I’m halfway to the first door and hear a creaking sound as if someone is following me and the floorboards are complaining. Heart racing, I turn quickly but all I see is my footprints in the substantial layer of dust on the worn hall carpet. I reach the first door and turn the handle. It opens and I stand back. Inside the dim room, it’s amazingly clean; dust covers are over lumps,which I assume is furniture. I move into the room and lift a dusty sheet and peer underneath. I find a very old-style chair but of good quality, undoubtedly antique. I turn toward the window and pull aside one of the drapes. Even through the murky glass, I can see the garden below and the path where I stood looking up at the house.
Without so much as a creak, the door slams shut behind me, the sound like a gunshot in the silence. I cry out, fear has me by the throat and I move my flashlight around the room. Terror grips me but no one is in the room with me. Frozen to the spot, I drag in stale air as my attention flashes from side to side. Nothing moves but the house moans and a cold breeze brushes across my legs. Where is it coming from? I turn to the window but it’s closed and the glass is intact. I need to get out of here, now. My bravery slips away and I go to the door. I turn the doorknob but the door doesn’t open. I’m stuck inside, and nobody knows I’m here. Terrified, I hammer on the door. “Hey, let me out of here. What game are you playing?”
Nothing. Not one sound comes from the hallway. Another cold breeze brushes across my bare ankles in an icy caress and I turn my flashlight toward the hearth. I stand panting, trying to get my senses. I have my phone and can call for help. If I knew anyone inside the house’s number. In fact, I don’t even know the house number. Why didn’t I think to add it to my contacts? I stare at the door, uncertain what to do. What is wrong with me? Am I losing my mind like Laura?
I refuse to be like her, and take a firm grasp on the door handle and pull. Nothing. I try again, this time pushing one foot against the wall for leverage. The door releases so fast I stumble back and sit down hard on the dusty floor. I jump to my feet to dash through the opening but it hits me in the back, pushes me out into the hallway, and slams shut behind me. It’s as if the room didn’t want me inside. I stand breathing heavily andstaring at the door. Jack’s warning echoes in my mind. What is it about the third floor that makes him hesitant to renovate it? What isn’t he telling me?
I move my flashlight along the hallway and regain my courage. Sure, the room unsettled me but I’m determined not to allow my imagination to run riot. I need to see the fifth room for my own peace of mind and walk to the end of the hallway, my light bobbing in front of me. I find the fifth door and open it with ease. As before, the furniture is covered but just as Laura mentioned in her diary, there’s only one window. I’m not going inside. I’m not that stupid. I shut the door and stand in the hallway, moving my flashlight around. At this end of the hallway, the dust is minimal. I go to examine the walls where a sixth bedroom should be but a strange grinding sound stops me in my tracks. Maybe that’s the tree branches scratching the windows or rats living inside the walls?
What is moving the dust and slamming the doors? I figure the wind is likely blowing down the chimneys—but there’s no fireplaces in the hallway. I walk to the ornate oak panels and run my hand over them. They also look clean. How strange. I scan the carpet. No one has been here or they’d have left footprints like I did. I shake my head. Bill told me the house isn’t haunted. Even so, I don’t like being here and I’m about to head back downstairs when I hear someone singing. I stop midstride and all the hairs on my body stand on end. The sound is gone in a second. Did I imagine it? Are Laura’s words twisting my mind? Maybe, but what if someone doesn’t want me investigating her death and believes that frightening me is a way of making me stop?
TWENTY-NINE
Unsettled, I wait for the children to arrive home. I really want their chatter to wash away the memories of the third floor but Jenny has taken them to visit their grandparents. It’s a regular event that happens every Thursday that nobody mentioned to me. I stare at Sue in disbelief. “Don’t you believe I should be told when the children are going somewhere?”
“I’m sure Jenny would have mentioned it.” Sue gives me a dismissive look. “Maybe it slipped your mind?”
This isn’t happening. Are they gaslighting me and, if so, why? I glance from her to Pierre. “I assume you know as well?”
“I do.” He glances at me over one shoulder. “It’s a regular visit.”
A regular visit and Jack didn’t think to mention it? What’s going on? I can’t believe he or Jenny mentioned it and I was so wrapped up in Laura’s diary I forgot something so important. Or did I? The question hangs in my mind, unsettling me. What is it about this house that sends everyone crazy? No—not everyone—Jack’s wives. Who could possibly benefit by killing his wives? I see the staff staring at me and passing knowing looks between each other as if I’m just another of Jack’s wives that’s lost her mind. Dammit, I won’t allow them to get away with it. I shakemy head. “A regular visit, I should be responsible for. I’m their stepmother. I’ll speak to Jenny when she gets back. What time is she expected?”
“Before eight. The kids have dinner with their grandparents.” Sue checks her watch. “It’s some time before dinner. Would you like a mug of coffee?”
She’s placating me with coffee. How long will it be before someone starts to drug my food too? I try to relax. I’m aware someone drugged Laura and I won’t be such an easy target. I’ll stand and watch her pour me a mug. I nod. “Yes, thanks.” I can’t ignore the sudden coldness from my two employees and it irks me. “Is there anything else I need to know about the children’s movements?”
“You’ll need to speak to Jenny.” Sue lifts one shoulder in a dismissive shrug. “She’ll have all their appointments listed, I’m sure.”
I take the mug and add my own fixings. “I’ll be sure to get a copy to avoid any misunderstandings in the future.” I take my drink and go outside. I find a bench and sit and look at the sea. I need time to think.
When Jack arrives home and asks me what I’ve been doing all day, I tell him about visiting the left wing on the third floor and he is visibly annoyed. I want to explain the reason I went against his advice. “I needed to see for myself, Jack. You know, to put my mind at rest.”
“You should have waited for me to get home.” Jack shakes his head. “Not that I enjoy going up there. It’s better to lock the door and forget it exists. No one has been there for ages. I can’t even imagine what it’s like now.”
I shiver, recalling the harrowing experience. “There’s dust everywhere and spiders. It took all my courage to step inside the hallway. I went into the first room and the door shut behind me and I couldn’t get out. I panicked for a time and almostcalled someone to come and save me but calling the cops or fire department would be a little heavy-handed.” I smile. “As you can see, the door eventually opened and I made it out okay.”
“Oh, Willow. That must have been terrifying for you. I’m glad you’re okay. I’d really advise you to keep away from that floor.” He slides his phone across the dining room table and looks at me with a serious expression. “There could be rot in the floorboards or anything. It might not be safe. Grab all the contacts you need from my phone. Did your laptop arrive?”
I smile at him. I’d spent all afternoon playing with my new toy and downloading the software I require. “Yes, it did. I sent a few messages to my friends in LA, asking them to forward their email addresses, but we do everything by text these days anyway. We’ll chat on FaceTime when they get home. It seems as if everyone is on vacation overseas at the moment. At least, they replied with messages like:Busy having fun, will be in touch soon.”
“Jet-setters, huh?” Jack tucks into his meal.
I finish my meal and collect the contacts I need and then lean back in my chair, staring at my half-eaten food. I notice Jack’s gaze slides to my plate and gives a little shake of his head. “What is it?”
“You’re not eating.” Jack searches my face. “Laura stopped eating too and then she took sick.” His gaze never leaves me. “It’s this old house. It’s depressing. If I hadn’t purchased it, Laura would still be alive.”
I gape at him in disbelief. If she hadn’t died, he’d never have met me. I’m not sure how to take that comment but I feel as if he’s just slapped me in the face. I can’t stand his faux feelings for her. After reading Laura’s diaries, this house was the complete opposite of the Camelot he tried to make me believe it was. “Well, you did buy the house but I can’t see how this old house caused Laura to fall from your yacht. This is just one morereason why you should buy another house, a modern house. Nothing here belongs to your family history; all the portraits apart from Laura’s are strangers. It’s pointless living here. You really need to consider moving and making a fresh start.”
“Maybe.” Jack pointed to my plate. “Is this house discussion to take my attention away from the fact you’re not eating?”
I shake my head. “Don’t be ridiculous, Jack. You know as well as I do that the house is unhealthy. Can you imagine a health inspector coming here? It would be condemned. For the sake of our family’s health, we need to start afresh.”
“Okay, darling.” Jack shakes his head and his mouth curls into a smile. “You’ve made a very good point. Now eat your dinner before it gets cold.”
I push my plate away and look at his stubborn expression. “I don’t clean my plate because the portions are way too large for me. I’ll need to ask Pierre to make them smaller. I had a huge lunch and I always leave room for dessert.” He doesn’t reply so I wait for him to finish eating and sip my water, deciding what else to say about my trip to the forbidden zone upstairs. “The sixth window, on the third floor of the left wing. Why isn’t it attached to a room?”
“Why is that window always such an issue?” He leans back in his chair and wipes his mouth on a napkin. “Laura was obsessed with it and now you go into that filthy hole to look for it as well. As a builder, I’d say it’s there for cosmetic reasons. In my opinion, the left wing on the third floor makes no reasonable sense. Why have five tiny rooms? Why not two large useable rooms or one large one like in the right wing? The ballroom is there and it has six windows.” He gives me a withering look. “About the sixth window. I figure they added another window on the left side to balance the appearance of the house. It goes nowhere and backs onto the brick as far as I’m aware. Laura told me she saw a face at the window. It must be a trick of the lightbecause it’s impossible. I asked the window cleaner and he told me inside was painted black. I guess that was done to make it look the same as the others.”
