AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“As I was saying, that’s funny that your third floor’s just an attic,” said Barnaby. “From the outside this house looks like it would be three stories. Three finished stories, I mean. You’ve got all those dormer windows in the attic. Those aren’t bedrooms? Our house has third floor bedrooms.”
“Maybe our third floor bedrooms were added at a later time, Deuce,” said Priscilla.
“No, Prissy.” Barnaby shook his head. “They’re original. You can tell. All the doors and woodwork match. And there are radiators up there. They’re definitely original.”
“Well, we just have an attic,” said Tom.
“How do you get to it?” asked Barnaby.
“Deuce…” said Priscilla. Tom and I exchanged a glance, which Priscilla noticed. “Barnaby is a junior,” she explained. “His dad is Barnaby the first. Deuce is Barn’s nickname.”
“This must be it,” said Barnaby, going back to the servant area and opening a tall, skinny door in the hallway. “I figured your attic stairs would go right over your kitchen stairs. I should have known it was an attic and not another finished story, or there would have been an open staircase. Mind if I have at it?”
“Go right ahead,” said Tom.
“Deuce is a self-taught old house detective,” said Priscilla.
“This is much better than what I was picturing,” said Barnaby, once we were all up there. “You made it sound like it was going to be a real bare bones situation. I was picturing only rafters and maybe not even floorboards. This is good, though. The possibilities are endless. It’s just going to take a little hard work. Here’s a thought: You could turn it into one of those upstairs family rooms.”
“I don’t know,” said Tom. “There are chimneys running everywhere. I think we’ve got enough to handle on the first floors.”
“What’s your cellar like?” asked Barnaby.
“Scary,” I said.
“So is ours,” said Priscilla. “I think all these old mansions have scary basements.”
“Part of it has a dirt floor. I hate it,” I added. I was looking for some reassurance that this was normal. That it was how they did things in this part of the world, and not a sign that we’d picked the wrong house.
“Dirt floor?” Priscilla asked, fanning her face with her hand. “Heavens!”
“Let’s check it out,” said Barnaby.
“Deuce, honey, it’s after midnight. Let’s leave our new neighbors alone,” said Priscilla.
“They don’t mind showing us the cellar, Prissy. Do you, Tom?” asked Barnaby.
“Well…” I smiled at Tom. “We are pretty exhausted, right?”
“It’s been a long day,” said Tom, mercifully accepting my cues. “I hope you understand.”
“Of course we do,” said Priscilla.
“Why don’t we show it to you another time?” asked Tom. He began turning off lights and led us back down to the main floor.
“Where are you going to sleep?” asked Priscilla when we were once again standing in our front hall, surrounded by boxes, rolled up rugs, and haphazardly strewn furniture. “Where’s your bed? Do you need us to help you get it set up?”
“We’re going to sleep on an air mattress tonight and tomorrow we’re going bed shopping,” said Tom.
“Why don’t you have a bed?” asked Barnaby, aghast. Again with the bug eyes.
“We had one, but it wasn’t that nice, so we decided we’d get a new one for ourselves once we moved,” I said.
“Come and stay in one of our guest rooms,” said Priscilla.
“No, we couldn’t,” I said. And, compressed by the weight of two and a half hours of mind-numbing chitchat piled on top of a full day’s work, I meant it. “That’s really generous of you, but we’re looking forward to staying here.”
“You’ll have the rest of your lives to stay here,” said Barnaby. “We insist you stay at our house. I mean, really, we have three guest rooms to choose from.”
