"Not around"
A voice answered.
A blonde young lady younger or about my age in a plain cream gown, cosset, and scarf walked in. She came forward with a smile to bow slightly, hands clasped together. The cheer in her green eyes were very visible and she appeared a little shy, with her tainted cheeks just like the other Miss church.
"I'm Miss Eve Curtis, the assistant housekeeper, pleased to finally meet you sir"
"Likewise I"
"That is the assistant housekeeper" My mother informed.
I nodded .
"And here I was eager to meet the main steward"
Something changed in her countenance the moment I mentioned him. My mother then asked her to leave and she bowed and left, saying;
"Your room has been made clean Mr. Houston, I would be glad to take you when you are done"
"Thank you, Miss Curtis"
"Why isn't your steward here?"' I asked.
"Family issues son," her voice cracked a little masking the emotion it stemmed in her. "Someone died in the family, it was an urgent leave"
Now that she spoke I took time to observe her. Mrs Houston was nothing but Three and forty. And was quite young for her age, as my father commented every time. She had long brown hair she loved to twist each time, and till now she still loved the hairstyle. She was slim and slender and yes, very tall and built. She was the one we resembled much in that aspect because Mr Houston was not that much of a tall man. We took after her green and hazel eyes, till today despite the loneliness and harsh realities she had faced, their light and liveliness never faded. She was always the easiest to get along with and, I wonder why anybody would wish to hurt this kindhearted woman.
Another fact to be noticed was her attire. She had stopped wearing her mourning wear.
She mourned my father for more than three years of her life only wearing black laces and no other, but seeing her now in the green dress, I presumed she was beginning to move on. Because then, Aunt Agatha had said, if she never decided to stay out of her mourning dress she would never heal.
I wanted to compliment something on that aspect but I chose not to, I didn't want the past flashing back to spoil the moment.
Aunt Agatha, (Mrs. Thorne)was my father's only sister and last two years had recently lost her husband, and from the look of things, she seemed her usual happy self. Her big black eyes glowed each time she spoke, her smiling lips never fading. She added more weight. I caught. She had always been a plump woman, but now just a look at her chubby rosy cheeks confirmed it. Nonetheless, I was happy such a spirited person like her was near my mother. They could share in each other's pain.
"Son, how has school been?"
My thoughts came to an end.
"It went well, mother. The usual school life, studying, studying, and more studying"
"That is too basic to say Eugene", My aunt tapped me.
"Is it?" I retorted with a smile.
"Come one son, there should be more than that"
Mother began. "It's been more than five years. I saw you only five years ago before you entered the school, and since then you never cared to visit". Her voice mellowed as she took a sip of the water.
"I— I had-—"
"Yes, studies, you had to study", She looked into my eyes. The hurt was so visible I couldn't bear to look at her. "The universities allow no women in, I would have come and I only presumed you would visit yourself"
"Mother, I —-"
"It's fine Eugene" She touched my hand to squeeze it. "It's alright" she smiled. "What matters is that you are here now"
"Dennis told me he visited you".
she went on to change the subject.
"Yes, he did, a few times, when he had time"
"That's delightful of him", Mrs Thorne commented.
"When did you leave Tusley to Bewifield, aunt?"
I asked because I never expected to see her here with my mother.
"Oh, that, a few months ago. Your mother sent out a message to me to come stay a little while with her. I had nobody, no child to take care of, so I came through, and also when I heard you were coming back, I was the most eager to see you"
"Mm"
That was interesting. Mother was suddenly changing, what happened? She never wanted anyone near her except us(her children) and after her father's death, she went on to deny all kinds of communication with her former acquaintances and chose to cut herself from society. And now?
Does it have anything to do with the steward? Surely it can't be, that is a total balderdash.
I took a sip of the wine to clear the obnoxious thinking.
I retired that evening and bade them both goodnight, but they chose the extra, they both accompanied me up to the stairs, placing kisses on my cheeks till I appealed to them, to let Miss Curtis lead me to my room, as she was eager to do so, for no reason I could relate to.
"Goodnight son"
"Goodnight Mrs Houston, Mrs Thorne" I bowed. "Have a pleasant night"
"And you as well, our darling"
They both chortled as they retreated down the stairs.
"Well, well, well, to my room Miss Curtis?"
She beamed a skittish smile, hiding her face under her scarf.
"This way sir"
She led me to my room, the one I had since childhood. For some reason, the thought of sleeping there traumatized me. I was about to ask her if another would be prepared for me when she made open the door to reveal the magical transformation that
had been done to the once pale room of a twelve-year-old.
"Who on earth transformed this?" I asked.
My eyes roamed the setting of the room. The bed had been changed from the old upholstered bed to a king-sized one, with a canopy on top, the red muslins on the corners of the bed complimented the red curtains and rug. Everywhere smelled of…..
I took in the fresh breath to find the vases of flowers on the window sills. My favorite flowers. There was lavender, Lilly, and—- moonflower. I loved it the most.
I touched and smelt them. They were fresh and lively as ever, the fine buds splashed the room with more taste.
My former desk and table were changed, everywhere was neat and sparkled anything but dirt. The once-empty shelves were filled with books both new and old.
My feet rushed to it and I picked up a text, one of them I loved and had read many times.
I was dumbfounded. The glee on my face was heavy.
"Who did this Miss Curtis, is it you?"
She seemed a bit hesitant to answer, but she finally did, even though she appeared uncomfortable to say it.
"The Steward" She answered.