THE SEVEN DEATHS OF
EVELYN HARDCASTLE
To my parents, who gave me everything and asked for nothing. My sister, first and fiercest of my readers from the bumblebees onwards. And my wife, whose love, encouragement, and reminders to look up from my keyboard once in a while, made this book so much more than I thought it could be.
CONTENTS
One: Day One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine: Day Two
Ten: Day Three
Eleven: Day Four
Twelve
Thirteen: Day Two (continued)
Fourteen: Day Four (continued)
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One: Day Two (continued)
Twenty-Two: Day Five
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven: Day Two (continued)
Twenty-Eight: Day Five (continued)
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two: Day Six
Thirty-Three: Day Two (continued)
Thirty-Four: Day Six (continued)
Thirty-Five
Thirty-Six
Thirty-Seven
Thirty-Eight
Thirty-Nine: Day Two (continued)
Forty: Day Six (continued)
Forty-One
Forty-Two: Day Two (continued)
Forty-Three: Day Seven
Forty-Four
Forty-Five
Forty-Six
Forty-Seven
Forty-Eight
Forty-Nine
Fifty
Fifty-One
Fifty-Two: Day Three (continued)
Fifty-Three: Day Eight
Fifty-Four
Fifty-Five
Fifty-Six
Fifty-Seven: Day Two (continued)
Fifty-Eight: Day Eight (continued)
Fifty-Nine
Sixty
Acknowledgements
A Note on the Author
You are cordially invited to Blackheath House for
The Masquerade
Introducing your hosts, the Hardcastle family
Lord Peter Hardcastle & Lady Helena Hardcastle
&
Their son, Michael Hardcastle
Their daughter, Evelyn Hardcastle
-Notable Guests-
Edward Dance, Christopher Pettigrew & Philip Sutcliffe, family solicitors
Grace Davies & her brother, Donald Davies, socialites
Commander Clifford Herrington, naval officer (retired)
Millicent Derby & her son, Jonathan Derby, socialites
Daniel Coleridge, professional gambler
Lord Cecil Ravencourt, banker
Jim Rashton, police officer
Dr Richard (Dickie) Acker
Dr Sebastian Bell
Ted Stanwin
-Principal household staff-
The butler, Roger Collins
The cook, Mrs Drudge
First maid, Lucy Harper
Stablemaster, Alf Miller
Artist in residence, Gregory Gold
Lord Ravencourt’s valet, Charles Cunningham
Evelyn Hardcastle’s lady’s maid, Madeline Aubert
We ask all guests to kindly refrain from discussing Thomas Hardcastle and Charlie Carver, as the tragic events surrounding them still grieve the family greatly
1
Day One
I forget everything between footsteps.
‘Anna!’ I finish shouting, snapping my mouth shut in surprise.
My mind has gone blank. I don’t know who Anna is or why I’m calling her name. I don’t even know how I got here. I’m standing in a forest, shielding my eyes from the spitting rain. My heart’s thumping, I reek of sweat and my legs are shaking. I must have been running but I can’t remember why.
‘How did—’ I’m cut short by the sight of my own hands. They’re bony, ugly. A stranger’s hands. I don’t recognise them at all.
Feeling the first touch of panic, I try to recall something else about myself: a family member, my address, age, anything, but nothing’s coming. I don’t even have a name. Every memory I had a few seconds ago is gone.
My throat tightens, breaths coming loud and fast. The forest is spinning, black spots inking my sight.
Be calm.
‘I can’t breathe,’ I gasp, blood roaring in my ears as I sink to the ground, my fingers digging into the dirt.
You can breathe, you just need to calm down.
There’s comfort in this inner voice, cold authority.
Close your eyes, listen to the forest. Collect yourself.
Obeying the voice, I squeeze my eyes shut but all I can hear is my own panicked wheezing. For the longest time it crushes every other sound, but slowly, ever so slowly, I work a hole in my fear, allowing other noises to break through. Raindrops are tapping the leaves, branches rustling overhead. There’s a stream away to my right and crows in the trees, their wings cracking the air as they take flight. Something’s scurrying in the undergrowth, the thump of rabbit feet passing near enough to touch. One by one I knit these new memories together until I’ve got five minutes of past to wrap myself in. It’s enough to staunch the panic, at least for now.
I get to my feet clumsily, surprised by how tall I am, how far from the ground I seem to be. Swaying a little, I wipe the wet leaves from my trousers, noticing for the first time that I’m wearing a dinner jacket, the shirt splattered with mud and red wine. I must have been at a party. My pockets are empty and I don’t have a coat, so I can’t have strayed too far. That’s reassuring.
Judging by the light, it’s morning, so I’ve probably been out here all night. No one gets dressed up to spend an evening alone, which means somebody must know I’m missing by now. Surely, beyond these trees, a house is coming awake in alarm, search parties striking out to find me? My eyes roam the trees, half-expecting to see my friends emerging through the foliage, pats on the back and gentle jokes escorting me back home, but daydreams won’t deliver me from this forest, and I can’t linger here hoping for rescue. I’m shivering, my teeth chattering. I need to start walking, if only to keep warm, but I can’t see anything except trees. There’s no way to know whether I’m moving towards help, or blundering away from it.
At a loss, I return to the last concern of the man I was.
‘Anna!’
Whoever this woman is, she’s clearly the reason I’m out here, but I can’t picture her. Perhaps she’s my wife, or my daughter? Neither feels right, and yet there’s a pull in the name. I can feel it trying to lead my mind somewhere.
‘Anna!’ I shout, more out of desperation than hope.
‘Help me!’ a woman screams back.
I spin, seeking the voice, dizzying myself, glimpsing her between distant trees, a woman in a black dress running for her life. Seconds later, I spot her pursuer crashing through the foliage after her.
‘You there, stop,’ I yell, but my voice is weak and weary; they trample it underfoot.
Shock pins me in place, and the two of them are almost out of sight by the time I give chase, flying after them with a haste I’d never have thought possible from my aching body. Even so, no matter how hard I run, they’re always a little ahead.