There was something about the way she said it that made his stomach turn. “I never actually caught his surname, but he said he lived in Stonewell, and I really need to speak to him.”
Barbara turned her focus on the till, fiddling with money just to give herself something to do. “Are you sure that was his name?”
“Yes – no,” William replied. “I don’t know, honestly.”
Truthfully, he didn’t know anything about Edward, only making him feel more of an idiot for trusting the stranger. Then, another detail came to mind, something specific. “He said he’s been tending to Hanbury’s gardens since it has been vacant. Although I’m beginning to think that is a lie, too.”
The silence between them stretched out, making William regret even bringing up this conversation. Barbara seemed… frightened. Her skin had taken on a green tinge; her lip worried between her teeth as she studied him.
“Something wrong?” William found himself asking. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Behind him the bell above the door dinged. He turned, looking to see who had entered, only to find that nothing was amiss. The door was closed, the brass bell atop it was still. No one stood in the entrance. Looking back at Barbara, it was as if she hadn’t heard it.
“Forget I asked–”
“Therewasa man called Edward who worked on the gardens at Hanbury, but that was many, many years ago. Although he was known by another name I believe.” Barbara ran hands down her apron, itching to get away from the conversation. “I’m really sorry, Will. I think someone local has been playing a nasty joke on you. If I was you I wouldn’t pay them any mind and try and carry on with your time here.”
William watched her snatch a pen from her pocket, tear a spare bit of receipt from her till and begin scribbling something down on it.
“If this Edward comes back, call me.”
She handed the receipt to him, flashing her phone number in neat handwriting.
“Sorry, I’m confused,” William admitted, taking her number with shaking fingers.
“As am I,” Barbara said, bulbous glasses slipping down the tip of her nose.
“What do you mean another name? Are you saying you don’t know Edward?”
“I don’t. There is no one local named Edward. I would know. Everyone comes through my doors, and I take pride in knowing them all by name.”
“But…” William didn’t know what to say. A cold, creeping dread traced down his spine, making every inch of him stiffen. “I saw him. I spoke to him, he–”
Shared my bed. But William couldn’t admit that, the poor woman would have a heart attack.
“Just call me if you ever need me.” She patted his hand after folding his fingers around the receipt. “My family, like everyone else in Stonewell, knows the manor well. We all have our own stories and roots that linger deep beneath those stone walls. Some of us wish to keep them together, others want to rip it down. But either way, we have our reasons.”
William fixed his eyes on hers, wondering if she read just how frightened he felt. “Who’s the Edward you were referring too?”
A wave of sadness creased Barbara’s face, pinching the wrinkled lines beside her eyes and paling her lips as she drew them tight. It was as if her body wanted to stop her from answering the question, but she was far too kind for that.
“He was known asTeddy. A young man sent to the countryside by his family in hopes of hiding from the brewing tension in the 1930s. So you see, he couldn’t possibly be the one you saw. He died a very long time ago.”
William needed fresh air. As her words settled over him, the walls seemed to cave in, threatening to swallow him whole. He didn’t even remember if he said thank you or managed any other words. Because all he could focus on was the name and the truth that came with it.
Teddy. Robert’s Teddy. The one from the journal. The man who tended to the gardens, just as Robert’s own writing confirmed. Whoever William had met yesterday had lied – but more than could’ve been imagined.
Unless…
“No,” William said to himself, steeling his expression on the path back to Hanbury. “I’m not playing this game anymore.”
He wouldn’t believe the seed of doubt the people of Stonewell had planted. All the talks of ghosts, hauntings and deaths. It was getting to him – playing tricks on him. For all he knew, Barbara had the same goal as Mike, just using the cover of kindness to scare William into leaving for good.
Because the Edward from last night had been real. He had touched William, helped him…comfortedhim.
Suddenly, coat or not, he didn’t want to see this Edward ever again. Or whoever –whatever– he was.
The clink of the glass was his only companion as he trekked back toward Hanbury Manor.
