Halversham (13 page)

When the car finally came to a halt, Andy saw a wide white-washed house gleaming in the afternoon light. The top floor had a circular balcony overlooking the driveway, and there were elaborate windows on both floors, paneled in white. Millie pulled the hand break and released her seatbelt as Andy gaped at the imposing house before them.

“Come on, let’s go,” she said, and Andy got out of the car. They walked up the stairs to the terrace but instead of knocking on the huge oak doors, Millie simply withdrew a set of keys from her handbag and opened them.

“Isn’t he home?”

“Oh yes, he is. But he hates answering the door. So he gave me a pair of keys.”

“Wouldn’t he mind us entering like this?”

“Who do you think opened the gate?” Millie smiled. “Come on, don’t be so scared.”

Andy followed her into the cold, dark house. Except for the missing cobwebs, it didn’t seem as if anyone had lived here in a long time. Millie ran her fingers along the wall, flicked a switch, and the hall came into view: a fireplace, a set of wine-colored couches, and tables, along with a dark, winding wooden staircase leading up to the second floor. Empty wine glasses with traces of dried wine on the rim stood on coasters on the main table. The more intimate part of the living room seemed to be on his right, with an elaborate designer wine rack, polished and filled with countless bottles of wine. Even the lighting was different here with a pretty chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Andy was impressed with the collection of wines, which rivaled his father’s. It was obviously the most prized section of the house.

“Let me show you around this floor before we head up,” Millie said.

“Where is he?”

“In his office upstairs, most likely.” Millie crossed the living room and headed for the hallway.

“What does he do?”

“Read, research. He likes that type of thing.” Andy nodded. “There are three bedrooms here on this floor, and all of them are locked. Only my father has the keys.” All the rooms were on either side of the hallway, and they all had the same dark, formidable oak doors that basically screamed “Keep out.” In the final stretch of the hallway, right next to a restroom, was a glass display mounted on the wall. Arranged inside were myriad wine labels, carefully extracted and preserved over the years in delicate plastic sheaths. Some of them were so old the words were barely legible. Almost all of them had turned brown and crumbly with time and wine spill.

“Told you he’s a wine enthusiast. The kitchen is at the end of this hallway—you’ll see what I meant earlier.”

True to her words, the sink was piled with plates, cups, and bowls balancing precariously one on top of the other. Millie reached out and removed half of them to set them on the counter. A pungent odor emanated from the cabinets below, but Andy was busy paying attention to Millie, who was leading him to more doors. “That’s the door to the backyard, and the door to your right is the laundry room,” she said, opening it. Apart from a standard washer and dryer, the pristine white room had rows and rows of cupboards and racks stocked with linen and towels.

She crossed the kitchen to the other side and opened another door. “This is the store room. As you can see, it’s not very organized,” she said, closing the door again, not that Andy had seen a thing in the dark. “Come, let me take you upstairs and introduce you to my father.”

Andy’s palms turned moist again and he wiped them on his pants.

The TV room was at the top of the stairs, the space smaller than the main hall downstairs and a large flat-screen TV was on the wall, with couches spread all around.

“This is the library,” Millie said, opening the door to his left. Bookshelves filled the room from floor to ceiling, and a massive rectangular table with computers and headphones sat in the middle, surrounded by cushioned wooden chairs. “Much of this house was ripped apart and simplified according to my father’s taste, which I think is a shame. Because other than the wine labels and the racks you saw downstairs, it completely lacks personality. And that’s just the way he likes it. I think it looked much better the way the previous owners designed it,” Millie said, shrugging.

“Is there a basement in this house?”

Millie was taken by surprise and she didn’t try to conceal it. “How did you know that?”

“I don’t. I’m just asking.”

“Yes, there’s a basement. But it’s off-limits. My father goes down there from time to time, but absolutely no one else is allowed in. Not even me.”

Andy’s heart did a quick somersault. “Why?”

“It’s a wine cellar. He keeps his more expensive collections in there with careful climate control.”

“I see.”

“At the end of this hallway, you’ll find one of the guest rooms in this floor. Of course, it’s locked,” she said, pointing to a door at the far end. “And now, on the other side of the TV room—that’s my father’s office and the door next to it is his suite. Ready to meet the man?” Andy nodded. “Good. There’s something I need to tell you about him, Andy.”

“I know. He’s mean and scary.”

“No—yes. I mean, he looks scary physically.”

“How do you mean?”

“He has an illness, so he looks different from us. All I ask is that you act cool and not get frightened.”

Andy swallowed hard and his legs itched to make a run. “How different?”

“Very different. You think you can handle it?”

He nodded as the pounding in his heart increased a notch.

“Okay. Good,” Millie said and rapped on Mr. Milton’s office door before opening it. Andy stood behind her. If the old man shouted, at least he’d be hidden from the tempest.

“Dad?” Millie said in a sweet voice.

A second passed before another voice boomed from inside the room.

“You’re still here!”

“Of course I’m still here. I promised I’d find you help before I left, didn’t I?”

“I told you not to…”

“He’s here,” Millie cut the man off before he could finish.

“Where?!” the raspy voice boomed again.

Millie opened the door wider and Andy stepped in beside her.

What Andy saw next was confusing. Rising from the desk was an old man with features Andy could scarcely make out. Bulbous growths covered his face and neck by the hundreds, making him look like some kind of grotesque beast. The lump under his jaw was so big, it jiggled as he rose.

“Here,” said Millie.

“A boy? You brought a boy to help me?”

“I… I’m almost sixteen,” Andy said, ready to bolt from the creature before him. It could not possibly be human, his mind screamed, and yet it spoke.

“Andy, this is my father, Mr. Alfred Milton. Dad, this is Andrew J. Monaghan, Patricia Monaghan’s son.”

The beast paused and eyed him curiously. “You’re Patricia’s son?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Come closer,” he bellowed.

Millie and Andy stepped into his office, each taking a seat opposite him. The man sat down again. Up close, he looked even more grotesque and menacing. Amidst the bulging growths, Andy spotted bushy eyebrows stretched into one thick grey line above two barely noticeable eyes. In the time Andy had taken to appraise his appearance, the creature had done the same to him, hunching awkwardly in his chair and peering into his face.

“You don’t look like her one bit,” Mr. Milton said.

Andy’s heart gave a twinge and he dropped his gaze. He didn’t want to find out the traces of his mother were disappearing from him, but he wasn’t about to go into battle with the creature so he remained quiet.

“How is she?”

“Dad, Patricia passed away a few days ago.”

Mr. Milton did not appear ruffled by the news, but he did lower his eyes and grunt. “I’m sorry.” He took a deep breath and released it slowly, clasping his hands before him on the table. “So, how is this boy going to help me around here, Millicent?” His voice was laced with contempt.

“He’ll clean, wash, dust, and tend to the lawn outside.”

“You think I can’t do that myself?”

“If you can, then why, Dad, is the grass as tall as my son? And why are the dishes in the sink piled sky high?” The old man grunted again. “Dad, you don’t have to admit it, but you need help around here. The doctor…”

“I know what the doctor said!” the creature thundered.

“Then you know we need Andy’s help.”

“I don’t need any help! I don’t want anybody on my property, you hear?”

“Dad, we already talked about this,” Millie said calmly.

“I said no!” He screamed again. Andy’s bladder loosened and he was ready to run. “Now, get out. Both of you.”

Millie took a deep breath and glared at her father. She looked threatening, and it was a side of hers Andy had not seen before. When she glanced at Andy again, her lips were thin and her face crimson. “Andy, will you please wait in the TV room while I have a word with my father?”

“Sure.”

He got up and left the room in a hurry. Millie’s voice rose as soon as he closed the door behind him. He tried to eavesdrop, but it was impossible through the thick door; the sounds were muffled at best. He looked around and headed for the TV room to think about what he had just seen. What kind of illness turned a person into a monster? The man clearly despised people. He very well could have kidnapped a girl and hidden her in the basement for whatever twisted reason. Should he wander down and look for the basement while the two of them argued in that room? But if they caught him snooping around, he’d have no way of ever discovering the truth. Andy pushed the thought away. He’d have plenty of time to roam about and investigate once Millie won him the job. So he waited in the TV room, admiring the flat screen. Since he didn’t dare turn it on, he stared at his own reflection on the black screen.

Fifteen minutes later, Mr. Milton’s door clicked open, and Millie’s voice called out for him.

“Andy, come on over.”

Andy rose from the couch and rushed to the office.

“Come in and sit,” Mr. Milton said, his voice even. Millie sat next to Andy again and the old man clasped his hands on the table. “Fine, you’ll help around the house as Millie said.”

“Thanks, Mr. Milton.”

“Now, if you’re going to be on my property, there are rules you must follow. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“First rule: You will never come in before eleven in the morning and you will leave before four in the afternoon. Second, your tasks are to wash the dirty dishes, clean the kitchen, do my laundry from time to time, and mow the lawn. You won’t do any cooking and you will not eat or sleep here. If I catch you sleeping, I’ll have you thrown out so fast you won’t know what happened. You are allowed a twenty-minute break in the kitchen during lunchtime and you will not bring anyone else into my home. You will bring your own food and never attempt to cook here. Next, your movement in this house is restricted to the main floor. You will never ever come up here unless I summon you. And as Millie has already told you, you are not allowed in the basement, either. You will not touch any of my wines in the kitchen or anywhere else in this house. Or I will hurt you, boy,” he said this with such ferocity that Andy shuddered. “Do you understand?” The man clenched his fist as if he were about to pound his desk.

“Yes.”

“Good. Now get out of here.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Millie said. She then turned to Andy and said, “Andy, you will start tomorrow.”

“Yes. And you can start by cleaning my kitchen.”

“I will.”

The reason for their visit settled, Millie and Andy rose to leave.

“Oh, here’s a spare key,” Mr. Milton said. “You’ll enter through the back door and leave the same way. I will not come down and play butler for either of you.” He pulled a key out from a bunch of them on his desk and handed it to Andy.

Millie left the room and Andy followed suit, holding his breath until they reached the terrace. It was probably the most nerve-racking experience of his life, but on the whole, he was happy with the outcome. The way Mr. Milton had set the conditions, Andy could freely roam everywhere downstairs, and if he found the door to the basement, he could easily investigate there as well.

“Neurofibromatosis,” Millie said as they went down the terrace to her car.

“How?”

“Genetics.” Millie shrugged.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to scare you off. But you handled yourself pretty well in there. Are you still willing to work for him?”

Andy thought of Emily Doyne and took a deep breath. Even Millie didn’t know what went on in the basement. He had to at least try.

“Yes, I am.”

“Good.”

“Why do I have to arrive after eleven and leave before four?” Although it was perfect and would allow him time to spend with Corrine, he was curious.

“I think he doesn’t want you in his way while he’s having his brunch downstairs. And he comes down for a glass of wine after four before preparing dinner. He did a decent job of telling you he doesn’t want to see your face, didn’t he?” Millie smiled.

“Nah, I understand. It’s his house and he wants to live a quiet life without having people invading his privacy.”