Cassie followed Margot through the doorway on the left and found herself in a formal lounge with exquisite, showpiece furniture, and tapestries lining the walls. The room was huge and chilly; there was no fire lit in the massive fireplace.
This lounge is seldom used, and the children are not allowed in here. The main dining room is beyondthe same rules apply.
Cassie wondered how often the massive mahogany dining table was usedit looked pristine and she counted sixteen high-backed chairs. Three more vases, similar to the one Marc had broken earlier, stood on the darkly polished sideboard. She couldnt imagine happy dinner table conversation flowing in this austere and silent space.
What would it feel like growing up in such a house, where whole areas were off limits because of furnishings that could be damaged? She guessed that it might make a child feel as if they were less important than the furniture.
This we call the Blue Room. It was a smaller lounge, wallpapered in navy, with large French doors. Cassie guessed they opened out onto a patio or courtyard, but it was fully dark, and all she could see were the rooms dim lights reflected in the glass. She wished the house had higher-wattage globesall the rooms were gloomy, with shadows lurking in the corners.
A sculpture caught her eye the marble statues stand had been broken, so it lay face up on a table. Its features looked blank and immobile, as if the stone were coating a dead persons face. Its limbs were chunky and rudely carved. Cassie shivered, looking away from the creepy sight.
That is one of our most valuable pieces, Margot informed her. Marc knocked it over last week. We will have it repaired soon.
Cassie thought about the young boys destructive energy and the way he had knocked his shoulder into the vase earlier. Had the action been totally accidental? Or had there been a subliminal desire to shatter the glass, to get himself noticed in a world where possessions seemed to take priority?
Margot led her back the way they had come. The rooms down that passage are kept locked. The kitchen is this way, to the right, and beyond it are the servants quarters. There is a small parlor to the left, and a room where we dine as a family.
On the way back they passed a gray-uniformed butler carrying a broom, dustpan, and brush. He stood aside for them but Margot did not acknowledge him at all.
The west wing was a mirror image of the east. Huge, darkened rooms with exquisite furnishings and works of art. Quiet and empty. Cassie shivered, longing for a homey bright light or the familiar sound of a television, if such a thing even existed in this house. She followed Margot up the magnificent staircase to the second floor.
The guest wing. Three pristine bedrooms, with four-poster beds, were separated by two spacious drawing rooms. The bedrooms were as neat and formal as hotel rooms, and the bedcovers looked as if they had been ironed flat.
And the family wing.
Cassie brightened, glad to finally reach the part of the house where people lived.
The nursery.
To her confusion, this was another empty room, occupied only by a tall crib with high, barred sides.
And here, the childrens bedrooms. Our suite is at the end of the passage, around the corner.
Three closed doors in a row. Margots voice dropped and Cassie guessed she didnt want to look in on the childrennot even to say good night.
This is Antoinettes bedroom, this is Marcs, and the closest to ours is Ellas. Your room is opposite Antoinettes.
The door was open and two maids were busily making up the bed. The room was enormous and icy cold. It was furnished with two wingback chairs, a table, and a large wooden wardrobe. Heavy red curtains shrouded the window. Her suitcase had been placed at the foot of the bed.
You will hear the children if they cry or callplease attend to them. Tomorrow morning they need to be dressed and ready by eight. They will be going outdoors, so choose warm clothing.
I will, but Cassie gathered her courage. Could I please have some supper? Ive had nothing to eat since dinner on the plane last night.
Margot stared at her, perplexed, then shook her head.
The children ate early because we are going out. The kitchen is closed now. Breakfast will be served from seven tomorrow. You can wait till then?
II suppose so. She felt sick with hungerthe forbidden candy in her bag, intended for the children, suddenly an irresistible temptation.
And I must email the agency and let them know Im here. Would it be possible to have the Wi-Fi password? My phone has no signal.
Now Margots stare grew blank. We have no Wi-Fi, and there is no cell phone signal here. Only a landline telephone in Pierres study. To send an email, you must go into town.
Without waiting for Cassies response, she turned away and headed toward the main bedroom.
The maids had gone, leaving Cassies bed in a state of chilly perfection.
She closed the door.
Shed never dreamed she would feel homesick, but at that moment she longed for a friendly voice, the babble of the television, the clutter of a full refrigerator. Dishes in the sink, toys on the floor, YouTube videos playing on phones. The happy chaos of a normal familythe life shed expected to become a part of.
Instead, she felt she was already embroiled in a bitter and complicated conflict. She could never have hoped to be instant friends with these childrennot with the family dynamics that had played out so far. This place was a battlegroundand while she might find an ally in young Ella, she feared she had already made an enemy in Antoinette.
The ceiling light, which had been flickering, suddenly failed. Cassie fumbled in her backpack for her phone and unpacked as best she could in the flashlights beam, before plugging it into the only visible plug point on the opposite side of the room and shuffling through the darkness to her bed.
Cold, apprehensive, and hungry, she climbed between the chilly sheets and pulled them up to her chin. Shed expected to feel more hopeful and positive after meeting the family, but instead she found herself doubting her ability to cope with them, and dreading what the following day would bring.
CHAPTER FOUR
The statue stood in Cassies doorway, framed by darkness.
Its lifeless eyes opened and its mouth parted as it moved toward her. The hairline cracks around its lips widened, and then its entire face began to disintegrate. Fragments of marble showered down and rattled on the floor.
No, Cassie whispered, but found she could not move. She was trapped in bed, her limbs frozen even though her panicked mind implored her to flee.
The statue made its way toward her, arms outstretched, stone chips cascading from its limbs. It began to scream, a high, thin sound, and as it did, she saw what was being exposed under the marble shell.
Her sisters face. Cold, gray, dead.
No, no, no! Cassie shouted, and her own cries woke her.
The room was pitch dark; she was curled in a shivering ball. She sat up, panicked, groping for a light switch that wasnt there.
Her worst fear the one she tried hard to suppress by day, but which found its way into nightmares. It was the fear that Jacqui had died. Because why else would her sister have suddenly stopped communicating? Why had there been no letters, no phone calls, no word from her for years?
Shaking with cold and fear, Cassie realized the clattering stones in her dream had become the sound of rain, gusting in the wind, drumming against the window glass. And above the rain, she heard another sound. One of the children was screaming.