The Weekend by L. H. Stacey

Author:L. H. Stacey [Stacey, L. H.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Boldwood Books

29

ELIZABETH

Present Day - Saturday Morning

On reaching the bottom of the stairs, Elizabeth rolled her gaze back to the top. It had been the first time in her life she’d come down without watching where she stepped and instead of holding her breath, she’d purposely stepped on all the places where she knew the creaks would be, just to prove they were still there. Exactly as they had been. Sadly, it was just another reminder that there was no one left to be quiet for and that as well as both Thomas and Dominic, Ada was gone too. Now, only William remained, along with a few other guests. Most of which had already left the night before, leaving just the few who’d already drunk far too much to drive, either before or after Ada’s death had been announced.

‘Now then, there you are. I did wonder if you’d come through to the kitchen. Just like old times.’ Mrs McCulloch gave her a welcoming smile, held up the coffee jug, waved it in the air. ‘I seem to remember you loving my coffee.’ Without waiting for an answer, she poured it into a mug, pushed it along the kitchen counter. ‘Here you go, my girl. Get that down you.’ With a penetrating gaze, she looked Elizabeth up and down. ‘Oh, my girl, you haven’t had much sleep either, have you?’ She paused. ‘And those beautiful eyes, so full of tears.’ She shook her head, pulled a sheet of kitchen roll from the stand, passed it to her. ‘It all been such a shock, hasn’t it?’

Picking up the mug. Elizabeth sipped at the contents. She looked across the kitchen, to where bread had been sliced, ready to toast. A serving bowl full of grapefruit stood on a tray, next to pots of yoghurt. Small, puff pastry tarts, some sweet, others savoury. A speciality Mrs McCulloch had always made, one she remembered fondly.

‘You said either, meaning more than one of us… who else didn’t sleep?’ Holding her hands out, palms up, she tried to feign a smile. ‘Or were you just meaning that none of us slept very well?’

‘Oh, I was meaning young William. He was up with the larks. Went out for an early walk. Right back to the clearing, said he’d forgotten to do something important. Something that just couldn’t wait.’ Looking through the window and towards the lake, Elizabeth wondered how he was, and whether she ought to follow him. Getting lost once had been more than enough and the thought of doing it again felt like too much of a trial.

‘I see.’ She didn’t really see, but furrowed her brow, tried to look everywhere apart from at the elderly housekeeper, who had always seemed to know when they’d been lying or bending the truth. Cookie has always been the one who’d sneaked them treats, baked them cakes, and made them biscuits. The one person they’d turned to if and when things went wrong.

‘Now then,’ Mrs McCulloch said, ‘Would you like some breakfast in here, with me.

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