A Theory of Haunting by Sarah Monette

Author:Sarah Monette
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fantasy
Publisher: Rebellion Publishing Ltd
Published: 2023-07-05T00:00:00+00:00

V

On Monday morning, I was waiting for Dr Starkweather when he arrived at the museum.

He checked quite visibly on the threshold of the main office, and I was bitterly amused at the wariness with which he said, “Good morning, Mr Booth.”

“Good morning,” I said. I did not want to have this conversation in front of the politely avid Miss Tilley, although she would inevitably hear it if Dr Starkweather lost his temper. I was hoping he would not, but I did not delude myself. He was not going to appreciate my errand.

Dr Starkweather was an autocrat, but not a fool; he sized up the situation and said, “Miss Tilley, tell Mr Hornsby that I’ll see him after I’ve spoken to Mr Booth. Come in, Mr Booth.”

I followed Dr Starkweather into his office and carefully closed the door behind me. Dr Starkweather circled around his desk and sat down. I heard him sigh, although I did not think he intended me to. “What can I do for you, Mr Booth?”

I had rehearsed my arguments half the night, but they all deserted me, and I blurted, “I can’t go back to Thirdhop Scarp.”

“Can’t?” said Dr Starkweather, his eyebrows rising. “Why not?”

I opened my mouth and closed it again. I could not tell Dr Starkweather that the house had tried to make me kill myself. I said, “I’m never going to be able to, er, convince Miss Parrington to distrust Marcus Oleander. And…” I clutched desperately for something that would sound convincing and sane. “I’m falling more and more behind in my work.”

“Yes,” said Dr Starkweather. “I know.”

I flinched and lost the last shreds of my composure. “I would rather resign,” I said.

Dr Starkweather sat and looked at me. I swallowed hard, but I did not let my chin drop, and although I could not hold his gaze, I forced myself to keep looking back each time I looked away.

The silence deepened, thickened. I had never defied Dr Starkweather to his face before; in general, I did my best not to remind him I existed. He had threatened to fire me on occasion, but I had never threatened to resign.

Dr Starkweather’s expression was that of a man discovering a bomb in his desk drawer. He said cautiously, not quite making it a question, “We should be very sorry to lose you.”

“I should be very sorry to go,” I said. “But I cannot…” My voice cracked, and I did not try to complete my sentence.

“And I admit,” Dr Starkweather said, like a man prodding the bomb in his desk drawer with a pencil, “there does not seem to be any particular point to the museum’s indefinitely continuing to lose your services every Friday.”

“Any of the junior curators would be able to finish the, er, catalogue if Mr Oleander desired it,” I said. I doubted anyone else would be as vulnerable to Thirdhop Scarp as I was, and I was very close to not caring if they were. Rank, craven selfishness on my part, and I did not care about that, either.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.