Low lighting and heavy drapes held the evening at bay. Valerie Trent sat across from her new client, Anita Wallace, who was devoid of makeup, her hair chopped short, her shoulders hunched.
”Anita can you tell me why you are here?”
“My husband died six months and five days ago and I keep thinking I killed him”
”Did you?”
Her eyes filled with anguish. ” I don’t know, he tripped over my foot as I scrambled away from him and he went over the cliff to his death.”
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Pat and Dan had bought their house a few years before. They loved the quirky house even though it seemed lonely and unloved, spending their time renovating it a room at a time.
Their final job was decorating the landing area. Stripping the wallpaper and paintwork at the end of the passage, Dan found that there was a portion fitted with hardboard. Prying it off a door stood behind it.
Cautiously they opened it shining a torch around. It was a nursery. Everything was dusty and faded, such a sad room. Walls were covered with murals of animals, there was a crib with pink lace, a nursing chair, and a sideboard on which sat a book. Picking it up Pat wiped the dust off. Opening it up, there were happy family photos and towards the end were news reports of a tragic accident. A mother and child had been killed. Pat’s eyes filled up. Looking at Dan, she could sense he felt it too. Now they knew why their house was so sad. Expecting their first child, Pat hugged her stomach, promising the child that they would make it a happy home again.
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