Souvent me Souviens (Work in Progress)

Chapter 3

      "Charles is my father, you know," said Leslie, "I suppose that makes me Leslie Lynn and not Leslie Piper at all - and Tom really is my uncle." He frowned. "We've got to get that picture back."

     "But how!" Polly exclaimed. "The only reason I managed to get it last time was because the Hunsdon folk were away and the House let me enter. I doubt Laurel will be so careless again."

     "The House let you enter?" Granny asked wonderingly.

     "Well yes, sort of," Polly confessed. "I trespassed and got in through a window." She was bashful describing the details of her crime. "It was easy to open because it wasn't even locked. Neither was the shutter behind it."

     "That is very unusual," Ann said. "No one enters the fold so freely unless they belong there."

     "I stole from Hunsdon though, and clearly Morton thought it was a punishable offense," Polly said. And how would that account for the time I gate-crashed the funeral a year prior to the break-in? Polly thought.

     "Have you considered," Ann asked, "that maybe you weren't trespassing or stealing at all? Besides, Morton only seemed to think the offense was punishable, and Laurel said she would consider it. Nothing more."

     "You could probably march up to Hunsdon House this instant and take the picture back if you wanted," Ed suggested.

     Polly did not think she wanted to do that. Sebastian said he would be in Middleton until Monday, and it was only Sunday now. She didn't want to see him ever again after yesterday - still, there was the matter of their engagement. Breaking it off with Seb was a very good reason indeed for marching up to Hunsdon House that instant.

     "You're not to go to That House on your own," Granny snapped. "Who knows what tricks She'll play on you now you've made Her this angry. They've done enough to you from That House already."

     "I'll go with you Polly," Ann offered.

     "As will I," Ed added, "if you like."

     "And I," Sam said.

     Polly felt herself grinning.

     "Be back in time for tea, young lady," Granny said, a hopeful glint in her eyes.

     "I will," Polly replied. She stepped out into the frigid November air, both parts nervous of what had to be done and emboldened by her company.

     The neighborhood was desolate. At the end of the road stood Hunsdon House, looking sad, majestic, and alive. The front gate was wide open, like a pair of waiting arms. Welcome back, Polly, the house seemed to say. It was a haunting sight.

     Shuddering, Polly gave her orders. "Since you're Family, you should enter first," she told Ann. "When you know everyone will be occupied, go back and open the front door for us. Ed, Sam, you two can mill about and distract anyone who might follow me," Polly commanded.

     "Aye, Captain," Ed saluted. He was obviously anxious. All of them were. Ann took in a deep breath. Sam made an encouraging comment, then Ann approached the front door, rang the doorbell, and was admitted inside. Someone else from inside the House shut the door behind her.

     It felt very strange to Polly, to think that Ann may have attended the funeral she gate-crashed when she was ten years old. Polly, Ed, and Sam waited out of sight near the gateposts for a while, before Ann returned to open the door. She did not wait to see them through into the house, and could be seen hurrying off down the hall to join the rest of the family.

     They entered as inconspicuously as possible. Polly was struck by the familiar scent of polish. The tink! tink! of knives and forks rang out from the dining room like faint bells through the empty hall. Ed and Sam shuffled off to the room where the Will was read. Polly tiptoed past the Ali Baba vases and up the staircase she knew led to Laurel's room, and just as before, the door was slightly ajar. She entered, her heart crashing like a gong in her chest and blood humming behind her ears. The four-poster bed was neatly made, and every little thing in the room placed just-so. It looked like the sort of room a bespelled, sleeping princess might be found. To think a real person could live in it was remarkable. On the far wall were the pictures in their golden oval frames. Laurel had not yet taken the precaution of hiding the photograph of Thomas Lynn away. Polly spotted it immediately and removed it from the wall.

     The door clicked shut behind her. Polly whipped around and there was Sebastian Leroy standing behind her, hand slinking away from the doorknob.

     "You came back for him," he sneered, "again."

     Polly could not speak. She held the photograph closer.

      "I met some of Tom's quartet on the way in. They were keen to hold me up. What I want to know is why Tom isn't here for himself?"

     "He gave this to me, and I intend to give it back."

     "It was never Tom's to give."

     "It was never Laurel's to take. She's got everyone fooled, but Ann figured it out and now I'm here to take it back."

     "You didn't answer my question. Why isn't Tom here for himself?"

     Polly could only stand there. Seb moved closer.

     "Why does it have to be you, Polly, why is it always you?" Seb grabbed her arm.

     "Don't touch me!" Polly thrashed. Seb was taken aback.

     "I never want to see you again!" Polly nearly sprinted out of the room. Seb made no effort to chase her. He was in that room to do what Thomas should have been doing for himself that day.

☆

     Polly, Ed and Sam did not stop running until they reached Granny's house.

     "I suppose Ann will have to vouch for us once again," said Ed. "Poor woman, stuck making small talk with those fiends." They all glanced back at Hunsdon House somberly.

     "You're welcome to go back for her," Polly said.

     "Oh no! Our Ann will escape soon enough on her own, and then we'll be done with Hunsdon for good."

     Polly frowned as she unlatched the front gate. For Ed and Sam that might be possible, but for the rest of them . . .

     Upon entering the house, Polly could hear Granny and Leslie deep in conversation. She went and stood beside the sofa, and as soon as Leslie saw Polly standing there, he shot up and looked at her in a very different light than when they came across each other yesterday.

     "Polly, I-" Leslie's hands shook around his cup of tea, "I'm so sorry I forgot about - well, everything."

     "It's not your fault. I should be apologizing to you, really."

     Leslie sat back down, staring into the cup. He lifted his head to glance at Polly as she left to see Tom in the back garden.

     She found Thomas sitting with a vague mask hanging over his face. He was petting Mintchoc absentmindedly. Polly thought it was kind of Mintchoc to look after him. Mintchoc was a most understanding cat.

     "It's time you got your life back, Thomas Lynn."