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Copyright Oggbashan August 2019
The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.
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I own a haunted house. It was a Vicarage until the 1930s but originally built in the 1810s. It is not surprising that it is haunted. Its garden adjoins the Church's graveyard but most of the ghosts from there do not leave the graveyard.
Inside the house I am frequently aware of the resident ghost. She was a mid 19th Century maid and a very large woman. At the time she must have seemed like a giantess because she was more than six feet tall. Her size was a partial cause of her suicide. She was engaged to the head ostler at the Squire's house. They were an unlikely couple, Like many men working with horses he was a small man and she was the tallest woman for miles around. Unfortunately she became pregnant by him despite their precautions. When she told him of the pregnancy he rejected her, saying he didn't want to marry a woman who was head and shoulders above him.
She couldn't face the disgrace of producing a bastard and committed suicide by drowning herself in the river..
Her name was Eleanor, Eleanor Simpson. The Vicar and his wife were upset by Eleanor's suicide. They would have supported her and the baby, but Eleanor didn't know that and was distressed by her rejection by a man she thought loved her. The coroner took a very sympathetic view, stating that Eleanor was physically and mentally unstable because of her pregnancy and hadn't rationally intended to commit suicide. She must have overbalanced while walking beside the river and it was an accident that she fell in. That meant Eleanor could be buried in consecrated ground. She was, right against the churchyard wall adjacent to the Vicarage garden.
Her former fiancΓ© was discharged and had to leave the village to find work in London.
But Eleanor's ghost still haunted my house, the former Vicarage. She wasn't threatening. She just prowled the corridors. If I met her she would execute a brief bob to acknowledge me, smile and pass on. I frequently said "Hello Eleanor" as we met. Her smile would be greater then and her bob lower but at its lowest her head was still above mine. I had to look up to the ghost of Eleanor and move aside to let her massive skirts pass me. If I didn't, I would feel those skirts brushing against my legs and that was more contact with a ghost than I felt prudent.
I liked having Eleanor around my empty house. She seemed a benign and friendly presence, even more so since my wife had divorced me ten years ago for being a workaholic who neglected her. It had been true. I was the UK Sales manager for a large Japanese electronics company who were expanding their products sold to the UK. Now they were well established and my work was less demanding. My employers were experimenting with domestic robots. I had been sent an experimental robot that would be unlikely to be a production model without more development. The robot was too large for most modern houses. Saleable models would have to be much smaller but the one I had did far more than I had expected and could learn.
She was called Masuyo, and was dressed in a Japanese interpretation of a Victorian maid's costume with a very large white apron over a wide spreading floor length blue dress. She was as tall as Eleanor's ghost. Sometimes I mistook one for the other. Masuyo could perform most domestic tasks, cooking, cleaning, washing, bed-making etc. and could learn to do other tasks as well. She could be given orders verbally, by mobile phone -- she had her own one -- and increasingly just by thinking at her. I found the last method slightly disconcerting as she might react to a thought that I hadn't meant literally.
Masuyo looked more like a giant android than a robot. She was shaped like a woman with flawless skin but her face was usually devoid of expression as if she was asleep. Her face could express emotion if I asked her to. My thoughts could produce unusual reactions from Masuyo. If, for example, I was feeling sad or depressed, she might hug or kiss me on the cheek or just rest a hand on me. She would smile at me and even say "I love you, Graham". That was unsettling from a robot even when I knew it was in response to an unspoken thought of mine. I was worried that if there was a discrepancy between my spoken order and my thoughts that Masuyo would act on the thought not the order.
I had already expressed my concerns about this conflict in weekly status reports to the development team working on a commercial version of an android. They had disabled the response to thoughts on their development models while they considered the problem. They couldn't alter Masuyo without rebuilding her. They asked me to monitor the problem which they didn't think would be a real risk to me or anyone else.
Masuyo could and would order groceries to be delivered using the company's debit card which I would repay at the end of each month. She was restricted to my house and its grounds because the idea of a robot in public would upset the neighbours. They were used to seeing her around my house and garden and would even talk to her as if she was a human. Masuyo had taken some time to learn how to garden because at first she couldn't distinguish between a wanted plant and a weed. She had downloaded a garden encyclopedia and was now a better informed and skilled a gardener than me. My house was clean, well run, I ate well from Masuyo's cooking and my garden was the envy of my neighbours.
It was Masuyo's reaction to the ghost of Eleanor that worried me. Masuyo could see
Eleanor. I had explained that Eleanor was a ghost but Masuyo seemed to interact with Eleanor even more than I did.
One Friday evening I came home from work to find Masuyo on her knees in the churchyard removing weeds around Eleanor's grave. That was worrying. Masuyo shouldn't have left my property. I asked what Masuyo was doing. Her reply was even more disconcerting:
"Eleanor asked me to tidy her grave, Graham," Masuyo replied.
How could a ghost instruct Masuyo to do anything? Could Eleanor's thoughts be picked up by Masuyo?
"Why did you accept an order from Eleanor?" I asked.
"It wasn't an order. It was just a request," Masuyo replied.
"Why did you comply with Eleanor's request?" I persisted.
"Because you love her and she is important to you, Graham."
That startled me. It was true. I loved seeing Eleanor in my house. It went beyond liking. If Eleanor hadn't been a ghost, yes, I would love her.
"OK, Masuyo. Carry on."
I had a sudden thought.
"Has Eleanor made any other requests, Masuyo?" I asked.
"Yes. If I have time, could I tidy up all the graveyard. I could do that around my other duties over the next couple of weeks but Eleanor asked that I obtain your permission first. Do you agree, Graham?"
"Yes, Masuyo," I said. I was aware that windblown weeds from the graveyard had been making Masuyo's gardening more difficult.
"And..."
"And?"