THE MANSION

1

It is in the May of 88 that I found myself at the Hammersmith residence, of the unfortunate circumstances that led to my being there we shall indulge not for whatever is unpleasant is best forgotten, as my mother used to say, though, I must say I was a bit apprehensive as to the nature of the job of being the governess of three really naughty children ( this important fact was mentioned in the job description in the Times advertisement) but since it paid well, five thousand pounds a year plus lodging, clothing, and food I had no qualms replying in affirmative with my qualifications, my past experience as a governess to Mr. Hammersmith. I remember later, Emma Smith, the cook telling me that these kids were so notoriously naughty that but for five applications there were none to answer for the job and I was immediately selected as I was the best person to apply for this job. Though for all things said, I must say that I was immediately taken off my feet in awe at the immensity of the Hammersmith residence. A coach piloted by a handsome Youngman was there at the Railway Station, to pick me and lead me to my new home for the next year. But it was at the gates that my apprehension really vanished, for the magnanimity of the mansion rest assured me that my employer could well afford to pay me the staggering promised amount.

But there was one disturbing event that occurred at the Station. No sooner had the coachman taken my luggage and started for the mansion – I was enjoying the serene beauty of the morning – the lovely rolling snow capped green hills, the fresh mountain air, the lovely English countryside, and the distant houses their tops clouded with mist – my thoughts kept returning to Mr. Wordsworth’s published works and how much he had captured the scenic beauty of earth unlike Mr. Keats.

Suddenly, I heard something bump against the coach.

I pivoted, startled just in time to catch a man’s face come around to the window. I shrieked. His face was a mess of plastered brown dirt, his eyes bore a wild look, and his hair was unkept, dirty. In a moment’s notice, he had managed to extricate the coach door and swung his body inside. I caught a glimpse of a tattered coat, with a very dirty shirt underneath. His trousers too were tainted with things that I better not describe, and he smelt so foul.

‘Aa,…aa,” he spoke while I screamed again. He held my hand firmly and was pulling me away. Suddenly coming to my senses, I gave him a firm shove that caught him off balance. Surprise seemed to fill his eyes. But before I realized it the coach had come to a sudden stop, and the coachman roughly extricated this tramp. I must say with such a force, that perhaps half the coach shook. The coachman brandished the horsewhip, and gave the tramp some vicious welts. The tramp seemingly made no attempt to attack the coachman rather raised both his arms to defend himself. It was a one way fight. The coachman kicked the tramp several times as the tramp continued to make the strange noises. He finally managed to yank the collar of the tramp to some nearby bushes while I

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sat spellbound in horror for such violence I have not seen often in men. The tramp lay still.

“I hope you are fine Miss. Anna,” he says approaching the coach.

“Who is this frightful man?” I ask somewhat petulantly.

“Oh him!” he says with a sneer on his face. “He’s an old tramp. He’s mad though I must warn you.”

“But why has he attacked us? And why did he say nothing.” It was obvious to me that the tramp wanted to drag me into the nearby bushes perhaps to rob me, or maybe for a far more heinous crime.

“He’s mad. He does this. They threw him from the village. By the way he’s dumb, so that’s why he uses animal talk. Would you like a cup of water miss?”

“Oh ! No. I just want to get away from that dreadful man.”

2

I guess it was my ability to play the piano that got me this job. In fact, I would hear later from both Emma, and Jonathan Brown, the handsome young man at the Station, that Mr.Smith who had lost his beloved Grace, a charming young lass I should say to consumption, had retired from all worldy life, and remained confined to the upper quarters where the entry was just restricted to Mr. Larkin, the senior butler, who it seemed had been serving the Smith Family for more than four decades. I guess, it might be very much possible that Mr. Larkin, a bald, thin, pale young man of serious countenance might have been with the Smith Family even before Mr. Smith might have been born. But Mr. Larkin was the serious type, though, inspite of what I expected he was not in the least offensive, or stern as might be expected rather he just let peace reign in the household and let everyone go on with their duties, only interfering when it required of him to do so; once, Emily had managed to get the soup cold, and I had seen Mr. Larking almost having a fit until Emily got it right.

I was led to my quarters; unlike where Emily, and Jonathan lived, that is they had quarters outside the house, I was assigned to the ground floor quarters beside the kitchen. A few steps down where I lived was Mr. Larkin’s room. I seldom have found it open so there is no way for me to acquire any knowledge as to its interiors.

The second reason for my apprehensions was that I suspected that Mr. Smith since he was paying so well, might very well expect services that went above and beyond just a governess; perhaps some naughty night duties; and of that I had confided in secret with severe apprehension as to its consequence with Emily, who has become quite a trusted lieutenant for me. She laughed – I guess that is all that is to be said of this matter.

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The only surprise in this matter was that I didn’t have any work. To elaborate the matter further, I understand, that nearly a day had passed quietly; I was happily well settled in my room and even the food was great. But then there were no kids. I hadn’t seen even a trace of the kids till now. I was curious – after all, it was my job description, and even then I didn’t take anything that was free in life for life seldom has anything free in it, as my mother said often. I asked Emma, not having the courage to ask anyone else.

“So I haven’t seen the kids, where are they?”

Emma laughed.

“You’re the workaholic type aren’t you?

I smiled courteously. “Oh! They’re having a ball of a vacation dear in the Swiss Alps. There’s there of them. Jane, the eldest, Michael the middle one, and Percy the youngest one, but don’t worry dear, I mean, you’ll have your fill when they do arrive here. Maybe the next week I hear.”

Something flipped inside of me. “ How come they’re so naughty if they’re so young?” My experience has taught me that they were quite opposite characteristics you would find in the kids. The younger the kid is the less you need to worry about his mischief for they tend to sleep their way in this world.

“Who told you they’re young?” she quipped.

“I guessed,” I said flushed. “Oh there you go missy. They’re not young. Percy, that’s the youngest one, I mean he’s close to eleven years old. You just find him alone more than handful.”

“But what is it with Mr. Smith?” I ask somewhat overzealously.

Emma looked at me thoughtfully. “ You really are the inquisitive one there aren’t you?”

I stayed silent. I really had expected her to give me a reply, rather than the mute, stony silent stare that she gave me. She seemed to have guessed. She quips suddenly, “ Oh! It is not that. It’s just that everyone here is so angry that this family going downhill. It’s happened ever since Mrs. Smith died. Grace that was her name; Oh! How rightly she was named too, every bit as graceful and as humble. Oh! I say the Lord he sometimes really does wrong don’t he. Taking her. You know , last Christmas before she and Mr. Smith here, went to Paris to visit her sisters. And she brings so many furs, and dresses, not like the ones we wear hear but pretty, and she just looks at my eyes while I am there touching the borders of the pink dress there, and she says – you like that one Emma, ey! And then, I bought this one just for you. I know she was lying madam was. For surely not one could be expected to gift something like that to a cook. It was just so great.”

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I could almost see the tears in her eyes. I could now understand. “ So it was a love marriage between them? I said.

“ Oh ! Love it was. Surely Mr. Smith has since but collapsed. Ever since they buried Madam down at the family graveyard – that’s where five generations of the family are buried – I remember he just withdrew. I mean, it’s the same bedroom and all; upstairs you know, the master bedroom. He just cut himself off from the whole world. I’ve never even seen him come down for the kids ey. Surely it can be nothing but love what master has. You know, there’s not another richer man in these plains until Scraborough, and Gosh that’s two night away on the stagecoach. So much wealth and so little it could help.”

“But then, how is it that I was hired?” I ask amazed.

“Oh ! that! Hark! Mr. Larkin he takes care of everything now. Perhaps it was your experience, and your piano, I mean Mr. Smith there, he does take to the piano pretty well. Maybe that’s what swung the whole deal in front of you. Ay! But then, why ask? You’ll get paid aye, I seen that letter you wrote asking for an advance to come here missy. Infact it was me and John who sent you the money that Mr. Larkin asked us.”

I soon left leaving Emma to cook for herself. She refused my offer to assist her in the night’s meal saying that it would get her lazy. I spent the rest of the day roaming around the house. It really was a huge house. There were wings here, and not to say, there was a whole wine cellar leading down from the kitchen. I did however get a warning from Emma regarding sampling any of the wine there. “Mr. Larkin he keeps records in his head. Seldom aye! But yes, just between us girls, I have managed to get two bottles of great wine aye. It’s in my room. Come night and we could celebrate.”

I smiled. I had no intention of stealing anything from this household. I just work hard for my wages, just as my mother used to say, and the lord would take care of all my needs. That I did believe, there’s no substitute for hard work.

3

The walls were soddy; it smelt stale in the cellar so overpowering that I shut my nose in distaste; grey moss had overgrown onto the wooden rows of cabinets, and even the rows of wine bottles which were barely visible in the faint light were covered in this slimy creation of God. Perhaps it is the moistness from the sombre black stone walls that led this to turn into a haven for the ungodly slimy things - I took an instant dislike to this place, and if it wasn’t for my curiosity to look at the wine labels, and the blends I’d sure have left this dismal place instantly. As I walk a few more steps I saw two wooden boards nailed to the wall; I had to rub the moss out of them which left my hand full of wet green moss – one was “ Wilbur Bros , Cellar Furnishers, Installed in Hammersmith Summer House, 1759.” The house certainly was old! So this was just a summer house of the

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Hammersmith family! Wonder why the whole family moved over here? Maybe the property might have moved to other Hammersmith descendants.

But something on the other side of the cellar caught my attention! At once, I felt something else! There! In the darkness, I could see an outline. Something crouched there. Then a deep growl emanated from the thing yonder.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to run. Back upstairs. Beyond the huge iron gate into the warm and cooking smells of Emma’s kitchen. My eyes were singularly focused on this thing. It was in the deeper recesses of the cellar. Something was there. Something that was moving towards me. I turned around and raced to the steps. As I did, I heard it moving towards me. I was still far away from the steps which just seemed to get farther fel farther away. It seemed as though I would never get there. I felt it touch my leg - a wet, nasty repulsive touch but it was then that I screamed.

4

“You could have told me Emma?” I said miffed.

“I forgot dear.” Emma said sheepishly. Sitting on a wooden work bench in the kitchen, I held onto the glass of tea which Emma prepared for me. I was angry. My scream had brought down Emma down to cellar rushing forward hastily.“ It is Caesar, he’s a Rottweiler, that darned monster almost had me twice. And you never see it coming. If it wasn’t for Mr. Larkin who’s got it down there to protect the cellar from the wine thieves who made off twice with precious bottles, that darned beast wouldn’t be anywhere near the house let alone in the house.” She had sounded exasperated at seeing my pure horror. Few things had terrified me so much. Perhaps it was to my utter chargin that whatever it was underground was a living thing that seemed to settle me. But I guess I could never forgive Emma for giving me the scare of my life.

I retired somewhat crankily to my room and spent the whole afternoon indoors locked up. When I did venture out in the evening, it was already growing dark outside I was somewhat surprised to see Mr. Larkin sitting in the pathway on a chair looking absent minded. As I passed by him he spoke in a low tone: “ I apologize Miss. Anna.”

I nodded.

“I wish you to reconsider any thought of yours to leave us.”

“I am not,” I say, noticing a very tired look into an old man’s eyes.

“I must thank you for the kindness you show in staying back with us. Should you feel any trouble here, do not hesitate to get in touch with me, for rest assured your stay here should be pleasant and such is my duty.”

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“Thank you Mr. Larkin. Your kindness is well appreciated. But I must remind you that I certainly am a woman bred into toughness and as such I thank you again for your concern, but it is the kids that have brought me here, and no I do not have any plans to leave.”

With a small turn of his hand, I understood that his interest in me had waned, and I took to wandering outside – my intense annoyance at Emma for not informing me led me away from the kitchen and into the grounds. Across in the west the huge rim of the sun was barely visible over the huge stone walls which now seemed to be immense, frightful perhaps. Across a solitary huge oak tree stuck out in the middle of the ground, while all across the ground silver birch trees and yellow leaves of distinctive aspen trees gave this villa a somewhat frightening appeal. I reasoned this to my afternoon’s encounter with Caesar, and calmly walked through the lawns. As I had reached a place near the oak tree, which seemed more gigantic and primitive, I happened to glance back at the villa. My eyes caught a distinctive movement in the upper floor window. It seemed as though someone was watching me. I tried to stare harder, but whoever it was seemed to have gained knowledge of my counter intrusion and vanished. All that was left was a dark swinging curtain. Of this I decided not to speak anymore- I was sure that it was Mr. Smith himself getting a little curious perhaps. But was it not a strange way to behave. I wonder!

There was nothing special about the evening either, as just as the gas lamps were being lit by Jonathan all around the house I entered it. I had a distinct feeling of unease spread over me. Emma joked with Jonathan all through supper though I ate my in silence not sharing their lurid jokes– Mr. Larkin had his meals in his room never there with us. I left back into the house.

It was around ten in the night I guess as I had no inkling as to what time it was when I suddenly woke up in cold sweat. I was drenched, as if I just walked in the rain. Then I realized what it was that had woken me up. I heard incessant loud moans, I couldn’t quite distinguish what made those moans. Instantaneously, fear gripped me sending chills down my spine as I lay unable to act. Was I in a dream? Was this a dream? Was it something as Collins called from beyond the grave? As I arose fully awake in the inky darkness I realized that the sounds were definitely human. A woman’s voice. Emma? Is she all right? Mother Mary! Had something happened to her. I remembered what my mother often said to herself:

“Never be afraid of ghosts my child, world maybe, for death shall come only once, howsoever.”

I hurriedly lit a candle, and still in a white nightgown I set foot outside the safety of my door just as the moans became more incessant and louder.

Another harsh sound plagued me – a bird singing inside the confines of the house – there were no pet birds in the house at all. I tried to visualize what it was that was making this

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odd sound – it seemed to be coming from around Mr. Larkin’s room which was farther away. Instantly the idea of waking Mr. Larkin up and going together to investigate these moans evaporated. When I reached the central hallway, I could discern an increased pitch in the moans – certainly, they were coming from the upstairs rooms. Mr. Smith’s rooms. Two extensions were closed shut – locked out. I entered the only extension and caught sight of light coming in from behind a closed door in the right aisle. I blew out the candle, as I my steps etched towards the door. Now I realized I was mistaken. Yes, the sounds weren’t coming from this room they were coming from upstairs. I retraced my steps back to the staircase.

This upper level was constructed differently. Instead of three only two archways stood on either side of the staircase. It was obvious for only one door was open – the doors were huge, ornate almost twice my own height. This door lead onto several rooms. Now, I had no problem finding the right door in the darkness for Emma’s screams just got louder.

The room was dark – I realized that another well lit room stood on the other side .The door certainly was closed. The sounds were coming from here. Stuffed animals, probably trophies of hunts, stared lifelessly from walls on both sides. Occasionally the sounds of Emma died down only to resume back again. As I walked in fascination to the last doorway I could make out the names on portraits: Sir Richard Smith, Sir Humbert Adelbe Smith, The Richard Smith Family, Miss Jane Dorset Smith, William Smith the second. It seemed like the family album. I distracted myself from the portraits as I slowly opened the door.

She was naked. Stark naked as the way she was brought into this world. Her breasts jiggled with the rhythmic movement of the cloaked figure as he thrust himself wildly between her upraised legs. What was it on her breasts? Was it blood? Was this cloaked figure Jonathan. Why was he cloaked? Or was it Mr. Smith? Why wear cloaks? These questions rattled my mind like ice in a hailstorm. I looked carefully and saw that there was one more cloaked figure but he stood watching intensely this grotesque act. I looked over my shoulder to see the safety of darkness. As I retreated keeping this unholy in view I saw the other man come to Emma, and with both hands on her throat begin to strangle her. Suddenly her pleasure moans died down. I didn’t know what they were doing; only it didn’t appear like Emma was being murdered. I couldn’t care less.

“I need to get out of here, fast,” I say to myself.

As I passed the first floor landing, my eyes fell upon the light. What was there? My wretched feelings doubled as I plodded defiantly into the aisle. My only curiosity was the light. As I peeked inside I was mesmerized by the brightness of the light which seemed to be coming from some place in the ceiling. It was the figure of the man in the bed that scared me! Mr. Smith!

“Mr. Smith! Sorry Sir! I am Anna, you might know. I am the new nanny of your kids. Sir, I am mortified at calling you at such a late hour but I am sure you should see something sir.”

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I walked closer to the sleeping man. He slept fully dressed like he was welcoming the Queen! Clothed in a brown suit, with medals pinned to his chest! The closed eyes were deep in their sockets. Skeletal, that’s what he was. My eyes rested carefully on his chest. God! This was a corpse!

“ I hope you have realized that he is a corpse, long since dead.”

I turned around aghast. Mr. Larkin stood before me clothed in a white robe. So it was them in those robes! Jonathan and Mr. Larkin. He looked calm. “You would have known anyhow, but it is couple of days. Later we would kill you anyhow.”

His eyes were cold, expressionless. Yet somehow I realized that both of us ken w my present predicament.I was trapped.

He stood blocking the only route out of this room. And Mr. Larkin inspite of his age stood around six feet of muscle. It was impossible! I looked around – nothing.

“Miss. Anna, you have nothing to fear here. You will be dead in a few days. Now, I am afraid we’ll have to tie you up.”

He lunged at me. I caught a glimpse of something shining in his hand, it was a knife. As he clasped my nightgown, I struggled. But it was like the grip of a python, or perhaps facing a polar bear – something that I had only heard of. He slapped me hard with an open palm, I finally understood he was trying to plunge his dagger into me! I fought back with my all strength! Blood spurted out of his arms where my nails had plunged deep into his skin. I looked askew, and my white nightgown was bathed in red. Simultaneously something burned inside of me. He had stabbed me!

The next few moments passed in a blurry panic as both of us struggled! I perhaps, in the last fight of my life. And he to kill me! Now, he managed to extricate himself away from me. He leapt slightly and brought down the knife in a wicked slashing ark, momentarily I caught a wild look on his face, but I ducked. The knife however, plunged at where moments before I was. It plunged into Mr. Smith’s heart. Larkin seemed repulsed suddenly, for he almost ran away from the dead body of Mr.Smith. Larkin seemed to have gained back his senses, when he came around to me for one final attack. I would die!

“Mr. Larkin,” came a voice behind him. “I told you to take care of Dad.” Larkin spun around, and so did I. Thank God! In the doorway stood a boy of about eleven years old. On seeing the boy my heart sank. A boy was the last person who could rescue me.

“Percy!”, Mr. Larkin cried, “you!”

The knife slipped from Mr. Larkin’s hands and clattered onto the floor. Then Mr. Larkin spoke something I’ll never forget in my life. “But I killed you myself, you bastard.”

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“That you did Mr. Larkin. But I told you to take care of Dad, didn’t I? And you can’t do that!”

Mr. Larkin screamed. Bone chilling, terrifying like the last shriek of an animal in death throes. I stood rooted to the ground, unbelieving. Percy, it must be Percy, for Mr. Larkin was suddenly transformed in a cowering bastard. Mr. Larkin put the symbol of the cross with the fingers of both the hands. I felt like I heard the Lord’s Prayer from his lips simultaneously.

“Devil worshipper, thou shall not say the Lord’s Prayer,” Percy said. Then, unbelieving he glided in the air, moved slowly to Mr. Larkin who stood rooted on the ground, too scared to say anything with both his hands which vaguely resembled the cross shaking vigorously.

Then Percy stopped midway. “I am afraid Miss. Anna,” Percy says facing me, “it is time for you to leave us alone.” Too flabbergasted to say anything I ran. When I reached the doorway, I turned around to see Percy, steadily floating in the air towards Mr. Larkin whom I couldn’t see. My last glimpse was of Percy’s feet, which seemed to walking on air.

I never remember running so fast as I did then. The house seemed to pass by me in a whirr - My lungs seared, rasped until the time I had reached the grounds, when exhausted, panting for breath I stopped. It was then that I heard two orphan screams. One clearly was a woman, the other a man’s.

5

The next few days passed like life was a trance; upon my information as to the horrors of the mansion three sturdy constables broke into the mansion in the early hours of the morning. When they reached the main entrance to the house they saw three bodies swinging from the centre hooks – two bodies clothed in white cloaks, and a woman stark naked. With considerable effort they pulled all the bodies down and a few days later the bodies were buried in unmarked graves outside the city.

There were also evidences that the police found as to classify them as ‘devil worshippers’. Indeed, the entire third floor had been transformed – there were inverted crosses, body parts of animals, obscene statues of Mother Mary in lascivious poses. The reason why I was brought became apparent to me immediately. I remembered Mr. Larkin saying that they would kill me anyway in a couple of days. I was to be sacrificed.

At the closed door inquest, which I was required to attend to provide my version of the story, Mr. Lantham, the Doctor reasoned that all three people died of strangling, asphyxiation caused by hanging. I remember his exact words: “they were hung by the necks to die.” For me these words had a different meaning.

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Mr. Smith’s body they found remarkably preserved. But the most staggering surprise came when they found all the three children: Jane, Michael, and Percy in one of the rooms. All the three children had stab wounds on their bodies with strange markings across their chests. Mr. Lantham said that “it is a classic case of ritual sacrifice.” It puzzled me for my inquiries at the village revealed that indeed these three had remained with the family for more time than anyone at the village cared to remember. And, the story that had been circulated in the village being that these children were in France with their aunt.

There were several unanswered questions that remained? Why had all the three faithful servants killed? And if they were satanic devil worshippers then why had they turned after Mr. Smith’s death. Why never reveal Mr. Smith’s death? I guess my mother always said best: “some questions missy you better not ask.”

The following is a work of fiction. The characters and incidents portrayed and the names herein are fictious and any similarity to the name , character and history of any person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and unintentional.

© 2008 T.Prabhakar. All Rights Reserved

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