Where Old Ghosts Meet - Kate Evans [40]
Back in the little bedroom she sat on the edge of the bed and picked up the first book on the pile by the bed. It was a collection of poetry. She made herself comfortable against the soft pillows and began to read. Gradually she drifted into a kind of easy contentment and when she finally turned out the light, sleep came easily.
She was awaken by shuffling noises in the room. Instantly alert, she lay rigid in the bed, her face to the wall. For a moment she was confused, unable to recall where she was. Her heart thumped painfully, loud and insistent. The window … immediately she remembered where she was. She had left the window open. There was someone in the room. She could hear little crooning noises now, more shuffling. She raised her head slowly, terrified. Across the room she could see the outline of a white figure by the bookshelf. In an instant she realized it was Peg, her pale wisps of hair loose and hanging down the back of her nightdress. A thin hand, feverish and agitated, searched the shelves of books and finally eased one from its place. Nora watched the white figure, now quiet and content, turn the pages. After a little while Peg closed the book quietly and put it back in its place. Then slowly she turned and began to make her way across the room to where Nora lay petrified. Peg paused for a moment and then leaned forward, her eyes hovering just above Nora’s. The faint smell of stale whiskey was on her breath. Nora pulled back against the pillow but the eyes, glittering like two polished marbles, came closer, pinning Nora to the spot. Suddenly, as if sensing she was unwelcome, the white figure turned and left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.
Nora, rigid with fright, listened for the sound of Peg’s bedroom door closing. The house fell silent again.
Nora awoke feeling sluggish, her eyes still heavy with sleep. She rolled over, dragging the bedclothes over her head. Something was not right in this befuddled world of bedclothes. She sniffed, sniffed again, pushed back the bedclothes and slowly raised herself on one elbow. Only her eyes moved as she scanned the room: the stack of boxes, the books neatly arranged on the wooden dresser, the open window. She sat bolt upright as it began to dawn on her. Someone had been in her room during the night, over by the window. She remembered the little whimpering noises, the pale shadowy figure coming towards her, the staring eyes. A loud clatter coming from beyond the bedroom door made her jump. She could smell baking. Peg, of course, she had been in her room last night, rummaging about in the dark. In an instant Nora was out of bed, across the floor and standing in the kitchen.
Peg was by the stove, her back to Nora.
“You’re all right?”The words rushed out and immediately seemed misplaced.
“Oh, good morning, my dear,” Peg called over her shoulder. “Yes, of course I’m all right. Once the sun’s up, I’m up. Did you sleep well? It was hot last night, too hot for my liking.”
“I was fine. I left the window open all night.”
Peg turned and smiled at her young guest. “That’s fine. I never lock the house.” Her hand brushed against her apron, sending a poof of white particles into the air.
“Good.” Nora could think of nothing else to say. A night had passed and things had shifted, but she was relieved to see the same Peg looking back at her. She realized suddenly that she felt very protective of this woman.
“I’ll just have a quick wash and get dressed then and I’ll be with you in a minute.”
“No hurry, my dear. You just take your time.”
In the bathroom Nora splashed her face with cold water. When she raised her head and looked in the