The Haunting of Maddy Clare Read Online Free PDF Page A

a few small houses, a church and churchyard. The road we traveled now was rutted and narrow. I saw no evidence of other motorcars, or any other type of vehicle. The few houses were old, set well back from the main road on winding drives; they were small, wood and stone, well maintained, with warm yellow light in the windows. We werein a very old part of England, though not a rich one. It was a great contrast to London, with its metal and glass. Beyond the small village I could see rolling fields, green hills, and dense woods.
    At length Mr. Gellis stopped the car. He came around and opened my door for me. I stepped out, stifling a groan as my legs cramped from the long drive. I stood in the sudden fall of silence and looked about me.
    We were in the courtyard of a small inn; I could see a swan on the sign over the door, though I could not read the scripted writing in the dark. The inn stood two stories, one lumped atop the other, with sloping gables and mullioned windows from which dim light winked. I felt gravel through the thin soles of my shoes. The silence was absolute; not a sound could be heard but the faint rush of a breeze in the treetops and the faraway cry of a bird. After the noise of London, then the rumble of the motorcar all day, my ears were ringing, and as the darkening gloom settled over the landscape and the wind hushed through the far-off trees, it seemed eerie to me, as if the world had ended and all humanity had disappeared.
    I turned to see Mr. Gellis looking at me. There was an expression of good humor on his face, mixed with a keen observance that I was learning to find familiar. “Lovely spot, isn’t it?” he said.
    The wind touched my hair, and I pushed a few stray locks from my forehead. “I don’t know. I’ve never been in the country.”
    His eyebrows went up. “Never?”
    I shook my head. “I was raised in Brixton. I live in the city now.”
    “A city girl,” he said, opening the boot of the motorcar and removing our bags. “Never to the seaside on holiday? Never to a cousin’s house on school break?”
    I shook my head again.
    “Well, then, I suppose this will be good for you.” He closedthe boot, and I paid silent tribute to his tact in not mentioning my lack of family and friends. “Fresh air, and all that. What is it they say? It will put some color in your cheeks?”
    “Mr. Gellis.” A man came toward us from the inn, tugging on an overcoat and a gray cloth cap.
    “Yes,” said Mr. Gellis. “You must be Mr. Ahearn.”
    The man nodded, but did not smile. “Yes, sir. You may leave the bags there. I have a boy who will bring them upstairs for you.”
    Inside, we passed the wide entrance to the taproom, which was beginning to fill. I caught a glimpse of low, dark wooden beams on the ceiling, heard a few chortles of male laughter and the clink of a glass. But I had no desire to go farther, and at a nod from Mr. Gellis I followed a maid up the stairs and to a small room, where my bags had been laid, and I could at last rest and freshen myself.
    There was not much I could do. My blouse was hopelessly wrinkled, as was my skirt. My stockings needed rinsing, but I was not ready for bed just yet. I went to the small basin and splashed water on my face. In the cloudy mirror I did my best. I had my dark hair cut in a bob, as was the fashion of the time; and though, like most girls, I wished I could put my hair in pretty curls, styled close to my head, the way the movie stars did, I could not afford the style, the marcel iron, or the tins of gloss and packets of pins needed to maintain it. I also, in my low state of mind lately, could not bring myself to spend an hour a day on my hair, no matter how stylish I wished to look.
    And so I had a simple bob, cropped below my earlobes. My hair was a chocolate brown color, nondescript, I thought, and it sat straight without much fuss, except when the breeze blew it into my eyes. On such occasions it was just long enough that I could tuck