Chorus of the Dead

Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Still, for all slips of hers,

One of Eve's family-

Ainsley was greeted at the bottom of the stairs by Dr. Bennett who had come to the house for the funeral. While Ainsley had been with Lillian upstairs the house had awoken and was ablaze with activity. People, many more than could be comfortably contained, were filing into the foyer and parlour, many coming to pay their last respects before partaking in the funeral procession through town.

"How does our patient fare?" Dr. Bennett asked glumly.

"As good as to be expected. Severe gastric issues. Refuses to eat anything." Ainsley leaned into Dr. Bennett so no one else could hear. "A tad bit spoiled in my humble opinion."

Bennett stifled a laugh. "Of course. She is a challenge, that one. All things considering, I think we can make some allowances for her behaviour don't you?"

"I am not used to dealing with patients. Is it always this difficult?"

"And more," was Dr. Bennett's knowing reply. "Did you grab a cake?" Bennett held up a small black cloth package, wrapped neatly with a black satin bow. Ainsley recognized the favour as a funeral cake. A long standing tradition dictated that a family in mourning provided the often bland morsels for everyone who showed up at the funeral.

Just then Mary, the young servant girl, appeared in a simple black frock with a deep basket nestled into the crook of her arm. With her free hand she handed Ainsley a wrapped cake. Ainsley caught her eyes for a moment as he thanked her but she looked away quickly, as if afraid to meet his gaze. Before he could say anything she had moved on to the next person and continued to hand out the cakes.

"My ribbon is white," Ainsley showed the small parcel to Bennett. "What do you suppose that means?"

Bennett shrugged and Ainsley slipped the wrapped cake into his pocket.

With a tilt of his head Bennett gestured towards the front door, and Ainsley nodded, feeling the need to break free from the tightly knit throng of people, more arriving each minute. He glanced into the parlour as they passed and saw a huddle of men, Walter included, gathered around Josephine's casket. Mrs. Lloyd stood nearby, a white handkerchief held to her nose as she directed the group. Elizabeth stood a few paces away, her hands folded in front of her, her gaze tight to the floor.

As if sensing his gaze she looked to him then, rising her head ever so slightly. Could it be, he wondered, as Lillian said. Could Elizabeth be poisoning her family one by one?

A moment passed and their mutual gaze was broken as the crowd swelled. Ainsley realized Dr. Bennett had made it to the fresh air of the outdoors and began maneuvering through the crowd to join him.

Once outside he noticed the entire length of the drive was awash with black carriages led by black horses, many of them stationed side by side to allow for more room along the procession route. Ainsley and Bennett stood watch just outside the door surveying the high volume of people who had come to attend the funeral. The horse-led hearse was stationed directly in front of the steps, two elegantly dressed coachmen stood at attention beside the open and waiting doors, ready to receive the body of little Josephine Lloyd. The team of six black horses, adorned with high black ostrich plumes on their bridles and silver studded reins, pounded their hooves in anticipation, the activity around them causing them to become restless.

Ainsley could see women silently crying all around him, each finely dressed lady dabbing their eyes with lace handkerchiefs. Many of the accompanying men held folded black umbrellas in case the threatening grey clouds decided to open up. The sea of people gathered at the front of the house parted suddenly, as if almost on instinct, allowing the procession of six servants to carry the white and gold leaf accented casket out of the front doors and down the few steps to the gravel laneway.