Madam Rosalind spent much time over the phone talking to Eleanor, Martinez’s new wife. She wasn’t very optimistic about having a daughter in-law at first, but Eleanor proved to be everything Madam Rosalind cherished in herself: Determined, independent, confident. The qualities won her over, she was sure Martinez made a good choice.
After a brief discussion about the weather difference between the autumn in Portugal and Nigeria (in which Eleanor hinted about trying to convince Martinez to visit the country next summer), Eleanor handed the phone over to Martinez.
Matinez was a bore when it comes to conversation, but with the few words they exchanged, Madam Rosalind was certain that the banker was doing fine and that his father’s estate was in good and capable hands.
She was down in the study working on compiling the musical pieces for Halloween that night. Piles of photocopied sheets was dwarfed by a large shelf housing reference materials. One of her favorite place was the master personal library adjoining a well-lit study.
She stretched after moving the last pile. There were enough copies for the about a hundred instrumentalists. It was a work Madam Rosalind was willing to undertake, if everything went as planned, the student musical group would begin rehearsals late September.
It was 7:30 pm when she switched the desktop computer off. Darkness descended as she flipped the switch, she slammed the door behind her. She switched the lights in the library off too and was about getting out when she heard the scrapping sound from the window (which she had forgotten to close). She blinked. There was silence. She walked towards the window and peered through from where she stood, she could see the Grotto by the chapel. She listened again for sound but nothing came.
Maybe someone moved an armoire across the room above, she thought. No big deal. But she couldn’t help that feeling of déjà vu.
She slid the glass halfway when she heard another rumbling, dry scraping of something over concrete. She whirled round and could swear from the corner of her eyes that she saw something moved far away in the grotto. But that was all. No other sign of movement.
After closing the door behind, she asked one of the security men to check the grotto for some student eager to start mischief again. Twenty minutes later, the young man return and told her there was no one there.
The student must have run away then.
But the sound? The movement.
She dismissed it all as she sipped tea that night. The session was just beginning, there will be pretty much to get her riled up. Why fuss over nothing?
“why the fuss over nothing?” she asked Oscar who as usual was already asleep, curled into a black fur ball on the soft foam of its kitty basket.
***
Mrs Rosalind woke up, her eyes wide, she didn’t know whether she had screamed awake, like she did in her dream. She didn’t care anyway. She recalled seeing those eyes, gleaming eyes, but the thought was driven out of her mind by something dark that moved toward the window. A scream froze between her lips.
She blinked. There was nothing there. Just clean moonlit space.
It was all quiet. She tried to hold her breath as if waiting for something to burst from thin air.
Nothing happened.
She sighed relieved, then reprimanded herself: a shadow, towards the moonlight streaming from the window pane? Seriously, Ros? She sighed. She couldn’t close her eyes just then. It was happening all over again. The episodes of nightmare, about Louis Junior, dangling, staring accusing with gleaming eyes. It was happening all over again.
YOU ARE READING
SANTA MARIA HIGH (COMPLETED)
Paranormal...are you afraid of the dark? When Hope Mark lost her foster mother to cancer and had to move to a new school, she never thought much of SANTA MARIA HIGH. Other than the fact that the fact that the school was in the most beautiful Manor, with tall...
