Page 80 of The Secrets of the Tea Garden
‘I’m sure they did,’ Libby persisted. ‘I remember Anant Ram saying something about it when I was little. To take away the bad luck.’
Suddenly Flowers appeared out of the dark. James gave a startled cry.
‘Goodness you gave us a fright,’ said Libby. ‘Are you feeling any better?’
‘A little now I’ve slept,’ said Flowers, though she still looked drained. She sat down next to Libby.
‘Would you like a nightcap?’ asked James.
‘Yes, please.’
James got up and poured her a whisky, generously replenishing his own glass. She thanked him and took a gulp.
‘I heard you talking about The Lodge,’ said Flowers.
James said, ‘Libby shouldn’t have taken you. The cycle obviously exhausted y—’
‘I think it’s haunted,’ Flowers interrupted. ‘Going into the house made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. I’ve never believed in ghosts but I’m sure I saw something.’
‘So did I,’ said Libby, ‘but it was only a shadow. The place is a bit creepy though.’
‘That’s old bungalows for you,’ said James. ‘All creaks and dark corners.’
‘It was more than that,’ said Flowers. ‘There was a definite presence and a terrible atmosphere.’
‘I think you are being fanciful,’ said James.
‘It was like a great cloud of sadness,’ said Flowers with a shudder. ‘Didn’t you feel it, Libby?’
Libby was unnerved by her words. She had experienced a strange feeling in the room beyond the sitting room but that was just because it was dark. But her father seemed agitated by the conversation and she didn’t like to see him upset.
‘No, not really,’ she answered. ‘As Dad says, it’s just an old house.’
Flowers asked, ‘So what was it called before it became The Lodge?’
‘What does it matter?’ James said short-temperedly.
‘Dad! She’s only asking,’ said Libby.
James knocked back his whisky. Libby thought he wasn’t going to answer. Abruptly he said, ‘Dunsapie Cottage.’
‘That rings a bell,’ said Libby.
‘Isn’t it time you young ladies retired to bed?’ James asked.
Flowers shivered though it wasn’t chilly. ‘I know it sounds pathetic, but can I sleep in your room tonight, Libby? I don’t feel like being on my own.’
‘Of course you can,’ Libby said. ‘You can take my bed and I’ll go on the truckle bed. Ayah Meera sometimes slept on it next to me before Mungo was born.’
‘Thank you,’ Flowers said with a look of relief.
Libby took a long time to fall asleep and when she did it was only fitful. All week she had slept deeply, drugged by the scented heat of the warm nights and the long alcohol-fuelled dinners. But she had been disturbed by the events of the day; the trip to The Lodge, Flowers’s strange reaction and her father’s reluctance to talk about the old bungalow. What was it that eluded her about the place? Where had she heard the name Dunsapie Cottage before?
She knew there was a Dunsapie Loch in Edinburgh – her Uncle Johnny had mentioned it when reminiscing about being a student at Edinburgh University. So the bungalow had probably been named by a homesick Scotsman working at the Oxford plantation ...
Libby came awake with a start. Something had woken her. The sound of an animal howling? She sat up and listened. It was more of a whimpering and was coming from somewhere very close by. She scrambled off the truckle bed and peered through the mosquito net that draped over both beds.
‘Where are you going?’ Flowers’s voice made her jump. Her friend was swinging her legs over her bed to follow.
