Midnight Whispers (Cutler 4) - Page 103

"Yes, art nouveau," he said.

"I want you two to meet Morton Findly Atwood. What do you want them to call you around here, Morty? Mr. Atwood? Or just sir?"

"Mr. Atwood would be fine. Sir's a bit too much," he said, smiling. He flicked his cigarette ash on the floor.

"Mr. Atwood's family is a highly respected one. They're what we call old money . . . dwindling, but old," Fern said and laughed. Morton Atwood laughed too. What kind of respect did he have for his own family, I wondered, if he could let Aunt Fern make fun of them like this?

"Anyway, now we're here," she said, gazing around again, "we've decided to take a minivacation on our way to our vacation, right Morty?"

"If you'd like. One thing I have plenty of," he said, "is time."

"What do you mean, Aunt Fern?" I asked. Despair heavied my legs, making them feel nailed to the floor and my heart started to pound in anticipation of her reply.

"What do you mean, Aunt Fern?" she mimicked. "What do you think it means? We're hanging out a while. I'm sure there's plenty of room. Auntie Charlotte was just about to show us the rooms so we could pick out one that suits us, weren't you, Auntie Charlotte?"

"Oh sure, sure," Charlotte said, not really understanding what was happening. Luther glared furiously.

"After all, we're all family," Aunt Fern said. "All except Luther, that is," she added, turning to him. Luther reddened with subdued anger. "Which room have you two taken?" she asked.

"We have two rooms," I said quickly. "One for Jefferson and Gavin and one for me. Next to each other," I added.

"How convenient," she said. "Morton, shall we inspect the facilities?"

"Whatever you say, my dear," he replied, standing. He was a little over six feet tall with narrow shoulders and a very narrow waist for a man.

"Morty happens to be an excellent tennis player," Aunt Fern said. "He might go pro. There aren't any tennis courts on the grounds, are there, Luther?"

Luther's reply resembled one of his grunts more than a no.

"I didn't think there was, but we'll make due. I'm sure there's plenty to occupy us around here. Look at how occupied the princess has been," she said nodding toward me. "Auntie Charlotte, can you re-show us around now?" she said. Charlotte stood up.

"Oh sure."

"Then do it," Aunt Fern said sharply. Charlotte's eyes flashed toward me as though she were pleading for help. I felt sorry for her, but I didn't know what to do. I couldn't toss them out, although I wouldn't have hesitated to do so if I could.

"And Luther," Aunt Fern said, turning to him, "would you get our suitcases out of the trunk and bring them upstairs."

Luther stared at her for a moment and then turned and left to do her bidding. Aunt Fern laughed.

"I told you this would be interesting and fun, Morty. All my relatives are quite amusing." She scooped her arm under his and they walked after Charlotte.

"Oh," she said, turning back to Gavin and me. "Don't let us interrupt you. Go right on and do what you usually do." She threw her head back and laughed.

Gavin turned to me. He didn't have to say it. We both knew: as quickly as we had found this wonderful and magical world, it was gone.

14

THE BUBBLE BURSTS

OUT OF SPITE, AUNT FERN DECIDED THAT THE ONLY bedroom suite good enough for her and Morton was Charlotte's parents' suite. I thought Aunt Fern was malicious and gleeful about it because she didn't change her mind when she saw how much her decision had disturbed poor Charlotte. The idea of someone else sleeping in that bedroom obviously terrified Charlotte. It was as if her father could still punish her for permitting it. Not that she had much choice. Aunt Fern w

as adamant, even though the room needed a thorough cleaning.

"No one's slept in here for years and years," Charlotte emphasized. "It ain't been used since . . . since my daddy passed away."

"Well, then it's time it was," Aunt Fern replied undaunted. She found the light switch and turned on the overhead fixture, which revealed even more dust, grime, and cobwebs. "Princess," Aunt Fern said, turning to me, her hands on her hips, "go get some clean rags, a pail of hot soapy water, and wash down all the windows and clean all the furniture."

"That's a lot of work to start doing this late, Aunt Fern," I said. "Why don't you just choose a room that's not so dirty tonight."

Tags: V.C. Andrews Cutler Horror
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