Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
SUNDAY
I stretch and snuggle back under the covers.
Tiredness grips me, pulling me down into much needed sleep.
The room is dark, the drapes tightly drawn, but slivers of sunlight peek through in places.
The scent from the vase of roses on the desk fills the room and I can just make out a fallen petal in a beam of sunlight.
I reach out to touch the warm body beside me and sigh.
I love having such an understanding husband and don’t believe he was any different with Laura.
I want to have confidence in him but there are so many conflicting accounts, I’m having trouble getting my head around.
Again, last night I had trouble sleeping and just couldn’t get Jack’s tragic expression from my mind.
I know it’s been seven years but most people recall a terrible incident in their lives with clarity.
What is the truth about Laura’s death? Getting one version of the night she died from Sue, then another from Missy and then a slightly different story from Jack makes me want to get to the bottom of what really happened.
Did she fall overboard, jump, or was she pushed?
I need to know and I’m not doing this for Laura—although it would be good to know if she was a spoiled brat or the mother with postnatal depression that Jack insists.
I guess she could be both. If she was unstable, was it because of the ghost stories and the face at the window—or this depressing house?
Have I been mistaken about Laura all along?
In the portrait anger shimmers from her eyes, it’s unmistakable.
The problem is I have strange things happening to me too.
In her position, I’d want someone to find out the truth or am I going crazy too?
I know there are vastly different trains of thought about spirits.
Some say they don’t exist while others insist they haunt houses for a reason and that’s to reveal the truth about their deaths and so lay their souls at rest.
I didn’t imagine the door closing or the image in the reflection in the dining room mirror yesterday.
I’ve tried to make sense of it all and the only logical explanation is that Amy or one of the other staff were peeking in to make sure we had everything we needed—but that doesn’t explain the door closing behind me in the dressing room.
Then there’s the conversation I had with Jack about ghosts.
I remember it so vividly. Had that really been a dream or had he forgotten he’d told me?
It would have been an intimate moment for him, seeing her as if she was saying goodbye.
Then again, Jack might believe it shows weakness by admitting he’d seen her.
What I can’t fathom is, he remembers everything else we spoke about that night.
It doesn’t make sense to me that he’d forget the bit about seeing her ghost. I sit up in bed and shake my head; perhaps the lack of sleep and exhaustion is causing a slip in my memory—or am I slowly losing my grip on reality?
I’m apprehensive about meeting the kids today and more so Jack’s parents.
I overheard a heated conversation he had with them just before we boarded the flight to Paris.
His mother’s outraged voice cut through my happiness like a wrecking ball.
She’d heard about our whirlwind romance and marriage from Ruby.
Personally, I don’t believe it’s Ruby’s job to inform Jack’s family about his personal life.
He wanted to tell his parents in his own time.
He’d told me his mother believes no one is good enough for her son.
I was shocked to discover she’d arranged for him to meet Laura.
The fact that he’d liked her was a bonus and he insists he’d married her for love, not for her family name or the old money behind her.
I push hair from my eyes and swing my legs over the side of the bed.
I would be the last person she’d pick for Jack.
Although I’m educated, I wanted to be an actor and ended up taking any work I could get, mostly in advertising.
My agent would send me to the craziest auditions but I was fortunate enough to make a living.
Beside me, Jack is sleeping soundly. I head for the shower.
I’d like time to speak to the staff before he wakes.
When I’m done, I walk to the kitchen determined to get answers but, before I make it to the bottom of the stairs, I hear Jack calling my name. I turn, try to ignore the accusing stare from Laura’s portrait and call back. “I’m on the stairs. I’ll wait for you in the kitchen.”
“Okay, give me five.” The bedroom door slams shut.
I stare blankly for a few moments. Have I upset him?
I shrug and hurry down to the kitchen. It’s busy with people moving around, Sue is issuing orders and George is just finishing his meal.
I figure it’s too noisy to ask questions so I get Pierre’s attention and make an excuse for being there.
“Can I have crispy bacon this morning?” I smile at him. “I love it with pancakes.”
“Your wish is my command.” Pierre grins at me. “I’ll send it right along.” He turns back to the stove.
I nod at Sue and notice Jenny entering the kitchen. I wait for her to come to me. “Do you know what time the kids are due home?”
“They should be here by the time you finish breakfast.” Jenny glances at her watch. “Mr. and Mrs. Hunter live about twenty minutes or so away. It was convenient as they were due for their grandparents’ weekend. It gave you time to settle in.”
I consider the implications of caring for another person’s children and lean against the counter. “What is a typical day for them? I’d like to be involved but I don’t want to push myself on them.”
“Weekdays they go to school. They’ll have breakfast with you and then I drive them.
I collect them in the afternoon. They have a snack in the kitchen and then I supervise their homework.
After that they play until dinner. They have a short time watching TV or playing video games and then they go to bed.
It’s much the same every day. Weekends vary as to what Mr. Hunter has planned.
If he wants some time alone, I can take them to the park or the beach.
There are many things to do here. Sometimes they just want to chill at home. ”
Interested, I nod. “How are they at school? Do you need to tutor them in any subjects?”
“Only with reading at first but they’re good students.” She smiles. “They attend a very good school.”
I hear footsteps in the hallway and push away from the counter. “That’s good to know.” I head for the dining room.
“There you are, sweetheart.” Jack pulls me close and kisses me. “Got tired of me already?”
I gaze into his bottomless blue pools and sigh. “Never. I couldn’t sleep so I took a shower and came downstairs. I wanted to ask Jenny about the kids’ routine.”
“They’re set in their ways.” Jack shrugs.
“They’ll accept you easier if you slide into their lives unnoticed.
Don’t make sudden changes. They’re settled with Jenny; she’s been a surrogate mother for them since Laura died and, in fact, she was the one that changed their diapers.
Laura liked them when they were fresh and clean.
” He frowns. “Don’t judge her, she loved them but that’s the way her mother raised her. ”
I look at the table, set for two, and smile to myself. Moments later Amy glides into the room carrying a covered platter and places it on the sideboard. “That will be the crispy bacon.”
Over breakfast, I turn to Jack. “I’m going to spend tomorrow checking out which rooms I need to redecorate. Do you have a floorplan I can use? It’s something I’ll need if I plan to suggest changes.”
“I’ll send you the password to my computer and the office files.
” Jack looks at me over the rim of his cup.
“If you type ‘Beauford Manor’ into the search engine, the blueprints of the building will come up. Print what copies you need. There’s been many changes over the years.
Laura insisted the house has secret passageways where she used to play when visiting here as a child.
The house was in her family for a time. I’ve scanned the blueprints and can’t find anything.
I do know part of the house was changed, as in interior walls moved to increase the size of some of the rooms. There are windows on the outside that don’t show on any plan I’ve seen.
They don’t exist on the inside. It’s a mystery. ”
Intrigued, I open my mouth to reply when footsteps come clattering down the hallway with the unmistakable sound of children’s voices. Two dark-haired children run into the room, and a young girl is waving a toy. A smaller boy of the same coloring follows close behind.
“Dad! We had the best time yesterday.” Ava threw herself into Jack’s arms. “Grandma took us to a place called Save the Bay.”
“The aquarium?” Jack pulls her onto his lap. “Yes, I’ve been there. It’s great fun, isn’t it?”
“We got to touch the fish and some yucky things.” Noah waved a blue shark under Jack’s nose. “Grandpa got this for me at the store. I saw a big lobster with huge claws. The lady said we couldn’t touch it because it might hurt us.”
“I got to touch a starfish.” Ava held up a finger. “It was all bumpy and weird. It made my finger stink. Here, smell it.” She stuck it under Jack’s nose.
“Ava, that’s not nice. Haven’t you washed your hands since yesterday?” Jack frowned at her. “What else did you do?”
“I did wash my hands but I can still smell it.” Ava’s gaze left Jack and she looks at me. “Is that Willow?”
“It is.” Jack moves around in his chair to look at me. He gently places Ava on the floor. “Willow, this is my daughter Ava and my son Noah.”
“She’s not ugly at all.” Ava looks at me; she is a replica of her mother, right down to the almost black-blue eyes and tumbling ebony curls. She gives Jack a strange look and frowns. “Stepmothers are supposed to be ugly. Grandma read me a story, but Willow is pretty and has hair like an angel.”
I grin like a monkey and a giggle escapes my lips. “Thank you. I think you’re pretty too. It’s nice to meet you, Ava, and you too, Noah.”
“Are you staying here now?” Noah looks at me with his father’s deep blue eyes. “All the time. Like a real mom?”
I nod and notice just how like Jack this little boy is, right down to his concerned expression. “I am, yes. Is that okay?”
“Yes, I guess so. I can’t wait to tell my friends about the—” he looks at Jack “—aqu-er-ium? Can we go again some time?”
“Please, Dad.” Ava jumps up and down. “It was awesome.”
“Yes, we will, soon.” Jack looks up and waves at the door.
“Come on now, you two.” Jenny comes into the room. “Help me carry your things upstairs.”
As the kids scamper off, an older couple walk into the room. I look at Jack and he smiles at me. My stomach does a backflip. This must be his parents.
“Mom, Dad.” Jack stands and hugs his mother. “Thanks for taking the kids. It sounds like they had a great weekend.” He turns to look at me and holds out a hand. “I bet you’re dying to meet Willow.”
I stand and walk to Jack’s side feeling like I’m an animal at a show and these are the judges. His mother flares her nostrils and her eyes flash with instant dislike. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Hunter.” I offer my hand but she doesn’t take it.
“Welcome to the family.” Mr. Hunter takes my hand in both of his and looks into my eyes.
“I hope you’ll be happy living in Beauford Manor; if not, I’m sure Jack will build you the home of your dreams.” He glances at his wife’s stony expression and smiles.
“Jack tells me you’re an actor.” He leads me to the table.
“Tell me all about yourself over coffee.”
I sit down and the temperature in the room drops to zero. The woman is staring at Jack in disbelief. I smile sweetly at her husband. “Yes, and interior design. I’ve created quite a few sets in my time too.”
“You are a breath of fresh air to this family.” Mr. Hunter beams at me. “Isn’t she?” He glances at his wife who’s standing like a frozen statue.
“An actor?” Mrs. Hunter glares at Jack. “Why is this news to me?”
“Come and sit down, Mom.” Jack urges her to the table and pours her a cup of coffee. “I’m sure you have many questions. We have all day. Ask away.”
I cringe, waiting for a putdown, and wrap my trembling fingers around my cup. I meet my mother-in-law’s cruel expression. “Yes, an actor. It’s a well-respected profession and has been for many years.”
“If you say so.” Mrs. Hunter lifts her chin and her beady eyes move over me. “All the women are fake. They’ve had so much cosmetic surgery men don’t know what they’re really getting until the children come along looking like gargoyles.”
I meet her gaze. “I haven’t had any enhancements. This is my real hair color. In fact, my life is an open book and I have nothing to hide from Jack.”
“They all say that.” Mrs. Hunter shakes her head and stands abruptly. “Peter, I want to go home—now.” She bends to kiss Jack on the cheek. “You need to fix this right away.” She straightens and then storms out of the door with her husband on her heels.
I swallow the bile creeping up my throat and turn to Jack. “That went well.”
“Well, at least Dad likes you.” He shrugs. “Don’t worry, Mom is a little prickly at times but she’ll come around.”
The woman’s disgusted gaze is imprinted on my mind. I’d made an instant enemy. “Somehow I don’t think so.”