Aunty Ellie said to him pointedly. ‘She was up there, just like I said. I told you, didn’t I?’
The Beefeater looked at me and frowned. He was more than a little puzzled. ‘Well, I just don’t understand it, lady,’ he protested. ‘I don’t understand it at all. I was up there not five minutes ago and I’m telling you there was no one up there. Hiding under the bed were you? You’re not s’posed to go near that bed. They do that, these kids, sometimes. Got no discipline these days.’
‘I was out on Raleigh’s Walk,’ I said. ‘Down the end.’
‘I never seen you,’ said the Beefeater.
‘Well wherever you were you took a mighty long time about it,’ said Aunty Ellie. ‘Worried me sick, you did. And Winnie has very likely caught a cold waiting out here for you. Most inconsiderate, Bess Throckmorton. I’m surprised at you. Now come along. We’ve to drop Winnie off at her hotel and then we must get back to Devon. I promised your mother I’d have you back home by midnight.’
And so we were. I sat in the front all the way but I could not resist looking over my shoulder into the back seat. Sir Walter Raleigh was there. I could not see him but I knew he was there. Somehow I could feel him, and more than once Aunty Ellie had to open a window. ‘I smell cigarette smoke,’ she said, tutting and shaking her head. ‘Must’ve been Winnie. I never knew she smoked. It clings to the clothes, you know. Filthy habit. Never smoke, Bessy dear, you hear me, never. Can’t think why anyone ever invented the filthy habit.’
Mother noticed it too, as I climbed into bed that night. ‘Better wash your hair tomorrow,’ she said as she kissed me goodnight. ‘It smells of cigarette smoke. ’Spect there were lots of people smoking at the party, were there?’ I nodded. ‘Did you meet anyone interesting?’ Mindful of who was probably listening, I replied: ‘Just one.’
‘Who was he?’
‘He’s called Walter,’ I said. And Mother went out. I heard her talking to Father in the passage outside the bathroom later. ‘She met a friend called Walter,’ she said.
‘Boyfriends already,’ said Father. ‘Funny name, Walter,’ and their bedroom door closed.
‘Are you there, Sir Walter?’ I whispered.
‘I’m here.’ The voice came first, then the cloaked figure appeared sitting in the chair under the mantelpiece where I kept my collection of china owls.
‘Where you going to sleep?’ I asked.
‘Like your owls, ghosts don’t sleep much,’ he said. He leaned heavily on his cane and stood up. ‘Good night, dear cousin, and may God bless you always for your kindness to me. I shall not forget it.’ And he came over to my bed, took my hand and kissed it gently.
‘Goodnight, Sir Walter,’ I said.
‘I am called Walter to my friends and family. You are indeed my family and I trust you will always be my friend.’
‘Yes,’ I said. And my friend Walter walked out through the door and was gone as suddenly as he had come. Downstairs Humph began to bark furiously and to scratch at the back door, and only I knew it wasn’t the fox he was after.
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