Chapter 9
“Welcome to your new room!” Guinevere said, opening the glossy mahogany door to a room at the top of the grand staircase.
Wendy entered first behind Guinevere and gasped.
Alice followed, astonished to find the room was a proper parlor room with a fire crackling inside the polished marble fireplace surround, and a bronze poker and blower set to match the bronze wall sconces with milk glass coverings.
“It’s so lovely,” Wendy said, pausing before the fire like she was already at home and apt to stay forever. Alice circled the room, eyeing the brocade wallpaper and the lacquered cherry secretary desk.
“Is this where we sleep?” Alice asked, trying to open the double pocket doors on the other side of the room. The doors jostled but did not open, reminding her she was still a prisoner.
Guinevere waved limply at circular gold handles flush with the door’s wood.
“There’s a small latch inside the inset of the handle.
” Alice ran her finger along the concave metal until she found the tiny lever and flipped it upward.
As the doors slid softly apart and retreated into the walls, they revealed two poster beds with drawn brocade drapes that matched the wall coverings.
“Another fireplace!” Wendy exclaimed, rushing towards the bedroom. “Miss Guinevere, it’s wonderful!” Wendy had been bewitched, Alice decided, and quickly redoubled her resolve to protect Wendy, along with herself.
“Guinevere, simply call me Guinevere,” the woman said, walking slowly towards Alice with a swishing gait. “Think of this as your home. We can’t get close to one another if you treat it like a hospital. This room is for you. Isn’t it divine?”
Do not squint your eyes, Alice told herself, as her skepticism fought to make itself known.
Guinevere smiled. “I’ll let you both settle in. Tonight, we will dine in the solarium. I have a treat prepared!”
“Lovely, Guinevere!” said Wendy, while Alice battled the familiar feeling that this could be a dream—one with the unsettling qualities of a nightmare.
“Did you notice the other open rooms were empty? They weren’t even furnished,” Alice said as she peered through the tiny keyhole of the secretary.
She fantasized about being a thimble-sized girl.
Perhaps the key had fallen out and was somewhere on the floor.
She knelt to peer under the rolled-armed sofa with gold and emerald fringe.
Wendy sat at the foot of the bed, touching the drapes of brocade and gold-threading with gold-foil buttons. “What are you looking for?”
“Knowledge of what’s happening here!”
“I doubt your answers are under the sofa.”
Alice continued undeterred. “I need a small, sharp object to fit in the desk keyhole. Maybe a pin?” She eyed the sconces beside the fireplace. Could she break a bulb and use a filament? No, too fragile. Then she landed on the clock atop the fireplace. “There!”
She got up and rushed to the mantel. The polished jade timepiece was a domed sculpture with roses carved from the stone.
Leaves bent and sprawled from the green roses, finally forming into clasps which held a glass plate over a marble clock face with gold hands.
Alice took the clock by its feet—“Alice, don’t!
” Wendy cried—and heaved it from the mantel with a huff.
The weight caught her by surprise, tilting her backward, and the clock plummeted from her hands, smashing at her feet on the marble hearth, breaking into chunks of jade and glass, the golden mechanisms set free.
Alice stood still, trying to catch her breath, watching the door. Had anyone heard the crash?
Wendy’s eyes were glued to the door, too, her face ghost white.
All was silent except for the howling wind and a faint banging somewhere in the distance.
A pipe, Alice figured. Satisfied that no one was on their way to investigate, she plucked the large and small hands from the pile and hurried to the desk.
“Alice!” Wendy scolded in a harsh whisper as she slipped off the bed, tiptoed over to the remains of the clock and began brushing them into a pile.
Alice, shaking off the sudden doubt that Wendy’s parental voice had stirred in her, inserted the minute hand into the desk’s keyhole, biting her tongue as she wiggled the thin gold piece around, listening to the clicking it made against iron.
The gold snapped off inside the lock.
Alice let out a huff and flung the hour hand to the floor. “Alice!” Wendy said, her tone causing Alice’s face to flush even as she tried to dig her pinky into the keyhole, as if she could somehow reach in and pull the jammed bit of gold from inside.
Impossible. Impossible! Alice felt her shoulders collapse as she gave up and turned to Wendy, who sat on the floor in the mess Alice had made.
It began to sink in. How could she have been so foolish?
How would they hide the clock? What would the punishment be for destroying such a fine item?
How would Wendy have to pay for Alice’s rash actions?
Tears came, streaming down Alice’s face as the familiar sadness of shame washed over her.
“Wendy, this is just another prison! The dressings and sculptures are distracting you. I don’t want to be shut away anywhere anymore!
” Wendy scrambled to her feet, rushed to Alice’s side and embraced her.
Even in light of Alice’s mess, Wendy’s only instinct was to comfort her.
“At least we are together, Alice. Whatever this all is, we have each other now.” Wendy rocked Alice softly in her arms. Alice’s heartache softened. Wendy was right. She was all Alice had in the world.
Footsteps echoed down the hall, and Alice jolted.
“Quickly, push the pieces under the fireplace grate!” Both girls knelt quickly to shove the large bits of debris close to the embers.
Alice handed Wendy the dust brush and grabbed the bronze soot shovel.
Wendy swept glass and tiny green stone shards into the fire with a pinging sound, while Alice shoveled frantically, trying to cover the large chunks of jade with burning wood.
As the doorknob turned, Alice and Wendy rushed to return the tools and take their positions.
The door opened, and Guinevere stopped abruptly, taking in the sight of them.
She said nothing. Alice tried to appear calm, but her face was as hot as the flames in the fire.
Guinevere entered, her eyes fixed on Alice and Wendy, closing the door behind her.
Alice couldn’t break the gaze until Guinevere turned without a word and went straight to the fireplace.
Wendy grabbed Alice’s hand and squeezed it so hard it hurt.
Guinevere stood staring into the fire, where chunks of jade stuck out of the ash.
Slowly, Guinevere took the bellows from the bronze crate of freshly used fire utensils and worked them to fan the flames.
“We must be diligent. We don’t want it to extinguish,” Guinevere said, then calmly replaced the bellows and turned to Alice and Wendy with an eyebrow raised. “Isn’t that better?”
Alice and Wendy exchanged glances and nodded. Guinevere sauntered to the doorway and stood silently, glancing with a smirk between Alice and Wendy. “Such pretty girls.”
Alice, surprised, looked to Wendy, who calmly cast her eyes to the ground and said, “Thank you, Mum.” Alice marveled, then realized she’d better follow suit.
“Thank you, Mum,” Alice said, then, trying to be exactly the same as Wendy, bowed her head.
They stood there for what felt like a quarter of an hour, but Alice knew it was only a few seconds.
How long had they been in this room altogether?
An hour? Two? It was impossible to tell, with the clock broken and under flames.
Guinevere pointed to a wall of drapes beside the bed and said, “Behind the drapery there, you’ll find a wardrobe. Find something suitable for a formal meal.”
Alice gave Wendy a nervous glance, but Wendy looked just as discomfited.
“I insist,” Guinevere said. “You can’t wear those adolescent frocks in the garden. You are both women and you’re not poor, at least not now.” She smiled slightly, seeming focused on Alice, distrustful of her.
“Yes, Mum,” Wendy said. “Thank you.”
Alice mimicked her again. “Yes, Mum. Thank you.” Guinevere nodded with her tight smile, then backed out of the room, pulling the door shut behind her.
“How utterly odd!” Alice said, turning to Wendy for confirmation, but Wendy was already walking over to the wall of drapes.
“I thought these were windows!” she exclaimed, reaching into the lush drapes, searching for a separation in them.
The deep red taffeta, which hung beneath a molded valance secured at the ceiling, was so rich and dense that no one would have known it didn’t cover windows, and the sight of its majestic gleam was likely more pleasing than any window view from this house would have been.
Alice returned to the secretary. She pried down on the corrugated top, but it refused to budge, causing her fingers to slip.
She grabbed the wooden handle and yanked the desk, but it stayed locked.
There was, however, a distinct clinking jingle.
Alice shook the desk again, clink clack, then dropped to her knees.
On a small hook on the underside of the desk was a tiny brass key—the kind that would fit perfectly in the keyhole of a locked secretary!
Alice inserted the unbroken clock hand into the keyhole, attempting to pin the broken piece to the side of the opening.
If she could get it close enough to the top, she could grab it with her fingers, pull it out, and try the key.
Meanwhile, Wendy yanked at a long rod she had retrieved from beneath the mounds of taffeta hanging against the wall.
Almost there, Alice thought as the shard of gold neared the lip of the keyhole. She grabbed the slightly twisted end of the metal and pulled it free.
“Got it!” Wendy shouted.
“Me too!” Alice swiftly pushed the key into the hole. She turned it clockwise, but it stopped. She tried again, but it stopped once more. “This must be the key!” Alice scolded the desk for not accepting it.
“Alice, look!” Wendy called.
Alice began to fume. “It does not fit!” She took the key and threw it across the room.
“Alice?” Wendy asked with trepidation. She took a step forward. “Do you… have many important bank notes that you need to access?” Wendy began to smile mischievously. The little tease cut through the anger in Alice faster than anything else could have, and she began to laugh.
“Oh, I am a terrible fool!” Alice said, covering her face.
“Sincerely, do you hold the deeds to this property? Is that why you must break into the secretary?” Alice laughed and threw her arms around Wendy.
“Now, come, silly. I have found something!” Wendy said and took Alice’s hand.