Page 37 of The Guests on South Battery
I was puffing beside her and had to run a little to catch up. “It’s the weirdest thing, really. There’s a presence in Jayne’s house—probably two. Did you ever feel something when you visited Button?”
She shook her head. “No. Just the usual vague sense that we weren’t alone, but no more than in any other old house in Charleston.”
I frowned. “Well, the thing is, I can feel two strong presences, and both have tried to communicate with me, but every time I’m there, something blocks me from seeing anything.”
“Blocks you?”
I nodded, glad for the extra moment to suck air into my lungs. “Like a blackout curtain. I’ve never had that happen before. I was thinking that maybe it was the pregnancy and childbirth, and that I’d lost my abilities along with my entire wardrobe and shoes.”
She sent me a sidelong glance. “Mrs. Houlihan is still shrinking your clothes?”
I kept my chin pointed forward. “It’s still under investigation. Anyway, despite that disaster in your drawing room, I found it almost reassuring that I could see Veronica’s sister.”
Ginette stopped. “You saw Adrienne?”
I nodded, and tried to catch my breath. “Yes. I felt her, and smelled her perfume. And then I saw her reflection in the mirror. She had her hand on Veronica’s shoulder.” I put my hands on my knees for a moment and looked up at my mother. “That means I can still see dead people, right?”
She nodded. “It would seem so. Have there been any other times when you couldn’t see anything but felt the presence of spirits?”
I thought for a moment. “Yes—in Nola’s room. Veronica’s daughter, Lindsey, brought over a Ouija board and they were playing with it.”
Her eyebrows shot up in horror.
“Don’t worry—we told them it wasn’t a game and not to play with itanymore. But something happened before I got there, and there was definitely something in the room—something that might have come from the cistern in the backyard. I knew it was there, but couldn’t see a thing.”
“That is odd,” she said. We resumed walking. “But you saw Adrienne clearly, with nothing blocking you?”
I nodded. “It’s not that I ever asked for this ‘gift,’ but I kind of miss it when it’s not there.” I felt my mother send me another sidelong glance but I ignored her. “Anyway, that’s why I need your help. These two spirits seem to be pretty strong—one pushed her down the stairs and the other caught her.”
“Did you explain to Jayne what had happened?”
“Of course not. I want her to trust me to handle the sale of her house when the time comes. Making her think I’m crazy by confiding in her that I see ghosts isn’t a good way to foster confidence. And she seemed to just brush it off as her clumsiness in falling and her luck in not getting more seriously hurt. I mentioned that to Jack, and he thinks her years of trying to fit in with various foster families have sort of forced her to overlook anything out of the ordinary. Which is a good thing, since she’s living with us.”
Ginette was silent for a moment, thinking. “And you want me to go inside the house with you to see what I can discover since you can’t see it?”
“Correct. I can’t in good conscience sell a house with a violent ghost or encourage Jayne to live there without getting rid of it first.”
We reached Gibbes Street and crossed it, walking toward South Battery. “We’re not far from the house. I’m not going to ask you to touch anything, but just give me a sense of what you might be feeling.”
My mother’s face was filled with concern. “Do we need to stop?”
“Why?” I puffed.
“Because your face is dark red as if you’ve just run a marathon instead of walked a few blocks, and you’re panting like General Lee when I take him for walks in the heat of summer.”
I frowned at her but was saved from saying anything when I realized that we were standing in front of Jayne’s house. I hadn’t planned on it, butmy feet seemed to have brought us here without consulting me. A truck from Hard Rock Foundations was parked outside, and a Dumpster sat in the driveway partially filled with debris, with the nineteen sixties–era kitchen appliances sitting next to it as if huddling to discuss their escape. Perched on the lip of the Dumpster was the black cat, its tail swishing slowly back and forth while its one good eye stared directly back at us.
“How did that fat cat get up there?” Ginette asked.
“I have no idea. And I don’t know who’s feeding it or how it gets into the house, but every time I’m here, there it is. I haven’t been able to get close enough to catch it to see if it has a collar, but if I do and I find out it belonged to Button, then I’ll have to figure something out. Jayne’s allergic to cats.”
“Poor thing,” my mother said softly. “Button was such an animal person. She once said that the more she got to know people, the more she liked her dogs and cats.”
I thought of Marc and Rebecca, and their invitation to rub Jack’s defeat in his face. “And sometimes I’d have to agree.” I turned back to my mother. “While we’re here, we might as well go in. You ready?”
She looked back with a soft smile on her face. “I couldn’t do it today, not with what I just went through. I need at least a week to regain my psychic strength. Besides, I don’t think I agreed to help you.”
“What do you mean? We work well together—remember that ‘together we are stronger’ mantra you make me say again and again?”
