History

Marquess of Sligo cast a long shadow. His oppressive influence oozed from the walls of Westport House, poisoning the air, stealing the breath. Like an evil spirit, he haunted the halls, striking primal fear into his servants’ hearts. Even the tiniest mistake could have evoked his wrath: a speck of dust in a corner, a dinner served a bit too cold, an accidentally chipped cup; everything had to be done perfectly. Everything had to be by his design. His words lashed as sharp as his cane. The people closer to him, his lovers and his children, had the most to fear. Jacob was unfortunate to be the latter.

Jacob didn’t remember much of his earlier days in Westport House. Only menacing presence and gripping terror, when Father Dearest found it convenient to acknowledge his bastard son's existence. However, there were also Mama’s stories and mouth-watering smells of her cooking. Big brothers’ jokes and silly games. All of these, good and bad, ended when they dragged him, crying and screaming, to be shipped to a foster home. He didn’t understand why. Did he misspeak, misstep, mishandle? He promised to be better! An ear-ringing slap made Jacob cry more — but silently.

Nevertheless, his departure from Westport turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Mr and Mrs Finnegan, while demanding, could never match Lord Sligo’s cruel ingenuity. They’ve sent Jacob to a primary school, where in dank and grey classrooms, he paradoxically felt free for the first time in his life. He was quick to learn his numbers and letters; hymns and scriptures provided no challenge to him. And then came the time to be shipped away again, even farther from Westport, to a boarding school. Years passed before Jacob learned the true purpose of this move: his education was and has always been a gift — and a leverage, ensuring his mother’s obedience — from Marquess of Sligo.

Initially, Jacob didn’t mix well with the children of gentry and clergy. There, at Cheltenham College, he learned of his ‘taint’, the meaning of his dubious parentage; of his abruptly short record in the registry of entry. There, he also learned to turn the tide, twist the word, pretend and blend in against all odds. He appeared to be as natural in mimicry as he was before in memorising scriptures. Jacob studied French, Latin, and Greek, but the inner workings of the human heart were the most useful language he ever learned.

Jacob’s so-called ‘spirit-talk’ first started as a game between his bored college peers. In the dark of night, they pried each other’s secrets, lied outrageously and imagined ghosts whispering in their ears. And thus, Jacob’s alter-ego was born. Long after graduation, this stage persona grew and matured; and Jacob became the magnificent Mr Felix Forsythe, a soothsayer, ghost-whisperer, the master of spiders and spirits.

After all, if you are dealt a bad hand, you can’t win the game playing by the rules. You would need a marked deck of your own.