Unspeakable Read Online Free PDF Page A

table and chairs, the china cabinet, the settee, all of it lay hidden under great white sheets. Even the piano in the centre of the room stood deathly silent. Hidden. This front room was never used. Most of them weren’t. Over the years, Aunt Geraldine had shut down Strandview Manor, closing it off room by room, storey by storey as she retreated eventually to her study in the turret. To the stories in her mind.
    â€œAre you sure you don’t want Lily to clear away these dust covers?”
    â€œNo.” What was the point? For whom? It suited me to sit in dead rooms, shrouded in grief. I deserved no better.

    â€œMr. Cronin mentioned he’d need to discuss some legal matters … when you’re ready,” Bates added.
    Poor Bates had been run off his feet answering the door, especially that first week after I’d returned, what with doctors and priests visiting Aunt Geraldine during the final days of her coma. Days when her body remained, but the woman inside was long gone. A shell of herself. I felt like that now, numbed, hollowed by grief and regrets. I’d no idea she’d been that ill. She’d been closed, withdrawn in our few conversations when I’d been back between crossings. I’d assumed it was me. That I’d disappointed her yet again. I’d been so caught up in my own story, I’d given no thought to hers.
    The bell rang again. Bates’s voice mumbled in the hallway. “Just another reporter looking for Ellen Ryan,” he said as he returned. “I’ve told Lily to send them packing if they come around again.”
    I sighed. Somehow these men had made the connection between the young Empress of Ireland stewardesses and Strandview Manor. Perhaps they’d gotten a peek at the job files at the Canadian Pacific Railway head office. Who knew—they were resourceful, those reporters, and relentless.
    Thankfully, Aunt Geraldine had had the foresight to register me under Ryan, my mother’s maiden name. Only Meg, Aunt Geraldine, and Bates knew the truth—and two of them were dead now. Even Lily, the current young maid, believed Ellie Ryan was just a maid who used to work here. She didn’t connect that name to me. My secret was safe.
    â€œRight, then,” Bates soldiered on. “Lily is here if you need anything.”

    I nodded. At fourteen, Lily wasn’t much help. I was only four years older, but it felt like a lifetime. Bates had hired her to replace Meg when we set sail last year but the girl was hopeless. Still, it wasn’t Lily’s fault. She’d never fill Meg’s shoes as a maid. And no one could as a friend. Not after all Meg and I had gone through.
    God, I missed her.
    Bates nodded as if reading my thoughts. Meg was his granddaughter, his only family. How the old man must grieve. It was hard enough to say goodbye to Aunt Geraldine at her funeral yesterday, but she was elderly. And as I’d recently learned, she was ill. But the old should never have to bury the young—it isn’t right. Bates cleared his throat and propped his driver’s cap on his wispy white hair as he left. I wondered where he went, what he did with his free time now that Aunt Geraldine wasn’t here to order him about. Without Aunt Geraldine here to tell us, none of us knew what to do, really. As much as we hated her controlling ways, she was both rudder and sail. Controlling my life, and now, even her death. She’d taken care of every detail, right down to her funeral reception’s sandwiches. Who did she think was coming? I’d wondered when I saw the huge platters, for she’d outlived any friends and ignored acquaintances. She had no time for family—though she had only her nephew (my father) and me. Being the matriarch, living eighty long years, I suppose she could do what the hell she liked. And Great-Aunt Geraldine did exactly that.
    The church had been full yesterday, true enough. Fans, I guessed. G.B.