Carlton House

by B. Groves

  A small gold plate adorned the bottom of each portrait.

  Eleanor Jane Carlton – 1861

  Lily’s mouth dropped open in shock. When Mr. Carlton said this house had always been in his family, he hadn’t been kidding.

  Lily moved onto the next portrait. A man in a fancy suit with snow-white hair, leaning on a table and holding a pipe.

  Phillip John Carlton – 1861

  Lily concluded the date had been the year they were painted.

  They must have been married to each other, she thought. And they must have been rich from what she could gather based on their portraits.

  There another portrait next to the older couple. A younger man, perhaps in his early twenties. His clothing showed off a different style. A captain of a ship?

  Shoulder boards decorated the shoulders of the uniform jacket along with gold buttons, gold trim around the sleeves, a starched white shirt complemented by a bow tie.

  Lily’s eyes settled on his face. She sucked in a breath.

  No way.

  She’d only seen Michael Carlton muted by shadows, but the resemblance was uncanny. The wavy hair, the baby blue eyes, the strong nose, and thin lips.

  Lily took a few steps back. There was no way it was him. No way. Their family genes must have been strong for the looks to run in the family after more than a hundred years.

  Lily stepped forward again. She read the gold plate and was almost relieved.

  Phillip Francis Carlton III- 1862

  That definitely wasn’t Michael, but by God, the man almost looked exactly like him.

  Lily turned around from the portrait. She thought she better get a move on before Mr. Carlton came back to the house and caught her snooping around.

  Lily looked towards the far wall and noticed bare spots. Outlines had formed rectangles.

  She realized that’s where portraits used to hang. Her mouth turned down wondering who or what they used to be.

  Maybe they deteriorated over time and Mr. Carlton decided to dispose of them?

  Lily shrugged.

  She was about to step out of the room when she heard a dull thud above her.

  Lily stopped in her tracks.

  What was that? Lily stilled, listening for any sound, but all she heard was her own breathing.

  Thump.

  She stood still listening to the noise.

  Thump.

  Next Lily thought she heard scraping noises above her.

  Once again, the scraping resumed.

  Lily wondered if Mr. Carlton had come home but she missed him.

  Was he working upstairs?

  Lily walked out of the ballroom and back into the foyer. If Mr. Carlton had come home, she would see his car from the dining room.

  She raced into the dining room. She caught a glimpse of the notepad sitting on the table waiting for her but disregarded it.

  Lily made her way to the window.

  Only her car sat in the driveway.

  Chapter 8

  Behind Closed Doors

  Lily raced out of the dining room. She unlocked the entrance and gazed around outside. There was no sign of the Porsche or its owner. The gate was closed.

  Lily shut the door and secured it.

  She shifted her attention to the staircase.

  Mr. Carlton’s warnings about the bedrooms on the second-floor ran through Lily’s mind, but she needed to know where those bangs came from.

  Lily wandered over to the stairs. She gripped the dusty rail and took two steps.

  She paused and listened for any noise. Her eyes fixated on the second-floor landing watching for any movement.

  Lily swallowed hard as she ascended the staircase. Some of them groaned and whined in protest and others never made a sound, making Lily even more paranoid.

  Lily reached the landing and turned to her right. There were several doors on each side of the corridor with an enormous arched window at the end. The runner carpet beneath her feet had patches showing the threads and other places had worn down to the wood floor.

  Lily made her way down the hallway. She noticed a closed door on her left-hand side.

  Taking a deep breath, she grasped the doorknob and turned it.

  The door swung open to reveal a large study. Mr. Carlton had mentioned the study to Lily the day before.

  She didn’t step into the room instead she peered inside from the doorway.

  This room looked like it had been remodeled recently.

  A giant oak desk sat in the middle of the room with an executive office chair, a newer loveseat, and a table sat behind with monitors and other surveillance equipment.

  Lily closed the door, impressed by the room, but didn’t want to enter it because she felt like she was invading Mr. Carlton’s privacy. It looked comfortable and inviting unlike the rest of the house.

  Lily gazed down the rest of the hallway and cringed.

  Cobwebs clung to the walls, the ceiling, and the hanging lights.

  All this dirt and dust explained why Mr. Carlton needed help with cleaning this place up. It would take any one person years to renovate this place to its former grandeur.

  Lily turned to her left and spotted a set of double doors. Lily walked towards the doors when something on her left caught her eye.

  A life-sized portrait of a little boy hung on the wall. Lily guessed the boy had been six or seven years old at the of the painting. He wore a tiny beige suit with black socks that came to his knees and shiny black shoes. His wavy black hair was cut short. His eyes were baby blue, and his cheeks were rosy like he wore blush for the portrait.

  Despite his cuteness, his facial expression caught Lily’s attention. His eyes weren’t staring straight ahead, they had a troubled, faraway look. A wistful yet fearful expression.

  Lily felt her heart go out to the boy. Whatever scared him all those years ago, had been captured by the painter and remained forever on canvas.

  Lily wanted to reach out and touch his face and tell him everything would be all right. She understood that kind of fear. She lived it before child services came that fateful day to remove her from a neglectful home.

  Lily hoped the little boy grew up into a wonderful man and no longer lived in fear. She took a few steps closer and read the gold plate.

  Harry Thomas Carlton—1867

  “Hi, Harry,” Lily said with a smile. “Nice to meet you.” She wondered whose child he had been and why his portrait didn’t hang in the ballroom like the rest of the family.

  Lily turned away from Harry and crinkled her nose. What was that odor? She caught it when she first reached the landing on the stairs.

  The air was laced with a peculiar musky smell, like something decaying inside one of the rooms.

  An old house, she thought, and one in dire need of repair. There could be anything causing that odor.

  Lily turned away from the portrait. Again, the double doors at the end of the hall caught her attention.

  Mr. Carlton’s rules raced through her head. She stood in place in the middle of the hallway, surrounded by silence, speculating if she should take a peek into the rooms.

  Lily listened for any other movement around the house. She only heard the sound of her own breathes entering and exiting her lungs.

  Her heart thumped a little harder as she took her first tentative step towards the double doors.

  Four other rooms dotted each side of the hallway before it ended with the enormous double doors.

  She peered into the first one on her right. It appeared to be an old guest room that consisted of a dresser, two chairs, a small table, and a bed. The bed’s covers were frayed, with the mattress sagging in the middle. No curtains or drapes hung from the windows, just the afternoon light filtering through the grime.

  Lily looked to her left and found the same kind of room with similar décor. This room had a lamp, and an overhead light disguised as a chandelier.

  Lily found a switch on the wall and flicked it. The light worked, but it flickered a
few times.

  Another dresser held candles long since burned down to their bases with wax pooled over the top of the dresser and dried up drips hanging over the edge.

  I have a lot of cleaning to do, Lily thought. She smiled thinking about job security although this big house made her feel uneasy.

  Lily turned off the light and backed out of the room. She walked farther and discovered a bathroom.

  The bathroom’s design suggested an older era, but Lily didn’t know which one. The fifties? The sixties? The walls were pale yellow, and the bathtub and toilet were a horrid matching teal color. The mirror on the wall had gone missing with only an outline left in its place and the wash towels showed signs of deterioration.

  Lily frowned in confusion. This house and its décor made no sense. Some of it was Victorian style, and some of it was more recent, but still did not have modern comforts.

  Why would Mr. Carlton move out of a comfortable cottage and into the house when the work hadn’t started yet? Why did he tell her to stay away from those doors?

  Lily turned to her left. Mr. Carlton told her there were two doors that always remained closed and what he really meant was three.

  The last door on the left must have been that third door.

  Lily approached it and stared at the wood for the longest time. She glanced to her left to make certain Mr. Carlton hadn’t returned home.

  Curiosity and plain nosiness made her grasp the doorknob. She drew in a sharp breath trying to work up the courage to turn the doorknob.

  Taking another deep breath, Lily turned the doorknob.

  Damn! Locked.

  Lily took a few steps back when another noise came through the double doors.

  She turned to face the double doors and her eyes widened. She hadn’t noticed them as she’d gotten closer to the room before but two big padlocks sealed the doors.

  Thoughts raced through her head as she tried to understand why these doors were padlocked.

  The locks looked old and rusty. She reached out to touch one of them when she heard the noise again.

  Lily’s hand hung in mid-air. She strained to listen for the noise again. It wasn’t as loud as it had been when she was exploring the ballroom. It was a scraping noise, but soft and gentle.

  Lily drew closer to the door. She wanted to identify the source of the noise. Why did Mr. Carlton keep these doors padlocked? Wouldn’t this bedroom be the one that was lit up last night? She went back through her memories of the silhouette standing in the window with the dull light shining behind it.

  Yes, this should be the room.

  Lily placed her ear on the wood. The scraping noise stopped. Lilly held her breath to listen. A voice, a footstep… movement of furniture… anything.

  Only silence.

  No. Someone moved near the window last night, she thought. Or maybe Mr. Carlton kept it locked whenever he left the house? That didn’t explain the noise she heard downstairs.

  Lily swallowed and tried to find her voice.

  “Hello?”

  Lily listened for another sound.

  “Is anybody in there?”

  Lily turned away from the door. She didn’t know if she should be relieved or disappointed.

  Lily realized the sun would dip behind the trees soon. She hadn’t even eaten her sandwich and her stomach reminded her it needed food.

  Tomorrow morning, she would start her official job in Carlton House. Full-time, generous pay, and living on property rent free. What more could she ask for?

  This was the turning point she had been searching for ever since she’d been laid off. So why was she trying to self-sabotage it? She may have seen Mr. Carlton wandering around the back of the property the night before, but the man owned the house and he hadn’t tried to harm her, so what was she worried about?

  Lily decided to head back downstairs and give her list to Mr. Carlton. Then she would head back to the cottage for the evening and relax.

  She looked down and realized her sneaker was untied.

  Lily kneeled down and grinned as she thought about going shopping and buying all new clothes and shoes. Her sneakers were wearing down to the threads on the inside of the shoe, and it had been giving her blisters.

  She was tying the lace when something caught her attention.

  The bottom of the locked doors was higher off the floor than most other doors. Lily stayed in her kneeling position. She held her breath waiting.

  She thought she’d seen a flash of light come from the room.

  Lily got on her knees and bent down lower to the floor. She squinted and tried to see inside the room, but all she could see was wood and dust.

  She inched closer and heard a scrape, a knock, and then a flash of light.

  Lily’s eyes widened. She straightened up and sat back on her knees.

  I knew it, she thought. There’s someone inside this room.

  Lily stood up and knocked again. “Hello? Is someone in there?”

  She leaned against the door and listened for a sound—any sound.

  Silence.

  Lily didn’t know how long she listened before she dragged herself away from the doors.

  With one last look, Lily said, “If you need help, show me a sign.”

  Lily listened. Only silence greeted her.

  Sighing, she knew she wouldn’t find the answers she wanted today inside the mysterious Carlton House, but she’d have plenty of time to find them since tomorrow she would officially start her job.

  Lily stood up and backed away from the door. Her mind debated what she’d seen. Was it stress? She only moved into the home a day ago. She went through a lot the day before. An interview, a job offer, a physical altercation with Jordan, and moving into a mysterious house with a strange owner. Her mind had to be playing weird tricks on her again.

  Lily descended the stairs. The shadows crept from their corners inside the house as the sunlight faded for the day.

  Her thoughts raced back and forth trying to find explanations for the noises she’d heard earlier.

  Lily remembered as a child when her parents would stay out all night and she was left to fend for herself. She never made friends since the neighborhood she lived in wasn’t one where you made any long-lasting friendships.

  She would make up games to play, she would make up imaginary friends that she played with until she fell asleep. She would imagine them helping her cook her dinner, laughing, and eating while sitting in front of the TV as she waited for her mother and father to come home.

  She called them her happy worlds since her real world made her miserable and lonely. Her happy world comforted her on those rare nights when her parents were home and fighting with each other.

  But now that she was an adult those memories and those happy days were a product of her imagination and that imagination faded when child services came, told her to pack as many clothes as she could fit into trash bags, and they drove her away from her toxic family.

  Lily now lived in the real world where her imagination had been replaced by jobs, bills, and other adult responsibilities.

  This was why Lily questioned what she saw inside the room and the noises she heard.

  Lily sighed as she roamed into the dining room to leave Mr. Carlton a note that all the supplies were ample enough to get her through the workday.

  Lily had been so caught up in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed the fire blazing inside the fireplace or the figure sitting in the chair.

  She grabbed the pen and wrote down that the supplies were adequate when a voice made her almost jump out of her skin.

  “Good afternoon, Lily. Did you enjoy your tour of the house?”

  Chapter 9

  Half-Truths

  Lily dropped the pen on the table, she stood up straight with her mouth gaping and trying to find the words to answer Mr. Carlton’s question.

  She heard a chuckle and the clinking of ice inside a glass.

  “Mister Carlton, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t snoop
around like that—”

  “Why not? You’re starting work for me tomorrow, yes?”

  Lily blinked. She thought Mr. Carlton would have been angry at her for trying to see what was behind the double doors with the padlocks.