The Guest House Hauntings Boxset Hazel Holmes (easy novels to read TXT) 📖

smacked at the hands grabbing at her shoulders and then snatched the iron as she quickly stood. It was hard to make him out in the darkness, but he was a man. He wore a white T-shirt, flannel pajama pants, and a pair of slippers. She looked him up and down, still gripping the iron with both hands. “Who the hell are you? Are you with her?” But when Sarah turned, she found the woman gone.

“I’m not with anyone.” He kept his hands raised in a passive gesture. “My name’s Kegan Bell. I’m Iris’s grandson.”

Sarah regarded the young man. He was tall, with broad shoulders, and handsome.

“I got in late tonight,” Kegan said. “I didn’t want to wake her, so I thought I’d surprise her in the morning.” He offered a hand to shake. “Are you the new help?”

“I’m the new employee.”

“Right. Sorry.” Kegan smirked, one of those half smiles that were common practice for pretty boys who’d never had trouble getting girls.

Sarah finally lowered the iron and then turned back to where she’d seen the woman. “You didn’t hear anyone?” She faced Kegan again. “Talking to me just now?”

“The only person I heard was you,” Kegan answered. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

Sarah walked past him. “I’m fine.” She returned to her room and shut and then locked the door.

She laid the fire poker back on the hearth before getting back in bed. And the longer she lay there, the more she questioned what she had seen. She lifted her head and looked at the door one more time before flinging the sheets off. She retrieved the fire poker from the hearth, set it next to her bedside, and climbed back under the covers.

60

After the disruption in the night, Sarah struggled to fall back asleep and ended up watching the sun come up. She stayed in bed until about seven thirty and then decided to get ready.

Still groggy, she flung the covers off, shivering as she placed her bare feet on the wood. She furiously rubbed her arms and walked to the closet, remembering that Iris had mentioned wearing a uniform. But when Sarah opened the closet doors, she frowned. “What the hell?”

Several articles of clothing hung from the racks, each varying in size, but all of them in the same style. The uniform was a simple black gown complete with a starched white apron with frilly lace around the edges and a mob cap to wear on her head. If it had been nineteen twenty-six, she’d have fit right in.

Sarah sighed, shutting her eyes. “Five hundred dollars a week.” She repeated it like a mantra and then undressed and picked the smallest size she could find. Then she headed downstairs.

“Well, there you are!” Iris said, tapping her foot as Sarah came down the hall. “I was beginning to think you’d run off.” The old woman was still immaculately dressed, her make-up layered on thick, and clutched the wooden sphere at the end of her necklace with fingers that were crooked and swollen from arthritis.

“It’s seven fifty-five.” Sarah fidgeted with the uniform. It was stiff and constricting. “I’m early.”

“Well, I’ve already been up for three hours,” Iris snarled and then gave Sarah a once-over. “Probably a bit more modest than what you’re used to.” She smirked. “Of course, if I still had your figure, I’d flaunt it too.” She sighed. “Well, c’mon. We’re burning daylight.”

Sarah followed Iris to the third floor, where they stopped at a small door, Iris unlocking it with that same silver key.

The room was small but crammed with furniture covered with sheets stained with dust. The curtains were drawn over the windows, extinguishing the morning light and keeping the room in darkness. Two of the walls contained bookshelves that stretched the length of the wall from floor to ceiling, where a smaller version of the foyer chandelier hung, cobwebs strung between the crystals.

“I expect you to be efficient,” Iris said, staying in the doorway. “Like I mentioned yesterday, anything beyond repair or a good cleaning just set out in the hallway and Dennis will pick it up in the evening. Cleaning supplies are in the kitchen in the west wing on the first floor. Pick what you want from the fridge during your lunch break, but—Wake up!”

Sarah snapped her head forward, jumping a little as she swayed on her legs.

Iris narrowed her eyes, turning her nose up at Sarah. “Do you think you can handle this, or do I need to end our agreement?”

“No,” Sarah said. “I just didn’t get much sleep last night. One of the night crew woke me up.”

Iris arched her eyebrow, pausing before taking a step back. “Well, be that as it may, I still expect you to perform your duties efficiently. Now, get to work.” She quickly clapped her hands together twice and then left.

Sarah waited for Iris to leave before she headed back down to the kitchen, which was massive. After piling what she thought she’d need into a bucket, Sarah lugged the supplies up the stairs and then got to work.

Sarah opened the curtains, letting light spill into the room, and then pulled the covers off the furniture. Dust flew about, swirling and dancing in the rays of sunlight.

Never having done any type of maid work before, Sarah started with the simple things like the windows, then dusting, and dusting some more, and then dusting up the dust that she’d just dusted.

All the while, Sarah examined the room for anything valuable. She checked under cushions and in old clothes pockets for cash, and drawers for jewelry, but found nothing but lint.

Sarah picked at her uniform, which became even more constricting and uncomfortable as time passed. She didn’t understand how women could have worn this kind of stuff. Just layer after layer of cloth, corsets squeezing them until they couldn’t breathe anymore… she couldn’t have imagined living back then.

It had taken her until lunch to rid the room of the thick layer of grime, and that was