The Curse.

The House

As I turned away from the view of the room below me, I noticed three doors leading off the landing. The first lead into a minature library, the second (which I found to be locked), and the third had a stairway leading into an attic. I closed each door as I left each room quite amazed about the layout of the house and in a sheer stupor over the size of the rooms i had just seen.

I made my way back along the landing, back under the arch and across the landing to the right-hand side of the upper portion of the house, walking down a short hall, which had four doors leading from it.

The first revealed quite a large bedroom, which was the master bedroom, and found there was also an en-suite bathroom and also built-in wardrobes.

The second I found was an impressive sized linen closet. The third revealed another bedroom, not much smaller than the first but also with an en-suite and built-in wardrobes.

Looking at these rooms, I hadn't given a second thought to look out of any windows. I had just assumed that there would be a back garden. But I had decided to save that til last.

The fourth door led into a small room, which could be used as another bedroom or something else. But I couldn't for the life of think what it could be used for. Again, I closed all the doors behind me as I left each room reeling from the shock of it all.

Well, that was the upstairs taken care of. Now for downstairs. I made my way down to have a look at the kitchen, dining room, and living room.

When I got downstairs, I apparently walked past Dad and into the living room in a daze. So he told me later. But the first thing i noticed again was the fireplace, but now I could see that the room also had central heating.

The dining room ws also central heated. It, too, had a large fireplace, but this one was more modern, not as ornate, tiled instead of carved, small for such a large room.

I walked out of the dining room and into the kitchen. When I walked through the kitchen door, I found that the kitchen was....(How shall I word it?) huge, long, and wide, tiled all around, the floor included. It was more victorian than modern. This room looked as though it belonged in a museum rather than this house. There was only one thing it had going for it. The cooker.

Praise be to the gods! It was an aga. Something I knew how to use to cook. Boy! Did the sight of that suddenly make me feel right at home.

I found Dad sitting on the doorstep looking out over the back garden. I guessed that it measured at least an acre/acre and a half.

I sat down rather hard next to him.

"So what do you think?" He asked without looking at me.

"I don't know what to think. It's a great house. It'll take some getting used to, I guess. I just can't believe that we own it."

"I told you that you would like it. Just think, what we could do with this garden. I could be happy here. What about you? I meant what I said about you gaining a decent education. The college is only down the road, in the town centre and it's about time you made a few friends instead of hanging around with an old bird like me."

"We can do a lot with the garden, I agree, but as for hanging around with an old bird like you, you are my best friend, Dad. As for college, can't I put it off for a year or two just while we sort this huge house out? I kind of get it as we want it?"

"Just for a year, no longer. After all I do want you to have a better life than I ever had."

It only took us only a week to pack up our personal belongings, as Dad had explained to me on the way back to the farm that he had donated most of ur furniture to various charities, as he had bought all brand new furniture.

While Dad explained all this to me as we drove back to an empty farm which was full of memories for the both of us. Some good, some bad.

I stopped listening to Dad at some point during that journey and sat silent as memory after memory assailed my senses. There are too many to mention but there are a couple that I haven't recalled in years, that I should tell you about: such as when Mum was with us, my favourite time of day was storytime. She used to act out stories like: pirates having adventures, knights in shining armour fighting fierce battles with armies from unknown lands.

Another one was riding n the tractor with Dad, him telling me in his own way how it worked and what he used it for.

I smile as I remember the very first time that I drove it on my own. I was nine years and three months old, Mum and Dad were standing in the yard, watching me. I must admit I was scared out of my wits! I was telling myself over and over "I can do this. I can do this, Ok, here I go"

I started the tractor up and engaged what I thought was reverse. Boy, was I wrong! Then I slowly pressed the accelerator. All I was supposed to do was back the tractor out of the barn, where Dad kept it. Well, what happened was, I shot straight through the opposite wall and straight into the manure pile!

In my nervous state I had engaged third gear not reverse, Mum had screamed and Dad had called me a few names and told me that I was definately helping him dig the tractor out.

I glanced at Dad and found he had stopped talking but had a puzzled look on his face.

"Do you remember the manure incident Dad?"

He looked at me in a strange way and said

"How can I ever forget?"

We both laughed as memories and couple of miles flew by and also talked about Dads plans for the garden. But there was one memory that we both shared but dared not talk about: The day Mum died.

It was supposed to be the best day of our lives, I had just turned ten years old a couple of days before.

Mum had sat me down nad told me that she was having another baby a month after the tractor incident and I couldn't wait to become a big brother, I was counting down the days. Cuddling upto her and stroking her tummy, talking to the bump.

Until one afternoon Dad and me were crossing the yard when we both looked up and saw the doctors car parked outside our front door, we looked at each other, and turned as one and started to run towards the house as we reached the open front door we both heard Mum moaning.

Dad told me to wait outside, which I did, wandering round the yard, wondering what was happening. It could have been hours or minutes (I don't know) before I heard a god awful sound coming from the house, I had run inide the house knowing it was my Dad that was making that noise.

I found him kneeling on the floor with Mum in his arms, rocking her, wailing at the top of his lungs. I found that I couldn't make at sound or produce any tears but I knew in my heart that Mum was gone.

God, that day seems like an eternity ago but I remember Dad went through each day in a daze, the nights were the worst for him I think, I don't know as he has never spoken about it.

But it must have shown on my face because suddenly Dad looked at me and said:

"The baby was breach, sideways, there was no way of knowing, as it seemed your Mum never once went to the doctors or the hospital to have it checked over, if she had..."

He left the sentence hanging in the air.

"They would still be here and not in the cemetary." I finished for him.

"I know. I just hope that I have done everything right by you that she would have expected from me."

"Dad. You have done Mum proud over the years and I'm proud to be your son."

"Thank you. Michael. Now lets get in and started packing as the new furniture is arriving on Monday and I want to be there when it does."

"Ok Dad." Was my reply as we stepped out of the van that Dad had hired whilst we were in town.