Page 55 of Breaking the Dark

She pushes open the door into the bathroom. Curled into a gnarly ball on a threadbare bath mat is the very elderly cat. He looks up at Jessica with rheumy eyes and then attempts to uncurl himself from his ball to come and greet her.

As a newly ordained cat person, Jessica is pleased to meet him, and gives the poor creature a few scratches, then turns the faucet on and off, flushes the toilet, and creeps away from the bathroom and farther down the back hallway. Here there is a small brass handle embedded into the rose-print wallpaper and Jessica tiptoes slowly, ancient floorboards creaking gently underfoot, until at the far end of the hallway her hand goes out toward the brass knob. She touches it but is startled by the sound of a throat clearing behind her. She jumps, her hand on her chest, turns to see Debra.

“Everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry. I was, er, these old houses, they kind of fascinate me, and I saw this secret door thing. I was just being really nosy.”

Debra smiles. “I understand. It’s tantalizing, isn’t it. Do you want me to show you?”

Jessica throws her an uncertain look. “What, is there like a hobbit in there?”

Debra laughs before turning the handle and pulling open the secret door, to reveal a brick wall.

“Oh,” says Jessica, her eyes searching the solid surface for some clue as to why it is there.

“Yeah. I know. Weird, isn’t it? Think maybe there must have been something there, once upon a time, and they knocked it down. But who knows with a house as old as this one. It’ll be full of secrets.” She waves toward the brick wall. “You going to put that in your novel?”

Jessica looks at her curiously.

“Belle told me.”

Jessica nods. “Yeah, you know, I might. That and the ancient cat that lives in the bathroom.”

“Ah, yes. Mr. Smith. He has been on this Earth for a very, very long time.”

“How old is he?”

“Nobody really knows. He was old when I adopted him, and I’ve had him for fifteen years. He must be at least twenty.”

“Wow.”

“Yes. Every day’s a gift. Anyway, since you’re here, why don’t you stay for lunch? Lamb’s nearly ready.”

The smell of roasting meat is wafting down the hall toward them and Jessica has not eaten today. “That would be great, thank you so much.”

The dogs sit and watch them eat. They pant heavily. One of them has a slick of drool hanging from its jowls. Jessica sees Belle feed them shreds of lamb from her plate when Debra isn’t looking.

“So…” says Debra. “What brought you here to Barton Wallop for this novel you’re writing?”

“I had a dream.”

“Seriously?”

“For real. Crazy, huh?”

“And was there something in your dream that led you to this house in particular?”

Jessica folds her napkin neatly and puts it back on her lap. “Well, no. Not as such. It was actually the house in the village that I had a dream about, the one with the moat?”

“Oh.” One of Debra’s eyebrows shoots up. “Ha.”

“Do you know it?”

“Well, yes, of course. It’s the fanciest house in the village. Obviously I know it.”

“The guy who lives there invited me over for a tour yesterday. Sebastian Randall?”

“Oh yes, I’ve heard the name.”

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