Deadlight-Hall(83)

Having dealt with this, Wilberforce next assisted Samuel Pepys to disinter the cheeses Pepys had buried in his garden to preserve them from the fire’s ravagings, after which the two of them went on to eat oranges with Nell Gwynne. Re-reading this, Michael deleted Nell Gwynne, whose robust way of life might be thought a bit too colourful for seven-and eight-year-olds.

He closed the notebook. It was just on seven. Would it hurt to glance at Maria’s journal again? It might even provide one or two answers to the Hall’s strangeness, and those answers might be reassuring. He would scan a few more pages, and if anything started to be eerie – if Maria Porringer showed signs of developing a taste for lacing her narrative with the macabre – he would close the book and return to Wilberforce.

The journal resumed its tale two days after the macabre attempts to execute Esther, and the first pages had been written in Porringer’s shop.

Friday 18th

11.00. a.m.

This has been a difficult time for everyone, and I think it will continue to be.

I had intended this to be a record of the execution of Esther Breadspear, and of my own part in the event. (Also, of course, of Mr Porringer.)

However, in light of the bizarre and macabre happenings in the condemned cell, I now feel it would be prudent to set down a proper account of the aftermath. People gossip, tongues wag, and although I do not intend this report to be made known in any general way, I think it prudent to have an honest record of everything, against any future accusations.

Mr Porringer and I returned to our own house yesterday. As he said, business was business, and we had our customers to consider. As I write this, he is in the shop, weighing out pills and potions. He is not bustling around quite as briskly as usual, and his nose has the strawberry hue which is always an indication that his digestion is severely upset. Not that it can be wondered. He has eaten nothing save a little bread and milk for the last twenty-four hours.

I am in the parlour, awaiting a visit from Mr Augustus Breadspear, who has requested a private interview.

3.30 p.m.

I do not know what I had expected from Mr Breadspear’s visit, but it was certainly not the proposal he outlined to me.

He admitted that his plan would not have been possible if the prison were not being transferred to a larger, more modern building on the other side of the county.

‘And I don’t object to telling you, Mrs Porringer, that I have made substantial contributions to the Prison Reform Society,’ he said, linking his fat fingers together and regarding me. He has a pudgy face and small, rather mean eyes, but he is a well-respected businessman, and his company at Salamander House thought most prosperous. ‘As a consequence of which, the prison authorities – including the good Mr Glaister – are inclined to look favourably on any request I make.’

In short, it seems that Mr Breadspear is to purchase Deadlight Hall. I suppose a very large sum of money must be involved, but Esther Breadspear’s fortune will now be completely in his control. Everyone knows that Esther’s father, a shrewd gentleman, tied up his daughter’s money in some kind of Trust, with a great many restrictions written into it. I imagine none of those apply any longer.

Mr Breadspear intends to turn Deadlight Hall into a small orphanage, which I dare say is a very praiseworthy thing, and in addition will create what he calls an Apprentice House – a place where young people learning their trade can live. This, too, is worthy and will be useful, for Mr Breadspear himself takes a good many young apprentices into Salamander House, and there are other manufactories and organizations in this area that do the same.

He has asked me if I will take on the post of housekeeper and general manager at Deadlight Hall. He feels I would be reliable and efficient.

‘And discreet,’ he said, looking at me very intently.

Not betraying my surprise, I said, ‘I believe I could be interested. If circumstances were favourable.’

‘I should make them favourable,’ said Mr Breadspear. ‘You would not be the loser, Mrs Porringer. But there is one extremely important condition, and it would be a private – a very private – arrangement between us.’

‘Well?’

‘Within the household of Deadlight Hall I want a locked room – a completely private place of security set as far apart from the household as possible. No one must know of its existence. That means that whoever undertakes the post of manager and housekeeper will be responsible for overseeing the creation of such a room.’

‘And who would it be intended for, this room?’ I asked.