Part seven
She fidgeted as she waited for him to answer, first sitting and then remembering how dirty she must be and standing once more. At last, he picked up the phone.
“Hello.”
“Oh, William! It’s Trixie. I’m so glad you’re there. I’ve just found some things hidden in the attic that I think you really need to see.”
“Hidden? Where?” he asked. “And by whom?”
“By Myrtle, I’d say.” She glanced at the note addressed to Myrtle and reaffirmed in her own mind that deduction. In a few words, she summarised her findings. “There’s a lot of important clues here. I don’t know where the letter to Silas came from, but I’m kind of thinking it’s the most important of all.”
There was a smile in his voice when he answered. “You keep on surprising me, Trixie. Whenever I think you can’t possibly find any more in that house, you just go and prove me wrong. Surely, this is the last time, isn’t it?”
She smiled. “I wouldn’t be so sure. This morning, Ivy asked me to help her find a lost photograph and I saw the inside of a couple of her drawers. There could be any number of secrets left to find.” She sobered. “But getting back to the things I found, I think they upset Myrtle. She saw the same thing that I did – that the handwritings matched – and somehow she found this letter from Emmeline, whoever she was. She could have destroyed all of them, but she didn’t. I wonder why that was.”
He sighed. “Myrtle was not the kind of woman to baulk at unpalatable facts. They remained facts, no matter how distasteful she found them. I would guess that she wanted to put them out of sight, not wipe them from the earth. She might have thought, too, that she might need them again some day. She was, above all else, a practical person.”
“That makes sense, I guess.” She decided to consider that matter settled and turn to more pressing issues. “So, what do you want to do with these? Do you want to get some copies?”
“For sure. I’ll come right away.” He sounded much younger than his years when he added, “I can’t wait to see them.”
“In that case, I’ll see you soon.”
They said their goodbyes and ended the call. Only ten minutes later, she was greeting him again at the door.
“Come this way,” he urged, leading her to the same seating area they had used the first time she had entered the house. “What have you got?”
She went through the papers with him, sharing her interpretations of the handwriting where it was difficult. A glimmer of excitement showed in his eyes.
“We’re really getting somewhere,” he exclaimed. “I never dreamed that we could get this far, but it’s really happening. I’ll take these now and make copies and forward them on to the genealogist I have working on the research. I hope they’ll give her some pointers to find those descendants.”
“Could you ask her to look for Emmeline, too,” Trixie suggested, outlining her theory that she was close to Calvin Ellis. “She might have been his wife, or his sister, or his cousin or something. Maybe her identity can help us figure out just what happened.”
He nodded and tucked the papers into a folder he had brought. “I’ll bring these back when I’ve copied them, so that you can have them for reference. Is there anything else to report?”
She shook her head. “I talked with Ivy this morning, but nothing she said told me anything new. If she’s up to it, I’ll try again at lunch time.”
He glanced at his watch. “It’s almost that now. Go and eat; see what Ivy can tell you. I’ll bring these back in an hour or two.”
Once more, they parted ways. Trixie sat down to lunch a short time later and waited for Ivy to appear. She was later than usual and seemed fretful and unsettled. Trixie’s heart sank.
“She’s had a bad dream,” Sarah mentioned, in a low voice which may or may not have held a note of reproach. “I’m not sure of her state of mind right now, but it’s not at all what it was earlier.
Trixie nodded, feeling responsible but not knowing what to do about it. She waited for someone else to speak, but neither Ivy nor Sarah did so in the next couple of minutes. At last, Ivy looked up from her food and broke the silence.
“Oh, it’s lovely to see you, Edith. How is poor Philip?”
Trixie tried not to cringe. “What was the last that you heard?”
“You were thinking of sending him to a home,” Ivy answered. “Have you done that? Is that why I haven’t heard any more?”
“No, I haven’t. He’s a little better,” Trixie answered, sickened by the turn of the conversation. She had thought that question such a good idea for solving the difficulty, but was now regretting that she had asked.
“Oh, that’s good, I suppose.” Ivy frowned. “It might be better if he did go into the home, though. You could come back here. I miss having you around.”
“I miss it, too.” Trixie tried to smile sympathetically, but did not feel that she had pulled it off. “But I have a home somewhere else. And I do need to look after Philip myself.”
“How like you, dear. You’re so caring.”
They lapsed into silence and Trixie dreaded hearing any more. She had thought it bad enough not knowing what to say about Philip, whoever he was, but to hear that the poor child might have been institutionalised was far worse.
“And how is Harold, dear?” Ivy asked, looking up once more.
“H-Harold?” Trixie’s first, wild thought was of her uncle on her father’s side, but that made no sense at all.
Ivy gave a girlish giggle. “Your husband. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten his name.”
“Of course not. He’s very well, thank you.”
“I do hope you’ll stay and see Mother. She always likes to speak to my friends when they visit.” She glanced around, seeming confused. “I wonder where she is? She should be here.”
“Never mind,” Sarah soothed in a firm voice. “How is your lunch?”
Ivy looked at her as if unsure who Sarah was, but replied politely, “Lovely, thank you.” At once, she reverted to her previous train of thought. “Mother will want to speak to you when she comes back. She always does.”
“I’ll make sure I look out for her before I go,” Trixie promised, not knowing what else to say.
At this, Ivy looked confused. “You never seemed this willing before. Is there a problem?”
Trixie felt like banging her head on the table in exasperation. No matter what she said, it always seemed to be wrong.
“No, there’s no problem. I meant I’d look out and avoid her.”
Once again, Ivy giggled. “That’s more like what I expect from you, dear. I know that Mother will want to see you, though. I hope you will try to see her. I’d much rather that she was happy.”
“I don’t think she’s ever really happy,” Trixie answered, letting her exasperation speak for her. “She isn’t happy and she doesn’t want anyone else to be, either.”
“Hush,” Ivy begged. “I don’t want her to hear you say that. You know how she gets.”
“I don’t know why you let her control you like this.” Trixie knew that she should not be pursuing this conversation, but could not seem to stop. “You don’t have to live this way.”
Ivy shook her head. “You’ve never understood, have you Edith? I can’t be like you. This is where I belong.”
Trixie took the old lady’s hand. “I want you to be happy, Ivy. That’s all.”
“I am happy, most of the time,” she answered. “I’ve missed you when you’ve been away, but I’m happy here.”
“Have you finished your lunch, Ivy?” Sarah asked, before Trixie could say anything else. “I think it’s time to go.”
“Yes, I have, thank you.” Ivy turned pointedly away from Sarah and grasped Trixie’s hand. “You have to live you own life, dear, and I have to live mine. Neither of us likes the other’s choices, but there’s nothing to be done about it. I didn’t want you to choose going with Harold over staying here with me, but you’re happy with him, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am,” Trixie answered, hoping that was true for Edith. “I know I made the right choice.”
“I made the right choice for me. I need to be here for Mother’s sake. It’s only right that I stay here with her.”
“Time to go now, Ivy,” Sarah insisted, moving closer to help the old woman to her feet.
With a strength that seemed impossible for her frail frame, Ivy shook her off. “I’m glad you’re here, Edith. I want you to know how much it means to me.”
“I’m glad to be here,” Trixie told her, smiling. “Are you tired? Maybe you should go and sit down for a while. You look like you need it.”
“I do feel tired,” Ivy acknowledged. “Why is that? Have I been ill?”
“Yes, but you’re getting better now, aren’t you?” Trixie answered. “Go with Sarah and have a rest. I’m sure you’ll feel better afterwards.”
This time, Ivy allowed Sarah to guide her away to her suite. Trixie stayed where she was, blown away by the conversation that had just taken place. She could not understand what had possessed her to say some of the things she had said. For a fanciful moment, she wondered if the unknown Edith had been present, guiding her, but she dismissed that almost at once. Ivy had given her some insights into Edith’s personality and Trixie herself had responded in the way she imagined that Edith might have.
Now, with Ivy off for another rest and all of her current theories of places to search exhausted, Trixie found herself at a loose end. A surge of frustration went through her as she thought of the places she might have gone if she had a car. There were so many questions that she wanted answered. She decided to see if any of them could be answered from where she was and so went back to her room to try searching the internet.
To her further frustration, nothing seemed to be available to her. She found the name of a local newspaper, but its archives were not online. She thought she recognised the address given for a physical archive, but was not sure that she could walk that far. She was in the throes of a temper tantrum at the universe’s refusal to bend itself to her will, when she heard tapping on her door.
“Trixie? Are you in there?”
She jumped up and threw open the door. “Hi William. That was quick.”
He nodded and handed the papers back to her. “Yes, I have an errand to run and I thought I’d drop this by on the way. I take it Ivy wasn’t up to much talking?”
Trixie shook her head. “She had a bad dream this morning, after I talked to her, and by lunch she’d regressed back into the past. She gave me some more information about Edith, but nothing that was relevant to what you want.”
He smiled. “You’re very curious about Edith, aren’t you?”
“I can’t help it. I’m curious about everything.” She felt sheepish as she admitted this.
“Would you happen to be curious about the genealogist who’s doing the research for me?” he asked. “She’s a local woman and I’m off to deliver these copies to her now. You could come along, if you’d like.”
“Yes, I’d love to,” she answered, grabbing her bag. “Let’s go.”
They travelled together to the woman’s house, only a few minutes’ drive away, and William gestured for her to precede him to the door. She rang the bell, which was soon answered by a woman in perhaps her forties, with a trim figure and dark brown hair.
“Hello! I’m Lisa Anders. You must be Trixie,” she deduced. “Hello, William. Come in, both of you.”
They entered the house and she guided them to a group of comfortable chairs.
“What have you got for me?” she asked, clearly eager to see the latest discoveries.
William handed over the copies he had made. “Maybe Trixie can explain about finding them.”
As Lisa smiled her approval of the plan, Trixie gave a summary of the find, including a description of the reasoning she had followed in choosing to search there in the first place.
“That’s really interesting.” Lisa had her eyes glued to the copies. “It gives me all kinds of ideas of places to look and things to look for. I think these will be really helpful.”
“There’s one other thing,” William mentioned, with a glance at Trixie. “Ivy sometimes gets confused, as I’m sure I’ve mentioned, and when she does she’s been thinking that Trixie is one of her old friends. I know that Trixie would like to know more about this woman. How would you go about finding out?”
“How much do you know?”
Trixie shrugged and frowned, thinking. “Her maiden name was Edith Townsend. Her husband’s first name was Harold, but I don’t know her married surname. She was from here, but he was from somewhere in New York State. They moved there when they married and I think they lost several babies. Ivy seems to think the only surviving child was a boy called Philip, who had something terribly wrong with him. Edith was the last of Ivy’s friends to leave town. There were two others …” She pulled out the small notebook which was almost filled with scrawled notes. “I think I wrote down their names when she told me this morning … here they are: Millie – or Mildred – Hepplewhite and Ruby Danvers. Once, Ivy thought that someone close to Edith had died recently and at first she thought it was the husband, but then decided that wasn’t right.”
Lisa nodded. “So, you think that Edith was a contemporary of Ivy’s? And Ivy was born in 1917. Let’s have a quick look in the newspapers. I’ve got a subscription to a site that allows you to search old newspapers. I think that might be the easiest place to start.”
She moved over to a nearby table, where a computer was running. A short time later, she had some results. “Look, I think this is them. There’s an article about a wedding in the local paper here, Edith Townsend and Harold Walsh, of Croton-on-Hudson, New York. Mrs. Ruby Monash and Miss Ivy Everett-Cooper attended the bride. Then, there are a series of death notices for the offspring of Mr. and Mrs. H. Walsh in Croton-on-Hudson, all of them for infants. Then, a birth of a son, Philip. I don’t see anything else for a few years … then there’s this one.”
“What happened?” Trixie asked, peering at the screen.
“I always think this sort of thing is sad,” Lisa commented. “Look: on the same page, there’s the birth notice of a daughter, Edith, and a death notice for her mother.”
Trixie’s jaw dropped. “That’s just like Moms said! Maybe it really was my great-grandmother!”
Lisa gave her an inquisitive look and Trixie spilled out the strange theory that her brother had come up with. “We didn’t really think it was possible, but Croton-on-Hudson is close enough to home that I’ve ridden my bike there sometimes. It really could be that she thinks I’m my own great-grandmother!”
A thoughtful look graced Lisa’s face. “I think you’d need a lot more evidence before you could say that was the case and everything you have so far is circumstantial. I admit that it’s a possibility, but Edith was a common name and death in childbirth did happen more than it does now, up until quite recently. It’s quite a common thing to name a daughter after the mother who died in the process of bearing her.”
“At least I can call my mother now and ask whether her mother’s maiden name was Walsh.” Trixie grabbed her notebook and started jotting down names and dates. “If this date of birth matches and the surname matches, that would be enough, wouldn’t it?”
“It’s best to get several sources of information and see if they collaborate each other,” Lisa explained. “It’s a nice working theory, but you need hard evidence, preferably from primary sources – not second- and third-hand information.”
“Evidence is always the tricky part,” Trixie grumbled. “Knowing what happened is much easier than proving it.”
Lisa smiled. “Yes, that’s true. You can’t be sure that you’re right until you have the evidence, though. You might just have jumped to conclusions.”
As she had often been guilty of just that, Trixie only nodded. She finished writing down the information that Lisa had found and thanked her for the effort.
“It’s no problem. You have me curious now, too.” She smiled. “I’m curious, too, about these new things from Ivy’s house. I need to make some changes to my research plan.”
“You have a research plan?” Trixie knew that her surprise showed on her face. “How does that work?”
“Look, here it is.” Lisa switched to a different program. “This is the file that I’m building up on Ivy and her family, with her family tree and all of the information I’ve gathered on her. I have a research plan, which is basically a check list of all the places I want to look for information, and a research log, which records what I found in each location, if anything. That way, I won’t look twice in the same place and I won’t miss looking somewhere obvious. I don’t have to remember where I’ve searched; it’s all recorded here.”
For a moment, Trixie experienced a strong mix of emotions. She felt a longing for the abandoned dream of a detective agency, but also a sense of relief that she would not have to be so methodical in an investigation and its documentation. She loved the thrill of the chase, but the careful noting of facts and research seemed daunting.
“You just made me very glad it’s you doing this part and not me,” she told Lisa, ruefully. “I couldn’t ever be so organised.”
Lisa laughed. “It’s a learned trait, believe me.”
“You’ve learned it very well,” William complimented her. “We’ll get out of your way now. Let me know if you need anything else.”
“I will. Thank you for these; I’m sure we’ll have a result very soon.”
They took their departure and William dropped Trixie back at the house. She tried to call her mother right away, but no one picked up. She left a brief message and hung up, dissatisfied. Turning to her computer, she checked her email and found a few that needed attention. She made a quick reply to Honey, agreeing to the time she had suggested for chat, answered Brian’s enquiry as to her recovery progress and then settled in to mull over a longer missive from Jim.
It appeared that his trip continued to be disastrous, with bad weather, misunderstandings and further transport difficulties a major feature. From his tone, she could tell that he was deeply discouraged and nearing the point where he would cancel the rest and return home. One later paragraph caught her attention and she read it through several times, trying to decide what he meant.
‘I can’t help looking back and wondering where I went wrong. I know I had good intentions, but it hasn’t been enough. Every attempt that I make to set things right only gets me further from where I want to be. When I try to make things better, they get worse. I wish I could go back and start again, but you can’t ever go back.’
She stared at his words, wondering if he was talking about this trip, or about something else. From the context, it appeared to be about the trip, but something about that interpretation did not ring true. Trixie bumped her head gently against the wall and tried to be rational. Her hopes were getting in the way of her common sense.
From outside her room, a noise broke into her thoughts and took them away from Jim. Something about it caused her to feel alarmed and she went out to see what was going on. As she walked towards the front door, she found it open and people in uniforms walking in and out, some of them carrying things. She glanced out the door and saw an ambulance standing there. Turning towards Ivy’s suite, she found Sarah, looking worried.
“What’s happening?” Trixie asked.
Sarah wrung her hands together. “I should have noticed there was something wrong. She shouldn’t have been so different at lunch to what she was at breakfast. I just thought it was the bad dream.”
“Has something happened to Ivy?” She took Sarah’s arm and tried to comfort her.
“She kind of collapsed. They’re not sure what it is, but it might be another stroke. And she hurt herself when she fell. They’re taking her to hospital.” She began to cry. “Why didn’t I notice earlier?”
Trixie did not know what to say, so she put an arm around Sarah and rubbed her shoulder. The paramedics wheeled Ivy past and Trixie suppressed a gasp at how small and pale she looked, and how feeble her struggles as she tried to sit up. Ivy turned her head and there was fear in her eyes.
“Are you going to go with her?” Trixie asked Sarah. “If they let you, can you go and hold her hand? I think she needs someone.”
“Edith!” the elderly voice wheezed. “Please, don’t leave me!”
One paramedic, a young woman, looked at Trixie. “Are you able to accompany her? It might help to calm her down.”
Trixie, in turn, looked at Sarah, who nodded. “Okay. Let me just grab my bag.”
She dashed into her room, picked up her bag and a book to read, then locked the door behind her. As she got outside, they were just loading Ivy inside. The young woman showed her where to sit.
“You’re Edith?” she asked.
“Actually, it’s Trixie. Ivy just thinks that I’m Edith.” She smiled. “If it calms her down to think Edith is here, then I’m willing to pretend that’s who I am.”
“Edith!” Ivy wheezed.
“I’m right here. You’re safe.” Trixie used a loud voice to make sure the old lady could hear her. “Just lie still, Ivy. You’re safe here.”
“I need to tell you something,” Ivy persisted. “There’s something you need to know.”
“It’s okay, Ivy. You don’t need to worry.”
Ivy huffed out a breath. “I am worried. What if someone else finds it? I need to tell you, so you can protect it.”
“What do you want me to protect?” Trixie decided to humour her, since attempts to deflect her were not working.
“Mother’s special hiding place. I found it. I found the things she hid there. Oh, please don’t tell her that I saw it. She would be so angry.”
“I won’t tell her,” Trixie promised. “I’ll make sure that it’s safe, if you just tell me where it is.”
“In the attic,” Ivy whispered, still loud enough that Trixie could clearly hear her. “There’s a secret entrance …”
“In Myrtle’s room? Yes, I know it.”
“No. Not Myrtle’s room. In Mother’s room. Please don’t tell Mother I went into her room. She never allows us to.”
“I won’t. It will be fine, Ivy. Don’t worry about it.”
“It’s a terrible secret … I can’t stand to think about …” Ivy’s voice trailed off into nothing.
Considering some of the secrets she had already uncovered, Trixie was ready to believe anything of Cornelia Everett-Cooper. Even so, she wondered if Ivy was remembering correctly, or if this was some terrible kind of fantasy. She was not sure that Ivy’s word could be trusted, but she also wondered whether this second entrance might access the other side of the wall. A part of her wanted to rush back and begin searching, but she knew that Ivy needed her at that moment.
A short time later, they arrived at the hospital. Trixie stood next to Ivy and held her hand, trying to reassure the old lady, as questions were asked and people bustled around her. William arrived before long and came up to see them.
“What’s happening?” he asked Trixie.
She shrugged. “The nurse has seen her and we’re waiting for the doctor. Sarah thought it might have been another stroke, but we’ll have to wait and see what they say. Ivy asked for me to come with her – at least, for Edith to come with her – and she was so upset that I thought I’d better.”
“Thank you for that,” he answered, warmly. “You seem to have a calming effect on her.”
“She was pretty agitated when I first saw her, and she’s said some strange things. I need to check them out when I get back to the house.”
He smiled. “Even in a crisis, you’re always on the look-out for clues.”
With a shrug, Trixie admitted that was true. “I’ve gotten myself into some sticky situations that way sometimes. Sometimes it’s better to be keeping your mind on what you’re supposed to be doing.”
“I don’t think this is one of those times. There’s no real danger here.” He glanced over at Ivy. “I’ll stay and see what the doctor says. Do you want to go now?”
Trixie considered for a moment. Ivy was now very still, but under the outward calm was a hint of underlying fear.
“No, I think I’ll stay with her. She’s lot more cooperative when she can see me. You wouldn’t think it to look at her now, but she was trying to get away when I first saw her.” She shook her head. “She was wheezing for breath, but still fighting.”
He sighed. “It must be terrible to be so confused. I hope I never end up like that.”
Trixie fervently agreed with him.