Chapter Three

Chapter Three

‘Savannah is a city of squares. There were twenty-four originally, twenty-two remain today.' Catherine opened the gate onto the sidewalk early the next morning, the sun already high and blinding in the sky. ‘Bell House sits on the east side of Lafayette Square. It was built in 1833 by your ancestors, Emma Bell and her husband, Spencer Paul Gordon, both descended from two of the very first families to settle here in 1733.'

I held a hand over my eyes to get a better look at the building, squinting against the brightness. Did I even own sunglasses? I needed them. Bell House was even more impressive in the morning light, shining and stately, all her windows sparkling and spotlessly clean. I felt like a stray dog Catherine had just picked up from the pound by comparison.

‘Today, it is one of the oldest homes in the city to remain a private residence,' my grandmother went on proudly. ‘Most others were destroyed one way or another. The rest were turned into restaurants, hotels or museums.'

‘Our family has lived in the same house for two hundred years?' I was stunned. ‘I've never lived anywhere longer than twelve months.'

Catherine gave me an affectionate nudge as she drew me away from her home.

‘That's about to change. Bell House is part of your legacy, she'll belong to you one day.'

That morning, I had woken up fully refreshed after the best night's sleep since Dad's accident. No nightmares, no panic attacks, no staring at the ceiling wondering what would happen to me now he was gone. Just twelve hours of sweet oblivion. Catherine was right, hot tea before bed really did the trick, it knocked me right out and I didn't stir from the moment I closed my eyes until Ashley knocked on my door to check I was still alive. If she hadn't, I might have still been in that deep, dreamless sleep. I'd hoped we would spend the morning together just the two of us, but as soon as Ashley reported I was awake, Catherine had me up, dressed and out the door for a tour of the neighbourhood. My millions of questions would have to wait. But it didn't matter. As long as I was with her, I was happy. We had the rest of our lives to get to know each other.

‘Your locket is so pretty,' she remarked, holding up a hand in greeting to a man walking his dog on the other side of the street. Everyone seemed to know her and she seemed to know everyone. ‘It is so familiar but I can't quite place it.'

I reached for the necklace, the little gold orb resting against my black T-shirt. ‘It belonged to my mom. I love it but the lock is broken, it doesn't open.'

Catherine brightened with recognition.

‘That's how I know it. What a lovely heirloom for you to remember her by. Angelica really was the most charming woman, she had impeccable style for someone so young. Your mother had gumption.'

‘I'd love to know more about her,' I said, latching on to her every word and storing them safely away. ‘Dad hardly ever talked about her.'

We walked slowly, the quiet between us filled with the everyday sounds of people passing through the square. The town really was beautiful: everywhere you looked there was an explosion of red, pink and purple flowers, elegant townhouses and what seemed like a forest full of trees, picked up and planted in the middle of town. It was easy to imagine you were walking through a fairytale. My father never had anything good to say about his hometown, always complaining it was too hot, too small, too close-minded. If I didn't know for a fact I was actually in Savannah, I never would have guessed it from the things he'd told me. I could hardly believe he was talking about the same place.

‘When my husband passed, it was very hard on me,' Catherine said eventually, speaking slowly as we crossed a one-way street, leaving Lafayette Square behind. ‘He was all I could think of but at the same time, I could not bear to speak his name. Losing your mother was even more difficult for Paul, so young and all alone with a new baby.'

‘Then why leave?' I said. ‘How could an argument be so bad he packed up and never came back?'

An excited troop of Girl Guides crossed our path, two by two, holding hands and swinging their arms back and forth between them as they went. Catherine glanced down at her delicate gold watch and frowned.

‘I wish there was time to explain right now but I'm already late,' she replied, her face etched with regret. ‘I don't know about you but I cannot abide lateness. My dear friend, Virginia Powell, hasn't been well and I promised I would call in on her this morning.'

‘Yes, totally, I'm so sorry.' Guilt sank in my stomach like a stone. Of course she had other things going on, Catherine's entire world hadn't stopped because I'd appeared on the doorstep. ‘I hope she's OK?'

‘Oh, she will be. Virginia always was a fragile little thing, her ailments come and go. I sent over an old family remedy yesterday so I'm hopeful she's feeling fully restored today.' Her smile returned and she brightened at the thought. ‘You know, her family has been here just as long as ours, Ginny and I have known each other all our lives. The Powells and the Bells are Savannah royalty.'

It was a concept I couldn't even begin to comprehend. Imagine having a friend in your life for decades. Even my longest friendships never lasted more than a couple of years. Dad was firmly against social media and it was hard to convince anyone to keep up an old-fashioned pen-pal relationship, moving around the way we did, people seemed to fade out of my life as quickly as they arrived. Catherine slipped her arm through mine as we strolled on and, just like that, all the good mornings meant for her were also extended to me. I felt a flush of pride and pulled my shoulders back, standing a little taller by her side.

‘Now tell me, how do you like Lafayette Square?' she asked, drawing me in closer. ‘I know I'm biased but I do believe we live on the most beautiful square in the city. Many people are partial to Monterey but what can really compare with a cathedral? And I much prefer our fountain to the Pulaski monument.'

‘Pulaski?' I repeated, not familiar with the name.

‘Casimir Pulaski? He was a hero in the revolutionary war.'

I shook my head and she gave a gentle tut.

‘A blindspot in your education that we can surely correct,' she replied. ‘But nothing to worry about. There are so many monuments around town, it will take some time to learn all of them, and they're almost always those absurd phallic things, as if we didn't know.'

We turned a corner onto another gorgeous square, tall houses, tall trees, lots and lots of people. It was like looping through a movie set, the same but different.

‘That's another problem with Monterey Square,' Catherine commented as a group of camera-wielding tourists sprinted in front of us. I watched them race up to a large red-brick house and start snapping away. ‘I do not care for all the ghouls who come to ogle at Jim's house.'

‘What's so special about Jim's house?'

It was big and grand, pretty enough, but very square and not nearly as elegant or impressive as Bell House.

‘The Mercer-Williams house is infamous in Savannah,' she replied, the gleeful promise of gossip in her voice. ‘It was quite the scandal. Jim Williams, the owner, shot a boy named Danny Hansford in the study. Killed him. Jim claimed self-defence but most of us believed it was a crime of passion. That's just my opinion of course, the courts had another.'

There were so many people, all straining to get the best selfie outside the murder house, it made my stomach turn. I'd never been a fan of the creepy or macabre. Horror stories were not my thing.

‘Did you know him?' I asked, watching someone compare a black and white photo on their phone with the house in front of them.

‘Jim? Oh yes.' Catherine nodded readily. ‘We were old friends. He threw the best parties in the county. Until they took him away, that is.'

Her tone was so breezy, I wasn't sure I'd heard her right.

‘There was a very big court case, someone wrote a book about it naturally. They even made a movie. Filmed it right there in the house if you can believe it, so tasteless.' She sighed and shook her head. ‘Jim was acquitted in the end as rich men so often are. But it didn't do him any good, he died of a heart attack just a few months later.'

‘I guess karma doesn't care if you're rich or not,' I said, feeling a little queasy. ‘It gets you in the end.'

My grandmother smirked in agreement. ‘Justice is always served one way or another.'

She pointed towards the downstairs windows on the left side of the house. ‘People say if you pass by Mercer House at the stroke of midnight on the first of May, you'll see Danny's ghost enter the house, looking for Jim.'

‘Sounds like something they made up to bring in the tourists,' I said as I held my locket tightly in my fist. ‘There's no such thing as ghosts.'

‘You're in the wrong town if you believe that,' Catherine replied, laughing at my ashen face. ‘Savannah is one of the most haunted cities in the world. But you needn't worry, Emily. As long as you're with me, you've nothing to fear from the dead or the living.'

‘And if I'm not with you?'

We stopped right in the middle of the street and all the oncoming traffic slowed to a standstill as my grandmother placed her hands on either side of my face, oblivious to the chaos around us.

‘Wherever you are and whomever you are with, always remember this,' she said, green eyes boring into my own. ‘You are a Bell. Nothing and no one can hurt you now.'

And even though I knew she meant to be reassuring, I couldn't help but think her words sounded like a threat.