The Bedford Tea Room

The sound of the mighty Atlantic Ocean roared past chattering cross-paned windows of the Bedford Tea Room. Wind gusts blustered violently for most of the morning. Soon, the first patrons would be dropping by for afternoon tea and freshly baked scones. Stormy days were always good for business and kept the staff busy. The Bedford Tea Room was a renovated three-story Victorian home that Robert and Sandra Marshall purchased when Wall Street tanked in 2008 and their savings were nearly wiped out. Both lost their jobs as financial consultants. They sold their lovely Cape Cod in the Hamptons, though not even close to the price they originally paid for it. Times were bad, but the Marshalls were determined to take their lemons and make lemonade. Or...more appropriately, slice them into wedges and open a tea room...Sandra's dream since childhood. Bedford House, as it was always known, was owned by a wealthy shipping magnate, Cyrus Bedford, of some industry renown during the late 1800s. As always, his money ran out due to some unscrupulous business transactions. He died, leaving Bedford House to his wife, Vanessa Morton Bedford. The poor woman never managed money in her life. From what little Joseph left behind, Coraline managed to scrape by until she realized she was losing the battle to keep Bedford Houe in the style her husband once had done. Bedford House was quite a beautiful place location-wise set high up on a coastal bluff with the ocean virtually in their backyard. It was graced by a wrap-around teak veranda and there were three bedrooms in curved turrets that overlooked a wide expanse of grassy lawn. At first glance, it could easily be mistaken for an Austrian castle with its distinguishing slate grey roof tiles with a widow's walk just beneath. The slatted grey cedar shingles and burgundy shutters completed the design of the exterior perfectly. That was what caught the Marshalls eyes. "It has such character!" Sandra told Robert. "It probably needs a lot of interior renovation. Probably more than we can comfortably afford is my guess," Robert said "Oh please! Robert! Can we find the real estate agent and find out if it is on the market?" Robert Marshal knew when his wife of ten years had a bee in her bonnet, it wasn't wise to get stung. They found Bedford Real Estate relatively quickly. It was three blocks from Bedford House. Talia DeSimone of Bedford Real Estate noticed a couple approaching her desk. Clearly they were not New Englanders.
"Can you tell us if Bedford House in on the market?" Sandra asked. "Actually, it's been on the market for quite some time. As you probably noticed, it needs a lot of renovation. Would you like to have a look at it?" Talia asked. Sandra shot Robert a pleading glance. He nodded silently in assent. "Yes, we would love that," Sandra said. The trio drove to Wyecliff Avenue which rambled from Barnstable Street, the town's main thoroughfare. Wyecliff Avenue began with several homes at the top of the avenue. Then,there was a marked decline in the number of homea as they neared Bedford House. "Many of the original property owners subdivided here. The last two homes are all that are left of Bedford's Golden Age," Talia said. She pointed to a large three-story Victorian in the Salt Box design so familiar in this part of New England.
"That's Deverough House. Thomas Deverough, great grandson of the original owner still lives in that home. It's about two hundred year old and has been listed as "historic," as most of the oldest Bedford homes are," Talia added. "Here we are...Bedford House," Talia announced. "Why is this one called "Bedford House?" Sandra asked. "According to historical documents, the original owner was Cyrus Bedford, a fifth generation relative of the town's earliest settlers to the new world colony. Although Bedford House was not built until 1851, the land upon which the house sits belonged to a Bedford. Old Cyrus was involved in major shipping and trade in those days. There was big money in Bedford shipping back then," Talia said. "So how did this beautiful place fall into disrepair," Robert asked. "When Cyrus died, everything in his estate including Bedford land was left to his wife Vanessa. Victorian ladies of that era had no experience managing money or even the household by themselves. Everything was done for them by servants. Vanessa Bedford had no resources to fall back on and no knowledge of finances. They had two sons, Charles, who relied solely on his inheritance for his support and Jeremiah, who built quite a reputation gambling away his inheritance. It was also said Vanessa coddled her sons into financial ruin," Talia said. "I've always wanted to own a tea room," Sandra said "Why...That's such a lovely idea. It's the one business Bedford is without," Talia responded. "If you are interested in Bedford House, come back to my office and we'll go over the details," Talia added. That was three years ago. The Marshalls sunk most of their remaining savings into renovations. The exterior, thakfully, needed little in the way of refurbishment, save a fresh coat of paint. Houses in Bedford were painted according to town code. But, Sandra wanted their Tea Room to stand out since it was to be a business as well as their home. This required a special town permit to paint the exterior salmon pink and the shutters, gables and gingerbread designs deep hunter green. Town locals were aghast at the idea. Thus, the Marshalls permit was rejected and salmon pink became the original dull, greyish-blue. A muted burgundy replaced the deep hunter green elsewhere. The interior required extensive plumbing, heating and electrical upgrading, not to mention complete renovation of the kitchen and an addition of two bathrooms. Robert and Sandra worried worried their money would run out as it had for Vanessa Bedford, before they even got their new tea room enterprise off the ground When spring came and new awnings were installed, the brand new sign out in front of the heavy, black wrought iron gate announced, "Open for Business. Sandra painstakingly prepared several interchangeable menus. Afternoon tea began at noon. High tea at four. She rifled through cookbooks in the library and online for recipes for biscuits, scones and classic English crumpets and clotted cream. She began haunting garage sales and estate sales for teapots and tea services. She amassed quite a collection over the past winter before opening day. Those she found that were more delicate and rare, she used for decoration on the quaint oak cupboard at the entrance, figuring if the tea room failed, those rare rare tea services were a good investment and could be auctioned. After one year, the "Bedford Tea Room" had regular patrons and was finally beginning to see a profit. Thomas Deverough was appalled that Bedford Planning and Zoning allowed a regular business to operate so near his estate. When first he heard Bedford House was sold, he assumed it was sold to upscale people with a Mayflower Pedigree. Deverough was as Mayflower as it could get. His family settled in Bedford and established the first iron works. His great uncle, Alfred Deverough, was a member of the Revolutionary War Brigade. Thomas stared out the first floor window and grizzled at the increased traffic of patrons of Bedford House. "I'm telling you. This is wrong! To put up a business right in my backyard? Disgraceful!" "Mina, call my solicitor. I will get rid of these interlopers!" he commanded his housekeeper. "Yes, Sir." Mina answered. She deposited an antique silver tray onto his lamp table for afternoon tea. "Why can't these people stay home and make their own tea?" Thomas asked.
Mina knew old Mr. Deverough was in a lather...again. If only that couple hadn't turned that beautiful old mansion into a tea room. Still, she admitted she loved the idea. I might even have a look around. I'll ask our cook, Frances, to take tea with me on our day off.he thought. Mina and Frances did in fact make plans to take tea at Bedford House the following Thursday which was their usual day off. It wasn't really a whole day off since they had to return in time for Old Mr. Deverough's supper at 7 P.M. When they arrived at Bedford House, they passed the familiar black wrought iron gate. Even with a quick glance, they noticed that quite a bit of work had been done to the place. "Two for tea," the hostess asked "Yes," Mina replied.

They were escorted to a table in what once had been the Grand Ballroom of Bedford House.
"I'll leave the menu with you," the young woman said. "My name is Sandra Marshall. I'm the proprietor of the Bedford Tea Room. I hope you enjoy our tea service," she said. While Mina smirked at the changes to the old place, Frances scanned the menu printed on delicate ecru parchment paper and written with a stylish Old English hand in sepia ink. They decided on high tea service, given it was so near four in the afternoon. They had to admit there was quite a selection of teas from which to choose. Frances favored the finger sandwich and pastry trays.
When their teas service was through, Sandra returned with their check. "My. Quite reasonable," Mina noted, gazing at their bill. "Thank you. Are you are resident of Bedford?" Sandra asked. "Yes. We are employed by Mr. Deverough," Mina replied. "You know? The mansion just across the avenue, Frances added, nodding toward the Deverough estate. "Oh, yes. Such a lovely place," Sandra said. "You know this place is haunted, don't you?" Mina said. "Bedford House? Haunted?" Sandra replied. "Why no I didn't know that. We've not seen any signs of a haunting since we've been here," Sandra continued. "You will. Once the place settles down. It's the ghost of Vanessa Bedford you'll be seeing...when you do," Mina said. "Why would Vanessa Bedford want to haunt this place?" Sandra asked. "Well you know don't you, she went and flung herself off the widow's walk?" Frances asked. "No. I ...didn't know that. Why Would she do such a thing?" Sandra asked. "The town was about to evict her from the place. Poorer than a church mouse she was," Mina said. "Got so bad, she had no choice. Always said she would never leave Bedford House," Mina continued. Mina and Frances glanced slyly at each other, as Mina slipped cash between the leather-bound check book. The following morning before the tea room opened, Sandra impulsively stopped at the library. She asked the reference librarian if she would direct her to the archives about Bedford House. "You're the new owner of Bedford House, right?" the librarian asked. "Yes." Sandra was in a hurry to get on with her research on Bedford House. If Bedford House is haunted, why hasn't there been some sign of it? Sandra mused. She flipped through the Bedford Chronicle online archives as far back into the newspaper's two hundred year old history as she could find. She scanned obituaries and death notices that made headlines. There it was. The newspaper account of Vanessa Bedford's suicide: October 29, 1871, Vanessa Bedford, wife of shipping magnate, Cyrus Bedford, took her life from the widow's walk of Bedford House at nine in the evening. Police stated her body was found on the roof of the veranda the following morning by her 47 year old son, Charles Bedford, The fire brigade removed the body to the mortuary. Funeral arrangements are private according to her family's wishes. So, it was true. Vanessa Bedford committed suicide all those many years ago. Sandra felt a peculiar lump in her throat. Talia DeSimone never mentioned the Bedford House suicide. I suppose it doesn't really matter. Sandra thought. She had to admit the image of a woman standing at the railing of the widow's walk, desperate and suicidal was a chilling picture. Still, that was mor than a hundred years ago. She and her sons are in their graves now. Our Bedford Tea Room is doing well,Sandra thought. The Marshalls loved Bedford. In summer it bustled with tourists eager to take in colonial New England life. That wasn't hared to do in what Sandra called, "a typical New England town" like Bedford. When tourists arrived, Bedford Tea Room was all the better for the additional business it brought their way. The work was hard, but manageable. Sandra did all the baking herself. She woke every morning at 5 AM, put on her apron and a pot of coffee and began baking scones, biscuits, tea cakes and sweet pastries. Once they were in the oven, she started the croissants for her "early birds"...people who meandered into the Tea Room before noon hour when her finger sandwiches were offered. By High Tea at 4 PM, the traditional, elegant watercress and cucumber finger sanders were available from the menu as well buttery scones with lemon curd and clotted cream and an assortment of other traditional pastries like Victoria biscuits served from traditional tins. Upstairs in the third floor bedroom, Robert was awakened by the aroma of Sandra's baked treats. He looked out the large bay window at the sea beyond. He could almost smell the salt air. It was a fairly calm day on the seas. A few fishing boats were already dotting the horizon even as the sun had barely risen. He scratched his tousled chestnut hair, pulled on his favorite chenille robe and slipped his feet into his raggedy old, but comfortable, slippers. This bedroom will never feel warm enough for me, he thought. It was true. Even when the Marshalls upgraded the central heating system that cost a small fortune, for some reason, the third floor never seemed comfortably warm. Little wonder if the servants hurried downstairs to the jobs when the Bedfords owned the place. Too cold up here, he thought as he made he was down the stairs. "Sandra?" He called to his wife as he passed their newly remodeled business office on the second floor. They transformed two second-floor bedrooms into his and hers business offices with the large sitting room on the opposite side of the hall should they need it for special catered affairs. Robert was certain he heard Sandra rustling about in her office. He poked in his head in the doorway but the room was empty.
He continued down the curved staircase to the kitchen. She must have gone downstairs already, he thought. Upon entering the kitchen, he saw his wife prepping for luncheon service. "Sandra? You know something? I could swear I just heard you in your office upstairs." "Couldn't have been. I've been right here at the sandwich board for nearly an hour. Must be ghosts," she said with a grin. Her expression changed quickly. "What's wrong?" Robert asked. "Oh, just something Deverough House housekeeper and cook told me," Sandra answered. "Oh? And what was that?" "Well, it seems that Vanessa Bedford is supposed to be haunting this place. The Deverough housekeeper and cook insist she committed suicide and her dying words were that she would never leave Bedford House." "That's preposterous and probably some old wives tale. Talia DeSimone never mentioned that." Sandra didn't respond. She turned her attention to chopping shallot into finely diced pieces. "I'm afraid it is quite true about her committing suicide, Robert. She had money problems and flung herself over the widow's walk. So, Yes. It is very possible she is haunting this place." Sandra said. "How do you come to such certainty she committed suicide?" Robert asked. "I found an old newspaper obituary. Vanessa Bedford was the wife of shipping magnate, Cyrus Bedford..a descendant of Mayflower pilgrims. They had two sons, Charles and Jeremiah. According to the Bedford librarian, Vanessa overindulged them and the spent their and her fortunes." Robert's expression was predictably stolid and pessimistic. He walked over to a tray of freshly baked tea biscuits and pilfered one flaky and golden brown. "There's homemade raspberry jam in the fridge. I removed the seeds you don't like," Sandra said, eyeing her husband surreptitiously. When he reached for two more tea biscuits, Sandra quickly removed them from temptation's way. "Uh..We don't make a profit from empty trays," Sandra scolded gently. "Oooh Grumpy, this morning, are we?" he responding with a hearty laugh. Sandra threw a tea towel at him capriciously. "Okay...What do you want me to do today? I gotta earn my keep somehow, don't I?" he said. "Well, if you are looking for something to do, you can go out to the Tea Room and see to setting the tables." "I live to serve," he answered, giving her a swat on her fanny.
In his former position, Robert was a technical writer for a large firm in New York City. He honestly didn't miss the daily trip from the City to the Hamptons where they were relatively comfortable in their old home. But.once the Marshalls visited Bedford, he grew very attached to it in a very detached sort of way. The Bedford people still considered the Marshalls, "outsiders." He wondered how long it would take until they were considered part of the inside crowd. The phone jangled. Sandra wiped flour dust from her hands on a tea towel and answered the ringing phone. "Bedford Tea Room," she spoke into the phone. "Yes. This is Melvina Nevington. I am inquiring about your dining facility," the woman's voice said. Sandra tried to recall the woman's name inasmuch as the caller seemed to indicate it should be recognized. "Good morning, "Ms." Nevington, "It's Mrs.Nevington, even though I am a widow." "Yes. Mrs. Nevington, how can I help you?" "The Bedford Ladies Historical Society is planning our annual luncheon. We would like to know if you have a private room available for our event." "Yes. As a matter of fact, we do have a large catering room for luncheons. How many guests do you expect?" "There are thirty-five members of our society. Though not all all thirty-five may attend. I would say at least thirty." "Is there a special menu you have in mind?" Sandra asked. "I understand you offer a finger sandwich buffet and also a dessert menu. You see I have already visited your Tea Room and I really enjoyed the scones at high tea," Mrs. Nevington said. "Why don't you stop by at noon today and I can give you a tour of the room and you can select a menu of your preference. That way you can discuss it with your members and we can create a custom menu based on your and their choices," Sandra said. "That sounds like a very good idea. I shall see you at noon today then," Mrs. Nevington replied. Melvina Nevington was true to her word. She arrive precisely at noon dressed in a pale blue and muted rose flowered chiffon frock and a large, raspberry picture hat with a black velvet band. Sandra invited her to have tea and light refreshments on the house. The older woman seemed delighted as Sandra escorted her to a table where a fresh pot of tea and a small tray of baked cranberry and ginger scones awaited. She poured Earl Grey tea into delicate, hand painted English porcelain cups and offered Mrs. Nevinton scones and clotted cream. "We are planning our annual luncheon two weeks from today. Will that be sufficient time for you to make your preparations? Mrs. Nevington asked.

"Oh I am sure it will," Sandra affirmed glancing around the room.

The early birds have not yet begun to arrive and it was an opportune time to show Mrs. Nevington the catering hall.

"Mrs. Nevington, perhaps you would like to see our catering facilities?"

"Yes. I would."

"Let us away then."

Sandra decided not to take the stairwell to the second floor and instead escorted the older woman to the wrought iron lift the Marshalls installed for greater patron convenience.

"Oh my. This lift is so lovely and so elegant. It doesn't in any way destroy the integrity of the historic Bedford House either. I love the wrought iron," Mrs. Nevington said.

"Well, you know it wouldn't do to have a large group climb the stairs to the second floor. We want our patrons to have full dining convenience."

When the exited the lift, the broad, oak panel doors to the catering hall were just a few steps away.

Sandra flipped on the lightes to the large candelabra styled chandelier with hand painted glass hurricane shades. The lights picked up the ruby, gold and sapphire colors of the large Oriental carpet.
The room had ten tables arranged around the perimeter of the carpet. The wallpaper was a muted burgundy with flecks of gold separated by a wide wainscoting of white oak. A dumb waiter for dining service was carefully hidden in a wall panel and an extensive length of long Victorian windows gave the room plenty of light during the day. The furnishings in this room bore a distinctive sea-faring them. Round tables with four or six captains chairs, a small vase of fresh flowers with a single candle in the center was capped by antique leaded glass hurricane shades. Pure Irish linen napery complimented the Bedford Tea Room dining service. All of the tableware and cutlery was of polished pewter Sandrea had found on her trips to a Northern Massachusetts forge.
"Yes. I think this will do very nicely," Mrs. Nevington said. "That mirror over the fireplace. Is it an original with the House?" she asked. Sandra glanced toward the antique mirror with its gilt frame hung about the mantle of the fireplace. "Yes. I believe it is. It was one of the things we decided would remain with the room," Sandra answered. "Funny thing. For years this house was empty, people walking past said they thought they saw Vanessa Bedford brushing her hair while standing before that mirror. Of course, I don't believe in ghosts," Mrs. Nevington said. "People in Bedford do seem to believe there are a lot of ghosts from the past. I'm sure that's true of most town," Sandra said. Dowstairs, Sandra hoped patrons were filling the dining room for morning brunch service. For this, Sandra provided a few menu variations that catered to a mid morningn style repast complete with mini blueberry pancakes, Scotch eggs, small meat pasties and fresh orange juice or mimosas for the more discerning types. "Yes, Mrs. Marsahall, this room will do very nicely indeed," Mrs. Harington said. "Oh please do call me Sandra, Mrs. Harrignton. I wonder if this would be too forward of me, but are there still memvberships available? I would so love the opportunity to learn more about the history of Bedford," Sandra said. "Why certainly. In fact, we would love to have you as a new member. In fact, I'll sponsor you myself. You know? I'm wondering if we might hold our regular board meeting here. The Board meets twice a month." Mrs. Harrington said, Sandra was caught off guard at such a response but was already working out a mental plan to keep the catering room busy, "That would be wonderful! What type of refreshments would you wish?" "Well, we meet at 8 P.M. on the 15th and the 30th of each month. So, I would imagine a light menu of tea and biscuits would be morem suitable," Mrs. Harrington said, At the close of that business day, Sandra and Robert went to sleep feeling exhausted but jubliant that the catering room already had solid bookings. The Bedford Historical Society's Annual luncheon did not go unnoticed by Mr. Deverough. In fact, the very sight of those Bedford matrons entering the Tea Room raised his hackles and his temper to unparallelled levels and worsened by the growing success the Tea Room was enjoying. When the Bedford News did a full review of the place complete with photos, that only added to Mr. Deverough's ire. He had to do something. But he was not sure what that would be. Clearly there was no point in trying to reason with the owners of the Bedford Tea Room. But when he read that Sandra Marshall, owner of Bedford Tea Room was inducted into the Bedford Histrocial Society, Mr. Deverough realizd enough was enough. He dialed the number of an old friend, Charles Linkell, a fellow member of his Revolutionary War Brigade. "Linkell? Alfred Deverough here. I was wondering if you know of someone willing to pull a prank." "Alfred? You are going to pull a prank? You are such a conservative man." "Yes. yes. It's just a small prank. Totally harmless and by the law book," Deverough said. "Well, you know Edward Sampson is quite the prankster. Remember the time he put the cotton batting inside St. Andrew's steeple? The Vicar went wild when he tried to ring it and it was deadly silent," Charles said. "I want you, not I, to pull a prank on my neighbors. They own the Bedford Tea Room. It has ruined the historical value of the neighborhood." "What is it you want me to do? Mind, It has to be legal." "Oh it's all legal what I have planned. I assure you of that." Linkell waited as Deverough cleared his throat and coughed. "I want to raise the dead," Devrough said. "That's impossible," Linkell said. "Not really. You have those old Revolutionary War costumes in our musuem aross town. I want you to scare their customers away." "How?" "Remember that movie machine you had?" "Yes...You think that old device will scare anyone?" "No. Remember how the light in it didn't run film and all it did was cast a spooky light?" "Yes. A light wouldn't scare anyone." "It would if you placed a mirror image near it." Linkell wasn't sure what Deverough was thinking. "I want you to dummy a woman's costume to look like Vanessa Bedford." "But how will I get that inside their Tea Room?"bert "You can use the projection from the drawing room in my home. That will make the image even better coming from a distance." "Alfred, have you given any thought to what happens if your neighbors call the Constable." "It's even better a prank. We just turn off the projector and the Constable will think they are imagining they saw a ghost." "And if customers see it?" "The Constable might think the owners are trying to get publicity." Linkell realized his friend was likely a better prankster than he imagined. The very next day, they set up the gear. Sandra Marshall was knee deep in dough for her famous scones when she heard Robert's ghastly shriek. She grabbed a towel to wipe off flour and ran as fast as she could to the dining room. "Robert, what on earth.." Her voice trailed off as she saw the ghostly vision. "Robert that can't be real. It's just a trick of sunlight." "The drapes on the windows are all drawn," Robert said. The figure suddenly disappeared.Bedford House might be haunted but in truth, both were skeptical and felt that any ideas of the place actually haunted was mere historical suggestion and yet, there had been unusual things happening since they moved into Bedford House. Sarah and Robert decided to dismiss it as their having overactive imaginations. Even though each to the other secretly felt puzzled. As she set about prepping that day's menu, she got an idea how to dispel the ghost story about Bedford House and capitalize on it. Later that evening as their business duties were done, they retired to the sitting room to unwind. "What a day!" Robert said. "It looked as if everyone in town was here today," Sarah responded. "Not everyone. Not our dour neighbor next door," Robert said. "I doubt we will ever see that grumpy old man coming here for tea," Sarah replied. Robert laughed. "He'd probably find fault with our brand of imported teas," he added. "You know how the entire town thinks this place is haunted?" Sarah said. "I think that's always brought in business. Don't you?" Robert asked. "Well, thanks a lot! And here I thought it was my artistic culinary talents," she laughed. "But now that you mention it...I had an idea before as we were clearing away," she continued. "Oh? and what is this idea?" "Why not capitalize on that idea the place is haunted?" "How?" "I was thinking we could drop hints about some of the odd things that have happened since we moved here." "Such as?" "The catering room upstairs where Vanessa Bedford supposedly is seen brushing her hair. We could generate quite a bit of interest if we held a special event, like a seance in that room," Sarah said. "We already have more business than we can handle. We'd have to hire more staff. As it is now, we have only Justine Morgan and she's a part-timer," Robert said. "It would only be when business is slow," she said. "And who would the medium be? You need a medium for a seance." "I realize that, Robert. And I know just the person. She's quite unusual and claims to have second sight, given her great grandmother was a Gypsy tarot card reader. Daria claims all the women in her family are psychic. She'd a friend of my old college roommate Pat Lane and Pat swears Daria Vasta is psychic." "And by what does Pat Lane base that on?" "Years ago, Pat lost a family heirloom, a very unusual hand beaded coin purse handed 3 generations. Pat thought she misplaced it after she graduated high school and her mother packed it in her suitcase. Pat wanted to be an antique dealer after and get a degree in art history. I remember her describing it to me, It was only about three inches wide by three inches long, had a silk lining and was hand beaded in pale green with a red beaded rose in the center on one side. It had only one coin in it that was never to be spent. Pat met Daria when her parents sent her to an art school in Vienna Austria According to Pat, they met in an art museum and became fast friends when one of the paintings in the art museum as a portrait of Daria's great grandmother. It was painted by a famous Austrian artist, Waldmuller, who loved to paint oil portraits in idyllic rustic settings. Daria told Pat that she thought Waldmuller painted her great grandmother because he thought she had unusual, deep set, mystical pale blue. Anyway, Pat convinced Daria Vasta that people back home would love to have tarot readings. Daria set up shop in a small storefront somewhere on a New Jersey boardwalk. "Is there a point to all this?" Robert asked. "Yes. It was Daria who found the priceless beaded purse Pat so treasured." "How did she do that?" "She told Pat she "saw" the purse in a vision she had. She told Pat to look inside a black silk lining. Pat thought that was crazy. Months later whn she and her mother were going through old clothing they planned to donate to the church charity for the needy, Pat noticed that there was somthing in the lining of her old high school windbreaker. The lining was black silk! "But how did the purse get there? And why?" "Pat said she put the purse in the pocket of that windbreaker when she, not her mother, packed it as the last item of clothing, so it wouldn't get stolen at the airport luggage check in." "How do you know where to find this Daria?" "Easy. We're going to attend that restaurant event in New York City next month. We can just drive to the Jersey Shore and ask her." "How do you know which Jersey boardwalk?" "I'll call Pat Lane. She's bound to know where to find Daria." Robert raised both eyebrows in disbelief. "Oh before I forget..."he started. "I have a juicy bit of gossip for you. Justine told me she overheard the Deverough housekeeper say that Thomas Deverough had "something up his sleeve" to shut down the Bedford Tea Room." "And just howdoes he plan to do that?" "The housekeeper said she didn't know the details but he's been meeting with Charles Linkell and Edward Sampson several times recently. Justine said the housekeeper overheard Linkell suggest Sampson "scare the customers away" and that Linkell should use the Revolutionary War costumes on the museaum." "What on earth is he up to now? How are old costumes going to scare away customers?" Sarah asked. Robert shrugged. No more was mentioned about Deverough's plan even as Sarah and Robert both saw the strange "apparitions" in the catering room, Robert's office and several times in the main dining room." Sarah began to cajole the so called ghost. "Vanessa dear, I'm sorry you an I can't have tea," Sarah would say whenever she noticed the light playing games in the main dining room. She even set up a small table by the alcove window in the catering room and placed a Victorian hair brush and set an empty painted china up and saucer with a silver tea set. "Now Vanessa, you can brush your hair for all to see and have a cup of tea," Sarah spoke into the empty room. Sarah engaged Daria Vasta for the first of several seances three weeks before Halloween. Robert entered this phase of business with intrepidation thinking Sarah's plan would fizzle after the first seance flopped. He was more shocked than his wife when the ultra staid people in this New England town inundated Sarah with pleas for more. Daria Vasta apparently had enhanced her reputation far beyond her imagination. Robert was quite surprised at her talents when she confirmed Bedford House was haunted. "Mr.Marshall, Bedford House is haunted by a very sad, lonely woman,"Daria said. Robert was skeptical. Daria could know the sad story of Vanessa Bedford from books or newspapers. "You don't believe me, do you?" Daria asked. "Just about everyone knows the Vanessa Bedford tale," he responded. "I realize that but I have not researched this home. I only know what my senses tell me. Remember when you first moved into this house? You were in your upstairs office and you turned off the light and it kept coming back on? You had the electic wiring checked all over the house and still the light switch in that room flipped on. You don't know why. I do. That was a bedroom occupied by the sad lady's son, Jeremiah. His mother kept the light on in that room because he was afraid of the dark. And your bedroom is always cold because the master who owned this place kept it cold to remind him of the sailors who slept in the cold aboard his ships." "But I tell you this. There are 2 ghosts, one real and a second not real but meant to be rid of you and your wife," Daria continued. "What do you mean? Someonne is trying to harm us." "I sense a cloud over Bwdford House. I see flames. Look for the sad lady to save your wife. That is all I can see. The sad lady will never let her home be destroyed." "You think there could be a fire in Bedford House? But, we have heat and smoke detectors all over this place," Robert replied. "I see flames but they may not be the kind of flames you imagine." After Daria's warning, Robert became very edgy about the possibility of danger to his wife. The change in her husband did nout go unnoticed. "Robert, is something bothering you?" "Things have been so hectic and chaotic lately. I worry about you becoming exhausted. That's when accidents happen." "I also am quite unnerved by Daria Vasta's presence here. What do you really know about her other than what Pat Lane told you a long time ago?" "I thought you were the ultimate skeptic about Daria's insight." "I was until she told me we have 2 ghosts, one real and the other not. She claims she sees a flames but not a fire." "I thought you didn't believe in ghosts. And let's for a moment assume Bedford House could be haunted, we know it's only the unrested soul of Vanessa Bedford. She is quite used to us by now. Anyway, let's have a private seance with Daria and see what she is referring to." "Sarah, it's all hocus pocus. But okay, let's see what she has to say. Just out of curiosity, mind you." Over at the Deverough mansion, Mina and the maids prepared to tackle spring cleaning a little early since Mr. Deverough decided to take the warmer weather in Virginia. Mina was told to omit cleaning the alcove room on the second floor. That was where the ghost camera was set up. So far, the ghostly projection into the catering room worked in the Marshalls favor. It infuriated Thomas Deverough that those two next door used "his" ghost sightings to increase business complete with a medium and seances. He warned his housekeeper not to clean the alcove room so his plot wouldn't be discovered. But he forgot Mina had keys to all the rooms in his mansion. So he decided to return 3 days sooner than his housekeeper expected. Mina had already dusted and tidied up the room. She saw the film projector but gave no particular interest in it. Until the night of the Marshalls private seance. Mr. Deverough always had a warm glass of milk and tea biscuits most nights before bed. Mina usually placed a tray in his room. On this night, he was not in his favorite chair in his room. Mina noticed the light under the door to the alcove room and nudged the door open with her elow while hoklding the silver tea tray. What she saw next made her drop the tray. Mr. Deverough was standing beside the film projector but instead of a film roll running on that machine, there was a floor length mirror with a woman's reflection bouncing off the mirror across toward Bedford House. Deverough heard the crash as the tea set hit the bare oak floor. "Stupid woman!" he shrieked. "I told you to stay out of this room!" "I'm sorry sir." she replied meekly. "Mina don't you mention what you saw to anyone if you want to keep your job!" But the sight of that woman's reflection had scared her enough to head for the kitchen, hoping Frances had not left for home yet. "Good grief! Mina you are as white as if ..as if you've seen a ghost." "Frances, I did. You must swear an oath you will never tell anyone what I am about to tell you." Frances was a God fearing woman who never swore in all her sixty-four years. She crossed her heart and pressed her hands together as if praying. "He's got a ghost making machine in the Alcove room." "Saints protect us. Mina are you sure?" "Sure as my name is Mina, I'm sure." France wanted to believe what Mina saw was a mirror reflection but for the fact Old Deverough had only one mirror stored in the attic. It was a large oval shape. The kind women used in the past to check their hemlines for a full view. But the one in the attic room had been stored when Mr. Deverough was a child. She remembered when he had his butler, Johnson, move it there the week after she was hired. The former cook, Mrs. Child's retired and France felt lucky to be chosen. By the time it was moved to the attic the glass had turned an amber shade and had speckles in the reflection. Maybe that's what Mina saw. "Frances, I tell you Deverough is up to no good! He got very angry when I walked into that room. He told me I was not to tell anyone what I saw." Nothing in a small town remains a secret. Frances was bursting to tell her sister who was in service at Nevington Manor. Before long, the secret was no longer a secret to anyone but old Deverough. When Sarah overheard two customers discussing the "secret," she wanted to know more. Deverough's housekeeper, Frances and his cook, Mina, would know best what everyone in town seemed to know. The two women always took high tea on ther day off. Sandra had to find a way to confirm the rumor. It didn't help that Daria Vasta's prediction had preoccupied Sarah's mind hard as she tried to ratonalize it out of her mind. She had a plan. She would invite the two women to have a private high tea service in the catering room for free. She would tell them the tea room downstairs waw overbooked and would be crowded. It was a tiny white lie but Sandra had to know what old Deverough was planning and hopefully end the rumor the Bedford Tea Room was haunted by Vanessa Bedford. She'd come to the conclusion that their business needed more than to be a ghostly attraction. As soon as Frances and Mina entered the tea room, Sandra made a beeline to attend them. "Ladies, as you can see,the tea room is quite crowded due to the summer tourists. How would you feel about having high tea upstairs in the catering room?" "Well..." Frances hesitated glancing toward Mina" "I will provide your tea service free of charge. I'm sorry we are so crowded." "Can we order anything we like without charge?" Frances asked. "Of course! Compliments of Bedford Tea Room," Sandra said, handing the two women menus. "I'll give you time to order. Meanwhile, I'll bring up a pot of tea while you decide what to order." "Are you sure we won't be in Vanessa Bedford's way?" Mina joked. "I'm sure not,"Sandra answered as she hurried off. She was actually glad Mina mentioned Vanessa's ghost. It was a good way to ask about the town "secret." Sandra reappeared with a tea pot, two china cups, a tea infuser and two small boxes of tea, one the house favorite and the other a strawberry herbal tea which was a favorite of customers. "Are you ladies ready to order?" "Yes. We wll both have today's special, The Vanessa Bedford scones with strawberry cream." Sandra saw her chance to inquire as to what old Deverough was up to. "That's a very good choice considering the rumor going around town," Sarah said. "Rumor? You mean about Vanessa Bedford haunting Bedford Tea Room?" Frances replied. "No. That one is quite old. It's the one about Mr. Deverough and some kind of ghost making machine," Sandra said. Frances and Mina gulped and looked horrified. "How did you hear about that?" Frances asked. "Right here in the Tea Room. You overhear a lot of gossip when you serve tea and cones. "I'll be right back with the Special of the day." Sandra said. She headed to the kitchen wondering how she could find out what Old Deverough was up to. When she returned to their table, she could see Frances and Mina with their heads together. "Ladies, enjoy your Vanessa Bedford scones and strawberry cream. Now can get you amything else?" "Mrs.Marshall..About that town rumor, you don't believe it, do you?" Mina asked. "It occurred to me that it was a joke at first. But, may I be frank with you? The Bedford Tea Room has been a thorn in Mr. Deverough's side since we opened. So it occurred to me he just might play a prank on us to scare off our patrons and shut down our business. He knows well the stories about Vanessa Bedford's ghost. I confess we have had few odd things happen since we moved in. But those events could not possibly be a prank." "Mr. Deverough would fire both of us if we mentioned that contraption he has in the alcove room..." Mina started. "Mina! Hush up!" Frances snapped. "So Mr. Deverough really has a ghost making machine?" "Nooo. I ddn't...He doean't..Oh please Mrs. Marshall. It's just a mirror and a film projector he uses to make it look like a ghost" France said pleadingly. "That's all it is?" Sandra asked. She began to laugh and the two ladies hesitated at first and then laughed meekly. "Well that certainly won't hurt business. It may even help add a special nuance to the place always assuming the real ghost of Vanessa Bedford doesn't consider the Deverough ghost too much competition," Sandra joked. Sandra left Frances and Mina feeling relieved that Sandra was not angry. "The worst is over" Frances said. "Not quite. What will Mr. Deverough do when he finds out he's the joke of the town?" Mina asked. "He's an old man and he won't care. He'll just think he accomplished his revenge. Let's finish our tea and get back. It's getting near twilight and this room is making me nervous with all this talk about ghosts, real or created by a machine," Frances said. "Mr. Deverough is probably eating dinner by now" Mina said. "Still, you heard what Mrs. Marshall said about competition. Vanessa Bedford is an unrested soul and she could be angered by the Deverough ghost, real or not, Frances said. The next morning, Sandra couldn't shake the conversation she'd had with Old Deverough's prank. When she mentioned it to Robert, he had an all too mschevious expression Sandra knew all too well. "Robert, what are you up to?" "What makes you think I am up to something?" "Well for one thng, our 20th annniversary is months away and for another, you've been in this kitchen foraging for foil, poultry string and you're holding the wind chime you removed from the kitchen window." "One good prank deserves another," he said with a wink.. "And if your prank causes Old Deverough to be scared to death?" "Trust me. I'll make sure it doesn't. We've been operating this tea room a long time and I have to admit, it's been a pretty great adventure, ghosts and all." "What are you planning to do?" "I just want our ghost, Vanessa Bedford, to feel right at home." Sandra didn't like the sound of that. But her morning duties were getting behind and the employees would soon be arriving to set up for the day. The cleaning man was almost finished shampooing the carpets in the main dining room. He'd be heading upstairs to the catering room to do the same. "The catering room! Oh my gosh! Robert!" she murmured aloud. She ran up the stairs to head off what might be an embarrassing disaster. Before she could stop him, the poor cleaning man let out a loud scream, "Ggggghhhhost! Ghost!" "Mr. Angellini! It's not a ghost!" she said. Robert came out of his study just down the hall. "What's going on? I heard a scream." "Robert, your prank scared poor Mr. Angellini," Sandra said. "Sandra, I didn't...I wasn't..I wasn't in that room!" Sandra's face went white. "What do you mean?" she asked. "I mean I haven't put it together. I decided not to and besides I don't have all the parts I need," he answered sheepishly. "Mr. Angellini, what exactly do you think you saw?" "I don't "think" it. The room was dark. So I walked over to open the drapes. When I turned to start the machine, I saw a lady in a robe and nightgown brushing her hair. When she saw me opening the drapes, she shook her hair brush at me. This place is haunted. I'm getting out of here. Get yourself another service to do your rugs!" he said angrily. "Robert, he probably just imagine what he saw. It's well known about the ghost of Vanessa Bedford and this place." For the first time in a very long time she could remember, Robert looked skeptical. "What if.." he started. "It was just Old Deverough playing his tricks," she said. "With the drapes closed?" Robert was right. Mr. Angellini said he saw it before he opened the drapes. So it couldn't have been Mr. Deverough. Sandra walked over to the window that faced the Deverough mansion. The drapes there were closed. Robert was right.Vanessa Bedford wasn't just old Deverough's joke. "Robert, what do we do now? If Mr. Angellini spreads it around Bedford Tea Room really is haunted, we'd lose customers and our business." "Or,maybe customers would think we paid Angellini to keep the ghost and haunting tales alive." "But what do we do about Vanessa?" "If she's come back to haunt this place, there must be something she left behind that she's come back for." "Whst could it be?" "Leave her a note and see if she responds." Sandra felt foolish writing a note to a ghost. She laughed at the thought a ghost would not only read what she wrote but would actually respond. She placed the note on the fireplace mantel. Neither she nor Robert slept that night and listened for any tiny creaking. When they awoke, both cautiously walked to the catering room. The note on the mantel was gone! Robert checked the fireplace while Sandra scoured the rest of the room. "Robert come here quick!" "What is it?" "Did you drop this envelope when you were here yesterdAY?" "No. Maybe Angellini did." She handed the envelope to Robert. "Open it." Robert carefully opened the flap. "This envelope is yellowed. It's old. Maybe it was taped to the bottom of that low boy dresser." The low boy dresser was used as a serving table now but came with the house when they bought it. Robert couldn't believe his eyes. "Robert! What is it?" "Sandra read it for yourself." Her eyes widened as she grabbed for the table to steady herself. "Sandra Vanessa Bedford is your great aunt! You never told me that!" "I never knew. My parents always claimed they were New Yorkers." "So that's why Vanessa Bedford haunts this place," Robert said. "What do you mean?" "She wanted to tell you she was family." "Well Auntie Dear, I hope you are proud of your niece." "So I'm the husband of a genuine Bedford?" Vanessa Bedford had much more to tell her niece. As months passed, Sandra found several other bits of information. A letter tucked into a cookbook was the most shocking. Aunt Vanessa and a much younger Mr. Deverough were lovers. There was gossip that one or both Bedford sons were Deveroughs. Aunt Vanessa never go over that scandal and to compensate, over indulged her sons. "So now we know why Old Deverough wanted us gone," Robert said. "Seems like Mr. Deverough was quite the lover," Sandra replied. Just as she spoke those words, the cannister of flour fell in a cloud of dust onto the floor. "Sorry Aunt Vanessa," Sandra said grinning.