Page 90 of Jane Deyre
CHAPTER 47
Jane
June moves into July. Though it’s hot and muggy, it’s another blissful month. I am giddy in love with Ward Rochester. A feeling teetering between smitten and stunned. He splits his time between finishing Edwina’s memoir and indulging both Adele and me. He takes us to the beach where we jump waves, the Santa Monica Pier where we do all the rides, and to the nearby Hollywood Bowl to watch the July 4thfireworks. While it’s pretty obvious we’re in love, on my insistence, we still limit our public displays of affection and our lovemaking to his bedroom. The last thing I want to endure is the wrath of Ms. Fairfax, who keeps a watchful eye on us. While my head is in the clouds, I still have to walk on eggshells around her.
As halcyon as my life sounds, a couple of weird things have happened. On two separate occasions, someone broke into my quarters. On one, stealing my toothbrush. Like why? On another, stealing the French lingerie Edwina gave me. As upsetting and violating as that was, I didn’t tell Ward about the thefts nor Edwina. I didn’t want to distract Ward from the memoir or upset Edwina, who’s not been feeling well. I surmised it could only be one person: the vindictive Ms. Fairfax, who still has a bone to pick with me plus likely has access to the guesthouse.
And, reader, there are still weird noises coming from the locked room next to mine.
Low moans and groans.
Thuds.
Wails that sound like those of a wounded animal.
Metal clanking, clinking
One night, I awaken from a dream to the sound of footsteps outside my door. The smell of incense. And then I hear cackling. Deep and demonic. Clutching my pillow, I bolt upright. See a shadow under my door. A bone-chilling shiver zips through me. Every nerve ending buzzes. Bravely, I get out of bed and tiptoe to the door. Relieved it’s locked. And now has a bolt.
“Who’s there?” I stammer and put my ear against the wood.
No answer.
I hear a door open and slam shut. For sure, the locked room with the signKEEP OUT.
That’s it. Tomorrow, I’m going to confront Ms. Fairfax and demand she show me what’s inside that room.
Morning can’t come soon enough. At the crack of dawn, I jump out of bed, get ready, and head over to Thornhill. Ms. Fairfax is an early riser. I find her in the dining room alone, in the chair she always sits in, reading a newspaper and sipping coffee. It’s black like her heart.
At the sound of my footsteps, she looks up and arches a thin brow. Her expression is one of pure, sheer annoyance.
“This is my one hour in the day of peaceful solitude. I’d appreciate it if you left.”
I take a fortifying breath. “I need to ask you something.”
“Can’t it wait?”
Of course it can, but I say no.
She sets down her coffee cup on a saucer. “Very well. Make it fast.”
“I want to see what’s inside the room next to mine. The one with the sign that saysKEEP OUT.”
Her jaw twitches ever so slightly. “Why is that, Jane?”
“I keep hearing strange noises coming from it at night.”
“Ghosts perhaps?” Her voice drips with sarcasm.
I’ve told you, reader, that I don’t believe in ghosts, so I reply, “I’m just curious.”
She resumes drinking her coffee and doesn’t respond. Reading her newspaper as if I’m not here. After several long, rude minutes, she folds the newspaper in half and looks my way again.
“Fine.” She stabs the word at me. “Please meet me there at eleven.”
In the distance, the grandfather clock strikes eight.
She narrows her beady eyes at me. “Don’t be late.” A beat. “And you better not be wasting my precious time.”