We walked inside, and I gaped. The entrance hall was massive; the ceiling was the highest I’d ever seen, painted a deep blue that gave it the feel of a sweeping night sky. Huge, elaborate crystal chandeliers hung overhead and, when you looked down, the floor was a vast chess board of black and white tiles, that if you looked at for too long, played tricks on your eyes.
“It’s beautiful,” I said, taking it all in.
“It’s been in the family for over 200 years, but it’s too big for us. We turned it into an Airbnb so other people can also enjoy it. It’s called Sugar Manor because this used to be a sugar plantation.”
I ran my eyes over the majestic place and felt something prickle at the back of my neck, as if something had suddenly walked behind me. I swung around and looked; there was nothing there. I shivered to myself, hoping this place wasn’t haunted. Not that I believed in such things, but still, the feeling I was getting from Sugar Manor was completely strange, as if my subconscious knew something about it that my conscious mind didn’t. As if it had sensed a secret that I wasn’t privy to yet.
We walked down the hallway and passed a few closed doors as we went. “We’ve only turned one room on this side of the house into a guest room. When there’s more time, we’ll do the rest. We’re doing everything by hand, ourselves. But you’re staying in the best bedroom,” Ash said, slipping a key into an old wooden door. The door opened with a creak and I stepped inside. The room was exactly like the photos, and the big bay window immediately beckoned to me.
“There’s firewood for the fire; it gets a little chilly here at night, by the river. Breakfast is served between six and nine, and that’s in the room at the end of the passage. If you need anything, I’m on the other side of the house. You can go outside and walk round it, or there’s a door at the end of the hall that leads through. We don’t use it that much, so it could be full of spider webs. Or you can just call me anytime, if you need anything!” she said happily, and I found myself smiling at her. She seemed to be one of those genuinely happy people; you don’t meet them very often, but when you do, you know. The kind that breezes through life, not because their lives are easier than yours, but because they approach everything with a certain upbeat, roll-with-the-punches kind of attitude. I definitely wasn’t that kind of person. I didn’t take things in my stride, my glass was usually half-empty and I found navigating the corridors of life hard at the best of times, let alone the times when stuff was hitting the fan, like now. I’d always envied people like this. I usually didn’t like them, for that reason, but Ash seemed different. There was something about her that I instantly liked, and I didn’t instantly like many people.
I gazed around the room again; everything looked perfect, especially that free-standing bathtub that was just calling my name.
“I love it,” I said, with a smile.
“Great. Call if you need anything.” She started to leave.
“Do you do dinner here, or is it just a bed and breakfast?” I didn’t really want to venture into town, for fear of bumping into a certain man in uniform.
“Sorry, only breakfast.”
“No worries; I’ll just run into town, then,” I assured her.
Ash exited and I was on my own again. I put my invisible cat down on the floor and started unpacking my suitcase. I needed to get some work done. Now that I knew what the engraving on the tree said, I could use that in one of the letters—not that I fully understood what it meant, at all. I took a handful of the letters out and started reading them. I’d transcribe them later and creatively color in some of the blanks.
