“You two are just…” She pressed a hand to her chest. Then she shook her head a little before reaching into her bag. “Oh, I guess I should give you these. I’ve been certified in CPR as well as—”
A sharp knock on the door interrupted her.
“Sorry,” Smith said, swiveling around. “Yes?”
The door opened to reveal Benjamin, our foreman, wearing a yellow hard hat and a grim face. “Sorry to interrupt, but we have a situation.”
“A situation?” Smith repeated, already on his feet.
“You might want to come down to the wine cellar.”
Smith followed him out the door, and I found myself rising, torn between going after them and propriety. I glanced at Nora, who was still holding her paperwork.
“I had no idea remodeling was so exciting,” I admitted to her. “Shall we go see what new headache they’ve encountered?”
“I’m game.” Nora dropped the papers on the table with a grin.
As soon as we stepped foot out of the reception room, I realized the house was eerily silent. All construction had stopped. That couldn’t be a good sign.
“How long have you lived here?” Nora asked as we wound our way down the circular staircase to the lower ground floor where the pool, wine cellar, and storage was located.
“We’re only here off and on. We still spend most of our time in the city.”
“London?” she asked, sounding excited. “I’d love to live there.”
“We have a house there. I guess we can’t quite let go of the city life.”
“I love London. Sussex has its own charms, but, honestly, I’m not sure I’d give up the city, either,” she said, adding quickly, “Of course, you have a good reason.”
“We’ll see.” I wasn’t ready to commit to either Thornham or London on a permanent basis. But I couldn’t help wishing whatever they’d found in the cellar would sway me one way or another.
“You should come with us, the next time we go,” I found myself telling her. I liked Nora, and maybe meeting my new nanny was the excuse I needed to get Clara and Edward into the same room. Although, I’d have to come up with an Alexander-approved neutral location. If the idea of living in London excited Nora, I’m not certain she could handle being marched into Buckingham.
“Oh, I’d love that. There’s a darling little children’s clothing store right—”
“Ladies,” Smith cut her off, slipping out of the wine cellar and blocking our path, “I think we should wrap this up upstairs.”
I knew my husband well-enough to see he was ruffled. His shoulders were squared, his muscles tensed, as though he was on alert.
“What is it?” I asked in a soft voice.
Smith nudged us back toward the stairs, shaking his head. “Nothing. I’m sure it will all be fine.”
Fine. There was that word again. Why did people insist on saying fine when what they meant was fucked up?
“What’s going on?” I peered over his shoulder just as the cellar door swung open, giving me a glimpse of a pile of pale ivory rocks. My head turned instinctively as if it knew what I was trying to see before I’d found the right word for it: skulls.
3
Smith
My wine cellar now sported a line of police tape, a half finished floor, and no hope of being finished by the end of the month. I’d sent Belle up for a nap hours ago in what was likely a futile attempt to keep her from getting upset. She’d handled the sight of a pile of remains found in her new home remarkably well. I wasn’t sure that would hold with time.
“Mr. Price,” Detective Longborn, a stump of a man with a handlebar mustache better suited to a different century, ambled toward me, scratching his head. “Someone will be by tomorrow to collect the bones. I’m sorry we can’t get anyone out here sooner.”
“I don’t think they’ll mind waiting a little longer,” I said dryly.
“Looks to have been there for some time. These things happen with these old estates,” he said thoughtfully. “Although there are stories about Thornham Park…”
I wasn’t sure I wanted him to finish that sentence.
“Stories?”
“Superstitious nonsense they whisper about in the village. Ghosts and tragic stories,” he said.
“Is that all?” I said, relieved. I didn’t believe in ghosts. Not the ones that came with haunted houses, anyway. Real ghosts only exist in our memories as punishment for those we’ve wronged. I had those ghosts once, and Belle’s love had driven them away. I wasn’t scared of this house or its past after surviving that. “If there’s anything we can do to speed up the investigation. My wife is due this week, and we’re already cutting things close with our crews.”
“Oh, I imagine there’s nothing to it. We’ll send them over to the London lab and I’ll be in touch. Hopefully, you won’t dig up any more secrets.” Longborn winked at me, and I forced a grim smile.
I had plenty of secrets of mine I’d rather stay buried. I couldn’t help wondering if someday, decades from now, maybe centuries, some poor bastard would dig mine up.
I waved the detectives off from the front entrance, glad to see them climbing back into their cars. It had been a long time since I’d been under the scrutiny of the authorities. It wasn’t as if I was now. In fact, they’d hardly seemed phased by the discovery. I guess you get used to disturbing finds when you live somewhere with this much past.
Benjamin waited until they pulled away to deliver more bad news. “We won’t be able to get back down there for a month. That crew has a new job next week and I can’t pull them.”
“What can we do?” I pinched the bridge of my nose, wondering if my headache was from all the racket constantly buzzing in the background or my general stress level. It wasn’t that we needed the wine cellar. I wished now we hadn't even bothered to start construction on it. It had all been a pipe dream of mine to have the entire house finished before the baby made her debut. The closer we got the more anxious I felt about the situation. Maybe Belle was right and we should just stay in London rather than a half-gutted house.
I snapped my fingers. “What about this weekend?”
“We could try,” Benjamin said thoughtfully, “but it would probably be an around the clock job, and I’m not certain the Mrs. will appreciate having us around all hours.”
“You have a point. That’s why we’re going back to London,” I decided, knowing I didn’t need to run it by Belle. She would be thrilled, the fucking wine cellar would get done, the bones would be removed, and life might finally stand a chance of being normal for a minute or two. “I’ll be reachable if there’s any more problems.”
“As long as we don’t find a whole graveyard down there, I think I can handle it,” Benjamin reassured me as I began texting the change of plans to anyone else it affected. “The men are getting ready to pack up for the night. I’ll let them know we’re going to be working overtime.”
He said the last word with a pointed significance that didn’t escape my notice. “Tell them that they’ll be well-compensated if they get it done.”