TALES FROM MORTIFER HOUSE - Part Seven - The Asylum Visit

 

Once Eleanor knew she had to visit Florence she was increasingly frustrated that Angus seemed to be in all the time after her 'message from the other side' meaning she was unable to get back into the study. She needed to find the paperwork to gain access to visit Florence even if that meant forging her husbands signature. 

It was a good month before Eleanor was able to take advantage of Angus paying a visit to relatives in London, with him out of the way she would have free access to his study and hopefully time to visit Florence also. 

The minute she had waved the carriage off the driveway she was up the stairs and looking through the papers in his desk.  She eventually found a letter from the previous Christmas drafted to the asylum requesting a visit to Florence.  She could forge his signature fairly easily of that she was sure. She could lift the wording from this letter and change the date to suit and make out that Angus would send her in his absence. Luckily there was a reply from the asylum laying out general rules, so she would know what to expect. 

Visits were to be conducted for no more than two hours, if the patient became distressed or violent the visiting right would be terminated immediately and no further visit would be permitted for six months. All visitors were to be accompanied to the patient and would be observed via a glass panel in the next room. This measure was to protect both patient and visitor. No bags, glass or sharp objects were permitted in the visiting zone and visitors must agree to a basic search of their clothing being conducted. 

Eleanor really didn't know if the visit would be fruitful, she knew Florence was elderly, probably heavily medicated and possibly confused but she had to give it a try. After all she had been guided to make this visit by whatever 'force' was in this house and she felt honour bound to at least make the journey even if it was a waste of time. 

As she sat in Angus's creaky desk chair drafting the letter, the smell of pipe tobacco wafting up to greet her, she pondered as to why Florence had even been committed in the first place. It certainly didn't give any details on any of the paperwork and it didn't seem she was a particular threat, especially given her age. Eleanor knew very little of Florence, she had by all accounts, been committed to Moreton Grange Asylum at least 45 years previously when Angus was still a boy. 

It was sad to think of her being locked away for such a large part of her life, she must have only been in her thirties when she had been institutionalised. She had spent more than half her life incarcerated in Moreton Grange and she would surely spend her last years there too. 

Once the letter sent, all Eleanor had to do was wait anxiously to see if permission for the visit was granted. She had deliberately chosen dates she knew Angus was away on business, it would be so much easier to go without having to explain her absence. Her only worry were the children, but she had received a letter that morning from Rebbeca De Mortyfer who was planning to visit from France,which seemed to be uncannily perfect timing.

In fact as Eleanor read the letter she actually said out loud to the house "Did you engineer that one?" The resounding silence did nothing to assure her it wasn't somehow in the lap of the house spirits. 

Eleanor liked Rebbeca, she was one of the few 'fun' distant relatives of the Mortifer clan that visited. She was a little bit exotic, with her French accent and always brought thoughtful and  exciting gifts for everyone. The children loved her and even Angus cracked a smile when she was around, she was like a breath of fresh air. 

Rebbeca being present would mean Eleanor could slip out of the house for a few hours safe in the knowledge that the children would be well cared for. She just hoped that nothing spooky would occur while she was gone, although she doubted it, after all she would be out doing exactly what she had been told to do .

She pushed to the back of her mind that it could all be a trick so that the children could be 'got at' while she was away. Just the thought of Rebbeca being at Mortifer reassured her that surely the time would pass uneventfully.

The letter from the asylum thudded onto the doormat just a few days later eagerly scooped up and held aloft by an excited Alice. She thought every letter that came was for her for at least six months after her birthday. 

"I think that is mine!" declared Eleanor extracting the letter from an exuberant Alice's fingers. "Now go and play quietly in your room please" 

Alice obediently skipped up the stairs two at a time calling out to Grace as she went.  Once she was out of sight Eleanor nervously tore open the envelope and unfolded the hand written letter from Moreton Grange. She smoothed it with her hand and went to the window for better reading light. 

She immediately breathed a sigh of relief, permission to visit was granted. Her fears of refusal allayed she noticed with equal relief that the date was for a weeks time, two days after Rebbeca was due to arrive and right when Angus was away. The Gods, or whatever, were clearly on her side and everything was aligned perfectly. 

With the visit on the cards Eleanor went about sourcing a carriage to take her on the 3 mile journey to the asylum and then busied herself preparing for when Rebbeca arrived. The worst thing about having visitors was the lack of bedroom space. Sometimes with advance notice it was possible to have guests accommodated in a boarding house down the road but less than a week would not be enough time to make arrangements. Once the girls were grown and left home there was the possibility to divide the nursery area into two guest bedrooms but for now Rebbeca would have to have Grace's bed and Grace would have a camp bed. The room was plenty big enough. It was more than a little frustrating that the left side of the attic had once been a small guest room but after a roof collapse many years ago, long before Eleanor had arrived on the scene it had been rendered unusable.   Subsequent damage to the structure due to damp meant it had been blocked off and boarded up even though the roof was repaired.  For some time Eleanor had questioned Angus about the possibility of  making it useable again but he was always too busy to even entertain the idea, saying it would be too costly.  

Eleanor would have to, as usual, make do. She was already a little embarrassed about the general state of disrepair in the house but she knew Rebbeca came to see them not the house. Rebbeca also understood that Eleanor had to do everything herself not having a housekeeper so if the rooms were tired it could be forgiven. The welcome would be warm and sincere at the very least.    

The next few days flew by and the girls and Eleanor were soon eagerly anticipating their guest. Eleanor paced anxiously plumping cushions in the drawing room whilst the girls sat in their nursery window faces pressed against the glass watching for the arriving carriage. 

Suddenly there were shrieks from upstairs and the girls came flying down the stairs with a clatter. Eleanor smiled as she peeked out of the window to see the carriage coming up the driveway. She suddenly felt sick, what if she could see awful things in Rebbeca's future? She prayed that it would be like her own family, it seemed she couldn't see anything for them, she hoped, sincerely hoped, that somehow she had the ability to block those thoughts for those she was closest to. 

The girls were hanging off Rebbeca as she wrapped an arm around each of them scooping them in for a hug.

Eleanor hung back slightly but it turned out she need not have worried for even on hugging Rebbeca close Eleanor could read nothing thankfully. 

"Ca alors Eleanor! steady on, you will take my breath" Exclaimed Rebbeca as Eleanor squeezed her a little too tightly, partly from relief. With that, she pushed back a little to study Eleanor's face, she could see the tears forming in her eyes and raised an eyebrow. 

"You are well?" She continued to study Eleanor, concerned. 

Eleanor blinked back the tears, nodded and smiled  " Perfectly fine thank you but you have no idea how glad I am to see you!" 

With the carriage gone and Rebbeca's things safely installed in the attic room, Eleanor busied herself in the kitchen to make tea for her guest. She could hear the the delighted gasps of the girls upstairs in the drawing room as they unpacked carefully wrapped packages, a china doll for Alice and a silk lace edged handkerchief and some tiny bottles of perfume for Grace. 

Rebbeca had also thoughtfully brought some fine Parisian chocolates for Eleanor and Angus which she presented once the girls had disappeared back up to their room. 

The two women sat and chatted whilst taking their tea, Rebbeca had a perfect grasp of English thanks to her Scottish housekeeper and nanny. She only occasionally had to pause to think of the right word and just sometimes a French word would slip in in place of the correct English word.  It was so nice to just feel normal, Eleanor found herself almost forgetting the issues in the house until thoughts of the asylum came to her. 

Eleanor leaned forward in her chair after placing her empty tea cup down. She cleared her throat and looked at Rebbeca sitting opposite her. 

"Would you be able to have the girls for me for a few hours the day after tomorrow?"

Rebbeca nodded earnestly and leant forward and grasped Eleanor's hand "Of course my dear! It would be my pleasure. They are a delight"  She was too polite to ask why, she could sense Eleanor was on edge. 

Eleanor glanced around the room, she drew a deep breath and let out a sigh. She couldn't possibly tell the full story, Rebbeca would think her quite mad plus she would probably demand to leave immediately if she thought ghosts were involved. 

"I'm going to Moreton Grange asylum, I am visiting Florence Mortifer. But that is  in confidence between us, Angus has no idea. I'm afraid I cant explain why just now" 

Rebbeca looked quizzical as she thought for a moment. "Florence, Florence Mortifer, ohhh, FLORENCE. That beautiful girl in the portrait gallery on the stairway?!" 

Eleanor shifted in her seat "Well, yes, that Florence. Except she is now elderly and I have no idea if she will even know who I am, let alone what day of the week it is! I believe she has been institutionalised for many years, since her thirties I have heard said."

"Do you know why?" asked Rebbeca, her brow was furrowed in concerned surprise.

"No, I have absolutely no idea!" Eleanor said shaking her head sadly. "It is possible I will find out, but I really don't know" 

Rebbeca suppressed a yawn with her hand and Eleanor jumped to her feet. " I am so sorry, you must be so tired after your journey. Please forgive me I feel like a very bad hostess! Please do go ahead and rest. We will talk again tomorrow, time has run away with us this evening!" 

  Eleanor took the teacup and saucer from Rebbeca and walked out into the hall with her. Together the stood and looked at the portraits staring back at them. 

"So many strong, beautiful Mortifer women!" Remarked Eleanor as she scanned the wall. 

"And the ones that married into the Mortifer family!  I mean look at Emma and you!" said Rebbeca as Eleanor blushed at the compliment. 

"Well, thank you, I cannot say that about myself however! But the men, what happened there? They are a bunch of ne'er do wells and yes, sadly I do include Angus in that."

Eleanor cast her eyes over the pictures and continued "Charles was by all accounts a philanderer, when he wasn't drunk or asleep. Then one day he just ups and vanishes!"  I can see those traits in Angus every single day, well apart from the vanishing, Eleanor thought to herself. Secretly she wished he would disappear sometimes as awful as that made her feel.

Rebbeca nodded sagely, she knew of the stories of Charles. They were many and varying in degrees of good and bad.

The thought of the journal stopped Eleanor in her tracks, maybe she would garner the truth of his disappearance if only she could crack the code. She had half a mind to show Rebbeca, but it was late and it would be rude to deny her guest her sleep. 

"Good night sweet Rebbeca" said Eleanor as she handed her a lamp and watched the girl ascend the attic stairs. It was truly lovely to have some adult company. 

The next day passed in a flash, there was much needed laughter, heart to hearts and copious cups of tea in the drawing room. Before she knew it Eleanor was anxiously awaiting her carriage to the asylum. 

She watched as the horses pulled up on the driveway, took a deep breath and opened the front door. Eleanor hugged Rebbeca and her girls tightly, fearing irrationally that she might never see them again. 

Her jawline tensed as they waved her off and she began her journey into the unknown. She had in her bag the journal page in the hopes that perhaps Florence could help with the code. As a last minute thought she had also taken the photograph of the unknown woman and children. Any clues she could get from Florence however small, might just get her some answers. 

The carriage was insufferably hot and Eleanor was glad when at last they pulled up to Moreton Grange and she stepped down into the fresh air. Not that there was any breeze, it was quite humid and the sky threatened yet another storm. There had been so many storms lately and as she ascended the steps to the heavy front door there was a crack of thunder in the distance and a drop of rain splashed her face. 

At the door an attendant greeted her and ushered into the hall. Down the dimly lit right hand corridor with its peeling paint and cobwebbed ceilings Eleanor could hear desperate screams and wails. "God have mercy I am a sinner" said one voice repeatedly, growing louder and more anguished as they continued.  The sounds would haunt her to her dying day, she was sure of that. That and the smell of cabbage, carbolic soap and disinfectant.

She turned nervously as if to walk towards that voice, towards the unending screams and it seemed impending doom.The attendant put a gentle but firm hand on her arm. 

He shook his head. "Not that way Miss, that way's the paupers area, follow me"

Down the left hand corridor it was slightly better. But not much. Confinement rooms with locks and tiny barred windows one of which the door was open. Inside there was a wooden table with arm and leg restraints. A sheet covered the table and there were clearly bloodstains on it.  A locked wall cabinet held bottles of liquid and drugs and syringes with huge needles. Eleanor tried to look away but her brain took in every last detail whether she wanted to or not. She was convinced she would have nightmares later tonight. 

Just off the corridor there was a tiny room where she was briefed about the visit and her bag was taken from her. She managed to extract the photo and the coded page and was allowed to take that only to Florence's room.  After being subjected to a search of clothing by one of the nurses she was allowed to proceed. 

Escorted further into the building Eleanor realised that the 'guests' on this side were paying for the privilege of being locked up eternally. Things, although austere were much more relaxed she saw women playing card games and doing basic crafts like sewing in a day room. There were of course, no men. They were held separately in another wing of the asylum.  Some of the occupants stared aimlessly into space and some approached her, curious as to who this stranger might be. From nowhere attendants appeared and blocked their path, keeping distance between them and Eleanor.

At last it seemed they had arrived at Florence's room and the attendant unlocked the door. He pulled back a heavy curtain in the wall "I will be observing from here" he said indicating towards the glass panel he had uncovered.  

Eleanor nodded to show she understood, her nerves were at fever pitch and her hands were uncommonly sweaty.

The attendant pushed open the door  and stood to one side "You have a maximum of two hours. Less if there are any signs of distress from Miss Mortifer." 

"Good luck, she's a little unresponsive at times and somewhat confused. If you need me to intervene at any point, just wave" he added a little brusquely. 

"Oh, and my name is Edward" she heard him say as he pulled the door closed behind her. 

The room was a reasonable size with a bed, armoire, dresser and wash stand. There were pictures of landscapes upon the walls and pretty but faded pink flowered curtains at the picture windows which of course had bars on them. 

There was a handmade patchwork quilt upon the bed, it too was faded but looked freshly washed. The sheets were slightly off white cotton and a little threadbare as were the pillow cases, but looked clean enough.  Eleanor was relieved to see some personal items at least, photographs of family, which she did not recognise, a couple of small dog ornaments, a mantle clock and books, lots of books and a small lamp.These items were all on the dresser and there was not a lot else in the room apart from a couple of high backed chairs presumably for visitors. 

The room was fairly dark, the impending storm still rumbled on in the distance. Florence was seated in a wheelchair next to the window her head slumped forward, she was clearly asleep. A book of poems was open on her lap and a glass of water was on a table next to her. 

Eleanor approached Florence quietly, not wanting to startle her and gently touched her hand.  There was no response. She looked out of the window noticing that there was a good view of a few of the patients tending the extensive gardens. If she didn't know differently it would have seemed she was visiting friends at a country estate. Fat drops of rain burst from the clouds and a streak of lightning lit up the sky followed by a loud clap of thunder sending the patients scurrying for cover holding their hands over their ears. The rain hammered against the window pane and trailed downwards in rivulets.

She was glad she had brought her hat and shawl, even though a few hours previously she had felt ridiculously overdressed given the heat in the carriage. 

"Who are you?!" Demanded a voice behind her, Eleanor swung round to see Florence very much awake and eyeing her suspiciously over her glasses. 

The first thing that struck Eleanor was that you could tell the grace and beauty that Florence had clearly had in her youth. Yes, the face was older, more troubled, told of a lifetime of anxiety, but the eyes, the eyes were the same as that portrait in the house. Beautiful, grey/green and clear as day.  

"Miss Mortifer, I am so sorry to startle you!" Eleanor removed her hat and reached to pull up a chair beside the glaring woman. She placed the photo and journal page under the hat on the floor.

" My name is Eleanor Mortifer, I am Angus Mortifer's wife" she added by way of introduction. 

"Eleanor?" said Florence looking confused. It was clear Angus did not mention her much and that struck her harder than she realised it would. 

"Yes, Eleanor. I am the mother of Victoria, Flora, Amelia, Grace and Alice, I don't know if Angus has mentioned them?" she continued as she took a seat. 

There was silence for a minute, only broken by yet more thunder and rain rattling against the tall windows. 

Florence winced as a flash of lightning lit up the darkened room.  If Angus had mentioned either her or the children it was clear that it hadn't meant a great deal, as she continued to look blank.

" Such a storm!" she remarked as she shifted slightly uncomfortably in her wheelchair. "Would you like tea?" 

Eleanor hesitated, she could see no facilities to make tea. Florence noticed her glancing around the room. 

"Its 4 o 'clock. Tea always arrives around now"  Sure enough, right on queue, there was a tap at the door and a tray arrived with two cups of tea, no pot. The tea was lukewarm, hot water was banned of course.

Florence caught the look on Eleanor's face as she politely sipped the tea.

"I know" she said, as she downed hers " Meal times are worse, trust me. Food cut up for you, no knives permitted. Utter slop mostly!"

Eleanor felt sad. She felt sad for Florence's loss of freedom and confused as to why she was even here. She seemed rational enough even at her advanced age.

The elderly lady was fading, her eyes were closing again, the teacup leaned at a precarious angle so Eleanor took it from her hands and placed it on the table as quietly as she could.

Florence came to and looked Eleanor squarely in the face with questioning eyes.

 " Why are you here instead of Charles?" 

"Angus" Eleanor correctly gently, as Florence shook her head annoyed at her own mistake. "Well, Angus is away on business and couldn't make it" she lied feeling herself colouring up.

Florence threw her a piercing gaze "If he's anything like Charles, the word business is a loose one indeed!" 

Eleanor looked down at her hands, she didn't know what to say to that! She decided she had to seize the moment and ask her what she had actually come to ask her. 

She waited for yet another crack of thunder to pass so that Florence could hear her.

"Miss Mortifer..." she began only to immediately be interrupted by Florence. " My dear girl, call me Florence, after all we are family are we not?" 

Eleanor smiled. " Florence, can I show you something. A photograph. I wonder if you know who the people are in it. I found it in a drawer at Mortifer House" 

She reached under her hat and passed the photograph to Florence who peered at it adjusting her glasses. 

"Fetch me the lamp, Emma" the light is poor. Another name slip up. Eleanor didn't correct her this time and brought the one solitary lamp across to the little table. 

Florence stared at the photo, as she held it, her brow furrowed. 

"It's fine Florence, I didn't truly expect you to remember or even know who it is." said Eleanor as she went to take the picture back.

"I do know..." she said holding it firmly. "This is .." she stared upwards at the ceiling. Lightning lit the sky, reflected in her glasses as she paused, fingers on her chin. " Its Elizabeth, Elizabeth Arden and her children, wait a moment, oh why does it escape me?" She let out an exasperated sigh these days she could barely remember her own name, let alone someone from over 30 years ago. 

 Eleanor was more than happy to hear a name at least. "It truly does not matter Florence, it really doesn't" she patted her hand gently to reassure her. 

  "James and Sarah, the twins! How could I forget!" Florence shouted as she held the photo aloft triumphantly. 

There was a bang on the observation window. Edward was shaking his head at Eleanor. She tried to gently calm Florence. She didn't want to be removed now she was finally getting somewhere! 

"Where did they fit into the household?" asked Eleanor eager to to try and see if there was any relevance. 

" I'm sorry... I can't recall" Florence said after thinking for several minutes. She looked distraught.

"Do you know why you are here Florence?" asked Eleanor quietly taking Florence's hand.

Again, silence. Given it was over 40 years since she had first set foot in Moreton Grange and all the days were the same, year in, year out, it was hardly surprising. 

"Never mind dear Florence, I have one more question for you then I will leave you in peace"  Eleanor reached for the journal page and placed it in the light.

"Do you by chance, know anything about this code? I need help to decipher it!" 

Florence studied the page. "Where did you find this?" she asked almost sharply.

"I found it at the house. I believe I have a journal filled with the same code. I thought it would be fun to work out what was said" Eleanor said light heartedly. Florence sat upright and breathed in slowly. "It's pigpen code" she said confidently. "Bring me a pen from the dresser, I think I can draw a grid for you so you can work it out" 

Eleanor was elated. She quickly rose and found an ink pen in the drawer and a bottle of ink.In shaky hand Florence was able to make the grid on a scrap of paper she had marking a place in her book. Each dot or line corresponded to a letter. The excitement was rising in Eleanor, right now she could barely conceal her joy that she might finally discover the truth of the journal. She felt sure answers were contained within. 

"See?" said Florence, as she started to write letters underneath the coded words. Suddenly she stopped and became very pale. "Stitchy." she spoke the name in a whisper as the paper grid and the journal page slipped from her grasp. The old woman slumped forward and slowly rocked back and forth.

There was a loud bang as the door to the room was flung open and Edward was a few strides from Eleanor in seconds. "I think its time you left" he said firmly as he grasped her arm.

Eleanor just had time to swoop on the paper on the floor and grab her hat before she was propelled towards the open door. She protested loudly, she could see Florence was visibly upset, she didn't want to leave her like this. 

She watched helplessly as tears snaked down Florence's face. "I'm so sorry! Please forgive me Florence!"  She turned as she was being pushed from the room, "Did you know Stitchy?" she asked, trying to shake off Edwards vice like grip without success.

Florence spoke barely above a whisper but Eleanor heard what she said just as the door was closing behind her. "He had a name... his name was Ash" 

Eleanor soon found herself in the front entrance porch of Moreton Grange, the door behind her closed swiftly and she heard it being locked. She had been told in no uncertain terms as her bag was returned to her, that all future visits would be revoked until after Christmas. 

The sky was so dark it was like night, the thunder still continued and the ground was soaked from the rain. The air was still oppressive and heavy as she made her way down the steps to the waiting carriage. The horses twitched nervously as each lightning flash and thunderclap arrived, the driver reached to calm them as best he could. 

As they pulled away from the asylum, Eleanor realised she had more questions than answers. She studied the grid Florence had carefully done for her, she did at least have that. She looked at the sheet of journal paper and the letters transcribed underneath the code. 

'It is with regret that Stitchy...' was all that was written. She would have to resist the urge to do the entire last page, she would have to be methodical and start at the beginning for fear of missing something vital. 

The carriage rounded the corner and Eleanor gazed back down the driveway at Moreton Grange, flickering lights burned brightly in most of the windows. It looked chilling against the backdrop of ominous clouds, which made the birds head for home as if it were night already. 

Sorrow filled Eleanor's heart as she thought Florence's tears. How did Florence know Stitchy? Why had she been locked away when she seemed perfectly sane? A little muddled certainly, but she was elderly and God knew what medication they filled her with. 

Who was Elizabeth Arden? How did she fit into the Mortifer story?  Were all the answers in the coded side of the journal? Would she ever be able to restore peace within the walls of Mortifer House?

She closed her eyes briefly. The heat of the carriage, even with the windows down made her sleepy and before she knew it they were almost home as she had slept most of the way. 

As they pulled up to the house Eleanor was alarmed to see Rebbeca, white faced and clutching the girls to her standing in the doorway- all three of them were crying.

The horses had barely come to a halt before Eleanor leapt down from the carriage onto the drive and ran to them. 

Something bad had happened while she had been gone … she just knew it. 

Sarah Russell 2022