Love & Motorcars: The Mystery of Moss House

I looked at the petite, grey haired woman standing in front of me, stammering nervously. I realised I had seen her somewhere. Then, as she went on speaking in the same strain, it came to me. She was a certain Miss Hickle: an exceedingly thin, emaciated looking person, who did odd jobs at almost everyone’s houses. Some cleaning here, gardening there, that sort of thing. I had been sitting with my head buried in my arms; it was kind of her to stop and ask after me. I thanked her, at the same time rising to my feet. “It’s just that there is no one about… and I be about to leave. It is a dark and thunderous sky tonight,” she spoke ominously. “There can be danger about… human or from the spirit world!” “Yes… quite. Thank you for your concern. It is very kind of you,” I said, looking curiously at her large, frightened eyes. I felt a little uneasy somehow and began to walk towards the door. She followed me close behind, her boots making a loud noise on the stone floor of the old church. “I sees this man,” she said, almost into my ear. This time I jumped, stopping in my tracks. “The vicar… he sends me to change the flowers. Did not want to… but I came in this rain. For the Lord I come, you see… good woman I am. Then I sees this large figure in the churchyard!” “What figure?” I asked quickly, realising she may have been more afraid for herself than concerned for me. “Ah! Now you understand the danger around!” she stared fixedly up at me. I frowned at her, realising she was going to go on and on, now that she had an audience. “He looked up to no good! Strange… gave me a turn, it did… a black, cloaked figure floating amidst the graves in the yard!” “In a black cloak, you say?” I said quickly, my attention caught. She nodded energetically, smiling for some reason. “I tells you, miss… do not sit here alone. Even the house of our good Lord has evil spirits around! Perhaps it was the lost soldier!” she said, her voice shrill now. “Yes, yes… but tell me this… was the figure, man or spirit, alone? Did you notice anyone else? A sound, perhaps?” I asked. She shook her head vociferously. “If I am honest… which I am, miss… a most God-fearing woman I am–” she began again. “The figure, Miss Hickle. Tell me more about the figure,” I prompted authoritatively. “I hurried inside… did the flowers in a right state, I did… then I sees you. Gave me a turn, it did! You, miss, just sitting, head on your arms, bent on the pew like that! Another them spirit, I thought! My heart stopped for a minute, but then there was a ray of lightning and I recognised you. The foreign princess, I says to myself. I mean no disrespect, miss… I am right sorry to speak out of turn… I likes to stay in my station… but Lord Dunham, always so affable and kind… he asks after my rheumatism…” she went on, stammering nervously. “Yes, yes… thank you for your kind enquiry, now I must be going,” I said, turning around again. She kept close to me. “Right pretty you are, miss… if I may say so, miss… not to be forward, miss… for I never wish to be above myself. I says to myself… that is the young lady everyone says that is beautiful… a princess from them fairy tales, they says, miss,” Miss Hickle stood outside the door, smiling at me. “Yes, yes, thank you. Now, let us take a round of the church yard. Come with me, if you please,” I said, interrupting her prattles. “Oh no, miss! I could not! You should not! What if the–” she responded, staring wide-eyed at me, clutching my arm in a claw-like grasp. “Come… nothing will happen. It is our plain duty to check if there is anyone about,” I attempted to persuade her, but she shook her head adamantly. “My duty was to change the flowers, as the good vicar says. I done it, miss… I do not go looking for trouble, miss. Live quietly, I do… honest woman, I am…” she went on in a low, shrill whisper, looking over her shoulder fearfully. “Yes… yes, so you have said… but… but do you not think the vicar will be grateful? Indeed, he will be pleased if… it is our duty to appraise him of the stranger. He will expect it of you,” I spoke forcefully. “Oh…” she mumbled, staring fixedly, a blankness coming over her eyes. “It is our plain duty. We must be brave.” So saying, I turned on my heel purposefully and began to walk towards the graves. She followed me hesitatingly, now at a distance from me, muttering something unintelligible under her breath; a prayer, I supposed. I made my way to the tombstones. The leaves rustled in the cold breeze but it had stopped raining. I trod softly, cautiously, straining my ears as I moved. I did not really hope to see anyone, as Miss Hickle had seen the figure a while ago. Whoever it had been must have left, especially if the person was up to no good. I mean, you would not dawdle if you were on a criminal job, would you? I walked on through the graveyard, then suddenly stopped in my tracks, for I heard distinct murmurs. ‘Could it be?’ I thought to myself, my heart beating with excitement. ‘A whispered conversation… another secret rendezvous!’ I turned to caution Miss Hickle, a finger on my lips, but she was nowhere to be seen. ‘She must have either run away, or been spirited away!’ I moved ahead, closer to the hushed tones, always towards rather than away from trouble, as Merlin would say.