Character Showcase - Alma Clemmons

People have a habit of disappearing around Alma Clemmons.

 In a DEADLY SHADE OF NIGHT, one elderly lady— the mistress of Furthermore— is about to breathe her last. She’s been clinging on for a long time, not because she enjoys life, but because she’s resentful of the fact that her grandson will inherit everything and he has been such a great disappointment. In fact, she’s resentful and bitter about most things, and finds her only enjoyment in making people miserable.

Alma Clemmons must be well aware of the fact that nobody will mourn her passing, but, on the other hand, she does not intend to go too far. If she gets her way (and she usually does) Alma will remain to haunt everybody who dares enter her house, long after she’s passed from this world.

She’s lived in the house they call Furthermore for many years. When her father died, he left the property to Alma, as his only child. But because of the laws of the time, once she married, the house and farm became her husband’s property. When he died, the property then became her son’s, but there was a provision in the will that made certain it could not be sold until Alma died.

For this reason, her grandson, Constant, has eagerly awaited Alma’s death for years. Once she’s gone, he wants to sell the house and take his fortune off to London. Whitherward Fell and the nearest city of York are far too provincial for Constant Clemmons and he has always had tastes beyond his means, so getting his hands, at last, on Alma’s fortune, as well as the property, will finally let him lead the life he’s always wanted.

To say that Alma is not well-liked, is quite an understatement. But she wouldn’t have it any other way. She is a stern, miserly, dictatorial woman, who believes in living a spartan life and the importance of “suffering”. She thinks of herself as “pious” and “god-fearing”, but she has her own interpretation of what those words mean. In the words of one character,

 “It is people like Alma, Detective, who give religion a bad name.”

Alma has always been strong-willed. She would never have married at all if her father had not warned her before he died, “A woman alone in the world, and one left with a considerable portion— as will you be, my dear— becomes subject to unsavory attentions. Better you find a man that you can live with tolerably, than give them all a chance to swarm about when I am gone. Make a marriage on your terms, to avoid the bother of fortune hunters and charlatans.”

Alma, mindful of this advice, had watched Augustus Clemmons handling a bull, heard him bartering a brisk sale on some piglets, and decided he would do adequately for her purposes. So she approached him with an offer and he had not dared refuse. As long as he stayed mostly outdoors and she inside, they had a peaceful, proficient and profitable marriage partnership. She fed him, cleaned his clothes, cut his hair and toenails, and pulled the occasional sore tooth for him. In return he worked the farm. She never felt endangered by any such thing as his intelligence, which was focused on animal breeding and crop harvests, but did not reach beyond that. He never challenged her orders; never had the gall to suggest she lacked judgment or the ability to manage their lives perfectly well. He let her make all the decisions about the house. As her father had urged, she made a marriage on her terms and chose a simple man.

Sadly, Augustus left her with a son, who grew up one day to turn against Alma in favor of a witch. The less said about that the better.

Well, she had seen them all off eventually. At ninety-four, she remains in the house called Furthermore. Nobody is going to chase her away.

“She will stay until the Good Lord takes her,” the vicar remarks to the doctor one afternoon, when their visits overlap.

To which the doctor replies, “Good luck to Him for trying.”

“Mrs. Clemmons is a great age.”

“Yes. Almost a bloody century. But she won’t go before she’s ready. Ever seen anybody attempt to bathe a cat, Mr. Grisdale?”

So, for now, Alma remains in her house, clinging angrily to life, with the windows shut and the thick, stale air indoors rarely disturbed. And with her nightmares full of screaming ghosts.

Here, in this house there is something that reeks of evil.

Some say it’s Alma herself.

It has been said that the only thing feared by the Beast of Whitherward Fell is Alma Clemmons. People do have a habit of disappearing around her.         

Perhaps, when she’s finally gone, all hell will truly break loose.

 **

Read more about Alma and the Beast of Whitherward Fell in A DEADLY SHADE OF NIGHT. Available now for pre-order.

(Image: Portrait of a woman by Thomas Eakins c. 1804-1900)