A Ghost Among Us

Chapter 8

By October, the house in Hampstead looked as if it had been home to the three Americans for two years, not two months. When she saw the size of the house, Dierdre started making telephone calls to cleaning services until she found Dorinda, an East Indian girl who stated that the house was haunted as soon as she stepped over the front threshhold. This didn't bother her - Dorinda was nineteen years old, a student at The London Technical Institute, and attracted by the salary Dierdre was offering. It was approximately double what most people in London paid their cleaning women or men - Dierdre was horrified by the amount of money people were expected to live on in such an expensive city, and decided she could at least compensate in this small way. It didn't occur to her at the time that there might be more she could do.

The large reception room, originally one of the parlors of the manor house before it was divided into six townhouses, had been painted pale rose and hung with slightly darker silk drapes. The darkness of the house was alleviated by this color scheme - and the furnishings, which were mostly pale grey and white with touches of rose in various shades. A white leather couch and loveseats, which should have looked incongruous in an old mansion, were instead stunning and original, and the glass and marble coffee and side tables were the perfect accompaniment.

When Charlotte surveyed it the day she hung her photographs, she was glad she had waited for the arrival of Natalie and Deirdre - if Dierdre knew anything, it was how to furnish a house. One wall of the room was French windows, leading out into a brick patio and beyond that, a garden shared by the six townhouses that had comprised the original mansion. On one of the remaining walls were hanging three enormous oil paintings of horses - horses out of a fantasy.

The last wall was dominated by a large white marble fireplace, flanked by free form, black lacquered bookshelves from ceiling to floor. The bookshelves contained, in addition to a large number of books, several shelves of videos. One entire shelf held a series of black video cases labelled "Channel 20", and a series of dates.

One rainy evening in October (only in London could it be so cold when it rained), Dierdre and Charlotte were seated on the couch together, waiting to be served dessert. It was Natalie's night to cook (they each took turns about once a week; the rest of the time they ate out), and it was the first dinner all three of them had been there on the same night. Joining them for the first time also was Paul Harkness. Although Didi and Nat had met Paul on numerous occasions before, this was his first 'dinner' visit - they hadn't invited anyone over the first month after they moved into the house. Now he sat on the carpet, leaning back against the base of the couch. Charlotte's legs, draped over his shoulders, looked remarkably dainty against his chest.

At 33, Paul Harkness was incredibly handsome in an almost unreal way, and held the promise of growing old gracefully. Because his looks were unimportant to him, they became even more attractive to others, and he had his share of willing women. Until he met Charlotte at a benefit for the homeless, however, he had drifted from one semi-love affair to another, only touching down long enough to realize he and his latest love were communicating on different channels. Paul and Charlotte were a strange couple, and any of their friends would have said that they were definitely on different channels. But they liked the way they were to

As Natalie came in from the kitchen pushing a black enamelled drink trolley, Paul looked around the room. "This is really nice," he commented with a slight accent. "Looks as if you ladies are finally getting settled in."

Didi laughed. "You mean there aren't clothes and papers all over the living room."

"That's a good indication, I guess."

"Not necessarily," she retorted. "We could've moved all the stuff into the bedrooms. We didn't, but that's thanks to Dorinda, not us."

Paul frowned. "Couldn't you have found an English cleaning woman?"

"We tried," Charlotte said, "but there don't seem to be any. Strange, since we're willing to pay a lot more than most of them make working in shops or offices. Besides, we like Dorinda. What's wrong with her?"

"Nothing, she seems like a nice, intelligent girl. But England's in trouble from all the immigrants pouring in - the English won't be able to get jobs, soon."

"I wonder if there's an English person wandering around jobless, because you're working as a research biologist for the University of London. Go back to Norway, you foul interloper!"

Paul stared at Natalie for a moment as she halted her trolley, not certain how to take this exaggerated comment. When all three women began to laugh, he did so, also. "Oh, all right! I get the point. Since there aren't any English people in this room, I guess it's a moot point."

Natalie had a pitcher on her trolley, containing a whitish-beige drink that she poured into wine glasses with different colored pastel stems. She handed a pink glass to Dierdre, a green one to Charlotte and an aqua one to Paul. He sipped his tentatively while Natalie took the last glass, a yellow one, and sat cross-legged on the floor next to Dierdre.They were flowing and prancing, one with a body of silver and a mane of pink and black; one in blues, silver and black; the last in purples, pinks and gold. All three were signed in the lower right hand corner in a flourishing script - the name "Natalie". The second remaining wall was intersected by a doorway, but the remainder was covered with an assemblage of large black and white photographs of people on the streets of London, or more specifically, of people living on the streets (and in some cases below) of London. They were humorous, pathetic, sad and innovative, and captured a spirit that was made all the more striking and poignant by the beauty of the surroundings and the fact that the subjects were largely ignored by the people shown passing them by.gether, so they stayed. Paul was icy looking, in a way - Dierdre and Natalie wondered if most Norwegians appeared as if they had just come in from cross country skiing and some of the snow had penetrated their system. His eyes were a frosty blue, and his face was chiselled, strong, and hard. He had longish, wavy dark-brown hair that didn't look Scandinavian but somehow added to the aura of iciness surrounding him. Dierdre understood his appeal - women wanted to thaw him out. Only Charlotte seemed able to do so.

"So," Natalie said, "What'cha think?"gain weight before my premiere show."

"Delicious," Paul replied, a moustache of foam on his upper lip. "What did you call it?"

"A Pina Colada. I can't believe you've never had one."

In a heavy, phony accent, Paul said, "Ve be very backvard in Norvay, yah."

Charlotte put her drink on the coffee table and pretended to strangle him. He started to choke and laugh, and Charlotte said, "Do they have a clue, down at the university, that their most brilliant biologist has a screw loose?"

Paul seemed to consider this as he drank some more of Charlotte's drink. "I don't think they've even realized I'm the most brilliant."

"Obviously a case of intellectual blindness," Dierdre put in. "Or color blindness." Paul turned to stare at her uncomprehendingly. "You just drank Chari's drink."

They all laughed, and Paul handed Charlotte her drink. "When do you start your new show, Didi?" he asked as he now drank his own.

"Wish I knew. They were so antsy to get me over here, and now they can't settle on a premiere date."

"I guess a new TV show is like a new anything . . .it never happens as planned."

"I'm just happy they agreed to pay me from the day I arrived."

Paul was looking around at the room. "I wonder what the history of this house is. Do you know, Chari?"

She shook her head, finishing her drink. "Not really. But the owner told me the land has been in his family for about a hundred and fifty years."

Natalie frowned. "This house couldn't be anywhere near that old."

"Oh, no," Paul added. "The architecture is definitely this century."

Didi dismissed it cavalierly. "Then something must've been here before."

Charlotte laughed. "Honey, this is London. There was always something here before. I know - let's go the library tomorrow and see what we can find out. Hampstead was a village, 150 years ago, not a suburb of London."

"I'll go with you," Didi put in, finishing her own drink. "I've got nothing to do but spend money and try not to

"If you spend enough money," Paul told her, "You won't have any left for food."

Didi shook her head mournfully. "Somehow it never happens that way. I'll keep working on it, though."

Natalie scrambled up and began collecting the Pina Colada glasses. "Speaking of which, is anybody hungry? Dinner's almost ready."

Paul nodded, grinning. "I'm starving!"

"From what I've heard, that's hardly a revelation. I'll check and see how it's going. There's more booze if anybody wants some." As she headed toward the kitchen, Paul enthusiastically retrieved his glass and filled it with more of the liquid from the pitcher. He offered it to both women with a gesture of his hand, but they shook their heads. When Natalie's scream was heard, Paul was glad he had already deposited the drink pitcher back on the trolley, but his now-full glass fell crashing down, splattering the creamy liquid over him and the trolley. With a curse he scrambled up and headed for the kitchen at a run. Dierdre and Charlotte were soon after him, although they were a little cleaner at this point. Paul collided with Natalie as she ran out of the kitchen, and caught her in his arms. Charlotte noticed with amusement that they were nearly the same height, though Paul was noticeably larger. "What's wrong, Natalie? What happened?"

He was attempting to peer over her shoulder into the kitchen. "There's a man in there - wearing funny clothes!"

Paul ran by her into the kitchen, but returned a moment later. He didn't look amused, and Didi thought she wouldn't want to get into a battle with him. His blue eyes turned to chips of ice, and his jaw looked like it was carved from marble. "Very funny, Nat," he spit out, "There's no one in there! Now I'm covered with gook, and I've broken one of the glasses."

"But there was!" Natalie was pale, and seemed incredibly distraught for a woman who was usually so calm. "A young, good-looking man in old-fashioned clothes!"

Charlotte considered this, and looked around for a camera. "Like an old movie from the thirties?"

Natalie shook her head. "More like a Regency novel."

Didi started to laugh, as much from Paul's disgust at the condition of his Intarsia sweater as at Natalie's vision of a Regency cavalier. "Right, Nat - pretty good."

"He was there!" Natalie was screaming, and Didi stopped laughing - that wasn't like her, either.

Charlotte shook her head in mock disgust, then stopped for a moment. She remembered the man she had seen in the bedroom window. "Wait - I've seen him, too."

They all looked around, but she shook her head. "No, not now - one day when I came to see the house. He was standing in the window of the master bedroom, but when I got up there he was gone."

"That resident ghost, maybe," Dierdre ventured, laughing.

Paul was trying to brush the 'gook' from his sweater. "I'm willing to risk a ghost," he stated wistfully, "If it means getting some food." He pushed Natalie firmly in the direction of the kitchen, overruling her protests. None of them saw the figure in the corner of the room, next to the window. He stepped away from the wall as they disappeared into the kitchen, and watched them go. He was tall and slender, with a narrow waist, broad shoulders and muscular calves - all of which attributes were enhanced by his clothes. He had very dark, wavy hair and white skin, that looked as if he didn't know the meaning of the word 'tan'. He wore tight knee breeches, hose, a white shirt and cravat; and the tight-fitting black satin dress coat of the late Regency period.