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Word Count: 1,599
Genre: Sort of angst, deals with loss and isolation I guess, but not in a deep heart aching kind of way
Summary: Grace hated this house. It was far too big, dank and dreary. It seemed lifeless, and far too quiet. She scrunched her eyes shut praying to open them again and find herself somewhere, anywhere, else. Unfortunately for her she was running low on wishes and when she opened her eyes she saw the dull white ceiling of one of the many guest rooms of the Reed mansion.
A/N: Funnily enough this started out as a vampire novel length story, eventually I realised that was innapropriate for 6th year coursework....
Grace hated this house. It was far too big, dank and dreary. It seemed lifeless, and far too quiet. She scrunched her eyes shut praying to open them again and find herself somewhere, anywhere, else. Unfortunately for her she was running low on wishes and when she opened her eyes she saw the dull white ceiling of one of the many guest rooms of the Reed mansion. Sighing in frustration she threw off the bedcovers and sat up swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She sat there for a minute, then got up sharply. She walked over to the mahogany desk in the far right corner and picked up her dressing gown which was lying over the back of the chair.
Her feet padded softly on the deep red rug as she made her way over to the balcony doors. Slipping into her dressing gown she opened the doors and stepped outside onto the cold concrete. Grace took a deep breath of the chilly April morning air. The icy blast of morning air having succeed in waking her up, she took another step further out and surveyed the dreary landscape.
Grey. It was all grey. The moors surrounding the house looked cold and lifeless. The perfect location for the house, she thought. Shivering slightly now, she made her way back inside and closed the doors behind her, shutting out the cold draught.
Sighing, she made her way to the adjoining bathroom to get ready for what was sure to be another long and boring day.
* * *
"Miss Grace?"
Grace looked up from the kitchen counter where she had been preparing herself a sandwich. Standing in the doorway of the unnecessarily large kitchen was her aunt’s maid Mildred.
"Hi Milly!" she said absently as she cut the bread. There was a few moments of silence. "Was there something you wanted?"
"Oh! Yes! Mrs. Reed requested your presence," she said tucking an errant strand of blonde hair behind her ear and then smoothing her skirt nervously.
"OK. I’ll be there in a minute, as soon as I’ve tidied this up."
"Don’t worry Miss, I’ll do that."
"You don’t have-"
"It’s no trouble."
"OK thank you then," Grace said as she headed towards the door that led to the hall. "Put my sandwich in the fridge will you?" she called back to Mildred as she turned the corner into the hall.
Walking quickly through the depressingly dismal corridors of the old house Grace’s thoughts travelled to pondering what her aunt wanted.
Grace’s Great Aunt, Jane Elizabeth Reed, was the owner of this house, and the reason why Grace was currently residing there. For a while now Jane had been unwell, she was bed ridden, with considerably far progressed emphysema. With no other family remaining she had contacted Grace to inform her of her ill health. Jane’s sister, Grace’s aunt, had been her only other living relative, but she had died just over two years ago after suffering a severe heart attack; Grace’s parents had died when she was just three and so Grace remained Jane’s only living heir.
Feeling obligated to be with her aunt in her remaining days Grace had travelled from her apartment just outside London, having recently completed a degree in Ancient History at the University of London.
Grace had to concentrate to remember which day of the week it was, it was easy to lose track of time here, where barely any time seemed to pass at all. Tuesday. It was Tuesday, the day the doctor came out to see Jane. That is probably what she wants to discuss, Grace reasoned as she reached the top of the stairs and approached her aunts door.
She knocked tentatively.
"Aunt Jane?" she called as she turned the old fashioned brass door knob and slowly pushed the door open. "Aunt Jane?" she called louder to announce her presence.
"There’s no need to shout child, I’m not deaf you know," her aunt croaked from her four poster bed in the centre of the large room.
"Come in and close the door behind you, you’re letting a draught in," she snapped wheezily. Grace did so and walked closer to the bed, studying her appearance discreetly as she did. Jane was deathly pale, each line on her bloodless face seemed to be accentuated more than it used to be, her weak arms lay limp at her sides. But what struck Grace most was the lack of the usual spark in Jane’s eyes, it was like that spark had flickered and died, and she herself wasn’t far behind by the looks of things.
"Stop staring girl," Jane said, snapping Grace out of reverie. "It’s most irksome."
"Sorry," Grace said quickly. "You wanted to see me?"
"Yes I did," she replied wearily. "I half wondered if you had been struck down on your way it took you so long, no doubt that poor excuse for a maid took her time in informing you."
"I wouldn’t know," Grace replied diplomatically, knowing how much her aunt enjoyed taking out her frustrations on her staff.
"Anyhow, I wanted to inform you that Doctor Scott will be arriving after lunch, at two o’clock," she said disdainfully, as if she resented the idea that she was dependent on someone else to monitor her health. Grace nodded.
"Would you like me to be present?" she asked.
"If you wish," Jane sniffed.
"I’ll be here," she said, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth at her aunts stubborn streak. Grace turned to exit, as she reached the door Jane spoke.
"Do send up Mildred with the lunch, it’s already seven minutes past twelve," she said grumpily, she always was one for routine.
"Only if you promise to eat it all today."
"I will eat all of it if she prepares all of it adequately." Grace smiled at her aunts response and left the room, shutting the door behind her, also shutting out the sound of disgruntled mumblings about ‘incompetent staff’.
* * *
Some two hours later, Grace opened her eyes to the study of the mansion. She looked down at the book on her lap and realised she hadn’t been reading it properly from the moment she started, reading the words but not digesting them. Shutting the book she got up and replaced it on one of the many bookshelves. She stretched her arms behind her back and cracked her fingers. Glancing at the clock she noticed it was almost time for the doctor to arrive.
Grabbing the book back off of the shelf she headed out to the entrance hall. She sat down in a chair against the wall near the door and attempted to continue reading. Ten minutes later the doorbell chimed. Mildred came rushing into the entrance hall and towards the door before Grace even had the chance to get up. She opened the door with a welcoming smile on her face.
"Good afternoon Doctor Scott," she said.
"Afternoon Mildred," he said in his deep resonating voice. Doctor Scott was a tall, slim man in his late thirties with mousy brown hair that was prematurely streaked here and there with grey.
"Shall I show you to Mrs. Reed’s room?" she asked.
"Don’t worry, I will," Grace said. Mildred almost jumped out of her skin as she still hadn’t realised Grace was there.
"Grace, nice to see you."
"You too Doctor Scott."
"How many times?" he said exasperatedly as she lead him towards the stairs. "Call me Andrew."
She rolled her eyes. "Fine, Andrew."
"So, how is she today?"
"Her stubborn old self," she said smiling, then she paused and the smile slid off her face. "But she was looking more pale, and she hardly moved at all. Maybe she was too weak? I don’t know," she said shaking her head.
"Probably, I’ve said before that I firmly believe it’s that stubborn streak of hers which is why she’s still with us," he commented dryly. Grace laughed.
"Probably."
They walked the rest of the way in a companionable silence. When they reached the door to her aunt’s room Grace knocked quietly. There was no response so she knocked a bit louder.
"Aunt Jane?" she called. Again there was no response so she opened the door and went in, Doctor Scot followed her. She turned round to close the door behind them, to prevent any draft, while he went over to Jane’s bedside.
When she turned round to face them her heart dropped into her stomach. Andrew was taking her pulse with a far to serious look on his face. Jane herself looked beyond pale, she was ghostly white.
"What is it?" she said, not really wanting to hear the answer "Should I call an ambulance?"
"I’m sorry Grace," he said sadly, "She’s been here a while, there’s nothing we can do."
Grace nodded absently, looking at the weathered face of her great aunt, who although she had been unbelievingly rude and seemingly uncaring, had always been there for Grace, albeit in a detached sort of way, when she needed her most.
"Grace?" Andrew said laying a hand on her arm. She jumped, not remembering him crossing the room. "Do you want me to sort things out?"
"Yes," she said quietly. "Please." He nodded and headed towards the door. When he reached it he turned round to ask her if she was going to be all right. However when he saw the smile on her face he frowned in confusion.
"What?" he asked her.
Smiling at him she replied, "She ate all her lunch."
