In a way, it was the family tree. Going all the way back to Eileen Crawley at the top of the page, the family had survived through the birth of ‘only’ children—all daughters. Not that she and Mike hadn’t tried to have more kids; both of them were bawdy lovers with healthy appetites.
She grimaced a little at the ironic thought ‘God didn’t bless us with any more.’ Still, from the first time she thumbed this book open as a child, she could not understand why it also bore a name off to the side of the page in parentheses—‘Eamon Crawley.’ Who was he? And why was a single line drawn through that name with a different pen? His name was inscribed in the timeline between the matriarch, Eileen’s and her Nan’s own name. Who was that guy?
Not for the first time had the mystery of Eamon intrigued her. She talked about this mystery entry with her own mom a few times but had hit a brick wall. Even when she was alive, her Nan wouldn’t discuss him. Neither woman knew anything about the mysterious Eamon.
She rubbed her finger over the name inscribed in the vellum and the hair on the back of her neck stood up. ‘T’was a sweet name’ whispered in her head. ‘He will guard the riches of this house forever! Eaaaamonnnn.’
Her eyes took on a diamond glitter.
“Of course,” she whispered.
The pug at her feet stirred, then sat up suddenly with a soft whine, snapping her out of her reverie.
Maureen sighed and tossed the afghan aside. “Do you need to go out?” She set the book on the floor and tramped after the small pooch, down the hall to the back door. She flipped the deadbolt and opened it, clutching her robe tighter to her throat.
The dog darted by her leg, and scampered to the edge of the patio where it hunkered down to do its business. Mission accomplished, it darted back into the house and she closed the door and bolted it shut. When she turned to go back into the kitchen, the dog was at her feet, the hackles on its back standing high and stiff. She bent down and scratched behind its ear. “It’s okay, girl. You’re okay.”
She went back into the kitchen and topped up the glass of wine. Instead of setting the bottle back in the fridge, she took it into the living room and set it on the coffee table. The first glass of wine had settled in and her muscles were beginning to feel heavier and much looser. She snuggled into the sofa, pulling the afghan over her, and reaching for the Bible.
She finished the bottle of wine and climbed the stairs to go back up to bed. The wine and the reading had done the trick, making her drowsy enough that creaking floorboards and the wailing wind outside wouldn’t keep her from passing out. She glanced at the clock. It was almost three in the morning. If she was lucky, Gillian and Sarah would let her sleep in.
Chapter 35
The patter of Sarah’s bare feet in time with the click, click of the dog’s toenails on the hardwood floor intruded on Gillian’s sleep. The door opened and Sarah rushed over and hopped up onto the bed, snuggling in next to her, the dog right behind. Gillian’s arm curled over her daughter and she kissed the top of her head. “Hi moppet. How’d you sleep with Pearl on your bed? Did she keep you up?”
Sarah sat up and hugged Pearl to her chest. “She was quiet as anything, Mommy!”
Pearl began wagging her tail and straining forward to lick Sarah’s face. Gillian’s hand drifted to its head and scratched behind its ear. The dog hadn’t been there twenty-four hours yet, but already it was right at home.
“She probably needs to go outside for a pee. I’d better get up.” She stretched her arms above her head and yawned loudly. The wood floor was cool on her feet when she swung her legs over the side of the bed.
When Gillian rounded the newel post of the stairway, she glanced across at her mother’s room. The closed door told her Mom was still asleep. By the time Gillian was down the stairs, Sarah was on tiptoes, straining to reach the deadbolt latch on the back door. Gillian smiled and ambled down the hallway to help her.
When the door flung open, the dog rushed out but stopped at the edge of the patio. It turned and raced back into the house, hackles raised, letting out a low whine.
Gillian’s eyebrows drew together as she bent down to pat the dog’s head. The poor little thing’s eyes were huge and its tail was between its legs.
“What’s out there, girl?” She stepped down onto the patio and looked around. The yard was still. Pearl was at the door, hunkered down on her belly watching her. She walked down toward the end of the backyard, and when she got to the swing, from the door the puppy let out a yip. Scanning the rest of the yard from the maple tree, she didn’t see anything out of place.
Maybe the dog hadn’t settled in as fast as she’d first thought. Returning to the house, she scooped Pearl up and carried her into the kitchen, rubbing its head. Sarah had the bag of kibble under her arm, scooping some out to put into the dog’s dish.
“Maybe after breakfast, we should take Pearl for a walk in the park. Dogs need exercise for them to do all their business.” Gillian wandered to the counter and poured a cup of coffee from the gurgling machine.
Sarah sat crossed-legged on the floor petting the dog as it snuffed and snaffled at its food. “You mean for them to poop, right?”
“You got it.” Gillian opened the fridge door and reached inside for the carton of coffee cream. Her mouth gave a slight upward twitch when she saw the empty space where the bottle of wine had been. Sleeping in or sleeping it off, Mom?
***
An hour later Gillian and Sarah, led by the dog entered the front door of the house. Music drifted from the kitchen followed by the beeping sound of the microwave finishing its cycle.
Sarah grinned up at her mother. “Nana’s up.” She raced down the hall with the dog bounding after her.
When Gillian walked into the kitchen her mother was sitting at the table with a mug of coffee set in front of her. Gillian’s eyebrows drew together. “Hi. Did you just get up? That’s late for you, isn’t it?” There were dark circles under her mother’s eyes and her skin looked kind of pasty.
Maureen nodded and took a long swallow of coffee watching Sarah fill the dog’s water bowl at the sink. “I didn’t sleep well last night. I got up and had a couple glasses of wine.”
Gillian laughed and took a seat across from her. “Yeah, from the look of you I didn’t think you had a cup of warm milk.”
Maureen set the mug down and sighed. “I feel like I’ve been hit by a Mack truck. Gosh, I’m tired.”
“That’s ‘cos you’re hung-over,” Gillian said, with a smug smile. “You’re not a regular drinker, and there was a fair bit of wine in that bottle.”
Maureen nodded. “Guilty as charged. I’ll feel better after a shower and something to eat.”
“Why don’t you take it easy today? Sit and read a book or surf the web or something. I’m going out to pick up some paint for Sarah’s room. She can come with me and we’ll be out of your hair for a while.”
Her mother exhaled slowly and her eyes were kind of hollow when she looked across the table. She turned her head when her granddaughter took a seat at the table. “Sarah, if you look at the old book which is on my night table, you have to be very careful. It’s really old and you can’t just leave it lying around on the floor.”
“I didn’t do that. I don’t go in your room.”
Maureen’s eyes narrowed and she sat forward. “Oh? So it jumps onto the floor by itself?”
“I don’t like your room, Nana! Even Pearl doesn’t like your room!” The little tyke’s lips were pursed together and she looked straight into her grandmother’s eyes.
Maureen slapped the tabletop. “Enough of ye’er brass! Ye and that filthy cur stay out of me room ye bloody blaggard!”
Sarah’s eyes widened and filled with tears and Pearl let out a soft moan from her dog dish. “Nana…”
“Hey, Mom…” Gillian said softly. “Take it easy…” ‘What the heck’s a blaggard?’ she wondered.
Maureen shook her head and took Sarah’s hand. “I’m sorry, Sarah… I’m not feeling
too good this morning.” She turned to Gillian. “If it wasn’t her, then who was it? You? Me? C’mon, Gillian…”
“I won’t ever, ever go in your room, Nana! I promise!” Sarah was on the verge of tears. Maureen reached over and gave her arm a squeeze.
Watching them, Gillian knew Sara was telling the truth. She was always able to tell when Sarah fibbed or didn’t tell the whole story. This wasn’t one of those times. Gillian sat up straighter in the chair. “Mom, remember that day we heard the loud bang upstairs? And we found your Bible was laying open behind your door? Sarah was down here when that happened.”
Still stroking Sarah, Maureen waved her hand. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. I’ve put it up on the top shelf in the living room bookcase anyway.”
Gillian nodded. This wasn’t worth making things worse right now. Mom’s hangover was giving her temper an edge, so she decided to let it slide. “Is it okay if we leave the dog with you while we’re out? We’ve taken her for a walk so she shouldn’t be a bother.” Gillian rose to her feet and walked to the counter to get her cell phone from the charger.
“It’s fine.” Her mother went back to sipping her coffee.
Sarah looked up at her mother, her eyes wide and solemn. Gillian ruffled her hair and winked at her before picking up her purse.
“Will you pop into the liquor store and pick up another bottle of wine? It helped me get to sleep last night.” Maureen rose and refilled her mug with coffee.
“Sure.” Gillian turned and took Sarah’s hand, leading her down the hallway. “We’ll see you later!” The words were more cheerful than the lump of worry in her gut.
When they were outside, Sarah tugged at her arm and looked up at her, the usual smile on her face no longer there. “Nana’s wrong. I didn’t touch her book, Mommy.”
She leaned over and kissed the top of her daughter’s head and pulled her in tight to her body in a swift hug. “I know, moppet. Sometimes grown-ups make mistakes and forget things. I think that’s what happened today. She made a mistake. But remember, she loves you.”
“Very well, I suppose.” Sarah looked up at her mother, her eyes like diamonds. “She was quite wroth with me. She was as frightful as Bridey.”
Gillian stopped dead in her tracks.
“What did you say?”
Sarah blinked twice. “I said I didn’t touch her book.”
“No, after that, about being wroth.”
Sarah tilted her head. “What’s a wroth?”
Gillian huffed a sigh. “It’s an old-fashioned word.” Taking Sarah by the hand, she said, “Let’s go get the paint.” Skip it. Imaginary friends, a hungover mother and she had a room to paint. It was going to be a long day.
Chapter 36
Later that day, Sarah sat on the swing in the backyard. She could see her mother through the window in her room, rolling pink paint onto the walls. Nana was in the dining room looking at her laptop. She’d been kind of quiet when they’d gotten home. It seemed like she was still a little mad about that book.
Pearl sat next to the back door, her head turned up watching it. No matter how hard she’d coaxed, the dog wouldn’t leave the patio area. The dog shivered even though it was a warm day and once or twice she’d let out a soft whiny sound.
“Hi Sarah.”
Sarah jumped and had to grab the swing’s rope tighter to keep from falling off. Agnes’ face appeared right next to her own, her eyes narrow and laughing. “Hi Agnes. Where’s Alice?”
“Boo!” Alice popped out from behind the tree, her dark shoes landing next to Sarah’s feet.
The dog let out a louder whine and scratched at the door, her tail curled between her legs.
“Is that your dog? I don’t think it likes us.” Agnes took a few steps closer to the patio, and giggled when the dog began to scratch and whine louder.
Sarah was about to run over to let the dog in when Alice spoke. “Agnes! Come back here! Hurry!”
Agnes spun around, and grabbed Alice’s hand. Together they darted behind the tree.
The back door opened and Maureen appeared, casting a nasty look over at Sarah before the dog scampered inside.
Sarah slipped forward off the swing’s seat and scampered round the tree. “Why’d you do that?”
“Do what?” Alice’s fingers slipped inside the collar of her dress and she scooped out a silver chain. A ray of sunshine glinted off the metal she held between her fingers.
Sarah leaned forward and her mouth fell open. “I have one like that.” She fished the St. Jude medallion from the front of her T-shirt. “See?”
Agnes stepped closer and reached for it. “That’s mine.” Her eyes were narrow and her lips were a pouty line.
Sarah jerked back at the same time as Alice spoke. “No Agnes. It’s Sarah’s. Don’t be mean. You scare me when you act like that.” She turned and like flipping a switch, her face brightened into a wide grin. “Mine is engraved on the back.” She twisted it in her fingers and leaned closer to Sarah.
“A. C.” Sarah recognized the letters on the medallion. Her eyes grew wide and she smiled. “Mine too! That’s what mine says!”
“Of course it does.” Agnes’ arms crossed over her chest and her shoulders jerked low. “The man stole it from me. Now you have it. That’s not fair!”
Alice turned to her sister and cupped her hands over her twin’s ear, whispering something. Whatever it was, made Agnes smile and nod her head.
She turned to Sarah and her hand reached out to grip Sarah’s forearm. “Can you keep a secret?”
Sarah’s eyes lit up. A secret! She loved secrets even though she knew she couldn’t keep one if someone tickled her. “What is it?” There she hadn’t lied.
Alice pointed to the top floor, to the half-moon window tucked under the eaves. “If you were to make that your bedroom, we could visit you there.”
Sarah’s mouth closed and she thought. She had a Berenstain Bears book about Sister Bear having friends over for a sleepover. Was that what Alice meant? In the book it had been lots of fun even though Brother played tricks on the girls.
“A sleepover? Your mom would let you stay the night? I’m sure my mommy wouldn’t mind. She’s really nice. So is my nana usually, but not today. Today she’s mad at me. She thought I was playing with her book when I wasn’t. Honest.”
“We know.” Agnes reached for Sarah and put her arm over the tyke’s shoulders.
Sarah’s eyebrows drew together. “How did you know that?”
Alice looked down at the ground for a moment and her blue eyes were sad looking at Sarah. “She’s in Bridey’s room, silly!” She rolled her eyes when Agnes poked her in the ribs. “I mean Mother’s room.”
Agnes squeezed Sarah’s shoulder. “You sleep in the nursery. It’s a nice room.”
Sarah took Alice’s hand so the three of them were joined. “I wish you’d come inside and meet my mommy. I told her about you but I can tell she thinks I’m making it up.”
The twins looked at each other, and their lower lips extended in a small pout. “We can’t.” Alice kicked at the ground with the toe of her shoe.
“If I move into that room at the top... you can then?” Sarah’s voice was hopeful and her eyes were round as dinner plates.
Agnes nodded. “Let’s play hopscotch.”
Chapter 37
Maureen sighed and rose from her chair at the dining room table. The dog’s scratching at the door was not only a distraction but it was probably ruining the door with its nails. The smell of fresh paint drifted into her nostrils as she walked down the hall. At the foot of the stairs, she called up to her daughter. “Gillian? Would you please open a window and close the bedroom door?”
The Haunting of Crawley House (The Hauntings Of Kingston Book 1) Page 20
