Ruin

Ruin Read Online Free PDF Page A

Book: Ruin Read Online Free PDF
Author: C.J. Scott
up the front steps and Jane tugged at the vines strangling one of the magnificent front columns. Her efforts didn't remove it.
    I tripped over a broken tile on the front porch and Ben caught my elbow, steadying me.
    "Thanks," I muttered, staring up into dancing blue eyes.
    "Be careful," he said.
    "There's a few more safety hazards since the last time I was here. Jane, you really should have asked my Dad to come and fix these tiles."
    "And paid him how? He doesn't need a roof over his head or someone to cook him dinner."
    I sighed. Sometimes I wondered who was more stubborn, Jane or her grandmother.
    "Actually," Ben said, "I was going to cook."
    Jane and I stared at him. "Why?" I asked.
    "I like cooking, and I haven't had a chance to do it in a long time."
    I was about to ask him why not, but decided not to. Besides, I was still stunned at meeting a guy who liked to cook.
    "Sure," Jane said. "You can make dinner. I'm not that great a cook anyway."
    "Do you have a grill?"
    "Not one that works."
    "A stove?"
    "Of course she has a stove," I said. "They don't live in the Dark Ages."
    Jane pushed open one of the heavy double front doors. The smell of dust and damp wafted out. I was used to it, but now I saw the house through a stranger's eyes as Ben looked around. He took in the threadbare carpet covering the broken floorboards, the gaps on the wood paneled walls where old paintings had once hung before being sold off, and the darkness. Mrs. M didn't like the curtains to be open, even during the day. Daylight hurt her eyes apparently. Despite all the problems, the entrance hall was still a statement of grandeur. The dominant central staircase split in two halfway up, each side sweeping left and right in arcs to the next floor. It was a staircase made for dramatic entrances by debutantes and socialites. High above us, the cobweb-shrouded chandelier hung like a planet in space. None of the hundred-odd globes had worked in years.
    Jane put a finger to her lips. "Shhh. Gran's having her afternoon nap. Come with me to the kitchen."
    We walked down the long corridor to the back where the servants would have once bustled about, fixing dinner for the Merriweathers. It was much the same as it would have been a century ago with the enormous iron cooker, the large central workbench, and the collection of pots and pans hanging from ceiling hooks above it. Sometimes I thought I could still hear the echoes of those busy servants, barking orders, chatting and sometimes singing to pass the time.
    Ben must have felt it too. He set his duffle bag down and ran his fingers along a deep cut in the benchtop. He looked around and breathed deeply. "This is an amazing place," he said.
    "Amazingly old and tired, you mean," Jane muttered. "I'm sorry about the conditions. It's tough to keep it all going." Her voice hitched and she looked away.
    "Hey, it's better than my place," Ben said cheerfully.
    "You have a place?" I asked.
    "No."
    I laughed and Jane smiled. "Put the steaks in the fridge for later," I said. "Let's show Ben to his room."
    "But I haven't made it up," she said.
    "We'll do it now while he gets to work on...something."
    "I'm spoiled for choice," Ben said.
    "Sorry," Jane muttered.
    "Stop apologizing." I grabbed her hand. "Come on."
    Ben picked up his bag again, and we returned to the entrance foyer. We climbed the stairs to the next floor. Jane and I tiptoed across the landing. Ben tried, but he was too big not to make any noise. One of the floorboards creaked.
    "Is that you, Jane?" called old Mrs. M from behind the first closed door on our left.
    "Yes, Gran," Jane called back. "I've got some friends with me. I'll be there in a minute."
    "Friends? What friends? Jane Merriweather, who have you brought here? I demand to know."
    "It's just me, Mrs. M," I shouted. "Kate Bell."
    "Oh. You."
    I rolled my eyes at Jane. Her grandmother had never really liked me, but I didn't take it personally. It was more my position in the social order that she didn't
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