The life of an old manor

Chapter 1

    "Alice, it's a good story, it's just, how do I say this, it's macabre," Mary said reading over Alice's story.
It was about a man who was slowly going crazy when he was tasked to watch an old house in the countryside he begins to see ghosts which drive him to his death. It's just like how Mary described it, macabre.
    "Well, I like the macabre" Alice replied shyly. That was extremely obvious. Her library was covered in victorian gothic novels. Bram Stoker, Edgar Allan Poe, Ann Radcliffe, Mary Shelly, and the Brontë sisters littered her library and the many surfaces of her small bedroom.
    "I know," Mary replied and looked back at the chicken scratch that Alice's hand created.
    "Alice, are you okay with, not having friends?" Mary asked genuinely. Alice's head shot up at the insult.
    "I have friends, Mary," Alice hissed, "have you forgotten about Dottie?"
    Dottie was Alice's best friend, a good pen pal. Dottie and Alice met each other when Alice and her family went to visit her great-great-uncle in Northern Ireland.
    In Alice's opinion, Dottie was the prettiest girl in the world. Dottie had long strawberry blonde hair that was curled, large black eyes that reminded Alice of doe eyes, with peachy skin that was covered in freckles that resembled the constellations in the sky. Dottie was a sunny day compared to Alice's dreary appearance.
    Alice had pale skin, the same colour as dull ivory. Her eyes were a forest green that were way too big and drooped the outer corners downwards. Her hair was the same as a raven's colour, which rolled down her back in curls. Her clothes didn't help her in any way. She always chose dark colours, barely any lighter colours. Other than a pale blue dress that her mom bought for her that sat in the back of her closet.
"Well Dottie's a pen pal, she's not physically in England with us." Mary harshly confessed readjusting herself on her bed.
Alice stood up glaring at Mary, turned around and nearly ran out of Mary's bedroom, ignoring her apologies. Alice walked across the narrow hall into her small bedroom. Alice slammed her door closed and bit her lip to keep herself from crying.
    Mary began to knock on the door. "Alice, I'm sorry, please just let me apologize properly to you," Mary said as Alice squeezed her eyes closed. "Mary, just not now I need to calm down," Alice replied. Mary sighed and returned to her bedroom.
    Alice walked over towards her bed and pulled out a small wooden box that resembled a treasure chest that was covered in carvings of angels and hearts. She opened it revealing a pile of notes and letters that she and Dottie had shared.
    Alice opened some up and began to read them. She wiped a few tears that rolled down her cheeks with the sleeve of her jumper. She made a deep sigh and leaned her head against the side of her bed.
Alice heard the front door open to hear her father shout, "I'm home girls!" Alice placed the letters back in the box and tucked them back under her bed. Alice looked into the mirror; her eyes looked glassy and even droopier than normal.

    Alice ran down to the stairs to see her fathers standing by the kitchen table and looking through the mail as her mother brought herself and her father a cup of early grey tea.
    "Thank you, darling, how was your day?" He asked Mother.
"Nothing much dear, I finished that book for book club though." Mother replied as she opened the oven to check on the chicken she had put in the oven a few minutes before Father had come back.

    Alfred Rose, Alice's father, worked at a candy shop in the center of London a few blocks away from their small house. Alfred smelled sweet every time he came back home
    Ruth Glenn, or Ruth Rose, worked a part-time shift at the local library as a librarian. She held book club for the other mothers in town in the house at tea time on Wednesdays.

    Alfred and Ruth Rose were married in early October 1929. Mary was born in late March of 1931. Alice, early December 1932. And the youngest daughter Edith (or Edie) Rose in the late October of 1938. And now it is May 30th, 1948, Alfred and Ruth were to be married for almost 19 years, and they were still madly in love with each other since they first met.

    "Was it good?" Alfred Rose asked as he looked back down at the mail after smiling at his wife.
    "It was quite a thriller, my goodness, that Agatha Christie has some imagination," Ruth replied taking the chicken out of the oven. Alfred nodded and opened a new letter. Alfred's expression soured.
    "Is there something wrong dear?" Ruth asked walking away from the stove.
    "Great Uncle Warren has died," Alfred said melancholically, "I'm glad we managed to see him before his passing."
    "What?" Ruth said taking the letter, "Well he lived a long life on that large estate of his,"
    Ruth handed Alfred the letter back. Alfred flipped to the other sheet of paper that was behind, he read through it.
    "Ruthie I can't believe it," Alfred said shocked, "We are to inform you that Warren Moses Rose has left to you his estate and his entire fortune for you being his only living heir by blood."
    Ruth stood shocked looking at Alfred.
    "We should move to Ireland as soon as possible," Alfred said.
    "What," Ruth shouted, "and leave London, what about your job?"
    "I can open a sweet shop down in Ireland, I know how to make sweets, darling," Alfred said holding Ruth's shoulders. Ruth sighed and looked up.
    "Are you sure?" Ruth asked.
    "Darling, I promise nothing would go wrong," Alfred said, "Imagine having the largest house in town, owning the most popular sweet shop in Europe, you can work equally with me, imagine being the career woman you always desired to be." Ruth sighed as Alfred held her close.

Alice crawled away from the stairs to her bedroom. 'Move away from London!' Alice thought, 'be with Dottie in an old manor.' Alice didn't know what her mother would say to her and her sisters about this. All that she knew was that maybe people would like her there.

At dinner, they all sat silently eating Ruth's cooking. Alice could feel the tension in the air. She hoped their decision would be figured out.
"Well girls, I have an announcement," Alfred said. Alice felt the tension release as her mother sighed sipping her water.
"We are going to move to great-great uncle Warren's house, up in Northern Ireland." Alfred finished.
"No way," Mary said in astonishment.
"Northern Ireland?" Edie question, "Why are we moving there?"
"Unfortunately, great-great-uncle Warren passed away leaving us his entire estate and fortune," Ruth answered continuing to eat the meal that she made.
"Poor uncle Warren," Alice said, taking a sip of water. Alice already knew what was going to pour out of her father's mouth in the next few moments.
    "I'm thinking that we open our sweet shop there as well," Alfred said continuing to devour his dinner.
    "That sounds lovely," Mary commented scooping around some potatoes.
    "When will we leave?" Edie asked.
    "I think about two months from now," Alfred answered. 'Not enough time' Alice thought glancing at her mother who continued to eat not saying a word.