‘Good,’ he began. ‘I am ready to start loading up the car, just wanted to see how you were doing.’ He paused and then added, ‘Up here.’
‘Almost done,’ I confirmed. ‘Just need to grab a few things from the bathroom then I am ready to go.’ This was the truth in many ways. Taking the job seemed like a fresh start, a new beginning and a chance to redeem myself; helping others grow.
‘Great, I will start loading everything in then,’ he smiled, proceeding back across the creaky floorboards and down the stairs, this time almost sounding jubilant in his step.
I threw the last of my belongings, toiletries, a modest amount of makeup and hair accessories into the last box and attempted to carry it downstairs. I had not got very far when my recently stitched wound smarted in protest; thankfully, Nicholi was there to relieve me of my load, and carried it to join the small gathering of boxes in the Range Rover.
All of my belongings were now perched in the back of the car and ready for their new beginning just as much as I was. Jessica had not collected her belongings yet, so had agreed to clean the house ready for when our mutual friend would come and give the keys to the realtor, as the house had been sold while I was in the hospital.
I locked the door, checking the handle to ensure it had sealed itself from the outside world, and threw the keys through the letterbox. I heard them scuttle across the floor and hit the living room door before I walked away, turning to take one last look at the house as I made my way towards the car. My time there had been a mixed bag of emotions and I felt ready to leave, though a little nostalgic at the same time.
Nicholi was waiting by the car door to open it for me and I climbed in, this time reaching for the seat belt before sitting, so I could secure myself in without searing pain or the embarrassment of Nicholi having to assist me. I prided myself on my ability to take care of myself and felt uncomfortable with all the assistance I was requiring at the moment to complete basic tasks. I knew deep down it would not be a lengthy convalescing process, but was eager all the same to return to my normal functional self. Nicholi climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine.
‘Ready to leave?’ he clarified. I nodded in response and he pulled out onto the road to complete our journey back to the mansion house.
Nicholi had put the radio on, and I was so grateful as I just wanted to sit lost in thought and not have to make polite conversation. Maybe he did too, I am not sure, but before I knew it, we were turning in, the gates towering over us, even in the Range Rover. He hit a button on the control panel in the car and the gates obediently responded, opening inwards for our final drive of the day. We arrived at the entrance of the house shortly after, with Earl as the welcoming party, though he certainly did not look any happier to see me than he ever had.
Nicholi arranged with him for my belongings to be transported upstairs and we followed, him loaded with two boxes, me just carrying my bag.
‘Okay,’ Nicholi began, placing the boxes down on the floor. ‘I need to get back to the office now.’ I was not sure if he meant the downstairs office or an office, whose location was yet unknown.
‘Is there anything you need before I go?’ clarifying that he was in fact leaving the house shortly. ‘Earl, once he has brought everything upstairs, will also be leaving for the day so you will be home alone.’
‘No, I’m good thanks,’ I replied, a little excited about the exploration of the rest of the house that would ensue, once I had confirmed I was definitely alone.
‘Great, here is a welcome gift bag.’ Nicholi handed me a blue bag. ‘It’s just a few things to get you acquainted,’ he continued, perhaps noting my surprise at receiving the gift bag. ‘I just need to show you the alarm system and then I will leave,’ he gestured for me to follow and we proceeded downstairs to the alarm panel by the front door.
‘Now, Sophia,’ he began. ‘I am an easy going guy generally, but there is one thing that I must insist on.’ His formality and change of tone made me straighten up to give my complete attention. ‘The alarm must always be set at all times.’ He handed me a booklet to peruse at my leisure, with each specific setting that I needed to learn in order to operate the alarm system effectively.
‘It must be set Sophia, okay?’ He looked at me so seriously it was though our lives depended on it.
‘Absolutely, got it, no problems.’ I emphasised my understanding with clarity and followed his demonstration with eagerness. I finally had to place my thumb to be read by the machine and the process was complete.
‘Right then, I shall see you this evening, any problems or questions just give me a call,’ he smiled, and opened the door to leave.
‘Thank you,’ I spluttered out. ‘For today I mean, for moving me.’ I was getting less and less coherent.
‘No problem, see you later,’ he replied and closed the door behind him.
I was alone for the first time since this morning and suddenly felt a little uneasy. I shook my head and took a deep breath to steady myself; after all what was I afraid of. With a security system like this, no one was getting in here uninvited. With that in mind, I proceeded to set the alarm, following the demonstration I had received to the letter. It was a very sophisticated alarm, much more high tech than I had used before, but user friendly enough that I managed to complete the task without issue. I waited for the resounding beep to confirm we were in action and headed upstairs to my room.
Earl, before leaving for the day, had stacked my belongings neatly, ready for me to commence the unpacking process. I removed my shoes and perched on the edge of the bed initially, realised how amazingly comfortable it was, and gently flopped back. I was for sure going to get the best night sleep ever in this bed. The mattress was luxuriously padded and the bed linen felt divine against my bare arms, I could quite easily have fallen asleep then and there. Pulling myself back up reluctantly, I saw the gift bag Nicholi had presented me with and dipped my hand inside to pull out its contents.
A cell phone was the first item I removed, and upon checking it I noted that it had already been programmed with telephone numbers, namely Nicholi’s, his brother Cross, the children’s grandmother, paediatrician and an unknown named Mr Bacci. I would clarify with Nicholi who that number belonged to later. The next thing I saw was so creative and beautiful I could not help but smile in response. It was a photo book, the kind that you can find online, personalising to your requirements, and this was no exception. It was filled with pictures of Jacob, Nicholi’s son and Max, Cross’s son, from toddlers to the present day. There were little comments throughout detailing various likes, dislikes and interests. It was such a wonderful and useful idea; I felt I already knew the children, though I had not met them yet. Sensing the bag had reduced significantly in size, I tipped out the remaining contents onto the bed.
A set of house and car keys followed by a wristwatch landed on the bed. This perplexed me initially, but seeing the handwritten post-it note that had inadvertently become detached during my dumping process, the mystery was solved. The watch was in actual fact a normal wristwatch, but with the added function that it served as a personal safety alarm. Nicholi had such elegant penmanship, I noted, looking at the note closely and fastening the watch to my wrist. I was a little surprised by this gift, but after seeing his reaction with the alarm system, he clearly was all about safety, and given the fact I would be taking care of his child, I felt it only right to respect his wishes and wear it.
Surveying the room now and seeing the brown cardboard boxes eagerly waiting to be opened, I began the unpacking process. Hanging my clothes in the closet was laughable, given that I had barely taken up a quarter of the room available. Plenty of room for storage, I mused. I arranged my toiletries and make up in the bathroom, as little hands love to explore, so I thought that would be safer, rather than on the vanity in the bedroom area, and heaved a sigh of relief when I placed my books and DVDs onto the shelving unit. Turning back around I noticed something I had not seen when I first viewed the room t
his morning. To the side of the room was an alcove, which held a full-length mirror. It looked a little out of place and not where you would have naturally thought to place a mirror, but my eagerness to explore the rest of the house while I was alone was too strong to be held off any further.
I proceeded out of my room, closing the door quietly behind me and onto the main first floor hallway. The boys’ room was directly opposite mine and I could see two further doors ahead and stairs behind me to the next floor. I walked down to the remaining two doors on my floor, and after discovering a further closet and guest room decided to venture upstairs. Part of me felt a little guilty for snooping, but at the same time I would be respectful, I was not going to be rooting through drawers, just a little curious about my new home.
I felt I had justified the decision enough and proceeded upstairs. The interior of the house was just as spectacular as outside. Waterford crystal chandeliers illuminated the way, with delicate mouldings and cornices covering the ceilings and walls. I made my way up to the second floor and upon trying the first door and discovering it was locked, my upstairs expedition came to an abrupt halt. It was wrong to snoop, and this proved it, so instead I decided to take a long bath and just relax; this had been quite a day.
Returning to my room, I began to run the water, filling the bathtub with the strawberry bubble bath that had been provided, and undressed. I made sure to keep the water level low enough that my shoulder could be kept dry and slowly immersed myself into the water. I felt instantly revived, being in water always had that effect on me. I lay back as much as I could and let the strawberry-infused water work its magic.
I lay there for about an hour before the undeniable sound of my stomach growling declared it time to eat. I normally, after bathing, would have put my pyjamas on, but given that Nicholi had said he would be back this evening I opted for leggings, a loose-fitting shirt and socks. Climbing down the stairs I realised I had no clue where the kitchen was and would have to explore, albeit inadvertently, but I felt that was a justified intrusion and reached the ground floor.
The lower hallway was just as extravagantly decorated as the rest of the house I had seen so far. The customary chandeliers illuminating the way forward, hard wood floor polished so effectively that had it not been for my injury I would have happily slid across in my socks; note to self, try when healed. The drapes that hung from the two almost floor-length windows were crimson with gold swirls that on closer inspection, it actually looked like real gold thread had been used to make the elaborate design, almost theatrical in nature. I could just imagine them opening on stage to a Broadway show or ballet. Thinking of ballet, I felt a twinge inside, the memory of what was and could have been, but swept it back as quickly as the hair that had fallen from my soft bun.
My stomach growled again, getting more impatient, clearly not appreciating the interior design as much as I was, and the hunt for the kitchen resumed. It was surprisingly easy to find, given that most kitchens are usually towards the rear of the property and it only took two door openings to find it; much to my dismay, my exploration had ended abruptly again.
The first door I had opened would be my next designation, once I had secured some dinner. The room certainly looked like the children used it considerably with a vast array of toys, creative play activities and an inviting sofa with a plasma screen, this time hung above the grand fireplace, no weird portraits in this room. There was an antique rocking horse in the corner, black with what looked like real horse hair. Its leather saddle worn from many play time hours, I am sure, and its bridle glinted in the setting sunlight just breathing out that last ray before it was drawn away for the day.
To the left of the playroom was the kitchen, and it was breath-taking. The cabinets, a dark brown oak colour, were exquisitely designed with fine detailed etching, bordering all around. There was a large island in the middle with a black and white granite top and three range cookers against the back wall. The pots and pans were hung above the cookers on a metal bar and this, along with the cookers and the refrigerator, were the only modern looking parts of the kitchen. Glass cabinets holding fine china encased the refrigerator and a collection of cookbooks lined one shelf opposite the island, with the coffee maker resting in an alcove between two imposing pantry-sized cupboards. I was in awe; it was a kitchen fit for nobility. I opened the refrigerator to see what offerings were available and opted for a simple mac and cheese, though the cheese certainly would not have been found in the supermarket I frequented, nor the fresh macaroni.
I prepared my meal as cleanly as possibly, making extra in case Nicholi wanted to eat when he came home. I assumed he would eat out at some high-end restaurant every night and mac and cheese would be beneath him. In which case the kids and me could have some for lunch tomorrow, so it would not go to waste. I decided to eat in the kitchen, pulling out one of the chairs that were tucked under the island, and ate my meal. It was delicious and certainly tasted a high-end mac and cheese that would no doubt be called something difficult to pronounce at a restaurant in Manhattan.
After devouring my meal, I washed my dishes and headed back to the playroom. The carpet was so luxurious I took my socks off to sink my feet into the pile, as I wanted to do the first time I came to the house, though that would have been inappropriate then. I noted the vast array of DVDs on the shelf and settled for a romantic comedy and a horror for my evening’s entertainment. I had not noticed at first inspection, the popcorn machine half hidden in an alcove at the back of the room, but upon making this delicious discovery, I made myself a bowlful and settled onto the sofa to relax. I had watched the first movie and noting that it was nine-thirty and Nicholi had not returned, I wondered if he was staying out for the night. I felt very much alone in the great big mansion house, but was comforted by the high tech alarm system, and tried to distract myself by watching a horror movie of all things.
The zombie movie was in full action mode when my eyes started to slowly close. I was too comfortable to move and with that as my last thought I dozed off curled up on the sofa.
I could sense someone was there before I even opened my eyes, but the pull to sleep was so strong I did not want to awaken.
‘Sophia,’ the voice rang out, the sound illuminating my way back. ‘Sophia.’ I felt my arm being stroked, as though to awaken me, but also a little more, and with that thought I quickly opened my eyes, jumping up, my shoulder protesting at the sudden movement.
‘Sorry,’ Nicholi began. ‘I didn’t mean to scare you,’ he reiterated, no doubt due to my astonished expression. ‘I would have left you sleeping, but you looked in a very odd position and I was worried you would regret it in the morning,’ he continued, sensing I was now calming from the upheaval of being disturbed. ‘Were you waiting up for me?’ he asked, and the corner of his mouth curled with such a smile that I could not help but smile back.
‘I was watching a movie and must have fallen asleep,’ I confirmed. It was the truth, but deep down had I been waiting for him to come home? Pondering this and not wanting to know the real answer I quickly excused myself, explaining about the leftover mac and cheese located in the fridge, and headed up to my room, closing the door quietly behind me. I looked at myself in the mirror; face flushed, eyes glowing, my heart dancing in my chest. Was all this because Nicholi had returned home? I took a deep breath, gathered my pyjamas and began my night time routine of cleansing, moisturising, brushing my teeth and hair before climbing into bed. I literally had to climb up, the mattress was so thick, but once I was in and pulled the covers over me, I had never felt so comfortable. Sinking into the supportive, yet yielding enough mattress, that I could mould into it and let sleep take me once again. I was just nodding off when the cell phone beeped; a text message, I assumed, and sat up in bed to retrieve the phone that had been lying on the nightstand.
Just wanted to say goodnight, the message declared, illuminating the once pitch black room. It was from Nicholi and I again felt myself flush. I replied with a simple, Go
odnight and lowered myself back into the mould I had made, this time cocooning myself in the covers the way I had done since I was a child, and drifted off to sleep.
The Arrival
Something made me stir around two am, the sound of hushed voices dissipating quickly, footsteps on the hardwood floor. Footsteps that only a woman who was wearing heels would make, I sat upright immediately, disorientated by the surrounding view. It took a few seconds for the signals to spark and generate current, to nourish the cells sufficiently enough that the memories would come into focus. The darkness that had once filled the room was slowly being evaporated with the light from the hallway trying to breach underneath the doorway. I reached for the cell phone that had been resting on the nightstand and climbing down out of bed, crept towards my bedroom door.
‘Be quiet,’ the lowered masculine voice demanded. ‘You’re going to wake the whole house and that would be really bad.’
‘I can be so bad,’ the voice, teasing and certainly feminine, rang out seductively.
‘Can it, you two,’ a stern voice, masculine and certainly one that I had not forgotten continued.
‘You don’t want to wake big bad brother up,’ he teased, though appearing to acknowledge, albeit resentfully, Nicholi as an authoritative figure.
‘God, you’re no fun,’ the woman moaned back, before a stifled scream echoed through the once deserted hallway.
‘Sorry,’ the voice was so low I had to really strain to hear. ‘It was a joke, that’s all.’ The voice cracked, and it sounded like she was sobbing.
‘Now you will show respect, won’t you, Teresa?’ another masculine voice proclaimed, and laughed maniacally before they were ushered into a room and the door closed, silence resumed.
What the hell was that? I had not recognised Nicholi as any of the voices and given the, waking up big brother comment I could only assume Cross had returned with his friends, maybe. It sounded disturbing, and rage was beginning to build up. I could feel my pulse echoing through the once peacefully quiet room and decided I would confront them. Not thinking of the fact I was only wearing pyjama shorts and a vest top with bare feet, I grabbed the umbrella that had been nestled in my closet and ran downstairs to try to locate the group.
In The End (Butterfly #1) Page 4