Читать книгу Haunting at Remington House - Laura V. Keegan - Страница 26

Tom paced the veranda, a half-empty bottle of vodka in his hand. Wind blew the rain sideways into the porch, soaking through his heavy fisherman’s sweater. Silently he pleaded for forgiveness for what he had done to Elise, though he knew in his heart, it was not to be. He had punished Elise for not loving him, and now she would punish him for destroying her.

As a flash of lightening lit the night sky, Elise appeared in the doorway, pale and fragile, wisps of golden hair gently blowing across her face. She smiled sweetly at Tom.

Her smile melted his heart. Slowly, not taking his eyes off her delicate form, Tom began walking toward her, reaching out to take her in his arms. He pulled her to him—his arms met empty air. Behind him, shrill peals of laughter cut through the air. He whirled around. There was no one there. “Elise!” he screamed. “Elise!” Her laughter echoed, chilled his soul.

Tom ran into the darkened house, trying to escape her maniacal laughter. In the corner of the room, he saw her. She sat at the piano. Softly she began playing Beethoven’s Für Elise, repeating the same refrain again and again, each note a mockery of their love. All the while she watched him, staring unblinking into his eyes, smiling gently, sweetly beckoning him to her side. But he did not go to her. He stood frozen, unable to move. Elise threw her head back and howled; then she was gone. Silence filled the room. Tom could see his breath, like puffs of moisture, ballooning out in the frigid, dark room.

The phone rang, jarred him back to his senses. With a shaking hand, he lifted the receiver.

“Tom? It’s Sara. Hello? . . . Are you there?”

“Sara?” he whispered.

“Yes. Is something wrong? I can barely hear you.”

“I need you. Come right away,” Tom said and hung up. The second he placed the receiver on the cradle, the phone rang again. He didn’t answer it.

Tom waited for Sara on the front steps. It was raining harder now, the temperature was dropping rapidly. But Tom didn’t feel the cold. On this stormy night, Tom, finally—without a doubt— knew his enemy. And more importantly—he knew he no longer loved Elise—was no longer willing to love her. He also recognized, with an inevitable sense of horror, that Elise would make him pay for his change of heart. Go ahead and try. I’ve done my suffering. I’ve paid the price for loving you. It must end. Damn you, Elise, it will end!

Sara—out of breath, soaked, hair plastered to her head—ran up the porch stairs to Tom. Inside the house the telephone continued ringing. Sara’s hand trembled as she reached to touch Tom’s face. He said nothing, closing his eyes at the gentle touch of her hand. “What is it? What’s wrong, Tom?”

He took her hand, led her into the living room and guided her to the couch. They sat for a moment looking at each other. The phone continued ringing, the sound shrill and eruptive in the dark, lonely night. There were no lights; the only illumination came from the glowing coals in the fire. The phone stopped ringing.

Tom awkwardly fumbled with the buttons of Sara’s wet coat. Taking it off, he dropped it carelessly onto the floor. He took a bottle of brandy from the liquor cabinet. Removing the glass stopper, he took a long swig and then offered it to Sara. “Glass?” She shook her head, took the decanter from him. They passed it back and forth several times. The alcohol began to warm Tom as it spread though his body, to his arms and neck. Gradually, he started to relax. The phone rang again. Tom had no intention of answering it.

“Tom, aren’t you going to answer it? It must be important if whoever it is keeps calling. It might be Vivian. I left without telling her where I was going.” Realizing Tom was not going to pick up the phone, Sara did. “Hello?” There was no one there.

As soon as Sara hung up, it rang again. This time Tom picked it up. The sound of shrill laughter resounded from the receiver. After a moment, the recorded voice of the operator could be heard saying, “If you would like to make a call, please hang up and place your call again.” Tom replaced the receiver.

“Tom, I‘m waiting for an explanation. You scared me to death tonight. What’s going on?” Sara demanded.

He took another drink of brandy while he decided what to say. The last thing Tom wanted to do was make her angry.

Sara watched him, pursing her lips and twisting her hair around her finger, her foot tapped impatiently on the floor. “Well?”

Tom took a deep breath and said, “Sara, I know we haven’t known each other very long. It seems unbelievable, because it feels like I’ve known you for a very long time. There’s a connection I feel with you that I’ve never had with anyone before.” He paused and waited for her reaction. She remained stoic. He continued. “There are things you don’t know, couldn’t know, about me.” He took another sip of the liquor and passed the bottle to Sara. She put it to her lips, not taking her eyes off of him. A flash of lightening lit the room followed by the resounding boom of thunder; the storm was on top of them. Sara started to speak; Tom put his finger to her lips saying, “No, let me go on.”

Tom said softly, “When I held you earlier today, the void in me was filled. For the first time in years, I felt whole. I thought my reason for living was gone, and then today, I realized that maybe I had another chance at happiness. With you. I’m falling in love with you, Sara.”

Another lightning flash lit the room. Sara’s eyes filled with tears. She smiled and reached her hand to take his. He drew her into his arms, felt her kiss like the soft petal of a rose on his lips and tasted her tears, salty and cleansing like ocean mist. “Sara, stay with me tonight, I need you. Let me make love to you.”

As Sara caught her breath and started to speak, the phone rang, startling them both. “Answer it, Tom.” Sara handed the receiver to Tom. “It must be important.”

It was Vivian. “Tom, is Sara with you? I’m so worried. She left and didn’t tell anyone where she was going.”

“She’s here, Vivian. I had a small accident and needed her help.”

“What? Let me grab a coat. I’ll be right there. Have Sara meet me halfway; I hate walking in the dark. It’s raining cats and dogs again; I better get Billy to come with me.”

Tom interrupted. “Hold on, Vivian, I’m fine. Nothing serious, just a fall down the stairs in the dark.” Sara pulled on his sleeve. “Sara wants to talk to you.” He handed the phone to her outstretched hand.

“Stay home, Viv. The storm is horrible. I don’t want you falling on the slick rocks. The upper path is way too muddy to use. I’ll wait out the storm here. Tom will be fine, he just . . . ”

Tom pointed to his knee.

“ . . . twisted his knee. Don’t worry. I’ll be home when the storm passes, don’t wait up.”

“Well, if you’re sure. I hate to go out in this weather. And I had my hair done this afternoon, too. I’m sure you have everything under control. You call me if you need anything. Wake me when you get home.”

“I wouldn’t think of waking you, Viv. I know you need your rest. See you tomorrow.” Sara hung up the phone. It immediately rang again. She lifted the receiver. Dead air. “Tom, what in the world is going on with the phone?”

Unplugging it, Tom said, “Must be from the storm.”

“You fell down the stairs? Is that why you told me to come over when I called earlier? Because you were hurt?” She studied his face. “There’s more to this, isn’t there? If you want our relationship to go anywhere, you can’t keep things from me. Did something happen? Does it have to do with all these phone calls?”

“I didn’t fall. And yes, the phone calls have something to do with all of this but . . . I have so much to explain to you. Trust me, Sara, tonight is not the right time.”

Sara squeezed his hand. “What is it?”

“I have some issues I’m still dealing with, having to do with my wife’s death. I want to talk to you about her, but not tonight. Can you accept that?”

“Tom, I’m sorry. I had no idea. No one told me. Of course I’ll give you time. But you have to trust me, too.”

“Elise’s death has been a difficult and painful ordeal. I’ll tell you everything. In time. In my own way. I promise. But I’m not ready yet.” Tom put his arms around Sara, pulled her to him. “Now, will you stay with me, or do you want me to take you home?”

“Of course I’ll stay, Tom. I want to be with you, too.”

Taking her hand in his, Tom led her up the stairs and into his bedroom. He removed her muddy clothes, slowly without urgency. Sara stood before him, skin white as lily petals, soft as velvet to his touch. He lifted her into his arms, surprised at the lightness of her. He carried her across the room to the bed where he gently laid her on the blankets.

As she watched, he removed his own clothes, then lay beside her, relishing the warmth of her skin next to his as his thighs touched her thighs, his chest melted into her breasts. As their lips met, they forgot all else, save their passion.