GHOSTS IN SUNLIGHT by Browne Gretta Curran

Author:Browne, Gretta Curran [Browne, Gretta Curran]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Eighty-Eight Publications
Published: 2013-07-14T04:00:00+00:00

Part Two

Phil

1984 — 1993

Twenty-Six

Massachusetts

September 1984

A bright and warm New England September. Massachusetts in a noon-day sunlight.

It was the taxi that drew Jacqueline's attention, made her pause curiously by the bedroom window. A white Harvard taxi turning off the country road into the private lane that led up to the house, slowly winding its way through the gaps in the green trees until it finally came to a halt at the end of the landscaped garden.

A young man stepped out.

Jacqueline stared at him – and time stopped.

He was beautiful. The most strikingly beautiful young man she had ever seen. Tall and young and strong, with hair as black as jet.

Marc! Oh my darling, after all these years you've come back to me! You've come back, chéri!

Watching him undetected from her bedroom window, Jacqueline gazed down at him as he paused to speak to the taxi driver, the sunlight glancing off his leather jacket, his favourite black leather jacket.

Oh Marc! Everything I did was for you. All my love was for you. And now you know that. And you've come back.

She turned away from the window quickly, a hand to her cheek, her mind racing. She must look her best. After all this time – she must look her best!

She rushed into her dressing-room, flung open the doors of the closet and began searching through her dresses ... Chanel, Dior ... the very best money could buy ... She finally chose a Chanel dress in soft pearl-grey silk with matching grey stilettos. Her black hair was swept up into a neat chignon. She removed the small gold earrings and replaced them with a pair of Japanese pearls.

Above the pounding of her excitement she heard the doorbell ring. With one shoe on and one shoe off she rushed out onto the landing and called down to her housekeeper.

`Eddie! It's Marc! He's come back! He's at the door!'

Mrs Edwards appeared at the bottom of the stairs and gaped up at her. `Marc?'

The doorbell rang again.

`Quickly!' Jacqueline urged. `Ne le faites pas attendre! Don't keep him waiting! Let him in. Tell him I will not be long.' A beaming smile. `Oh, Eddie! It's Marc! He's come back! I saw him with my own eyes.'

Mrs Edwards gaped until Jacqueline disappeared back into her bedroom, then she turned towards the front door, shaking her head with a sigh of deep despair. When would Jacqueline accept that Marc would never come back to her.

*

So here it was ... the house in Massachusetts ... the forbidden house. Large and elegant, a stately multi-level house of the old Colonial style with a half acre of green slope leading up to the front porch.

Phil stood outside the door waiting for his ring to be answered, waiting calmly, his manner cool and dispassionate. He did not intend to stay long. He had asked the taxi to wait.

A woman eventually opened the door – a sturdy grey-haired woman in her late sixties. From her dress and manner he knew she was some sort of housekeeper.

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