The Haunting of Maddy Clare Read Online Free PDF Page B

faded, I supposed I could see his point. Ordering my meal for me had been a display, meant for everyone but him and me. Still, I had been living by myself for some time and I wasn’t used to having a man do anything for me. “I understand—but if you’re going to make it a habit, I’ll have to protest.”
    He smiled at me, easy again. “Clever girl. Now, let’s go over our plans for tomorrow.”
    We spent the next hour or so talking of what would happen the next day. My supper arrived, and though it was the largest portion of food I had ever seen, I found I was hungry enough to make respectable work of it, causing Mr. Gellis to tease me about the effects of “fresh country air.” He even persuaded me to have a small glass of beer. Our plans were relatively simple: Mr. Gellis had already sent a message to Falmouth House, and received a reply that we were expected tomorrow morning. We would interview Mrs. Clare and the old housekeeper about their deceased servant, Maddy. And then, if all went well, I would take the camera and recording equipment, go to the haunted barn, and see if Maddy would show herself.
    The prospect was so strange, so unlike any job I had ever thought to have, that I could hardly fathom it. The excitement I had felt on leaving my flat possessed me again, mixed with not a little fear. At some moments it seemed as if ghost viewing would be like a scary parlor game, creating a chill but still merely amusing. At other times I remembered that I would be in the presence, supposedly, of someone from beyond the grave.
    And in the back of my mind, worry scrabbled. What if I saw nothing? What if there was nothing to see? I’d be sent home, and this all would be over. Could I really be hoping to see a ghost?
    Mr. Gellis and I made a continued stir by sitting so long at our table. I should be embarrassed; everyone, by now, must assume we were a couple. And yet I could not feel as I was supposed to. I had to admit a shallow trickle of selfish pride, that anyone would think a man as handsome and obviously blessed as Mr. Gellis would choose me for a partner. So what if he had found me at random through a temporary agency? So what if he thought of me as nothing but a simple employee? No one in the room knew that, at least not yet. And besides, did stranger things not happen every day? Was it such a complete impossibility, given how closely we were to work together? I was unattached, and Mr. Gellis wore no ring, and mentioned no wife. But this was getting ahead of myself. I made myself put such thoughts away.
    But later, as I climbed the steps to my room, exhausted, I admit that for the first time in years—perhaps since my parents had died—I abandoned good sense and let silly, girlish fantasies take full rein in my mind. He seemed to like me, and we would be alone together very much, after all. When I look back on it, it is amazing that such silly, frivolous ideas were foremost in my thoughts. I wasn’t a normal girl, but I was a girl, after all; and I would spin pretty romantic stories, for the last time, unaware of the hell that was about to descend upon me.

Chapter Four

    T he next morning dawned dreary and wet; the sun disappeared. From the window of my room I saw a thin mist clinging to the ground, damp and silent. It seemed appropriate weather for ghost hunting.
    I dressed quickly—despite the wet weather, the room in this tiny inn was cozy, and my stockings had already dried—and went downstairs to the taproom. I did not see Mr. Gellis. The innkeeper, Mr. Ahearn, approached me with a cup of tea.
    “Morning.” He nodded curtly. “Your fellow’s already been. He’s out front.”
    “Thank you.” I would have preferred coffee, but I did not want to argue. I drank the tea as quickly as I could, and found my way to the front vestibule, where I took a moment to take my coat from over my arm and slide it on. I also put on my favorite dark brown felt hat.
    I tugged the hat down over my ears and paused.