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Memories of the Steeles come flooding back- What happens when the past is dug up? |
A Steele Garden Every day for the last ten years, Chloe McDowell had sat at the same window in the same chair. There was an explanation, but the problem was she couldnât remember it. All that she knew was that it had happened when she was about ten years old, and that for some reason, sheâd looked out this window at something. Of course, sitting around for as long as she had, sheâd thought this out a lot. From what she assumed, she knew that what had happened must have been really big, shocking, in order for her to get such an impossible case of amnesia. Also, âitâ had occurred in the basement, because she could remember being in the shadows, perhaps near the wine cellar, but for what? The house was quite old; therefore, the basement was dingy, dark and full of neglected junk. Often, she ventured down the narrow stairs off the kitchen to see if that might spark her memory. But, even being among the old tools and mouldy boxes didnât help. Her mother, now deceased, told her not to play around down there since really, nothing was theirs. The mansion had belonged to the Steele family. Chloe was quite familiar with them, as she had access to all of their family photographs and heirlooms. The family consisted of Jonathan Steele, whoâd married a woman named Serena and together they had a son, Audin. All three were blond with sparkling grey eyes and very pale skin, as though they never went outside. From the photos and magazine clippings sheâd found in a musty album, she knew that Serena had been a model. Jonathan had been involved indirectly in politics, backing his favourites with the familiesâ extensive wealth. Chloe had also found Audinâs birth certificate; heâd been born in April of 1954⌠she was only four months younger. She figured she must have played with him, after all, sheâd been born and raised in this house; how would another child live there as well without them knowing each other? And where was he now? Chloe and Sharon, her mother, had been maids, along with numerous others, of the once-prestigious manor. One day, people just began leaving because it appeared that the Steeles had gone. Day after day passed and no one returned. Slowly, the home began to fall in disarray. As the house deteriorated, so did the cleaning staff, until Chloe and her mother were the only two left. So, technically, they didnât own the house but as no owner came to claim it, they made it home, until recently when Sharon had died. Now it was just Chloe, who often felt lonely but allowed herself to become more and more involved in trying to remember anything about that day. Ten years later, that day was as censored in her mind as if someone had taken a Sharpie and scribbled it out. As she relived every moment she could remember about it, day after day passed in a monotonous blur. Each day was the same as the last until one day when she glanced out the window and someone was on the path, approaching the house. She jumped to her feet in an effort to get a better view. It was a tall man, wearing a heavy coat in an attempt to block the sharp November wind. His clothes were nice, apparently having been tailored to fit him perfectly. And he carried a suitcase, as if he were walking to a hotel instead of a crumbling brick heap of a house. Snapping to her senses, Chloe realized she was going to have to answer the door. She dashed towards the entrance hallway, only pausing to rake her fingers through her hair in a slight attempt to look presentable. A loud knock resounded through the first floor of the house as she skidded to a halt at the front door. Quickly, she opened it and attempted to catch her breath. The man had his fist poised to knock again, clearly not expecting such a prompt answer. ââŚum, hello,â she started. âYes, this is the Steele Manor, isnât it?â His voice was rich and deep, with a very refined accent. âYes, sir. How can I help you? WeâŚI have a phone⌠Iâm sure this isnât where you wanted to end up⌠you probably are lost, right?â She stumbled, taken by the glimmering grey eyes now looking so intently upon her. âNo, sorry, Iâm afraid. If this is Steele Manor, this is exactly were I want to be. I live here.â âPardon?â Chloe responded, taken aback. âI live here,â he repeated. âWell, I did⌠and now Iâve come back to stay.â The first thought went through Chloeâs head was that he was an ex-butler or kitchen staffer or something, which, she supposed, gave him every right to come back to live. But on the other hand, he looked so young, too young to have worked here when the house was actually used. As she became lost in her own thoughts, the man stood on the cracked front steps and tried not to shiver. All of the sudden, Chloe snapped to her senses and realised he was uncomfortable. âOh, gosh, Iâm sorry. Please come in⌠I mean, my⌠the house isnât in the best of shape, but itâs warmâŚâ She stepped aside to let him through the buckling doorway. âThank you.â He sounded grateful as he walked in and quietly removed his coat. âTo tell you the truth, I didnât really expect anyone to still live hereâŚâ âI lived here with my mum until she passed away⌠Actually, Iâve lived here since I was born; I was a maid, but⌠well âŚâ Chloe trailed off, babbling, and then realised what she was doing. âNice to meet you, and condolences on your mother. Uh, what was your name again?â He extended his hand to shake hers. âChloe. Chloe McDowell. Nice to meet you too.â âIâm Thomas. Tom, really.â âHullo Tom. Come on, letâs sit down.â The name Tom rang no bells for her. It had been a very common name among the staff of the house, confirming her idea that he used to work here. They walked silently to the dusty living room, which, though dingy, looked inviting with a roaring fire. âWould you like a cup of tea? Anything from the kitchen?â asked Chloe. âTea will be fine,â Tom replied shortly, settling into an armchair close to the fireplace. As Chloe set off to the kitchen to fetch the tea, she glanced back over her shoulder. She was positive sheâd never met this man, but he just looked so familiar. Also, she noted, he didnât look half-bad. Without the bulky coat, she could see him much more clearly. He had blond hair, about ear length and those eyes. She could hardly look away without being drawn back. They looked like they held infinite depth, wisdom, knowledge of the world all in that small circle of steely grey. Finally, she managed to tear herself away, and turn around in time to avoid running headlong into a wall. Thankfully, he didnât see her little slip-upâhe was staring fixedly into the dancing flames of the fire. A moment later, Chloe returned bearing a tray laden with various biscuits, sugar, milk, and teacups. Gently, she placed it on the slightly wobbly coffee table between Tomâs chair and the one in which she seated herself. Tom reached forward and took one of the two cups, bringing it to his lips. âExcellent tea, it really hits the spot. Itâs so cold already. I didnât expect it to get this frigid until next month.â He tried small talk, following the easiest route- the weather. âWell, itâs always been quite chilly this time of year around here. I think itâs the lake, just beyond the trees that wayâŚâ She gestured out the window. âThe wind blows off it and hits the house.â âFascinating,â he sounded bored. âSo, tell me more about yourselfâŚâ This was clearly what he wanted to direct the conversation towards; he learned forward eagerly when she began to speak. âLike I said before, my mother and I were maids, though I wasnât literally⌠I was a bit too young. When the family who lived here was actually here, I was only a child. They disappeared when I was ten.â âDo you know anything about their disappearances?â âNo. Iâve tried for the last ten years, but I canât seem to remember.â âMaybe itâll come back to you some day. If it does, Iâd be very interested to hear it.â The more he talked, the more Chloe was engrossed. She enjoyed his every little action; there was just something about him that she was so attracted to. âYou need to tell me about yourself!â She blushed as soon as sheâd said it. âUh⌠ok. Me. Iâm uh, twenty, and I grew up in London. I mean, after I left here. Perhaps we knew each other⌠we must be about the same age, right?â âYeah. Iâm twenty too. I mean, as well. Not twenty-two, like t-w-o, I meant t-o-o⌠Twenty comma too. Oh, sorryâŚ,â she was getting redder by the moment. He laughed. âItâs fine, I understand.â âThatâs good. Who knows how long I might have gone onâŚ?â Trying to get past it, Chloe laughed it off, pretending not to be embarrassed. Tom chuckled again. They had sat down at about three in the afternoon, but by the time they got up, evening had slipped past unnoticed until the clock struck 8.00. For five hours they had talked, and were on good terms. They had found out that they shared several interests, and both had amusing stories to tell. Also, the pull Chloe felt towards him made her want to sit and talk forever. Of course, she was surprised when the grandfather clock in the corner sounded a resolute eight, then disappointed to have to get up. âWow, I hadnât realised how late itâd gotten! You must be starving!â She fretted; after all, he hadnât touched any of the tea biscuits sheâd brought out on the tray. âI could perhaps eat. Iâm positive I wouldnât die though if itâs inconvenient to youâŚ.â He said quietly, following her to the kitchen. âItâs no problem at all⌠I have plenty. Itâs just the fact that I havenât defrosted any meat or anythingâŚ.â âWhatever you have will be fine. You donât have to go to any lengths to please meâŚyouâve already found the way to my heart, without my stomach.â This comment put her off for a moment, while she tried to work it out. Then, yet again, a furiously red flush spread across her cheeks. âWas that⌠did you just say youâŚ?â She couldnât string together the questions whirling around in her head. âYouâre beautiful Chloe. And so charming. I fear Iâm falling for you. Head over heelsâŚ. Which really isnât the best way for me, I have terrible balanceâŚ.â His last comment broke the tension and they both laughed, while Chloeâs mind reeled at what heâd said before his funny remark. He was falling for her. And though she might not be ready to admit it aloud as daringly as he had, she was falling for him as well. Hiding back a smile, she set out preparing spaghetti, which sheâd pulled out from a cupboard. * * * That night after dinner (âDelicious!â Tom had exclaimed.) Chloe showed him to a room where he could stay. Just to please him, sheâd given him the largest bedroom, in which Jonathan and Serena Steele had used. When she swung the door open to admit him, he gazed around keenly, apparently impressed at the high ceilings and details. âThis room is amazing! Itâs so big, especially compared to the rest of the house.â This couldnât have been any truer; the other rooms of the manor were low ceilinged and cramped, whereas this room was spacious and bright. âWhy donât you sleep in here? I mean, if it were only me living here, Iâd pick the best roomâŚ.â âI donât know, I guess I just like smaller roomsâŚ.â Chloe shrugged. The truth was that she still slept in the quarters assigned to her in the time of Steelesâ living in the house. She hadnât bothered to switch, itâd had just always felt like they were going to come home again, like theyâd only been on vacation. But for ten years? It was highly doubtful. âI guess Iâll see you in the morningâŚ,â she started. Tom turned to face her. âGoodnightâŚ,â he said softly, and kissed her gently on the cheek. All of the sudden, her knees felt weak. âGoodnightâŚ,â she finally managed to spit out, before forcing her legs to carry her away, back downstairs. When she looked back, heâd gone into his room and closed the door. She sighed lightly and flounced to her own bedroom. The next morning, Chloe awoke bright and early. After washing up and getting dressed, she proceeded to the kitchen, which, to her disappointment, was still completely devoid of Tom. So, instead of waiting around, she started cooking breakfast. Nine deep chimes rippled though the house, signalling her normal breakfast time, and still there were no signs of her houseguest. Losing her patience completely, Chloe threw together a tray of food, and headed upstairs. Stopping in front of his door, she knocked sharply, and after an answer, walked in. Tom was sitting on the bed, poring over the albums of photographs sheâd hastily shoved back into the drawer last time sheâd looked at them. The Steele family glared up from the yellowing pages held in his arms. âOh, thatâs the family that used to live here,â she said, placing the tray of food on the dresser and sitting next to him. âSee, thatâs Jonathan, a politician. Thereâs Serenaâyeah, she used to be a model⌠Ah. Thereâs baby AudinâŚ. Another of SerenaâŚ.â âSerena was a model? Maybe the family moved to Paris or somethingâŚ.â âNo, I donât think so. After she had Audin, no one wanted to hire her. She spent most of her days waiting for someone to call, or for a telegraph or something⌠Eventually, she became an alcoholic. All she ever did was drinkâŚ,â Chloe couldnât believe the words coming out of her mouth. Ten years of thought and digging in the past⌠Now all these things were just materialising in her mindâŚ. And they were true. As soon as she said it, she knew. Excited at what she could find out next, she reached to turn the page in the album, accidentally brushing against Tomâs hand with her own in the process. All of the sudden, a flash sparked in her mind. Of course, Serena had been an alcoholic and that day, the one she couldnât remember, sheâd been in the basement to get a bottle of wine from the wine cellar! Thatâs why she was down there! She felt her pulse quicken; maybe, after all these years, she might remember why the family was gone; what had happened ten years ago⌠âIs something wrong?â Tom looked at her, apparently concerned. âYou look botheredâŚ.â âItâs⌠Iâve just remembered something importantâŚ. But, ok, where were we?â âYouâd just shown me the child, Audin.â âOh, ok.â Quickly, Chloe launched herself into a long-winded explanation of what she knew about the family, to cover up her excitement and to hopefully reveal more hidden memories. Sheâd decided that she would tell Tom about her revelation laterâshe actually wanted to know more before she blabbed out what she did. And, while slightly childish, she thought that if she said it aloud, she might not be able to remember anymore; certainly that was the last thing she wanted since sheâd tried so hard for ten years and got nowhere. Tom turned the page with a small rustle, and Audinâs birth certificate lay face up between the aging paper sheets. âThis is fascinating⌠So this family just disappeared?â he asked, a hint of some emotion playing around his mouth, turning up the corners in a funny little smile. âYes⌠They just vanishedâŚ.â âSo this kid, he was born around the same time as you?â âYeah, only he was born on the 11th of April. I was born on July 8th. Same year though.â âHmmm, Audin Thomas SteeleâŚ,â he began, trailing off quickly. âI donât think his parents were happy with him. I mean, he kind of ruined Serenaâs modelling career⌠no one would hire her after he was born...â There was another memoryâclear visions of the child crouched to the floor, cowering from his father flashed in front of her eyes. âHe was abused. His father hit him. And his mother⌠she mostly pretended he didnât exist⌠which probably hurt as much as the violence. I mean, being completely ignored by your mother? Thatâs terribleâŚ.â Truthful words once again streamed out of her mouth, and memories, as if from a broken dam, flooded back into her head, filling in blank spots. Tom seemed to be the missing link, the key that unlocked a secret vault of full of the Steele family. Now Chloe absolutely wanted him to stay. He was nice, handsome and was quickly, though unknowingly, helping her to unravel the mystery that had tortured her for the last ten years. And Tom did stay. Fall slipped into winter, and by the time it had released its snowy grip for spring, they were much more than friends. Unfortunately, nothing more about âitâ had been uncovered since that day when she just remembered. Tom now played a bigger part in her life than what had happened to some family years ago in the past. She no longer sat at her window, preferring much more to sit with Tom and enjoy each otherâs company. Rarely were the Steeles mentionedâit just didnât interest them as much as Chloe did for Tom, or Tom did for Chloe. It was rapidly approaching Easter, and Chloe was planning an extravagant meal for the two of them to share. She had a ham, an excellent supply of potatoes and nearly everything else she would need. As she flitted around the kitchen, getting ready to make trifle for a dessert, she opened the icebox only to find that they were completely out of milk. âTom dear, did you use the rest of my milk? You know I needed that for your dessert!â She pretended to sound angry. âIâm sorry⌠I needed it in my tea this morning. How about I run to the store and get you a new bottle?â He wrapped his arm around her shoulder. âSounds splendid. Be back soon?â She looked up at him, since he was quite a bit taller than her. âVery soon. I donât want to leave you all alone, do I? And that trifle couldnât possible wait any longer, could it?â Tom joked, before bending down and kissing her cheek. âSee you in a bit.â âByeâŚâ She followed him as he stepped out onto the steps. He waved to her as she slowed closed the door behind him. Sighing, she quickly walked to the old window she used to sit at everyday to watch him make his way down the path. Then, a memory hit her as hard as tidal wave. A small boy, blond, was walking away. The same exact way Tom was walking now. All of the sudden, that day, what had happened in the basement, flooded into her head and flickered before her eyes like some sickening version of the cinema. It was a normal day, as normal as that could be. A Saturday of course, meaning Audin would be home from schoolâtherefore, the yelling and fighting wouldnât stop until Monday. Already Jonathan had hit Audin in the head, right after breakfast, but now the house remained eerily quiet. A slurred voice drifted from upstairsâ âChloe! You worthless little ogre! Get yourself downstairs and donât come back without a bottle of wine! And for godâs sake be quick about it!â Serena, at 10.30 in the morning, was already drunk. âIâll be right up Mrs. Steele.â She called back politely, before heading towards the stairs. On her way through the kitchen, she passed Audin, who looked pathetic with a black eye forming, and a helpless expression on his face. She tried her best to give him an encouraging smile, but was only met with a deep scowl. Quickly, she hopped down the stairs and walked to the wine cellar. Unfortunately, Chloe couldnât reach any of the bottles; all of the lower ones had already been taken. It was odd, since Jonathan Steele had had the cellar restocked in the spring, and she was sure that Serena didnât drink that much. Frantically, she searched for something to boost herself up a few inches, through after about ten minutes, was still failing miserably. The sound of yelling and feet on the kitchen floor above her told her that Mrs. Steele had lost her patience. âI knew you couldnât complete even the simplest tasks! Youâre a simpleton, just like your mother! When you were born, I knew! I should have just fired the lot of you!â Serena Steeleâs high-pitched voice carried down the basement stairs. âBut no! I couldnât fire Sharon. If sheâd have been gone, I never would have had to deal with youâŚCanât even fetch a bottleâŚâ Her voice was suddenly cut short, and Chloe heard a faint gasp of surprise before she heard an ear-splitting crash, which lasted for a few seconds. She darted away from the aging shelves to peer out the door to see what had happened. Mrs. Steele lay in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the stairs, apparently having fallen down them. The door was open at the top, and Audinâs silhouette was visible against the kitchen background. He slowly turned and began to yell. âFather! Father! Motherâs fallen down the stairs! You must come quickly!â Audin didnât sound remotely like he was concerned. As soon as he finished summoning his father, he ran down the stairs and crouched in the shadows, directly across from where Chloe was. Jonathan Steele thundered down the stairs, apparently concerned, at least for his wife. He bent over near Serena, as if to check for a pulse, but straightened up immediately as Audin jumped forth, clutching an old iron rake. âSon⌠pleaseâŚ.â It was actually the first time that Jonathan had admitted any relation to the pale and trembling child before him. He was cut short, just as Serena was, for Audin swung the rake at him, dragging it across his face and knocking him lifeless. The eldest Steele fell to the floor, bleeding from perfectly spaced lacerations running the length of his face. Audin set to work. First, he ran over to a rickety workbench along the far wall, and when he returned, carried a large black plastic bag. He shook it open before putting it over his fatherâs head, and tying it around his neck with a length of rope heâd extracted from his pocket. âOh my godâŚâ Chloe breathed. Next, Audin picked up his rake again, and brought it down on his mother. Then did it again. Repeatedly he struck her head and neck, until the rake carried matted hair and blood on every upswing, throwing the stomach-turning mess against the wall. Once he was satisfied with the damage heâd done to his mother, he turned and did the same to his father. Finally, panting, Audin threw the rake aside and ran up the stairs, leaving his parents on the floor. Chloe, after ascertaining the coast was clear, dashed over to the Steeles. It was apparent they were both dead. Serena was horrible mutilated, while Jonathanâs bag leaked blood around his neck. Neither were breathing. Chloe began to hyperventilate and attempted not to cry or scream in terror. Footsteps thumped over her head, and a moment later, a door slammed. Wanting to know what was going on, and because she didnât want to be down here fighting nausea, she crept upstairs into the parlour and stood at a window. Audin was walking down the path, though all she could see to recognise him was his blond head. The adult Chloe snapped back into reality, and picked herself up off the ground. In her trance, sheâd fallen to her knees and, after wiping at her face, found herself crying. She glanced out the window. Tom, Audin, was walking up the path. She trembled uncontrollably as she walked rapidly to the door, ready to confront him. âYou killed them! You sickâŚ. You killed your own parents!â She had trouble remaining coherent. âHowâŚwhat do you know?â âYou killed them! Youâre not Tom⌠youâre Audin Steele⌠Oh my god! Youâre a murderer!â âHow smart of you. Audin Thomas Steele. You mean to tell me you never figured that out? Iâm returning to my houseâŚâ âWhy? Whyâd you do it?!â âI hated my parents. They hated me. They got what they deserved.â Audin was remaining calm, almost too calm, and it was unnerving. âI saw the whole thing! Iâm going to the police⌠you need to be in jail or a mental hospitalâŚâ âI thought youâd seen it. After all, it was I who took all those bottles of wine out of the lower shelves, so my mother would get impatient and come down the stairs. I waited in the kitchen⌠perfectly enough, there was a ten-year-old Audin-sized cupboard which suited my concealment needs perfectly. I believe you keep pasta in it now. Anyway, you saw the rest of my master plan⌠but went off without a hitch? Not quite. You see, thereâs one person who knows about what I didâŚâ Chloeâs vision doubled as she nearly passed out. From the brown paper bag he was carrying, he pulled out a trowel, which appeared to have a very sharp tip⌠âI thought you loved me Chloe. And love means trust. I trusted in you to let this rest, to not try and figure this out. Why would you care about anything in the past anyway?â âYeah, well, you killing your parents isnât exactly normal, or sane even. I canât believe Iâve shared my home with some mental⌠filthy, disgusting murderer!â âDo you not see this from my point of view? I was beaten, abused, nearly killed on several occasions! They didnât love me, and I think they got what they deserved. You did love me, or so I thought. I wanted you to sympathise with me. But, youâre just one of them, I see know. Youâre heartless, spineless and I donât need you anymore. So, because of your own stupidity in telling me, the murderer, as you so nicely put it, youâll see what ten years of trying to figure this out will get youâŚâ Audin smiled maliciously, before plunging the garden tool into her stomach. She didnât even have time to scream before the world went black. |