rung the Lawsons, had returned to say that Kate would be with her as soon as possible the next day. And that Mallory would drive down after school had closed. She had wept tears of gratitude, much to Judith’s embarrassment. “…so I was wondering if I should tell them. About Carey…um…”

“Coming through?”

“Yes.”

“Best not.”

In discouraging Benny Mrs. Crudge was not prompted by any notion of exclusivity. She had no wish to shut the Lawsons out – quite the contrary. Nothing would have made her happier than all four of them going along to the Church of the Near at Hand and partaking of spiritual sustenance. But experience had taught her that such an excursion would never happen. That there would always be a barrier dividing the likes of the Lawsons and the church’s congregation. And Mrs. Crudge, over the years, had come to the reluctant conclusion that the barrier was education.

Or rather overeducation. Doris had left school at fifteen and started work straight away. She had never seen the point of exams and did not regret her inability to pass any. Intelligence, it seemed to Doris, could be quite a handicap for a simple person. Obviously everyone needed to read and write. They needed to understand figures, though that wasn’t as important as it used to be what with calculators and everything. But then a line should be drawn. Going on and on and on led to nothing but trouble. Scientists who made bombs, doctors who chopped all the wrong bits off, judges who let criminals go scot-free, all so-called educated people.

As for education opening the mind…That was not what Mrs. Crudge and fellow strivers after a new order of cosmic being had found. The minds of the sneering cynics – which seemed to include practically everyone you met these days – were closed tighter than sprung traps. Oh, the workers for the high meridian knew what it was to be a persecuted minority all right! And yet these know-alls, these eggheads, were the real losers for they had lost the ability to believe in miracles. They had lost their way.

“I think, Ben – if you’re worried about telling Mallory, say you’re going round mine for tea come Sunday.”

“Oh, I couldn’t do that,” said Benny, deeply embarrassed. “It would be a lie.”

“No, it wouldn’t.” Doris was getting up now, reaching for her outdoor coat, a light wool in spite of the warmth of the day. “That’s exactly what we’ll be doing after the service – having tea together.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

Though sounding subdued and even a little fearful, in fact Benny had already decided she would go. If anything dramatic happened she would be with a friend and surrounded by people so could come to no harm. And if nothing happened she would regard the whole thing as a bit of an adventure and enjoy the slap-up spread.

Benny sighed and wished she felt what Doris would doubtless call “a bit more smart.” She had slept thoroughly, if not very well, waking with nothing worse than a dry mouth, a bit of a headache and a general feeling of stupefaction. Judith had offered her some of Ashley’s sleeping pills, which Benny had refused to take on the grounds that they could be dangerous, being someone else’s prescription.

Judith got really terse then, saying that she couldn’t possibly leave Benny in the state she was and that she, Judith, had a job to do the next day and a sick husband to look after and needed her sleep just as much if not more than Benny did. So Benny had meekly swallowed two pills and was now wishing she hadn’t.

When Doris had left, Benny got slowly to her feet, washed up the coffee cups then made the bed in Kate and Mallory’s room with clean linen and lavender bags underneath the pillows. She had no notion of when Kate would actually arrive but, in case it was before lunch, decided to buy some fresh crusty bread from the Spar shop.

It took almost twenty minutes to cover the quarter-mile walk for Benny had to stop and chat to anything on two legs and pat or stroke anything on four. The store had some really nice York ham on the bone. Benny bought half a pound for sandwiches, some peaches and a quilted paper towel roll decorated with apple blossom. She picked up a Times then, making her way to the till, spotted the jolliest little item imaginable. A Highland terrier carved from a huge cake of soap, coloured and scented lilac. It came with a bone-shaped sponge, also coloured lilac. The bone was encircled by a tiny collar made of real leather holding a disc marked “To:” and “From:,” all ready to write on.

Benny felt she owed Judith an apology for being such a nuisance last night as well as a thank you for all her kind help. She would call in on the way home – they would have finished breakfast by now – and what’s more she would take the terrier as a present!

Judith appeared somewhat taken aback by the soap and sponge. She handed it straight to Ashley saying, “Just look what Benny’s brought us.”

“How lovely.” He smiled, taking the box. “Do stay and have some tea, Ben. It must get a bit lonely over there.”

“If you’re sure…Such a welcome. Benny, beaming at both the Parnells in turn, settled happily by the window. She had just started to tell them of Croydon’s latest adventure – overtaken by greed and confidence he had fallen into the fish pond – when Judith leaped up crying: “My fax! Excuse me…”

“I think being underwater is really frightening,” said Ashley. “I’ve always been afraid of drowning.”

“ I’m afraid of drowning too.” Benny spoke as if it was the most joyful coincidence ever. She was also afraid of being kidnapped, falling through the sky, and being bitten by tarantulas, which she knew turned up on a regular basis in crates of bananas. “Which is why I never eat one. Or sail.”

Ashley offered Benny a croissant. “There’s plenty left. And some black cherry jam.”

“You’ve made a real friend over at Appleby House,” said Benny, taking a croissant and smothering it with butter. “Polly was talking about you for ages the other night. Asking all sorts of questions.”

“Really?”

“She’s such a kind person. So sympathetic.”

“I’ve only met her once but she seemed…charming.” Ashley adjusted the blanket around his legs then, with a sudden impatient movement, threw it off altogether. “I suppose I should return the compliment. Do you know when she’ll be coming down again? Will she be living here when her parents move? And what about boyfriends – she must have lots – is there anyone special?”