My Mother's Daughter

Chapter 18

Although she hated the wet days, that morning Elizabeth appreciated the comfort it provided, for it soothed her disturbed soul. Luckily, there were no signs of her stepdaughter which added to the peaceful ambience. She entered the parlour, which smelled of freshly picked flowers and potpourri.

A gramophone lay dust-free on a mahogany shelf, and she sauntered over to it. One of the shelves gracing the wall was stacked neatly with several of her records. She chose her favourite opera, Porgy and Bess, and put it on to play. As the high pitched notes spun in the room she breathed contently, then left to find one of the servants to inform them of what she would like to have for breakfast. She could use the bell as was customary to summon them, but she did not feel like sitting just yet.

Elizabeth closed the door, and walked in the direction of the kitchen. She had only taken a few steps, when she paused and frowned. The music had stopped. She walked back to the room and to her annoyance the gramophone was off. Looking around suspiciously, she put it on and again left the room. The music stopped playing. Quickly, she spun around and opened the door wide.

Slowly yet cautiously, she peered about the room. Without bothering to turn on the gramophone, she stepped backwards, retracing her steps and closed the door. Gingerly, she placed one foot in front of the other, ears cocked like a German shepherd for any movements of the culprit. She took two steps. Nothing happened. Four steps. The room remained quiet. Another four, and only the rain could be heard on the rooftop.

Elizabeth exhaled, as she freed the air held hostage in her lungs, and continued to the kitchen. She jumped involuntarily when the shrill, high musical voice sounded from the gramophone.

She ran back to the parlour and pulled on the doorknob. To her surprise it did not budge, for it was locked. She growled her frustration and screamed the only name she knew could be causing her such agony.

"Rebecca!" Elizabeth banged her palm on the door and pulled on it. "Open this door right now, you unmannerly imp! Rebecca, do you hear me? Open this door! Rebecca!" The front door opened and in stepped the very person whose name she screamed. Rebecca secured the umbrella and gave it to the patient butler, who frowned at the water that dripped from both the girl and the man-made portable shelter. Upon seeing her stepmother, both stared at each other puzzled.

"Elizabeth, were you calling for me? Or are you finally losing your mind?" Elizabeth stared at her, wide eyed and confused. If the little imp had just come in the front door... then who was in the parlour, she asked herself. Rebecca waited for an answer, clumsily dusting raindrops from her hair to the dismay of one of the maids. She had still gotten wet even though she had used an umbrella. At least she was not soaked to the skin and for that she was thankful, since she hated being sick.

Elizabeth's unblinking gaze was unnerving, and Rebecca struggled to remain placid. Anger and malice returned to its rightful place in her eyes. Instincts stated that the brat was the one who locked the parlour doors, and she had always trusted her instincts.

"Do you think I'm stupid Rebecca? I know you used the outer parlour doors to conduct your mischief, you disgusting creature!"

"Oh monstrous beast, do you think that I'll go through all that trouble, and especially through this weather just to annoy you?"
Elizabeth swallowed her reply when Edward's voice was heard down the hall.

"What seems to be the problem now ladies?" Elizabeth turned to her husband, pouting.

"Thank goodness you're here darling. This... girl is making a mockery of me."

"Rebecca, is this true?"

"For the love of England, father, I just came inside from outdoors. And as soon as I step into the house, I hear this woman screaming my name to open the parlour door. She claims I locked it!"

"And what were you doing outside?" Her father asked.

"Well, it has been raining since yesterday, and a few days ago I helped one of the gardeners sow some seeds in the kitchen garden, so I just went to make sure they haven't drowned."

"Isn't that a job for the gardeners?" Elizabeth questioned, her voice full of malice.

"Isn't it also your job to ensure you don't lock the door behind yourself, so you don't end up looking like a fool?!"

"You rodent, how dare you speak to me like that! Do you hear how she speaks to me Edward? She has no respect!"

"You know you can always move out if you don't like my manner of speech. Besides father, if I really was in that room, then there would be wet footprints on the floor."

"That's true. Let me go get the keys." He went to find one of the servants. Elizabeth folded her arms and watched his retreat.

"What's the matter Elizabeth? Are you mad he didn't jump to your defence, while we snapped at each other? Or are you mad he kept silent? Maybe he's getting tired of your charades." Rebecca laughed softly.

"Or maybe he's tired of having a snot for a daughter." Her stepmother reprimanded.

"Or a pig for a wife." Rebecca retorted. Once again Elizabeth was forced to contain her response, as Edward had arrived, keys jingling in his hand.

"Well, let's see what mystery lies behind these doors, shall we ladies." He turned the knob slowly after extracting the key from the keyhole. In he stepped, followed by his wife, then daughter. He stopped the music which still blared. The room became eerily silent, except for the light drizzle that was heard outside.

Husband and father walked around the room looking at the ground. At times he even stopped and felt the floor with his hands. He seemed like an expert detective solving a difficult case. Rebecca held her breath when he pulled on the other doors, they were locked. He checked the windows, they were sealed. After a while he walked back to them.

"There's nothing here that shows Rebecca has been in this room in the last couple of minutes, Elizabeth. No sign of false entry."

"I knew it was her, Edward. I don't know how she did it, but it was all her doing. I certainly cannot accept any other explanation." She stated stubbornly, her lips pinched into a tight line.

"Why don't you get some more rest sweetheart? You deserve it." Edward coaxed.

"What? You think I'm making this all up?"

"You do look a bit restless Elizabeth. Maybe you should go and lie down."

"Don't tell me what to do girl. I'll lie down when I want to, and right now I don't want to."

"Suit yourself then sweetheart, but I'm afraid I have to leave. I'm currently helping Mr. Howard with something, so I'll see you later." He kissed her on the cheek and rumpled his daughter's hair on the way out.

When he was out of earshot, Rebecca swivelled to her stepmother, whose back was towards her.

"Do you believe in ghosts, Elizabeth? I think that's what we're, I mean you, are dealing with. Maybe you should try to make contact with whoever is in here. Hold a séance. Don't worry yourself though, because I think it's just a ghost from your past coming to haunt you. Maybe it's my mother, or better yet, maybe it's Jesse." Rebecca laughed. Goosebumps and chills cascaded through Elizabeth's body.

"Get out." She grated through clenched teeth as she pivoted in the direction of her stepdaughter, her eyes dark and evil. "Get out of here and away from me you imp, before I damage you beyond repair!"

Rebecca backed away, not from fear but because she had nothing else to say.

"No problem woman. Your wish is always my every command." She bowed from the waist and disappeared down the hall, making ghostly and spooky sounds. Elizabeth scrambled to close the parlour door, to shut out the sounds of her stepdaughter. She breathed easily when she heard the girl no more. A light wind blew, and the hair along her arms and neck rose.

She could not shake the feeling that the room indeed might be inhabited by spirits. She shook her head in disbelief. It was nonsense to believe in the supernatural, yet she still hurried from the room. It was better to be safe than sorry.