The House

Chapter 27 - Day 3: Family Secrets

"Do you remember where the door was?" David asks, and I turn to inspect the section of shelves where I'd found it earlier. Taking a deep breath, I step closer and feel along the seam for the trigger, praying for it to be there... or not be there... whichever option will prove my sanity.

The relief I felt at seeing the stairs leading down into the cellar pales in comparison to what I'm feeling now as I close my fingers around the recessed lever and unlock the secret door with much more ease than I had earlier when it was still extremely stiff due to disuse.

We step back when the section of shelves slowly moves towards us, opening the tunnel. I glance at David, smiling, when I see the look of wonder and astonishment on his face. This is clearly new to him, and I'm not the only one seeing it.

I once again hold on to his arm as we navigate the steps and then the winding tunnel down to the cave, David using his phone to give us at least some light in the cloying darkness.

The wind meets us before the sound of the heavy rain reaches us when we finally enter the cave hidden at the back of the small, private cove. If seeing the storm from the foyer had been spectacular, there are no more intense words left to describe seeing it from the mouth of the cave.

The water is an angry, boiling mass of waves spilling through the rocky arms up to only a couple of steps from the entrance to the cave. The idea of ending up in that terrifying sea during my sleepwalking sessions is making me feel quite ill.

"It's true!" David breathes, and at first, I think he means that despite the very clear message from the clock earlier, I might not be cuckoo after all, but then he turns to me, looking excited. "I heard stories from my Grandfather about our ancestor who built this house and how he was a bit of a shady character. A smuggler, to be precise, with ties to pirates.

"Later generations have, from time to time, used the house to smuggle refugees during the many wars that tortured this area. It seems that his descendants were a lot nobler than he was," he chuckles and then his eyes grow sombre, running over the violent waves mercilessly smashing themselves against the boulders. 

"Except for my great grandparents. There are rumours that my grandfather's father was a criminal, running from justice... I'm not entirely sure what it was that he'd done, but he was a sailor, and my grandfather's mother abandoned her newborn baby to run away with him. Their ship was stranded during a storm somewhere out here, probably, because pieces of the wreckage and the bodies of some of the crew washed up here. You can reach the shore of this cove from over there," he points off towards the left, where the land runs downhill, tumbling into the sea. 

"There are some stone steps leading down to the beach. They're heavily overgrown at the moment, but I remember coming down to the beach with my grandfather when I was a kid. Never saw this cave, though; it's not visible from down there. I don't think he knows that it's here."

He is right; when I was in that dream, rescuing the stranger who wasn't there, I didn't see the cave until he walked into it. The opening isn't wide, and it is dark. The view from here inside the cave is much less obstructed than the view from outside it.

"He has always resented his mother for leaving him because her parents were overly strict. I don't think he had a happy childhood. Perhaps, in a warped way, they blamed him for the loss of their daughter. She did run off with his father, after all, and I don't think they were even married. That kind of thing was a big deal back then."

"W-were there m-many sh-sh-shipwrecks here?" I stutter, shaking with cold, my teeth are starting to chatter, and my muscles are spasming. David puts an arm around my shoulders, pulling me against him when he realises that I am freezing out here. It's interesting how comfortable we are with each other and how natural it feels for us to hold one another even though we only met a few hours ago.

I am not normally a very touchy-feely kind of girl, but I'm starting to become one... in overdrive. I am aware, though, that David is the only person I have any desire to be close to like this.

"Let's go back and get you warmed up," he smiles, turning me away from the emotional scene outside, back towards the tunnel. "Yes, those rocks that stick out forming the cove stretch into the ocean quite far," he tells me as we carefully retrace our steps. "Only skippers who really know this part of the ocean well dare to come here, and only in very clear weather. When I was doing research on the house, I came across many stories of ships blown onto the jagged, hidden rocks, especially during storms."

I shiver, shamelessly nestling into his side. Hey! I can do with all the heat I can get right now; besides, David smells really good... smoke and all.

We close the cellar door behind us when we finally enter the kitchen, and while I sit, leaning on the serving island, David makes coffee. The kitchen is warm. The oven isn't on, there's no sun spilling through the windows, and yet, I'm feeling more and more cosy sitting here, watching him going through the steps of making extremely good coffee, as I find out when he places a steaming mug within my reach and I grab it, taking a sip.

So, I found a huge dining room that hadn't been there before... or it was there all the time, and I just didn't see that door and therefore never entered it. So, a small room that filled me with dread and despair has suddenly vanished, replaced by a closet.

Is that really so bad?

Gazing at David sitting next to me, quietly sipping his coffee and eating biscuits, thinking his own thoughts, listening to the heart of the house ticking away, I feel my eyelids drooping sleepily, lulled into a sense of well-being I really shouldn't be experiencing.

I am, after all, in a house that has seen smugglers, refugees and criminals passing through its hallways. A house where broken clocks kick up a storm of sound at random intervals, a place where time doesn't matter and every minute hand follow its own path. An old mansion filled with sounds and secrets. Really nothing to inspire peace of mind, and yet...

I'm feeling really sleepy now, physically and emotionally exhausted, but I never want to sleep again because I'm afraid that if I do, David will be gone when I open my eyes again.

I really don't want him to be a mop...

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