Ruby took her hands away from the shoes, tested that they were set, and
put the doll back on its shelf.
A door groaned open.
I swivelled to face the hallway, but Ruby didn’t move.
“They do that sometimes,” she said as she picked up two pieces of cloth
and opened a box full of thread. “I try not to worry about it. It could be the
wind or even just a crooked doorframe.”
Or something more. The phrase hung unspoken between us. I couldn’t
take my eyes off the hallway. “Do you mind if I…”
“Take a look?” She smiled. “Of course, go for it. I never find anything,
though.”
THE HALLWAY SEEMED FAR LONGER than it had before. Shadows and cobwebs
clung about the light fittings in equal measure. I moved forward, holding my
breath, searching for any sign of motion or soft sound.
The hallway doors were open. I couldn’t stop myself from glancing
through them as I passed, a little afraid of what I might see. Ruby had cleared
out the bedrooms that had been inhabited by the previous family. Bare
mattresses rested on bedframes, and wardrobe doors stood open, their insides
impossibly dark. They felt sadder and colder without the toys scattered over
the floor.
The other rooms had been left untouched. Dust dulled the furniture,
probably the same furniture they’d held when the house’s first family had
moved in. Wingback chairs and ottomans clustered amongst wooden side
tables and bureaus. It was easy to imagine people from another lifetime
sitting at them, hands folded in their laps, perfectly silent as they waited for
the hours to progress.
Stop it. I tried to swallow, and a lump caught in my throat. I reached the
end of the hallway and faced the curving staircase leading towards the foyer.
My fingertips brushed the top of the bannister, the same place touched by
countless other visitors, then my heart leapt into my throat as I heard a single,
soft, low note.
The piano. I glanced towards the workroom. Glowing golden light spilt
through the doorway. I couldn’t see Ruby, but her movements cast dancing
shadows across the ceiling and walls as she sewed an outfit.
I extended one foot down the stairs, then another. My lungs burned withthe need to breathe, but fear squeezed my throat closed. I kept close to the
walls, afraid of leaning too far over the bannisters, and felt the distorted
animal eyes on my back.
The silence in the foyer was almost deafening. The unnatural stillness
was heavy—thick enough to taste and solid enough to feel. I turned the
corner into the piano’s room and felt for its light.
The beautiful, long drapes shifted in a breeze. I stared at them, fear
spiking my pulse. There couldn’t be any wind. Ruby and I had closed every
window. I’d fastened the latches in this room myself.
The drapes stilled. I stepped towards them, my hand held outwards to feel
the air. It was calm and cool. I looked at the piano. The wood machine still
held its cloak of dust. The seat had been untouched. I bent close to the keys
and exhaled. Tiny flecks of grey powder flurried away in my breath. The
keys hadn’t been disturbed, as far as I could see.
I straightened and rotated to watch the room. The curtains stayed still.
The doorways empty. The floor’s groaning boards undisturbed.
There was something here, though. My heart thundered. Did I actually
come into contact with Marwick’s ghost?
I imagined telling Lukas about it, and his voice flashed through my mind,
his trademark sarcasm acidic. “Wow, you saw a curtain move, huh? That
must have been traumatic. Do you think you’ll need counselling?”
But I heard and saw things that are unexplainable. Lukas might not have
been excited by my experience, but I knew Ruby would be. I retraced my
steps to the foyer, turning out the light as I went. There really was something
here. The first step creaked as it took my weight. I looked towards the
staircase’s top, and my heart skipped a beat. A woman sat on the final step,
hunched over, long black hair obscuring her face and blending into her slate-
grey dress.
I looked again. The woman was gone. In her place, wooden cladding ran
up the walls, and shadows from the bannister created strange lines in the dim
light. But that didn’t calm the pounding in my veins. I tried to speak, but my
call escaped as a croak. I licked my lips and tried again. “Ruby?”
“Yes?” A door creaked as she moved into the hallway.
“Ruby, can we stay downstairs tonight?”
She sounded surprised but not unhappy. “Sure. Easier than trying to carry
a mattress into my room, I guess. Just give me a moment to finish thesetrousers.”
I waited, breath suspended, my eyes fixed on the space where I thought
I’d seen the woman. The longer I looked, the more foolish I felt. It was a dark
corner of the house. It would be easy for a mind to twist the shadows into a
human shape.