join them and scrutinised Sam with a superior sneer.
“You must be Samantha,” she said in a clipped mid-west accent. “I’m Eleanor. My friends call me Ellie. You can call me Eleanor.”
“Right. Okay.”
Sam became invisible again, as Ellie turned to Rebecca to tell her about the phone call she’d just made to her solicitor. The two women became engrossed in the conversation, using jargon that soared over Sam’s head, then they turned away and began strolling towards the house as if Sam didn’t exist.
Sam slammed the car door and watched them. She knew she should go inside before she contracted hypothermia. But what terrors was she going to find in that haunted house of hell? She felt jumbled-up and out-of-sorts. But standing out here getting frostbite wouldn’t help, so she steeled herself and trailed in behind Rebecca and Ellie, making sure she didn’t catch them up, because reminding them of her pathetic existence right now would be even more embarrassing than being snubbed.
Chapter Six
The bedroom décor was as heavy as Sam’s heart, and the ancient dust which hung in the air stifled her. But the view outside was awe-inspiring, so Sam stepped over to look out the huge window, turning her back on the low ceiling, oak beams, and hefty mahogany furniture. The window was divided into three sections; one normal pane was sandwiched between two beautiful stained-glass panes, giving the room a church-like feel. Sam pressed her thighs against the radiator, trying to warm herself as she took in the spectacular sight below.
From here she could see the rest of the cliff as it curved around the harsh landscape. It was crumbling and covered with scrubby mosses, and it plunged down to meet the swirling grey sea like a monolith. Sam watched as the white spume fingers of the sea probed the black jagged rocks, then trickled away, waiting to be collected by the next wave that sloshed up to the shore. The water was rough out there, and hypnotising. The weak sunlight glistened off the dark water, creating an illusion of monochrome.
Sam wondered what it would be like to sink beneath the rough sea; to find the deep soothing calm below. But in order to get there, she’d need to drown…
She shook herself out of it and switched her attention to the pretty stained-glass patterns on the other panes. The rectangular shapes were brightly coloured and gaudy, like a Kandinsky painting, giving the outside a kaleidoscopic haze.
Sam felt her mood rise. She smiled. Maybe it was just a matter of where you put your attention…
The hard double bed behind her creaked, as Verlaine shifted position. She turned and discovered him leaning against the mahogany headboard, watching her in the dim light.
“You okay now, honey?” he asked.
“Yeah, I guess my humiliation will blow over and I’ll be forgiven.”
“Don’t worry. My parents still love you, okay?”
“Rebecca’s mum’s a bit scary, isn’t she?”
He chuckled. “I guess. Hey, come here and let me hold you in my arms.”
Sam padded over and sat on the bed with him. They kissed, which spread a joyful contentedness throughout her body. Verlaine’s lips were soft and he tasted of tea.
“Is your head feeling better?” he asked, caressing her cheek.
She chuckled. “I haven’t really got a headache, remember? It was our excuse to get out of the gunpowder mill!”
“Sorry, of course – you were so convincingly subdued during lunch, that’s all! I’m sure they’ll be leaving soon, then we can have the run of the house!”
This idea appealed to Sam. She felt arousal unfold within. “I want my negligee back.”
“Hmm. I’m sure mom’ll give it back to you if you ask.”
Sam raised a suggestive eyebrow and grinned.
“You want me to ask her?” Verlaine said, trying to figure out Sam’s non-verbal communication.
“No. I want it now.”
Verlaine beamed. “Well, I can’t refuse a demand like that, can I?”
Verlaine kissed her, then he hopped off
“You must be Samantha,” she said in a clipped mid-west accent. “I’m Eleanor. My friends call me Ellie. You can call me Eleanor.”
“Right. Okay.”
Sam became invisible again, as Ellie turned to Rebecca to tell her about the phone call she’d just made to her solicitor. The two women became engrossed in the conversation, using jargon that soared over Sam’s head, then they turned away and began strolling towards the house as if Sam didn’t exist.
Sam slammed the car door and watched them. She knew she should go inside before she contracted hypothermia. But what terrors was she going to find in that haunted house of hell? She felt jumbled-up and out-of-sorts. But standing out here getting frostbite wouldn’t help, so she steeled herself and trailed in behind Rebecca and Ellie, making sure she didn’t catch them up, because reminding them of her pathetic existence right now would be even more embarrassing than being snubbed.
Chapter Six
The bedroom décor was as heavy as Sam’s heart, and the ancient dust which hung in the air stifled her. But the view outside was awe-inspiring, so Sam stepped over to look out the huge window, turning her back on the low ceiling, oak beams, and hefty mahogany furniture. The window was divided into three sections; one normal pane was sandwiched between two beautiful stained-glass panes, giving the room a church-like feel. Sam pressed her thighs against the radiator, trying to warm herself as she took in the spectacular sight below.
From here she could see the rest of the cliff as it curved around the harsh landscape. It was crumbling and covered with scrubby mosses, and it plunged down to meet the swirling grey sea like a monolith. Sam watched as the white spume fingers of the sea probed the black jagged rocks, then trickled away, waiting to be collected by the next wave that sloshed up to the shore. The water was rough out there, and hypnotising. The weak sunlight glistened off the dark water, creating an illusion of monochrome.
Sam wondered what it would be like to sink beneath the rough sea; to find the deep soothing calm below. But in order to get there, she’d need to drown…
She shook herself out of it and switched her attention to the pretty stained-glass patterns on the other panes. The rectangular shapes were brightly coloured and gaudy, like a Kandinsky painting, giving the outside a kaleidoscopic haze.
Sam felt her mood rise. She smiled. Maybe it was just a matter of where you put your attention…
The hard double bed behind her creaked, as Verlaine shifted position. She turned and discovered him leaning against the mahogany headboard, watching her in the dim light.
“You okay now, honey?” he asked.
“Yeah, I guess my humiliation will blow over and I’ll be forgiven.”
“Don’t worry. My parents still love you, okay?”
“Rebecca’s mum’s a bit scary, isn’t she?”
He chuckled. “I guess. Hey, come here and let me hold you in my arms.”
Sam padded over and sat on the bed with him. They kissed, which spread a joyful contentedness throughout her body. Verlaine’s lips were soft and he tasted of tea.
“Is your head feeling better?” he asked, caressing her cheek.
She chuckled. “I haven’t really got a headache, remember? It was our excuse to get out of the gunpowder mill!”
“Sorry, of course – you were so convincingly subdued during lunch, that’s all! I’m sure they’ll be leaving soon, then we can have the run of the house!”
This idea appealed to Sam. She felt arousal unfold within. “I want my negligee back.”
“Hmm. I’m sure mom’ll give it back to you if you ask.”
Sam raised a suggestive eyebrow and grinned.
“You want me to ask her?” Verlaine said, trying to figure out Sam’s non-verbal communication.
“No. I want it now.”
Verlaine beamed. “Well, I can’t refuse a demand like that, can I?”
Verlaine kissed her, then he hopped off
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