The Ghost of Kathleen Murphy Page 4

  “Whatever you think best, April. Let’s get away from here and go out to lunch tomorrow, maybe go into the village?”

  “Yes, that will be best. I will say I need to go in for some archives supplies, which is true, and you offered to take me.”

  “But April, the child…”

  “Don’t worry about her tonight, Cassie, she is gone. You will understand it all later when I tell you.”

  Cassie wasn’t yet convinced she was awake and made her way back to her room as if in a fog. This was her final day to get ready for her class. The class participants arrived tomorrow evening, and she needed to be at the welcome dinner at 6:00 p.m. Classes started at 9:00 a.m. the following morning. All this was running through her head as she tried to push out the image of the crying girl and replace it with thoughts of hard reality. This was a trick of the mind she used when she was a child to escape her world when her mother’s mental illness turned her life upside down. She would just step into a world she constructed in her head while insanity raged around her. Inside her head she was screaming, no, no, no!

  After breakfast, April snuck outside with Shamus, and Cassie went out to pick a few flowers and get a bit of fresh air to clear her head. The rain still lingered on the grass and the flowers, and the air was soft and clean. Cassie forced herself back inside to work, and somewhere around the second cup of tea she convinced herself the mysterious crying child was a dream. She put it out of her mind and completed her class plans with an hour to spare before she and April were scheduled to leave. Cassie changed into a more flatteringly outfit after deciding the yoga pants was not a good look for wearing in public. She fussed more than usual with her hair and put on a little makeup. After all, she might just accidently run into Jacob.

  Cassie tried to get Wi-Fi service but had no luck, and decided to go down to the archive rooms to log on and check her Email. As she walked down the stairs from the third floor to the second she felt an icy chill wash over her. She stopped on the second floor and looked around for any opened windows but saw none. She started down the hall to the archive rooms when she heard it. It was a whimper at first, and then it got a little louder, turning into a wailing sound that clutched at her heart. “My God who is that?” she asked, aloud.

  Cassie thought it was one of the employees or workers hurt or crying in one of the rooms, but remembered April telling her they lived in the new renovated part. There was not much life in the old castle part where she was. She walked by each locked door and stopped to listen, hoping to find the source of the crying. Frustrated, and now a little afraid, she started down the hall toward the stairs. As her hand touched the railing the wailing turned into a scream. It seemed to be coming from everywhere. Cassie felt herself being rocked backward like a physical push. For a long minute, she could hardly breathe. At last there was quiet. She willed her legs to move and ran to find April.

  “April, my God, did you hear that scream?” April was just coming in the door downstairs with Shamus.

  “What…who was screaming?”

  “Someone was crying and screaming on the second floor. We need to go tell someone so they can check it out. I can’t get into any of the rooms and I couldn’t tell where it was coming from.” Cassie pointed upward.

  April’s eyes were huge and Shamus backed up and away from Cassie.

  “Don’t go tell them, Cassie. They won’t believe you.”

  “For heaven sakes tell me what is going on here?”

  “I will tell you, but we can’t go to them with this. Come on, let’s put Shamus in my room and go on into the village where we can talk.”

  Cassie paced at the door while April secured Shamus; and then, neither of them saying a word, walked through to the other side of the building to check out a car. For a good five minutes in the car neither of them said anything. April sat back and took a deep breath and exhaled so loud it made Cassie jump. The Haven faded into the distance. Cassie’s hands shook a little as she glanced at April, who was more pale than normal. They turned off the main road to get to the narrow two-lane road leading into the village. Cassie was forced to slow the car and concentrate on her driving as they got into the village and on the narrow roads.

  Once at the restaurant, they both relaxed a bit, but Cassie was anxious to hear what April wanted to tell her. After they placed the order, April looked around the restaurant, and shifted in her seat. Now she leaned in close to Cassie. “I’m going to tell you this story and you have to promise me you won’t say where you heard it. You have to promise me you will listen to the entire story before asking questions.”

  Cassie put her hand on April’s. “Of course I will, I promise.”

  April took a long sip of water. “This is the story as I know it.”

  Chapter 3

  Jacob made it a point to get to his bookstore early and do all of his paperwork and ordering duties before they opened. He enjoyed being out in the store with his customers as much as possible. In his way of thinking, the paperwork was just a necessary evil to get through. He tried to keep Cassie Malone out of his head as much as possible, but her auburn hair and those sometimes blue, sometimes green eyes, made it difficult. Her face seemed to appear before him at the most inappropriate times. There was no point in falling for an American who was here for a short time he told himself, almost every hour.

  “Hello boss, you’re here early.” Tommy came through the back door juggling his motorcycle helmet, keys, and a bag from the bakery.

  “Morning, Tom. I wanted to get all of my paperwork done so I could have a lot of time left to harass my employees today.”

  Tommy laughed. “You know you are the luckiest man around, and that’s the truth. You have the best staff supervisor, named Tommy, who also happens to be the most handsome bloke in the place by far. You are blessed with a hard working crew who puts up with you without grumbling as icing on your cake. Yes, you are a lucky man.”

  Jacob threw him an orange. “Here eat something healthy oh big-headed one.”

  “Come on now, I am a vision of health, my big head and all.”

  “Yeah a vision now maybe, but if you don’t eat better you will pay for it when you’re older.”

  “You sound like my daddy.”

  “We old guys know things. I need to ask your young-guy-self something. I’m taking a friend out Saturday night for dinner in Dublin and maybe to one of the clubs after. Do you have any suggestions, maybe places to hear some good music that doesn’t drown out all possibilities of conversation?”

  “What’s this now, Jacob Sullivan is back in the dating world?”

  “Don’t make a grand thing of it Tommy, just help me out. This is the first real date in years and I am out of practice.”

  “All right boss, let me give it a little thought and check around with a mate or two. I won’t let you down. But in return you must tell me about this woman who has made the iceman Jacob return to polite society.”

  “She is an American staying at The Haven. She’s a writer.”

  “And…go on, is she gorgeous and all?”

  “She is that, and more; she is interesting.” Jacob ran his fingers through his hair.

  “I’ll say she must be grand because I haven’t seen you this way in a long time. Not since, well, not in a long time.”

  “It’s okay to talk about her now; Lydia has been dead almost four years.”

  “I’m glad you can talk about it now then too, Jacob. I hope you don’t think I am being too personal, but I’m glad you are getting on with your life, even if it is with a visiting American beauty.” He bit into a huge banana muffin topped with chocolate chips which immediately fell down the front of his shirt.

  “I know all of you were worried about me. I’m coming out of the fog a little. As for the American, yes, she is beautiful, but she is also funny, kind, and seems so level-headed. Best of all she seems calm, logical, and practical in the way Americans are. They are more pragmatic than the Irish.”

  “Who wants to be pragmat
ic, man, when one can live in the land of fairies and such?” Tommy patted Jacob on the back and walked away.

  Jacob laughed and shook his head. “Fairies and such; amusing, Tommy. Will you never grow up?” He hit the brew button on the coffee machine and found himself humming as he waited for the coffee to drip into his cup. He knew his good mood reflected his time with Cassie, but more than that, he felt ready for new things in his life. He was ready to take some risks. He picked up his coffee mug and walked out into the store to start his day. For the first time in years he felt the clouds part and the sun break through. He felt hopeful; and he realized with some surprise, he was happy, and it started with Cassie Malone.

  He wondered how it was possible he could become a wee bit obsessed with a woman he just met. Yet, he seemed to be. When he first looked into her eyes it was like coming home. He felt like a walking cliché because it was as if he had known her forever. The cloud on the horizon of course, was her temporary status, and it loomed large in his mind.

  “Jacob, did you say something?” Kelly, his other store manager was standing in front him.

  “No, no, sorry, just mumbling to myself, I guess.” Jacob laughed and walked away.

  Jacob realized it was risky and a little irrational to be fixated on Cassie Malone when she would be gone in a few months, but it was too late. Somehow, he must regain a little control of his heart and head. He didn’t think he’d survive more drama right now. Slow and easy Jacob, slow and easy.

  He forced himself to stay busy and engaged the rest of the day. There was a poker game that night, and it might occupy his mind for a while. Jacob hoped his aunt had not cornered Cassie at the retreat center and told her who knows what kind of stories. He knew his aunt may tell her about Lydia, but what she’d say about her death, he had no idea. He planned to tell Cassie anyway, and there was nothing to do about his aunt.

  When he got home he fixed a sandwich and opened a beer, and with time to kill before the poker game, decided to clean out a storage closet to make room for some gardening tools. He pulled a box from the top shelf of the closet. It was one he avoided for years, and marked, Lydia’s stuff. He took a deep breath and opened the lid. Her picture albums, sketches, and pressed flowers along with random pictures torn out of magazines, were all mixed in together in a jumble. He set the albums to the side and threw the rest into a trash bag. The next layer in the box was tidier. He found several journals, a Bible, and some books of poetry. He set those aside with the album for later. The rest were old birthday and Christmas cards and recipes. They went into the trash bag.

  Jacob took the albums, books, and journals into the kitchen to go through later, but for now he didn’t want to deal with them. He wanted to hang onto his happy and hopeful mood and not spoil it with bad memories from the past. He put the lid back on the box and shoved it in the top of the storage closet. Out of sight and out of mind at least for a day or two.

  Jacob got into the shower and wished for nothing more than to have Cassie Malone in there with him. He could see her creamy white skin, perfect neck, those lips moist, and parted. Get a grip, Jacob. He hurried the shower, dressed, and left for his poker game before he could lapse into another Cassie daydream. What is the matter with me? His dad used to tell the story of the Irish love fairy. She will find you in the night and bite you, and you will fall in love with the next woman you see. You will forever be her slave, and do her bidding, and love her and no other for the rest of your life. He hadn’t thought about that old child’s tale in many years.

  Jacob thought of his father and mother and their happy marriage. He smiled because maybe it was all true after all. Maybe he was bitten, and maybe it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Then reality set in. He worried again about allowing himself to get too interested in a woman who was around for a limited time, and a woman who may even have a relationship back in America. Jacob reminded himself he didn’t know her well. He thought of all the reasons to keep away from her, and made a vow to slow down and be more careful. Maybe he still wasn’t ready for another romance after all. Maybe dating a few women from his own village was smart. Then he realized he was doing it again—over thinking it. But it wouldn’t hurt to be careful, though he was so tired of being careful about everything. The thoughts went around and around in his head until he acknowledged what was bothering him deep down. A sense of being unsettled, an unease shadowed him, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it.

  When Jacob married Lydia, he thought it was forever, and he learned all too soon nothing is forever, and any plans we make are just that, plans, nothing is guaranteed. Lydia’s illness, almost unbearable, left him feeling helpless, and was the hardest thing to endure. He saw her suffer and there was nothing he could do to help. He was at the mercy of something he didn’t understand. She was at the mercy of something she could not control.

  Jacob’s pain turned to sorrow, and after time, it turned again, and settled on his shoulders and in his heart and soul—it was guilt. He buried the hurt down deep and covered it over with a life of work and meaningless activities, anything to avoid being alone with his thoughts. In the end he faced the truth, but even now he wasn’t sure how he was able to survive it. The idea of reading Lydia’s words in her journals was terrifying. Yet somehow, he was feeling a strong urge to do just that.

  Chapter 4

  Some miles away from Jacob, Cassie was thinking of anything but romance. April began to tell her a horrible story as they ate their lunch in an outdoor cafe. She stopped talking while the waiter refilled their glasses.

  Cassie sat back in her chair. “All right now, go on, April.”

  “Where was I…oh yes, well the monastery was a school for a while and took in children from all around, rich and poor alike. It was a good school they say. Then Father Dunn came to live there. He was brought in to oversee the school, and they gave him rooms in the old section where the school was then, separate from the Sisters.”

  “Why send a priest in?”

  “That’s just the way things were then. The men ruled the Church.”

  “Yes, of course, okay, go on.”

  “As time went on and the school got bigger, Father Dunn brought in someone to help him, a graduate student from London, a young man named Edwin Boxwood. Before too long, rumors started about Edwin bothering some of the girls, you know, touching them where he shouldn’t, that sort of thing. One of the older girls went to the prioress, but she didn’t believe her. Or if she did, nothing was done about it. The others were too afraid to tell the priest, and maybe the prioress did tell him and he didn’t believe the girl. No one seemed to know for sure. Edwin picked a favorite girl every few months, so the story goes. He brought the girls gifts and was always trying to get them alone.”

  “Good grief, did he ever actually molest any of the girls, or is there any way to know?”

  “I don’t know for sure. You can imagine what a hold a priest’s trusted assistant could have over a young country girl. He was in a position of power, very good-looking and charming too, it was said. I’m sure the girls were confused. They were vulnerable, and they all must have been terrified once they saw what he really wanted. Anyway, the day came when these two particular girls, sisters who were sent there together, Maeve and Kathleen Murphy, showed up, and that is when it happened. Maeve was the older one, about eleven or twelve, and her little sister, Kathleen, called Katie, was nine. They lost their father to the influenza outbreak, and their mother sent them to the Sisters because she couldn’t feed all six children, much less try to educate them. She wanted the girls to have a better life and get an education, and putting them in the monastery was one way to do it then.”

  Cassie took out her notebook and started writing. “I can understand, I guess. Go on, April, I’m just making some notes as you talk. It’s given me a great story idea.”

  “I’ll try to recall what I was told, the best I can. It seems Edwin took a particular fancy to Maeve, or so the story goes. She was said to be a real beauty. But she
was a strong-willed girl and wouldn’t give in to him until he told her that if she didn’t, her sister, Kathleen, was next. Well, he had her then, but Maeve was not stupid. He tried everything to get her alone, to get her into the woods and away from the monastery, but she resisted him. Maeve gave Kathleen strict instructions to never be alone with Edwin or the priest. Then one day Edwin stopped bothering Maeve and she thought they were free of him at last. Then she saw him looking at Kathleen in that same way he once looked at her. But Maeve was a smart one and was getting desperate. She wrote down everything in her journal. They think she must have followed him to the library one night and threatened him. She warned him to leave the girls alone or she had a letter ready to send to the Bishop, to the Pope in Rome, and a copy to the newspaper in Dublin. He went into a rage and ended up strangling her and buried her there, on what was then the monastery grounds. So the story goes, Cassie. No one knows for sure how much is true.”

  “What a nightmare for those girls, April. This kind of thing makes me nuts. It makes me furious because they were left at his mercy. They were left alone with this horror, this pervert, these two little girls, and all those girls, and with no one to help them or believe them.” Cassie closed her eyes as she felt the pain again, the pain of being young, alone, and in a hopeless situation.

  April sat back in her chair. “I know, it’s all so awful; those poor girls. But remember, it may not all be true. He may not have abused them. He may have had nothing to do with Maeve’s disappearance. You can’t tell anyone you heard this from me. It may well be a made-up story. Also, this is Ireland, Cassie, and you don’t want to go against the Church here, even now.”

  “Well, maybe. So what happened then and where does Kathleen and her—her ghost come in?”

  “They say the story goes that Edwin went insane afterward. He threw himself off the roof of the monastery screaming about a ghost child who was after him. Little Kathleen died of pneumonia the next year. Ever since then, Kathleen has haunted the castle looking for her sister Maeve who never came back to her room that final night. Maeve’s body was never found. To this day no one knows what happened to her and how much of the story is true or made up, or maybe added to over the years.”