~Mrs. Marianne had been cooking for the family for years, since her mother, who did the cooking before her, passed. The big dinners had passed. Sometimes the family would return, and she would be tasked to create a spread like old times. Lately, though, she has been cooking for three; Mr. Charles, his man, and herself.
She kept the kitchen clean and ready to cook at a moment’s notice. But the big pots remained covered, the stove rarely lit for more than one or two burners. The Mr. liked soup more often these days. Which was good, in a way, with most of the staff gone, she had to keep up with the cleaning of the rest of the house.
Marianne replaced the bottle of laudanum and sighed as she reached for the knife…
June shook herself, still smelling the chicken soup that was in the pot… But it was empty. “Maybe I will come back to look at this one,” she said, as she heard the fast movements of footsteps coming down the stairs. She glanced out towards the front hall to see the couple she saw earlier, hurrying down the stairs and outside. The woman was pale as a ghost, and the man was clutching a small mirror under his arm.
“Thank you for coming! I hope you enjoy the rest of your day!” Mr. Devlin was calmly walking down the stairs. He acted like there was nothing wrong, and the couple had only left after a successful bargain was made. Devlin was an elderly man of timeless age. June guessed that time to be in the early to mid-seventies. Smooth and dark skin, with hardly a tremor of age to be seen. Neatly cut and trimmed white hair and beard, his eyes were a dark brown that felt like they could pierce her soul. If a grandfatherly figure could also look like a predator, it was standing at the front door.
He noticed June peeking out from the kitchen doorway, “Hi there! You must be June! I hope you are finding some good bargains. We were asked to mark this for a fast sale, so it’s like stealing at these prices!”
“Uh, hi,” June said, dumbly. The looks on the faces of the couple did not match the attitude of the man facing her currently. “Yeah, uh, the prices seem really low indeed.”
“Well,” he smiled, “we want to make every purchase the most profitable for everyone. Sometimes, that means selling low.” He looked at the pot in her hands, “Would you like me to put that aside for you while you look around upstairs?”
“I guess?” June had not even realized that she had picked up the pot again in the commotion. “Yes, that will be fine,” she said a little more confidently. She needed something for the soup she was making tonight. She handed the elder Devlin the pot and ascended the stairs to the second floor.
There were several bedrooms on the second floor, but only one had been roped off. June was wondering, if this is what I feel from the stuff for sale, I wonder what the stuff is like that isn’t for sale? She went to the open bedroom first. There was a cradle to the side of the room, and a regular sized bed along the wall. The decorations were for a child. But none of it looked like it was new. She didn’t even think that they were made in the last century.
She didn’t know much about children, but there was nothing for a child older than 11, and most were for someone much younger. She had no reason to buy any toys, but the cradle was also roped off. The room felt stuffy, like it was full of air that never moved. June looked around, she was alone, and the sounds of the two salespeople were drifting up from the entry. She reached out to touch the cradle…
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