When I emerged, it was to the clearest possible sign that Regina had indeed been watching me. She was gone, but in her place Mrs Cronin, the matron, had come and was busily fiddling with the roses on the spray baths in the most unconvincing way.
‘Mrs Gilver,’ she said. ‘You look rather warm.’ Anyone else I should have expected of making fun of me, but Mrs Cronin’s face was set like the marble behind her, her mouth a grim line, her eyes cold stones, her voice a monotone.
‘Nothing a dip won’t see to,’ I said. I strode through to the pool, wrenched off my robe and then my courage deserted me. I could not, simply could not, jump in again, not now I knew how bad it would be in there. I walked along to the steps and started down them gingerly. I was out of view of Mrs Cronin but the locked door lay dead ahead of me. Blessing my cowardice, I realised that if a ghost really did come floating through the keyhole, I should see it as plain as day and so I could ‘see’ one as soon as I cared to, before I was in beyond my knees.
My plan went awry in a way I really should have foreseen. Cringing on the steps, staring at the door, I essayed a little start of surprise, in case Mrs Cronin was peeping at me through one of the Turkish archways. My feet were numb, the steps were slippery, in short, I overbalanced and not only ended up completely submerged in the icy sulphurous depths again but this time I cracked my back on the edge of a stone step too. When I rose spluttering, Mrs Cronin was standing looking down at me, her eyes colder and harder than ever.
‘Did you see that?’ I said.
‘You slipped, madam?’
‘I nearly broke my neck!’ I said. I was dog-paddling back to the steps.
‘There is a handrail,’ Mrs Cronin said, just as I reached out for it to haul myself up.
‘You didn’t see?’ I asked again. I was out now and sprinting along the side of the pool to the door.
‘Here,’ she called after me. ‘Where are you going?’
I tried the handle and found it locked as I had expected to. Then I whipped round and scanned the room. ‘Does… steam escape from in there?’ I said. ‘I suppose it might have been steam.’
‘What do you mean?’ said Mrs Cronin.
‘I could have sworn I saw someone coming out of there,’ I said. ‘But the door didn’t open.’
‘Steam, as you say,’ Mrs Cronin said. ‘And you were overheated. Your eyes might have misted over.’
‘And what about my ears?’ I demanded. It was only then when I put my hands on my hips to make my point with more force that I realised I was having this conversation quite without clothes. Mrs Cronin was no doubt used to such things, but not I. I faltered, turned away and snatched up my robe.
‘How do you mean, madam?’ the matron asked me. ‘Did you hear something?’
‘She spoke to me,’ I said. ‘She said she had a message for her daughter and her son. And she said she was cold.’ Mrs Cronin’s eyes were not hard little pebbles now. They looked enormous in her white face.
‘Her daughter and her son?’
‘Who was it?’ I said. ‘You know, don’t you?’
‘It can’t be,’ said Mrs Cronin.
‘Who?’ I said, opening my eyes very wide.
‘No one,’ she said. ‘Regina told me you’d been asking about her. That’s what’s put it in my mind. Nothing else.’
‘Mrs Addie?’ I asked.
Mrs Cronin’s eyes flashed with panic and her face drained of yet more colour until it was grey and wretched. She turned, slipping a little on the wet floor, and blundered away.
I belted my robe and made my exit calmly. Regina was waiting for me by the cubicles. She held out her hand to give me something and when I caught it I was astonished and, frankly, offended to see that it was my two shillings back again.
‘I’ll not be bought, madam,’ she said. ‘I work for Dr Laidlaw and I’m proud to say so.’
‘I have no idea what you mean, Regina,’ I said. ‘I certainly didn’t mean to imply anything beyond a tip. But I shall tell Dr Laidlaw what a loyal servant she has in you when I see her. And I shall be seeing her very soon. I have just had an extraordinary experience in the plunging-pool room, one I need to discuss with Dr Laidlaw right away.’
‘She’s very busy,’ Regina said.
‘Unless you would like to tell me what’s behind that locked door.’
‘How did you-’ she said. ‘What locked door?’
‘And why Mrs Cronin guessed right first time who might be in there.’
‘Is she?’ Regina turned as if she could see into the room. ‘She sometimes goes in there to cry.’ Perhaps it was the after-effects of the cold plunge but to hear this said so matter-of-factly made me shiver.
‘Have you seen her?’ I asked. This was quite at odds with Regina’s robust denials of all ghostliness the day before.
‘I told you,’ Regina said. ‘I work for her, not you.’
It took me a moment to understand what she was saying.
‘Wait a minute,’ I said. ‘You thought I meant Dr Laidlaw was in there?’ She frowned, as confused as I was. ‘I meant Mrs Addie,’ I explained. ‘Her ghost, trapped in that room, behind the locked door.’
Regina was made of stern stuff and she did not pale or tremble, but only grew very still while she composed her reply.
‘There’s no such thing as ghosts,’ she said at last.
‘You might be in the minority at the Hydro these days,’ I said, ‘holding hard to that view.’
9
It was not difficult to account for the loyalty of Mrs Cronin and young Regina when I entered the doctor’s study moments later in response to her low ‘Come in’. She looked like a child who had been sent to sit in a grown-ups’ toyless room and wait for its punishment there. Her head shrank down between her shoulders when she saw that it was me.
‘Mrs Gilver,’ she said, managing a faint smile which did not quite banish the troubled look behind it. ‘I’ve just had a very pleasant talk with one of your neighbours. Did you know he was here? A Mr Osborne of Perthshire.’
A dozen quick thoughts chased one another around my head like little fish. I did not know whether to admit to knowing Alec or to deny it. Had he claimed acquaintance of me? In spite of our agreement, had he gone ahead for some reason and told the tale of the visiting ghost instead of leaving it to me? If he had, then his handling of Mrs Bowie yesterday paled into oblivion beside this, for Dr Laidlaw had a soft look in her eye when she spoke his name. Thankfully, she wanted the pleasure of saying it again and she went on, not noticing that I had not answered.
‘Mr Osborne is very interested in my work here. Rather unusual.’ She lifted a hand to her throat and moved the locket on a chain which sat there. ‘I’m hardly ever lucky enough to have a willing audience these days,’ she said. ‘Since my dear father died. And even he… well, we disagreed. Profoundly. Which made for interesting exchanges but I rarely got the chance simply to air my ideas and see what I thought of them.’
Bravo, Alec, I thought to myself, understanding now what he had been up to. Quite simply, he had softened the doctor up for me.
‘Yes, he is a pleasant young chap, isn’t he?’ I said. ‘I’ve often thought so when we’ve run into one another at parties.’ That was a nicely judged compromise between an implausible lack of acquaintance – Perthshire is not so populous as all that – and the sort of intimate friendship which would have to be explained. ‘Well, I hope you don’t mind a second interruption of your morning’s work, Dr Laidlaw, but I have a matter of great urgency to discuss with you.’