She followed him, her eyes watching for anything creepy-crawly. Hah! She stifled a chuckle at the thought. Wouldn’t Sarah think that was funny—creepy-Crawley. Probably her mom wouldn’t, but it was still funny.
The entire cellar was finished, after a fashion. The floor was cement, and the foundation stones she could see had been painted at one time. The furnace didn’t look too old and had been set on a slab of concrete. The light hanging from the ceiling wasn’t the brightest, leaving the corners of the room in dank shadow.
She walked past the furnace following Jeremy to the electrical panel. As he explained about tripped breakers or something, her gaze went around the room. Washing machine hookups and an old wooden counter lined one wall.
She wandered over to them while Sloat returned to the bottom of the stairs. Without warning, a chill went up her spine and she shuddered. No freaking way was she going to have the washer and dryer set up down here. The kitchen had plenty of room for them, thank God. The cellar made her uneasy… there could be rats or something equally disgusting! There was no way she’d ever go down to the basement unless she absolutely had to. She turned and scampered up the stairs, suppressing another shudder.
Going now to the front of the house, Jeremy strode by her and his hand swept the air. “The dining room. The wall sconces are original, antiques actually.” He stepped next to the archway leading out to the hall and flipped a switch.
The room seemed to glow golden from the amber glass in the wall lights. A light scent crossed her nostrils and she sniffed. Roses? She looked over to Jeremy, but he didn’t seem to notice it as he continued playing tour guide.
“Across the hall is the living room or as it was probably referred to once, the parlor.” He led the way past the large stairway and into the other half of the house. With a flourish, he waved his arm at the room and stepped back, so she entered first.
“Oh my.” Gillian stared down at the room which ran the whole length of the house. The floors once more were hardwood and there were windows at each end of the room casting a dull grayish light into the space. In the center, set in the far wall was a fireplace. It was framed with a thick mantel at the top and two wide oak boards down the sides. An iron grate sat in the tiled cove, flanked by a large metal poker.
How nice would it be to set a couple sofas near it, the fire blazing while the three of them sipped hot chocolate.
“Well?” said Sloat.
“We’ll take it!” she replied. She jumped at the loud bang, like a gunshot. It had come from the back of the house. She looked at Jeremy; he was stock-still looking toward the back of the house. “What the hell was that?”
Sloat sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. Opening them, he looked over at her. “Probably just the wind blowing a door open. I’ll check.” He was back in a minute or two. “Just like I said. It is a fairly old home, built in the early twenties, I think. The door didn’t latch properly. That sort of thing happens.” He reached into the pocket of his sports jacket and pulled out a set of papers and a pen. “Ready to sign your life away?”
She took the paperwork and pen, and walked over to the fireplace mantle. ‘Sign my life away’? What an odd way of putting it. But then again, Sloat was a little odd.
Chapter 25
About ten minutes later, Maureen drove into the wide driveway which ran down the side of the house to the fenced-in backyard. She and Sarah stepped onto the front porch and Gillian appeared in the open doorway, bounding across the veranda. “Isn’t this place something else? I can’t wait for you to see it!”
Sarah ran past her mother into the house. “I want to see my room!” She raced up the steps and into the house.
“My, oh my…” Maureen’s mouth fell open, when she stepped into the foyer and saw the grand staircase.
“And that’s just the start!” Gillian pointed to the parlor. “There’s a working fireplace! Isn’t that great?”
Maureen smirked. “Sure, as long as you’re the one hauling the wood in February!”
Gillian returned the smirk. “At five hundred bucks a month rent, it’s going to be Duraflame logs for this girl!”
Sarah called from the top of the stairs. “Nana! Come see, come see!”
The two women headed up the stairs. Sarah stood in the open doorway, her eyes bright above a wide grin. Maureen followed the child into the room, already sizing the space up for the bed, dresser and desk. It was plenty big enough to accommodate everything, with lots of room left over. She wandered over to the window and looked down into the backyard.
“I asked the guy about painting and wallpapering. They are totally fine with it, as long as we don’t paint a really dark color.” Gillian stepped into the room and swung Sarah up and onto her hip. “What do you think moppet? What color would you like your room?”
“Pink! It has to be pink.” She hugged her mother and then squirmed to be let down again.
“Look at those baseboards. They don’t make trim the way they used to, back when this house was built.” Maureen glanced at the walls and ceiling, looking for cracks or any sign of damage. “Pink would be an improvement to the bland off-white.”
“Let’s take a look at your room, Mom,” Gillian said. “It’s on the other side of the hall.” They stepped out and down the hall to the room which overlooked the street.
“There’s a ton of space in here.” Gillian’s head pulled back from peering into the closet and she wandered over to the window. “And the street is quiet. Plus the park across the way is pretty.” She gave a cheesy grin. “Just like country living, but in the city!”
Maureen forced a smile. Gillian was trying to sell her on the room, hoping she’d like it.
“I think the room’s a good size and the view is great. But I agree with Sarah, it needs some color and life.” She smiled and ruffled Sarah’s hair as the young girl bounded by.
“Show her your room, Mommy!”
Gillian’s lips spread into a wide grin. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’d like the master bedroom. It will work out better for studying. You two can watch TV downstairs and I won’t be distracted or nagging you about the volume.”
Maureen patted her daughter’s shoulder. “This move is for you, Gillian, finishing your education. Of course I don’t mind.” Gillian smiled and walked out of the room. “The bathroom is nice. It’s got a big old clawfoot bathtub and shower.” Maureen followed Gillian, poked her head in the bathroom, taking in the beautiful old tub and the newer fixtures of the toilet and sink. It was actually a lot more up-to-date than the one at the farm.
She walked down the hall and into the spacious bedroom which would be Gillian’s. Wow! It was half again as big as the one she would have, tons of room for a desk, queen-sized bed and dresser. The window overlooked the street and the park.
She paused for a moment, and looked around. “Gillian, what about the top floor? Where are the stairs going up there?”
Gillian put her hands on her hips and her head bobbed forward, a frown on her face. “Yeah. I asked the guy about that. He said it’s been closed off for years and years. They never reopened it for some reason. He wasn’t sure why; I think it had something to do with insurance.” She wandered into the hall and tapped a spot on the wall. “I think the stairway is behind this wall.”
“That doesn’t make much sense. You would think using every room in the house would be important. After all the university had rented the house to students.”
“Yeah, you’d think so, but Mr. Sloat just left it at that.” Gillian shook her head and shrugged. “Whatever. We’ve got plenty of space without it and we’re just renting it anyway. Hopefully they won’t sell it before I’m done school in four years.”
Maureen sighed. “I hope we won’t have people traipsing through, looking to buy it. That could be a nuisance.” She walked out of the room, following Sarah. “Let’s see the rest of it and then have lunch. I picked up some burgers and fries.”
Her hand trailed over the thick wooden banister as sh
e walked down the stairs. It was a period home, that was obvious and the craftsmanship of the woodwork and stairs was impressive. For sale, huh? Maybe she’d have to think about that.
Chapter 26
Fine! Nana wouldn’t let her help her wash the floor in her bedroom and now Mommy was mad.
‘I’m not too little to help. I could help her sweep the floor. But she won’t let me.’
Sarah watched her mother push the dirt onto the dustpan. Her eyes were narrow and her arms crossed over her chest. Couldn’t Mommy see how mad she was?
“Hmph!”
Mommy looked over and rolled her eyes. Sarah hated it when she did that. She pushed her lower lip out and huffed a sigh.
“Look Sarah, I know you’re bored. Nana and I need to get this done before the furniture arrives. Why don’t you get your coloring book out?”
“I don’t want to.” She spun around and jerked her shoulders lower. Now she was facing the window. Outside, the swing was swaying slightly. The rain had ended and the sun was shining. “Can I go outside and play?”
Mommy set the broom down and came over to stand next to her. She leaned forward and looked out the window. “As long as you stay in the yard, I’m okay with that.” She took her hand and led the way to the back door.
Sarah squirmed her hand free and raced to the swing. After giving the seat a good swipe with her arm to clear the water drops off, she turned and popped up onto the seat. “Can you push me?”
Mommy walked next to the house, tested the wooden gate and strode over to stand behind her. “I’ll give you some pushes but you’ve got to learn how to pump your legs forward and back to keep yourself going. I’m sorry honey, but I’ve got too much to do to stay out here with you.”
Her hand was on Sarah’s back shoving her forward.”Stretch your legs out when you go up!”
Sarah tried doing that, holding the rope tight.
“Bend your knees each time you come back and when you start to go forward again, stretch your legs out.” Again, she gave Sarah a big push.
After four more big pushes, she walked around to face Sarah. “Keep practicing. Remember, don’t leave the yard. I have to go back inside now.” With that, she turned and went back into the house.
The next few times the swing went forward, weren’t as high as when Mommy had pushed her. She swung my legs out but it didn’t seem to be helping. After a few minutes, she was barely moving. “Hmph!” This was no fun.
She looked at the ground where her feet didn’t quite reach. She kicked her legs back and forth, leaning over, staring at the ground. Darn it. It wasn’t working.
There was a firm touch on the small of her back, pushing her forward. Her head spun around to see.
Two little girls stood behind her, their hands over their mouths hiding the giggles which shook their shoulders.
“Who are you? How’d you get in here?” Sarah kept watching them, as the swing fell back and one of them pushed her again. They looked alike, same short blonde hair, same bow at the side and the same dresses.
“I’m Alice.” The one closest pushed her again and the swing went higher, sailing forward.
“I’m Agnes. We’re sisters. Do you like the swing?” The other girl, her hand on the tree trunk, leaned forward, grinning at her.
“I’m trying to learn how to make myself go higher. Mommy said to pump my legs.” They hadn’t said how they got in the yard. They sure didn’t come in the gate next to the house. She would have seen that. “Where do you live?”
Agnes spun around and cupped her hand next to her sister’s ear, whispering. They both smiled and their gaze followed Sarah, swinging back and forth.
“We used to live here.” Alice’s smile faded and her blue eyes looked down for a moment. “Our papa put up the swing for us.”
“You lived in my house? Where was your room?” Sarah looked at the house and then back to where they stood.
Alice’s hand rose and she pointed, her hand held high before her. “See the top window? That was our room.”
Sarah looked up at the roof of the house and noticed the window tucked in, just below it. She hadn’t seen it before. “Oh. My room is under that, I think. I didn’t see that room when Mommy took Nana and me around. I wonder why she didn’t show it to us. I might have wanted it.”
Agnes’ hands were behind her back, making the puffed sleeves at her shoulders look like small balloons. Her skirt ended at her knees, almost touching high, white socks. She had shiny, black shoes. It was like she was dressed up for church. Sarah had seen pictures of Nana when she was little and she’d had the same kind of dress and socks and shoes.
“Are you going to a party? Where are your sneakers? Does your mommy let you play outside in dresses? Yours is pretty. I’d like a dress like yours.” Sarah gripped the rope harder when Alice once more gave her a big push.
“We’re going out in a boat later. Mommy died and Bridey—”
“You’re not supposed to call her that! Remember? It’s ‘mother’ not Bridey.” Agnes gripped her sister’s arm and shook her. Immediately, Alice looked at the ground and she sniffed.
Sarah’s stomach seemed to sink down into the flat board. Poor Alice. Their mommy died? She turned to look at the house, hoping Mommy would look out the window. She wasn’t going to die, was she?
“Would you like to play jacks?” Agnes reached for the rope and tugged it back, making the swing stop.
“What’s that? I don’t know what jacks is.” Sarah slid forward on the swing and her feet touched the ground.
Alice turned to her sister. “We can’t play that. The jacks are in the house. Let’s play tag.” She tapped her sister’s arm and raced across the yard, calling “Hurry, Sarah!”
There was a tap on Sarah’s shoulder and Agnes laughed. “Tag! You’re It, Sarah!” Her shiny shoes flew behind her as she raced toward her sister.
Sarah grinned watching them crouch next to each other, ready to run at any minute. They laughed and the bows at the sides of their heads looked like they were ready to fall off. This was way better than coloring! Friends! She’d made new friends!
As the children scampered around laughing and squealing, Sarah never noticed that in the bright sunshine, neither Alice nor Agnes cast a shadow.
Chapter 27
Maureen stood up and leaned back to stretch the cramp in her side. Time for a break.
She wandered out of the bedroom and into Sarah’s room. Just a sweeping to get rid of any dust bunnies was all that room needed. Sunlight streamed ribbons into the room and she sauntered over to the window. In the yard below, Sarah darted one way and then raced the opposite, a big grin on her face.
Sarah suddenly stopped, and there was a scowl on her face. She shook her head vigorously. Maureen could hear the child’s raised voice through the glass of the window. “Did not!” she exclaimed. “You’re still it!” Sarah folded her arms and stamped her foot. She flipped her head to the side and cocked it, as if she was listening, then smiled and nodded. In a flash, she spun and ran weaving and ducking to the back of the yard and back, laughing all the while.
Maureen smiled watching her granddaughter’s antics. What the heck was she doing? Was this some sort of game? Whatever it was, she looked like she was enjoying herself. At any rate, she was blowing off energy. The poor kid had been antsy since they started cleaning.
Gillian appeared in the doorway. “I’m done in my room. I want to give the kitchen cabinets a wipe down and then I’ll take Sarah to get some groceries. She’s probably bored as anything.”
The Haunting of Crawley House (The Hauntings Of Kingston Book 1) Page 16