Free The Green Remains by Marni Graff

my kitchen tomorrow night.”
      He finally found his tongue. “Relax, it’s on my list for tonight,” he told her, scooping up the bucket.
      “I know what’s on your list on a Friday night, and a good washing won’t be found at the pub. I mean what I’m saying, you minger.” With that firm pronouncement, Agnes tied a red kerchief around her grey curls. She pulled on a bulky cardigan and headed out the kitchen door. “Mind you lock the door behind you.”
      “Bloody bitch,” he muttered when he was certain Agnes was out of earshot. Dullard he might be, but he was lucky to have this scullery job and didn’t intend to lose it. He emptied the bucket into the outside compost pile, then rinsed it with the garden hose and left it drying on the end of the counter.
      Daniel stood at the head of the hall while counting slowly to a hundred on his fingers. Tiptoeing through the door and down the hallway to Simon’s door, he paused outside, one ear pressed against it.
      From inside came the murmur of voices. Daniel stole back across the hallway and entered the dining room. The tables were bare, the chairs placed upside-down on them, the floor swept clean. He crossed the darkened room by the light coming in from the main hall, and paused in the doorway. No movement came from either of the front rooms the guests used. The public had gone home, and the few lodgers were all upstairs in their rooms.
      Avoiding a floorboard he knew from past experience contained a persistent creak, Daniel approached the registration desk and opened the third drawer on the left. Lifting out a metal box, he picked the lock and rummaged under the credit card slips. Avoiding the large bills, he stuffed a few pound notes and a handful of coins in his pocket, then relocked the box and replaced it, sliding the drawer closed.
      When he returned to the kitchen, he turned out the lights and left the way the kitchen help should, by the back door, which he remembered to lock as he exited. He turned left, toward Jack Halsey and his other buddies waiting for him at The Scarlet Wench, where he was now prepared to enjoy himself on his employers.
    *

    9:25 PM

    Nora basked in the warmth of the fire, listening to Kate and Simon talk about changing the Sunday lunch to a buffet in the future.
      “We can save money yet offer locals a more varied menu by serving a buffet,” Kate said. “If Keith’s plans go ahead, and Clarendon Hall eventually opens as an art center, people wanting a change from their menu would get served at a buffet much faster. If we have more guests dropping in to eat, we need to keep them moving along.”
      Simon pushed for keeping their current waitress service. “I can see updating the menu, but we do that seasonally anyway. I don’t want to encourage busloads of tourists to stream in here every Sunday, no matter what happens at the Hall. Besides, with Keith dead, who knows what will happen to those plans now?”
      With her eyes closed, Nora thought Simon sounded petulant, a new note for him, and came off as not the best business owner. Did his artistic side chafe at having to run the lodge? Their chat seemed amiable enough, but what would happen when Kate married, eventually had children and was less available to share their chores? Nora shook herself out of her state. It wasn’t her worry right now. She should go to bed or risk falling asleep in the comfortable chair by the fire.
      Nora said goodnight and left, crossing to her door. She stopped abruptly when she heard a noise. For a moment, she had the eerie feeling she was not alone. A door latch clicked into place somewhere down the hall; then there was silence.
      Nora swallowed and opened her door to the welcoming light next to her bed. She shut the door and calmed herself. Chiding herself for her foolishness, she felt her son waving. Could he be an Evan or a Rory? She put a hand on her belly to feel the movement, pushing back against him, and was rewarded with