โIts eyes moved.โ
โWhat?โ Elsieโs pen jerked and spluttered over the page. Ruined: her letter to the builder was ruined. โWhat do you want, Mabel?โ
After two weeks of resting in bed, Mabel had resumed dusting and other light tasks. Elsie was inclined to think she could manage a lot more. She played up to her misfortune, dragging herself about like a child with a club foot.
Today she stood in the open doorway of the library, her posture crooked, favouring the uninjured leg. Her right hand clasped a dirty cloth and there was a smear of soot on her nose.
โThe thing. Its eyes moved and looked right at me.โ
Elsie laid down her pen. โWhat thing?โ she asked. But she already knew. It was as though she had spent the last fortnight just waiting for this to happen.
โThe wooden thing.โ โThe companion?โ
โThatโs it.โ Sweat spangled the thin line of hair showing beneath Mabelโs cap. Her throat worked. โI wonโt clean it no more. Its eyes moved.โ
Words formed in her mind; a thousand cutting remarks. She could not utter a single one of them. โThe gypsy boy?โ
Mabel shook her head. โTโother one.โ โShow me.โ
They walked downstairs in silence, stif๏ฌy, like marionettes. Wind gusted through the cracks in the ๏ฌoorboards and skittered leaves
against the windows. From behind the house, Beatrice gave a mournful low.
Helen stood waiting in the Great Hall, her knuckles clenched around a duster.
โYou have moved them again,โ Elsie said, looking at the scratches on the ๏ฌoor. โWhy do you keep moving them?โ
โWeย didnโt move them,โ cried Mabel.
Both companions stood beside the ๏ฌreplace. Thereย wasย something different about the boy, but she could not place her ๏ฌnger on it. He regarded her haughtily, staring to his left. He was taunting her, daring her to notice a change.
Something . . . The angle of his face . . . She shook the thought off. There was no change. Paintings didย notย change, it was a ridiculous fancy.
The little girl looked exactly as Elsie recalled her: the white rose pressed to her breast; her mischievous smile and the olive silk. Her green-brown eyes still carried the same warmth of expression โ they had not moved.
She let out her breath. โYou do not appreciate good art, Mabel. The skill of a painter is to make the eyes look as if they are upon you, no matter where you stand. Go walk past the portraits upstairs. The same thing will happen.โ
โI werenโt walking. Didnโt move a muscle. I stood still, right there, and theyย slid.โ
It was too horrible to imagine. She wouldย notย imagine it, or believe any more of these servantsโ ridiculous stories. โDid Helen see it?โ
โNo, maโam,โ Helen croaked. She wrung the duster. โBut . . .โ โLet me guess: you found writing?โ
โNo. I felt . . . strange. Like someone were watching me.โ
โWe have all felt like that, Helen. It was probably Jasper.โ She turned away from the companions. โI think Mabel had better go to bed. She is clearly still unwell. And since we are here, Helen, I would rather you put the boy back wherever you found him. Miss Sarah only asked for the girl to go on display.โ
โIโll put it in the cellar if you wish, maโam. Still canโt get into the garret.โ
โYes, I was in the middle of writing to Torbury St Jude for someone to open the garret when Mabel started this folly. You put
the gypsy boy in the cellar and I will return to my letter.โ She was heading for the stairs when Mabelโs voice stopped her.
โWhat about tโother one?โ
โMiss Sarah wants the girl companion, Mabel. Have Helen clean it if it scares you so.โ
โNo.โ Mabel pointed a soot-caked ๏ฌnger. โThat one.โ
On the oriental rug, where Rupertโs cof๏ฌn had lain, stood a third companion.
An old woman seated on a chair. It was worse than the gypsy boy; not just sneering but decidedly malevolent. She wore a white coif and a black partlet. Propped in her arms was a doll-like child, unnaturally stiff and blank-faced.
โWhere did that come from? Why . . . why would anyone paint such a thing? That face!โ Her words rang out through the hall and bounced back at her.
Helen trembled.
โPut itย away, Helen. Where on earth did you ๏ฌnd it?โ
Helenโs lips quivered. โHere, maโam. Right here, this morning.โ
