Moonlight Magic

Chapter 5

It was eight in the evening when my parents finally got up. The last rays of the sun had nearly disappeared. I waited for them in the kitchen. Mum walked in first.
"Good...night, sweetie."
"Had a good sleep?"
"Yep. Have never rested so well in a long time," Dad responded as he entered. They were both in dressing gowns with their hair a little tousled. Mum had moved off to the stove.
"I'll make us some spaghetti," she announced. "Your favourite, Becky."
I knew she was trying to make up for leaving me home alone last night. Even if I was sixteen, she knew I hated the place being empty at night.
"So Mum, I was wondering," I started, "do you know the history of this place?"
"Why the sudden interest?" She had started to prepare the ingredients. My mouth watered at the thought of food.
"I'm living here so shouldn't I know something about the mansion? Plus there's this history assignment I've gotta do on buildings or landmarks that have historical value."
"What makes you think this place qualifies?" Dad chipped in.
"Well it's old and we were asked to do the research on some place that wasn't well known and I thought why not."
"I don't know much, but I think this place was built in the 1800s by a Lord Preston. It was said that he was a cruel man. He hated people nosing into his business and took his privacy seriously," Dad supplied.
"Is that why the mansion is so secluded?"
"I believe so." I contemplated this. The tome was very old. The mansion was very old. Could the book have belonged to this Lord Preston?
"However," Mum said as mouth watering aromas wafted from the pot on the stove, "I heard that Preston might've once been married. Rumor has it that his wife was a beauty. Funny thing was nobody ever saw or met her."
"That's weird."
Mum nodded. "Yes, but back then women weren't supposed to be out openly meeting people unless there was a chaperone. Though it was strange that she never left here even after she was married so no one had ever set eyes on her." But wouldn't people have seen her around before she was married?
"So it's just another myth?"
"I don't know. Can't deny that it certainly added an air of mystery regarding Lady Preston."
"Okay, just say this Lord Preston did marry, did he have kids?"
"I don't think so," Mum replied.
"That's strange. Weren't people back then supposed to have a lot of children or something. You know, to continue the blood line?"
"Not really. Just like in our time there were exceptions during the 19th century. Some people mightn't have wanted kids," Dad replied.
"And kids back then were just like the ones today. Frustrating," she joked. Ha ha, very funny Mum.
Ignoring her and turning to Dad I asked, "Since Preston was the one who built this place, he must've designed it right?"
"I suppose. This manor really is a masterpiece, wouldn't you agree?" he said as Mum set the food on the table. She started ladling spaghetti and sauce into bowls.
"Well he did a piss poor job of the east wing seeing as it's currently crumbling," I murmured.
"Becky, any structure that was built more than a century ago would be falling apart. It's a miracle this manor is still standing." Okay, this was getting nowhere. Time to get back on track.
"Dad, tell me about the society of the Victorian period," I said. "I heard there were witches back then." He paused with a forkful of pasta at his mouth.
"What made you think that?" Mum asked when Dad looked...wary.
"Just curious. We are in a town where everyone thinks there are monsters and magic."
"Not everyone. Some perhaps," she corrected. "Oh, that just reminded me of the Rutherfords." This seemed to relax Dad a little. Damn it! She's trying to change the subject.
"But what about the Salem witch trials? Were they..."
"Pumpkin, the witch trials were back in 1692," he cut in. Then in a deadly tone, "And you know Becky, curiosity killed the cat."
"Huh? What do you mea...?"
"I mean, stop asking questions you know are pointless," Dad repeated. "And at the worst, you could get judged."
"But..."
"I'm done." He stood and left the kitchen, his bowl still half full. I stared after him, a little surprised.
"Becky...Your father doesn't like talk of the supernatural. You're aware of that."
"But if he..." I tried.
"Don't. Just don't. Leave it." The look she gave me said that's the end of it. With that she cleared both Dad's and her bowls and popped them in the sink.
As I watched her leave I had a feeling my parents reactions weren't because of their disbelief in anything not scientific. It was more than that. Whatever it was, I was going to find out even if my instincts told me to leave it.