The House on Blackstone Moor (The Blackstone Vampires) Read Free Page B

here.” I turned to see a short stout woman of early middle age. Her features were plain but her face was kind. She pointed toward a seat. “Here, I’ll serve you.”
    The vastness of the room made every sound echo. It was beginning to make me feel ill.
    I have told you already about the state I was in and how it tended to change with my moods. Sometimes I felt myself and other times not. And so, at this point, the noise and the space began to cause me to feel sick.
    “There, are you alright?”
    I wasn’t but I nodded, while trying to get my breath.
    She looked around as if to be certain she could have a word without being yelled at by someone. “I’m Grace Poole,” she said. “I am an inmate here, same as you. Don’t be afraid, lass. It’ll be better for you if you act like you don’t care.”
    My eyes filled with tears as I nodded. You see, I knew this was important advice from someone who not only knew but cared.
    She was a friend, a kind caring person and not an enemy. How lucky I was at last!
    “I shall get your meal, dumplings and bread. ’ Tis luncheon but I shall give you some drippings from yesterday. Don’t worry , I’ll give you extra, lass.”
    As I watched her leave I did try so hard to get a hold of myself. But her kindness had the untoward effect of moving me so as to feel nearly out of control. This was a bad bout of nerves I was having and I was afraid I might become hysterical.
    She returned with my food. “Eat it slow, dear. So it don’t come back up.”
    She smiled then and told me she had some chores to do, but that she’d be back afterwards.
    I had been at a table by myself but then three sad-looking women came shuffling over. They moved slowly as if they hadn’t the energy to move any faster. Their eyes were blank and haunted looking. I wondered if they’d speak to me, but they didn’t. They just sat silently and waited until Grace served them.
    The dumplings were heavy but I was grateful.
    *
    Grace had come over to talk to me but suddenly Dr. Bannion appeared. He looked so serious. “I do need to talk to you again about that incident.”
    Yes, the incident, that strange and terrible occurrence that was an invasion of my privacy and would have been a nightmare even under better circumstances.
    “I know it isn’t pleasant but I really need for you to tell me whatever you can remember. It is vitally important.”
    “I was sleeping and I heard the door open and there was heavy breathing…” My voice trailed off. This was hard, impossible really, and I began to cry.
    “Rose, I understand it is terribly difficult for you, but I am turning this matter over to the police and I need as much information as possible.”
    I tried to think, recalling everything I could. “No sir, that was all. There isn’t anything else I can tell you other than what I’ve said.”
    He knew there was more. I could tell from the way he looked at me. “Are you certain there is nothing else you wish to tell me?”
    I opened my mouth to speak the truth—the sad, dirty truth, but I could not find the words so I said, “No sir, I have nothing else to say now.”
    “Well, perhaps another time.” He sighed and put the pen down. His face looked terribly serious. I knew he had something awful to tell me. “Rose, I did get some sad news this morning by special messenger, prepare yourself.”
    I knew it all at once. “My aunt?”
    He nodded. “Yes, it seems your aunt died two days ago. I am sorry.”
    I didn’t cry. I don’t think I had any tears left. All I could do was picture her little house with its rose garden overlooking the sea in Sussex. “She was all alone, there was only a charwoman. Who will bury her?”
    “Hasn’t she any other family?”
    Other family? As in, are there any other relatives aside from me, her deranged great niece, the only surviving member of her family’s carnage?
    “No sir. Just me,” I answered quietly.
    “I’d like you to read this. Feel up to it?”
    I nodded