Abby, Linda, and Uncle Jack disembarked the plane. Uncle Jack handed the documentation folder with all of their passports to the customs officer. The chubby man in a gray uniform stamped a form and handed it back to Uncle Jack. After answering a few questions from the officer the trio proceeded to the baggage claim area. Travelers bumped into Abby with their suitcases and elbows as she waited for the bags on the luggage carousel. Uncle Jack grabbed their luggage as the bags snaked around to them. Finally, Uncle Jack handed another form to the checkpoint officer and after clearing customs they walked into the main airport.
Abby was thankful Uncle Jack was taller than most people; it made him easier to keep track of in the crowd.
“I’ve never seen so many people,” Abby said as she watched the mass of people walk in all directions.
“It won’t make finding Henrietta easy,” Uncle Jack said as he looked down at the girls, making sure they were still with him.
“Let’s go over there and sit down,” he said, pointing to a secluded area. The girls grabbed their bags and followed behind him. Abby was glad to escape the hordes of people. After a slight breather, Uncle Jack looked over the crowd. “I’ve never met Henrietta Martin in person. I don’t know if I’ll recognize her by the description she sent me.”
They sat on the hard metal chairs in various states of boredom. After the first few minutes, Linda pulled a guidebook from her purse and Uncle Jack read a magazine. Abby tried to ignore her hunger pangs as she watched the harried travelers. Thirty minutes went by and Uncle Jack looked at his watch. “She must have forgotten about picking us up. I’m going to find a public phone. You girls stay here.” He was walking away when a very thin man with shaggy red hair, a pale face, and a beak nose moved toward him. Both girls darted over to listen to what he had to say.
“Are you Jack Berit?” the man asked quietly.
“Yes, I am,” said Uncle Jack, looking surprised.
He’s the man I saw in one of my premonitions, Abby thought.
“My name is Daniel.” The man extended his pale, white hand to Jack. Abby stared at his long, thin fingers. “I’m the manager of the Titanic Museum. Mrs. Martin asked me to meet you. She has had a family emergency,” he explained as the two men shook hands. “I’m in charge of everything including the finances.” He paused for a moment, as though he wanted Uncle Jack to digest what he was saying. “As I’ve explained to Mrs. Martin, now is not a good time to be remodeling. There is really no need for you to be here,” he went on bluntly as he stared down at Abby and Linda.
What the heck is that all about? Why is he being so rude to Uncle Jack? Abby wondered.
Uncle Jack began to introduce Linda and Abby, but Daniel rudely turned and walked away. Linda popped a large bubble and rolled her eyes at Abby. Abby grabbed her suitcase and followed behind the two men.
I don’t like this guy. “I’m so hungry I could eat a horse,” Abby practically growled into Linda’s ear.
Daniel led the group to the airport parking lot, his head held high, marching along like a sergeant major. When he stopped dead, Abby nearly ran into him. He pointed to a small sky-blue car. Its doors were dented around the door handles and along the bottom edges. And the rear window had a long, jagged crack from one side of the car to the other.
“Wow, it’s a Morris Minor!” Uncle Jack exclaimed.
“Yes it is,” Daniel said dryly.
“What year is it?” Uncle Jack asked. Abby could see the passion in Uncle Jack’s blue eyes.
“It’s a 1959. I’m afraid there’s not much room for your luggage.”
“We can make it work,” Uncle Jack said as he opened the car door on the passenger side and shoved the luggage into a small space behind the back seat. He pulled the front seatback forward and the girls climbed in the back.
Abby twitched her nose. The car reeked of cigarette smoke and something musty. The rubber floor mats were covered with gravel and cigarette butts. It smells like dirty socks in here, she thought.
After everyone was seated, Daniel said, “It’s chilly today, and my car does not have a heater.” He spoke so quietly that Abby could hardly hear him.
“That’s all right; I’m a little warm with my denim jacket on,” Abby fibbed as she felt along the window and pushed against it. I need some air. How does this window open?
Uncle Jack glanced over his shoulder and saw her searching desperately for the window handle. “Ah, Abby, there is no handle. You have to slide the window if you want to open it,” he explained.
“Thanks!” She slid the window open as quickly as she could, drawing a long deep breath and filling her lungs with clean air.
The car entered a small village. “What river is that?” Linda asked. Boats bobbed in the water, some were fishing boats. A few smaller boats rocked beside high wooden posts.
“That’s the River Hamble,” Daniel said.
The car sputtered as it drove through the village.
“It feels odd driving down the opposite side of the road,” Linda said as she watched a car go by.
Uncle Jack agreed. “It will take some getting used to.” He pointed to a street sign. “Thornton Avenue, we’re getting close girls; the house is on this road.” The street was dotted with small cottages that reminded Abby of pictures in fairytale books.
Daniel drove the car inside a pair of large iron gates and down a long cobblestone driveway. Light flowed out of the windows of a large mock-Tudor mansion, lighting up the evening. Landscape lighting also lit up the beautifully maintained grounds. Abby saw that the building had the same red tiled roof she had seen in her premonition.
“Wow, this place is enormous! How old is it?” Linda asked. She blew a large bubble and it popped loudly.
Daniel cringed and looked over his shoulder at her. “The precise age of the mansion is not known, but it is said to have been built around 1810.”
Abby was impressed. She stared around at the property, thinking that the mansion was ten times the size of her own small but comfortable house in Spring Valley.
Linda blew an exceptionally big bubble. It popped, and everyone jumped. Daniel gave Linda another disapproving look over his shoulder. “Sorry!” she said as she blushed and looked out the window. “What’s that odd-shaped section of the mansion?”
Daniel turned his long thin neck. “That’s the dovecote. It was used for housing domestic pigeons.”
Daniel parked the car in front of the entrance porch. Abby, Linda, and Uncle Jack retrieved their bags. Daniel made no effort to help.
He led the visitors onto the porch. They followed him inside a wooden door shaped like an arch and adorned with leaded glass windows. Terracotta tile covered the floors in the entrance hall. Half a dozen elegantly carved wooden doors led to more rooms. A grand staircase led upstairs.
Daniel’s body swayed like a hawk on a nest, as he pointed to one of the doors. “This leads to the kitchen,” he said.
Abby strained to hear his low voice. She watched his curved back as he swayed from side to side. He reminds me of a vulture looking down at his prey, she thought.
Daniel pointed to an open archway, and said, “You can set your bags down in the cloakroom. Martha will show you to your rooms.”
Abby grabbed her bag, which got heavier every time she lifted it. Her feet ached as she walked into the cloakroom. They set their bags down and followed Daniel into the kitchen. Its white walls were lined with dark wooden cupboards and cabinets. It was the biggest kitchen Abby had ever seen.
“You’ll be eating breakfast in here,” Daniel said. A long oak table sat in front of glass doors with a view of the rear garden patio.
Daniel moved toward another door. “This is the laundry room; it houses the washer and is attached to the storage room. Henrietta has been kind enough to allow me to store my things there. I live in a small flat nearby and have no room for all my belongings.” Daniel’s face darkened and his voice got louder. “Martha is in charge of the laundry, so there is no need for you to go in there.”
Abby took that as a warning. What was that all about? She wondered.
They followed Daniel through the kitchen, under another archway, and into another large room. A fire crackled in an elaborate fireplace with marble surround. Abby felt the warmth of the cozy fire, but the dim light in the room gave the couches and chairs a ghostly appearance.
Daniel kept moving. “The dining room is in here. Martha, the housekeeper, likes to serve dinner at six o’clock sharp,” he said sternly, his eyes shifting from Linda to Abby.
Suddenly a plump, jolly woman, not much taller than Abby, burst into the room. Her gray hair was pulled back in a bun, but strands had worked loose and hung down around her flushed face.
“For goodness sakes, I didn’t hear you drive up. I am so sorry I wasn’t here to greet you. The missus and her family should be back soon…I hope. I’m Martha,” she stood with her arms folded in front of her blue and white gingham apron looking around at them. “Things have been so hectic here the past few weeks…Oh well.” She waved her hand as though to clear her thoughts. “I’m sure you’re all tired and hungry from your long trip. Let me show you to your rooms and then I’ll bring you a snack.” Still speaking, she began walking away.
Linda leaned over and whispered into Abby’s ear, “I like the way she talks,” then
rubbed her hands together. “I’m starved!”
Uncle Jack laughed. “I guess we all are!” he said.
The travelers followed the housekeeper up the ornate staircase and into a long hallway. The dark wood trim gleamed. It smells like lemon, Abby thought.
Martha wiped her sweaty forehead with an embroidered handkerchief. “This is the master bedroom suite on the left. Your rooms are down the hall. The house was remodeled recently, and each of your rooms has a bathroom. My room is at the end of the hall on the right in case you need anything.”
“Is there an end to this hall? My legs are killing me and I just swallowed my gum,” Linda whispered to Abby.
Martha opened a stately wooden door. “This is your room, Mr. Berit.”
“Please call me Jack,” he said as he stepped inside the room.
Abby peeked inside. Long brown tapestry curtains adorned the windows. A thick quilt on the bed harmonized with the curtains. Before closing his door, Uncle Jack turned to the girls. “Are you girls going to be all right?” he asked.
“They’ll be just fine; their room is right next to yours. I’ll see that they get everything they need,” Martha assured him. She led Abby and Linda to their room and then excused herself to go prepare a snack.
Abby jumped onto the bed near the window. “Finally!” she exclaimed. “We’re here!”
Linda sat on the bed near the door. “I didn’t think we’d ever get to our room.”
“This house is so big I won’t remember where anything is in the morning.” Abby rested her head on the pillow. She noticed that Linda’s bed was covered with the same patch worked quilt. Both beds faced a pair of dark wooden doors with leaded glass windows looking out into the gardens.
“I’m going to take a quick shower and get ready for bed,” Linda said as she walked into the bathroom. “Wow! There is a corner shower unit, bathtub, and a fancy pedestal sink.”
“That sounds nice,” Abby said, yawning.
“That’s not all, Abby. There’s also a fancy make-up table with different kinds of shampoos. Wait till you see the cute little bars of soap. There are small red roses in them.”
Abby was dozing off when she heard a knock at the door.
Martha walked in with a tray. “I brought you girls up a glass of milk, tuna and mayonnaise sandwiches, and some crisps. I’ll be making a big breakfast for everyone in the morning,” she said cheerfully, setting the tray on the nightstand between the beds.
“Thanks! Goodnight, Martha,” Abby said.
The girls zipped through their showers and ate the sandwiches. They had been cut into small triangles, with no crust.
Lying in bed with her hands above her head, Abby whispered. “What do you think is going on with the curator? It’s odd that she wasn’t here to meet us.”
“Yeah, I noticed Martha seemed a little nervous about something,” Linda agreed. “And that Daniel gives me the creeps!”
Abby yawned. “Well, we’ll probably find out tomorrow.”