A Small Respite

Gladys

“We are gathered here today to bid farewell to a member of our family. Great aunt Gladys will be sorely missed. Let us not dwell on the past but instead move forward into the future. That is exactly what she would have wanted.”

A stout gentleman dressed in an old tweed jacket he most likely excavated from his closet was leaning against the intricate pillar of the fireplace as he gave a quick speech. He threw back his glass and quickly swallowed the amber liquid. His heavy set shoulders heaved as his cheeks began to turn an unhealthy shade of crimson; he let out a soggy cough as he turned to speak to the small group of people around him.

“Tis’ a shame really, old Gladdy was a crazy coot but she has the most exquisite taste in beverages. Oh, oops, I mean HAD.” A snorting sound escaped the man’s nose.

Amused with his statement, he elbowed the woman to his immediate right before shoving his glass in the direction of the young server indicating he was ready for another.

“What say you Matilda? You sad Gladdy is gone?”

The woman seemed to hunch in on herself to a staggering degree. Lean and long akin to a wicker statue the woman looked as if she would fall over in the slightest breeze; to withstand the elbowing of a tweed covered walrus revealed much of her character.

“Ronald perhaps you’ve had enough dear.” The woman looked out of the corner of her eye meekly towards her husband.

The man burst into a ruckus of guffawing laughter at the whispered question proposed by his wife. The server had been standing just out of reach from the man when he lunged towards her direction and grabbed the entire bottle of 1858 Cuvee Léonie off the silver platter it had been resting on.

“What sane man would ever dream of passing up this glorious delight? What say you gentlemen will you join me in a toast?”

Eyes shifted from around the room as the patriarch of the family offered up an exquisite treat to those that wished for it. Well-dressed men with impeccably placed smiles were opening their arms to the rosy-cheeked gentleman now blatantly leaning his back against the mantle and sweating profusely. His wife standing off to the side gripped her barely touched wine glass tightly into her chest.

“Matilda why don’t you come show Betsy your lovely necklace Ronald brought you back from Italy?” A small, quite plump woman beckoned from the other side of the room.

While the men were clamoring over their preferred descriptive adjectives for the liquid they were indulging in, the women grouped themselves into small clumps on the other side of the parlor. Several peripheral groups consisted of younger women with downcast eyes and moderate appearances. Whether they were truly mourning the loss of a family member, or their social position within the family, one could only guess. They cast glances to the woman who had summoned the meek Matilda.

            Standing amidst four other women, most aptly described as tropical birds, was the one who believed herself to be the true matriarch of the family. Silver and gold jewelry adorned every inch of her body, sparkling and casting light across the room with every zealous flip of her perfectly manicured hands. The woman spoke loudly to her gaggle so as to include the other groups in on the discussion, while simultaneously drawing her line of exclusion. The birds all chirped in laughter at some inconsequential nonsense. Matilda approached the group slowly, feeling the eyes of the other women boring into her willowed back.

“Dear Matilda so nice of you to join us! And what do we have here? Oh such a large babble is lost on someone with no… poignant assets.” The shorter woman had reached out to grab the necklace surrounding Matilda’s neck. Sausage shaped fingers roughly found their way around the piece of jewelry and unceremoniously yanked forward for a closer look.

“Such a shame indeed, beautiful stones these are.” The woman standing before Matilda eyed the rocks in her hand as if they were the last morsels of food in a forsaken barren landscape. Matilda was forced to hunch forward more than ever and desperately wished to escape the harpy’s clutches.

“Rowena, thank you for coming to Aunt Gladys’ funeral today.” Matilda breathed the words so as only the woman in front of her could hear.

Rowena finally met the eyes of Matilda, still fingering the jewels of the necklace acting as a noose for the huddled woman. Deep set beady eyes that seemed to glisten with some unknown liquid stared at Matilda out of a chubby, bubble of a face. Rowena furrowed her brow and audibly huffed as she finally let go of her stranglehold.

“Of course I would come! Gladys was like a mother to me after all.” Rowena cooed for the benefit of her audience.

“But I must say that lawyer is taking an awfully long time preparing for the reading of the will.” A snicker exited her lips as she attempted to cross her arms in front of her body only to end up loosely hugging herself.

Through the noises of the crowd, muffled voices came from the direction of the open door as two men calmly strode in with heads held high. One man held himself in high regard being smartly dressed and portraying a friendly demeanour. He was clearly attempting to lead the other man into the room but failing quite spectacularly. His arms outstretched and welcoming, a smile placed across his face that could put shame to the Cheshire himself. The second man was older but wore his age well and with pride. He was dressed quite finely but sensibly for the occasion. In his left hand was a black leather briefcase which he held quite tightly to his side as he eyed the parlour and ignored the man trying to curry favour.

The lawyer accompanying the last will and testament of the deceased scanned the room quickly before deciding his next course of action. Across from the parlour was an elaborately decorated writing desk perfect for addressing his audience. The lawyer fixated on his destination before the other man could utter a word.

“Ladies and Gentlemen may I have your attention.” The lawyer proclaimed to the room as he began to walk towards the writing desk.

“Oh finally he is here! Such great news I have an important appointment and must take my leave as soon as this is over!” Rowena fussed to her flock, adding more dramatic swishes of her jewelry-laden hands.

“Top notch gentlemen! Your timing is impeccable I was beginning to get peckish!” Ronald barely moved forwards before he nearly fell over, only the hands of the younger gentlemen steadying him on his feet.

Matilda stood still as the room shifted around her. Everyone in attendance was keen to be near the two men who had entered the parlour. The lawyer glided towards the desk with brisk and calculated movements as eyes in the room followed him like famished animals in the middle of a jungle. Those that felt themselves most important were aptly positioned barely 2 feet from the lawyer as he placed his briefcase on the desk and pulled out the chair to sit down.

            The tall woman withdrew from the encroaching audience as if she was envisioning her own disappearing presence. She had taken several steps backwards towards the wall opposite from the elaborate fireplace, and adjacent to the spectacle occurring around the ornate writing desk. She let out a small sigh seemingly more comfortable being further away from the happenings in the room. Matilda slowly closed her eyes and loosened her drip on the wine glass threatening to shatter in her hands. When finally she had brought calm to herself she opened her eyes and was met with an inquisitive gaze.

The look of surprise on the face of Matilda when she met my eyes was difficult to describe. She seemed both elated and quite sad as she slowly drew her eyes away from mine and regarded the rest of my form. A soft smile was placed on my lips as she scanned my features and state. My hair of loose brown curls cascaded down my shoulders, being pinned in several uniform places. I wore a simple blue dress that hugged at my waist but allowed me to move as it reached the floor. One hand was gently resting on my stomach while the other was placed on the mantle. I stood by the fire place as if waiting to depart but still being perfectly content with keeping my place.

I enjoyed watching the spectacle that was unfolding in the parlour. From my position at the mantle of the fireplace I could regard the room with ease and in its entirety. So many people bustling and faffing about brought so much life into the stuffy room. The lacey curtains were drawn on all four of the picture windows allowing the soft glow of the afternoon light into the room. I watched as the light slowly crept along the floor seeming to be searching for something in particular. One particular beam of light seemed brighter than the rest as I watched it move across the floor, exploring new territory. Warmth washed through my body as I felt perfectly in tune with such inquisitive sunlight.

Within minutes I noticed that the little patches of sunlight dancing across the floor began to fade. Shadowy tendrils emerged from the darkest corners of the room and seemed to seek out any and all forms of light. I watched as the light in the parlour grew dim and a small tingle of fear jolted through my body.

Not here. Not here. Not here…

            Cold, unadulterated fear shook through my body as a disembodied voice echoed through my head. All I wanted to do was to run, run from the voice, run from the encroaching shadows and never look back. The shadows had completely taken over the room light a heavy, thick cloud of ink. The ice in my veins turned to acid as the fear spurred me to take action.

Not here. Not here. Not-

            As soon as my mind had cleared and willed my body to move the voice went silent. I strained to listen, to hear any sound coming from around me. The black void encompassing the parlour made it impossible to determine presence; all I could do was listen.

Ah. Found it.

            A sudden flash of light left my eyes watering with unshed tears as the sunshine in the parlour returned. I carefully scanned the room for any remnants of the ordeal which had just taken place. The large crowd of fettered hens and intoxicated ponces continued to drool in the general vicinity of the lawyer. My gaze drew back from the spectacle and I regarded Matilda once more. There were so many words I wished to speak to her, so many stories to share. At least, that was what I wished for when I first saw her. Now, watching her stand in front of me, a broken shell of a woman, there was nothing more I wished to do than to hold her and tell her everything would be alright.

Found it. Found it. Found it…

            Out of the corner of my eye, I saw it. Darkness surrounded me from behind and pressed up against my back like a thick blanket. Only it wasn’t just the darkness, but something living in the shadows. I tried to move, to fight, to run but was unable to even lift a finger. Panic bubbled up from my core and threatened to overtake me just as a soft voice spoke so near to my head.

Hard to find. Not anymore. Found first. Hungry.

            Nothing could describe the pain I was experiencing in that moment. Every nerve in my body cried out as it felt like I was slowly dissolving in a vat of acid. My useless body just standing by the mantle, frozen in space and time. Only my eyes could still move, slowly from one side to another but I could barely concentrate from all the pain. I looked in the only direction that mattered, I looked at Matilda. I pleaded, begged, for her to help ease my suffering through sheer emotion escaping my gaze, but no matter how hard I tried, she couldn’t help me.

No more. No more. No more…

            I tried to concentrate on keeping my gaze fixed on Matilda, to memorize the placement of the furniture in the room, anything to distract me from the pain. As a child I used to hide under the old wicker chair that was now abandoned in the corner of the room, countless hours spent playing with… Who did I used to play with as a child?

            Icy fear surged through my body, mixing and commingling with the continuous feeling of melting heat dissolving me from behind. What is my name? How old am I? Where are my memories? As the last thought crossed my mind I looked out once more towards Matilda. The one that I remember, sweet Matilda.

Time to go. Time to go. Time to go…

            The pain was beginning to subside as the words belonging to the voice echoed through my head. Everything was beginning to fade into the darkness, into nothingness. I concentrated my gaze on Matilda one last time and met her eyes. I was wrong. What I thought was a broken woman was not who stood before me. Deep within her eyes was a spark, a spark of life that truly shone brightly. Matilda would be fine without me.

“You can decide what to do with it.” The lawyer was standing a professional distance away from Matilda.

“I’m sorry?” Matilda slowly blinked, keeping her gaze towards the fireplace.

“Did you miss the reading of the Will Mrs. Davenport?” The lawyer inquired.

Matilda finally forced her gaze to meet the lawyer. That was when she realized the entire room had fallen silent, every single person fixated on their conversation.

“I said you can decide what to do with it, with all of it. You are the sole proprietor of the Last Will and Testament of Ms. Gladys Davenport.” The lawyer held out his briefcase like a small table and handed over a pen.

“Please sign here.” He indicated on the document resting on the briefcase.

Matilda took the pen and signed her name where instructed. No other thoughts went through her mind at that moment. She couldn’t quite believe the situation but somehow, she was not entirely surprised.

“Now then, my job is completed, if you will excuse me.” The lawyer gathered the papers and began walking towards the door before he had even finished returning them to the briefcase.

            Matilda stood alone in the room full of people. It seemed as if a storm was just beyond the horizon, and the calm was about to break. She scanned the faces among the crowd as if to memorize every single one of them. She would never forget their faces. Matilda turned her gaze towards the fireplace once more, took a deep breath in and exhaled.

“My dearest wife this is wonderful news! I have so many plans for this estate!” Ronald was most unusually a deep shade of purple, and miraculously still alive.

“My friend Matilda this house will make a wonderful place to have elaborate tea parties! I can’t wait to see what Gladys kept in her closets!” Rowena had the audacity to squeal in delight.

Everyone began speaking at once, all enthusiastic and joyous on such an occasion. Matilda knew exactly what she needed to do.

“Everyone, may I please have your attention.” Matilda softly spoke to the room.

She turned to face the audience before speaking again.

“I would like to announce that as of this moment, being the sole proprietor of this estate, you are all requested to leave immediately.” She spoke with confidence, and her head held high.

“What?! Matilda what do you mean?!” Ronald sputtered out his words

“This is outrageous!” Rowena hissed.

“You have five minutes to vacate the premises or else the police will be involved, and I am sure no one wishes for that.” Matilda finished addressing the crowd and returned to her original position.

The angry mob loudly slinked out the room in a manner akin to a toddler's temper tantrum incarnate. Thankfully nothing was broken, and several of the employees of Gladys’ estate were more than happy to assist with the removal of such a festering infection. Matilda remained standing in the parlour, her wine glass undrunk and long gone. Colour returned to her complexion as she stared towards the fireplace.

“Mistress is there anything I can get for you?” The young woman who was carrying drinks early asked politely.

“No thank you Jenny I am quite alright at the moment, and please, call me Matilda.” She smiled towards the young woman.

Jenny seemed shocked that her name was so quickly remembered, but she soon softened and turned her gaze away from Matilda and towards the fireplace.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” Jenny smiled at the statement.

Matilda breathed out a long sigh as she turned her gaze once more to the ornate fireplace. Sitting above the mantle was a beautiful portrait encased in a simple yet elegant frame. The portrait had a perfect view of the entire parlour from its position above the fireplace. The young woman in the painting posed beside the mantle to which the portrait was hung above. She wore a beautiful blue dress and had her hair pinned in loose curls. The painter had given her a slight smile placed just perfectly among her delicate features, but the most captivating thing about her was her eyes.

Matilda had been visiting the estate of her aunt Gladys since she was a small child. She would often sit by the fireplace and listen to stories told by her aunt Gladys. She spent many days in the company of the one person who truly loved and acknowledged her. When her aunt Gladys could not accompany her, Matilda would sit quietly in the parlour and read her favourite novels by the fireplace. Many times in the past she would look to the portrait above the fireplace and study the beautiful woman that watched her, looked after her whenever she came over for a visit. The woman who always watched over her; her great aunt Gladys.

“It is so very sad.” Matilda broke her silence. “Something is missing and I do not quite know what it is.”

Jenny tilted her head gently to the right as if thinking over the words spoken by Matilda. She let out a breath and began to walk over to the dishes that had been left on the table. She stopped just shy of the table and looked back at the woman staring at the fireplace.

“Oh, that is strange.” Jenny seemed slightly surprised.

“What is strange?” Matilda inquired.

“Well, you might think this is bizarre.” The young women began. “Everyone who works here was a story to tell about this parlour.” Jenny paused for a moment.

“Sometimes, when you look out of the corner of your eye, you can catch a glimpse of the portrait’s eyes following you,” Jenny spoke in a whispered voice.

“But now, it almost seems as if that painting…” Jenny’s words trailed off.

“It almost seems as if the painting of Aunt Gladys has lost its presence, it's feeling of being alive.” Matilda finished Jenny’s thought.

            Matilda brought her eyes away from Jenny and regarded the fireplace once more. She took a few small steps towards the portrait and finally understood. She could see it clearly, the warmth and life she always felt when she would sit by the fireplace as a child, was gone.

“You were right Jenny; they do not follow you as they once did.” Matilda smiled softly as she attempted to hold her voice from breaking.

“Please excuse me, Ms. Matilda, but are you alright?” Jenny inquired with worry.

“Did you know Jenny? That the eyes are the windows to the soul? What do you think would happen if your soul were to be encased in a painting? In a photograph?” Tears began to fall down Matilda’s cheeks.

“That can’t be possible Mistress!” Jenny was taken aback and reverted to her polite speech.

“It is simply one belief of many that exist my dear. It also happens to be the belief which my Aunt Gladys held most true.” Matilda wiped at her tears and turned towards the door

“I believe she has gone somewhere better, for if there is no belief in what is next for us, there can be only darkness.”