Free Heller's Regret by J.D. Nixon Page A

we sipped from her delicate,
floral china, sweltering in the humidity. Well, I was at least. Mrs
Grimsley appeared as fresh as a daisy as she carefully held her
teacup. I gulped my tea, despite its bitterness, wanting the
torture to end as soon as possible. I was worried I might faint
with heat exhaustion if it became any hotter. I decided the first
thing I would do when she left was crack a few windows open and
maybe just lay in the front yard, swallowing in fresh air,
regardless of what the neighbours thought.
    “I can see you were thirsty,” she exclaimed
with delight, probably the first time that her tea had been
‘appreciated’ for years. She topped up my cup with her shaky hands,
and I watched her closely, breath held, afraid that she would burn
herself with her unsteady actions. I didn’t have the heart to say
no to more tea, even though I was almost melting.
    “Thank you, Mrs Grimsley, that’s lovely,” I
lied, discreetly wiping the perspiration from my brow. I took
another polite swig of tea, remembering what I’d read on the
internet about people in very steamy climes drinking hot beverages
liberally. I guess it made sense – it probably helped you
sweat , I thought and sipped my tea. It was certainly helping me
sweat.
    Somehow, I managed four cups before I felt my
bladder pressing down on me. She directed me to an ancient toilet,
which she referred to as the ‘water closet’. Possibly the first
one ever installed in the city , I thought idly as I pulled the
chain to flush. I took the chance to splash my face with lukewarm
water from the washbasin tap, noticing my reddened appearance in
the spotty mirror. I returned to find with dismay, my cup filled to
the brim again.
    But as I sat there drinking that other cup
(fifth or sixth? I couldn’t remember). An unexpected chill crept
around me. Ooh! I thought happily, maybe the
air-conditioning had finally kicked in . Tendrils of icy air
wended their very welcome way around my legs, slinking up my body
until I actually shivered.
    “Is everything alright, Miss Chalmers?” she
asked, sharp-eyed.
    “I suddenly got a chill. Your
air-conditioning is slow to fire up on a hot day, but thank
goodness it finally arrived.” She smiled with satisfaction.
    We finished our tea and I carried the tray
back to the kitchen, quickly but carefully washing up the china. We
went to sit in the parlour, a generous room overlooking the front
yard, full of large, Victorian-era sofas and wing-backed armchairs.
I rubbed my arms, which had broken out in goose bumps,
vigorously
    “I can’t believe how quickly the
temperature’s changed. It’s really quite cool now, isn’t it? Your
air-conditioning must be very powerful,” I marvelled.
    She smiled tightly. “I did warn you that it
is a very cold house, Miss Chalmers.” She paused for a moment. “You
can take your choice of bedrooms upstairs. There are a number of
them to choose from. I sleep in a small room on this floor. The
stairs are just too much for me these days, I’m afraid. I don’t go
up there very often anymore at all.” She sighed. “This house is
just too big for me to manage by myself, I know that, but I have to
keep going for Samuel’s sake. My biggest concern is his welfare.
I’m his only remaining family and I’m ever fearful that they will
take him away from me. I don’t know what will happen to him then.
Every knock on the door makes my heart pound.” She smiled sadly. I
squeezed her hand sympathetically, catching a movement in the
corner of my eye. I glanced over to the doorway in time to see a
little head disappear.
    “I just saw him,” I told Mrs Grimsley in a
low voice. She clasped her hands together.
    “Wonderful! I’d call him over, but there’s no
point. It won’t be long before he comes to meet you himself. Now
he’s made an appearance, I know he’s not afraid of you.”
     

Chapter 7
     
    I kept my eye on the doorway, smiling in a
friendly manner when I noticed the little head