The House

Chapter 25 - Day 3: The Dining Room

"Where should I start?" David asks, and I'm unsure if he's speaking to me or himself, but I answer anyway.

"Maybe a medium-sized challenge like the grandfather clock in the living room would be best," I suggest. The nautical clock seems a bit daunting; who knows what it could puke on us if it decided to follow the example of the cuckoo clock?

I'm not ready to tell him about the open study yet, because I'm not sure what his reaction is going to be. He might be angry about me snooping in there or decide to lock it, as it possibly contains way too many valuable things to just leave it open with a stranger in the house.

I'm curious. I would really like to explore it a bit more. I'll tell him later.

"Sounds like a plan," David says, gesturing for me to precede him down the short hallway to the front of the house.

Entering the foyer, we are met by a similar view as I'd seen on my first night here. Trees are being battered by strong winds, the front door is rattling, and rain is smashing into the windows. Earlier, I opened all the drapes to let as much light in as I could, and now, I regret it because the storm throwing itself at the house is rather violent and frightening.

David doesn't look afraid, though; he seems to be in awe, a slight smile touching his lips as he gazes out of the windows with wonder in his dark eyes, reflecting the play of light. "Isn't it beautiful?" he sighs, and he might be right; it does have a kind of terrible beauty to it.

"Y-yes..." I stammer, and he turns to look at me, a frown bringing his brows together.

"Are you alright, Belle?"

"It's a little... overwhelming," I smile, wrapping my arms around myself, trying to suppress my body's subtle trembling. There's no way I'm going to admit to him that I am terrified that all the windows are going to shatter and the house come crashing down on us, or worse, something malevolent is about to burst into our lives. I don't understand my unease or my fear. I have too much imagination, but it usually tends towards the fantastical, not the dark and sinister.

David gives me a gentle, encouraging smile and crosses to the wall of windows, pulling the drapes closed one at a time, hiding the violence outside. "This house is a lot stronger than it might seem," he says, reading my apprehension at least partially correct. "Its foundation, walls and roof are pretty sound."

He hits the light switch at the door, dispelling the dusk that increased with each closing curtain, and I shake myself out of my stupor, giving him a wobbly smile. 

I've been standing here in the foyer watching him instead of helping, mesmerized by the way he moves. I find it soothing, keeping the ominous feelings at bay. What is it about this stranger that has me so enthralled? Is it the vague resemblance to my painting and drawing, or am I already starved for some company after barely two days here?

"It's cold in here," he says, joining me again when he's done turning the front of the house into a cosy shelter. "Want me to build a fire?" he asks, gently rubbing my upper arms, probably attributing my trembling to the drop in temperature around us rather than fear. 

He must be seeing something concerning on my face and is responding to it with thoughtful kindness because he does not take his hands away right away; instead, he gives my upper arms a gentle squeeze. The warmth of his hands penetrates the thin fabric of my blouse, spreading through my arms to the rest of my body. I rather like being touched by him.

I know I've just met the man and could be very wrong about him, but I think I could grow very fond of David Stirling.

"Yes, please," I whisper, following him to the huge fireplace taking up a large portion of the section of wall closest to the archway leading into the hall. While he takes kindling from the steel container holding everything required to get the fire going, I run my eyes over the living area. It seems warmer and more inviting than it did before, probably because I'm not cold and alone right now. I'm cold and nervous, but the fear is starting to ebb away while I'm watching David doing normal tasks.

I slowly stroll towards the alcove just off the living area, containing bay windows on three sides. The perfect nook to read in, curled up amongst the pillows, enjoying the sun that could potentially stream inside on fine-weather days. I run my fingers over the delicately embroidered throw pillows among the silky, floral ones. Very pretty. Someone put a lot of hard work into these embroideries; they are definitely handmade.

Stepping back into the main body of the living area and turning to look at the grandfather clock ticking away next to the entrance to the reading nook, my eyes adjust to the duskiness and the new shadows cast by the fire David is bringing to life. I tilt my head, frowning in surprise, as my eyes pass over a door I have not seen before. I made a fire on my first day here; how on Earth did I not see it then? It is a big, ornately carved double door, really hard to miss.

Well, I was tired and freaked out...

I'm not missing it now, and moving closer; I try the handles. The doors effortlessly slide open at my gentlest touch, running along the lengths of the walls on either side. I step into the room beyond them, admiring the huge solid wood table taking up almost the entire space. It is surrounded by cushioned chairs. Enough of them to seat large dinner parties. 

The only other furniture in this long room is a few sideboards and smaller tables lining the wall where the doors are. The wall opposite me is covered in windows, and through the white sheets of streaming rain outside, I can vaguely make out the shapes of the boy in the pond, the washing line and the stairs leading to the back door.

There is a door set in the wall further to my right, marking the end of the dining room. I cross the threadbare carpet, walking past sideboards containing crockery and oil paintings adorning the sections of the wood-panelled wall between them to reach it. Expecting it to be locked, I almost see my struggle to open it as confirmation of that, but though it is rather stiff, it does open with some effort. To my surprise, I find myself in the kitchen next to the back door. Makes sense, judging by the view from the dining room windows, but there wasn't a door in the kitchen!

I turn and close the elusive door I've obviously just used.

"Huh!" I grunt because I am now looking at what I'd thought was a tall, glass-fronted cupboard. It seems to follow the same idea as the cleverly hidden door in the cellar, but It might not be very practical. If there are items on the shelves, it could make the door too heavy to open, and it could also cause the contents to break. I try to open the door again and discover that the top section of the cupboard can open separately from the bottom part. The back of the cabinet slides open, creating a handy serving port. Very clever!

I have found the dining room... and it makes no sense...

My mind is running through the events and explorations of the last two days, and I can feel the cold fingers of dread tangling in my hair, tickling my scalp in a very unpleasant way. I turn my gaze to my left, looking towards the kitchen door and the hallway to the living room, fear returning full force to set my body trembling again.

I want to call out to David, make sure that he exists and that he is actually here with me, but I'm too afraid of the result. My feet are sluggish as I walk towards the corridor, my breathing straining harshly in my own ears.

"This is not possible..."

I reach the door in the hallway, the door leading into the small room that looks out on the pond and put my hand on its knob. How did I see the pond from this room if there is a dining room where its small window should be?

Closing my eyes for a second, trying to steady my breathing and calm my erratic heartbeat, I clench my teeth and yank the door open with more force than is needed.

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