The Sunshine Room.The room stretched across the full length of the house. Mallory discovered it accidentally while familiarising herself with a totally new and unexplored territory. She had opened a tall wooden door, expecting to find some sort of storage cupboard. A place to stash the vacuum and bottles of disinfectant. A cupboard lined with wooden shelves, handy for neatly squirreling dusters and wipes away out of sight. But instead, she found a narrow flight of uncarpeted stairs, twisting up into the shadows. Having satisfied herself there was no hidden mechanism that might lock the door behind her, Mallory climbed the stairs, assuming that she would probably end up in the loft, or some kind of attic full of unwanted junk and old furniture. The staircase ended at a second door, which had no handle or lock. And no discernable means of entry. Mallory ran her hands over the smooth grained surface. The wood felt warm to the touch. And to her surprise, the door swung open as if inviting her to enter. Stepping hesitantly across the threshold, she gasped with delight. Floor to ceiling windows at either end, and a skylight above, flooded the room with an intense light that made her squint. The floor consisted of roughly planed boards. And the pale plastered walls were buffed to a high sheen. The windows at the front of the house, overlooked the well tended lawns and flowerbeds of its own and the neighbouring properties. Mallory could see tiled roof tops glinting red in the afternoon sun, and beyond them, gently rolling hills dotted with dark green firs. The windows at the back looked out onto wild meadows. Uncultivated flowers bloomed in profusion under the cloudless sky. And far off she could just make out the thin silver ribbon of a river. The windows and skylight, ensured that the room was perpetually bathed in sunshine. And she wondered who had created such a magical space. Surely it must have been originally designed as an artists studio. Or perhaps a nursery? Although the stairs didn't lend themselves to children clambering about on them. And unless there was a baby alarm, nobody would be able to hear the cries of a restless infant behind the rooms two sturdy doors. Mallory gasped as the sudden pain of loss rippled through her body. It still came upon her, this unbidden memory of grief. Sometimes a phrase, or the lyrics of a song. Sometimes a fleeting glimpse of what might have been. Then her heart would ache with longing, and her arms would feel heavy and empty. Standing in the room, her emotions seemed to intensify, as though she had spun through the revolving doors of perception, and had been admitted to a place of endless tragic dreams. They had married far too young. Their expectations of each other coloured by romance and infatuation. Both of them had been in love with love. Their relationship had no use for practicalities and realism. It was all hearts and flowers. Mallory had been enchanted by her young husband. And he with her. They were children playing a game. But as domesticity wove its strands around them, she found it impossible to remain in a one dimensual relationship. She grew up, but her lover husband didn't. He remained a Peter Pan. And when she became pregnant, unable to cope with the responsibility, he fled, looking for his Never Never Land of eternal youth. Despite the warmth, Mallory shivered. She hadn't thought about Billy for a long time. The loss of the child, superceded any charitable forgiveness she might have felt for his cruel abandonment of them both. She was certain that his desertion caused her loss. That the tiny life growing inside her had somehow sensed that rejection. Mallory felt the raw resentment again, as though it was yesterday. Her love alone hadn't been enough to nurture the child. And that hurt her more than she could bear.Shutting the doors behind her, Mallory went back downstairs. She mustn't dwell on the past. This was by way of a new beginning for her. As a housekeeper to an elderly lady, the job appealed to her on many levels. It was good money. She had independent accommodation. The hours weren't too onerous. And the staff who came in daily, did most of the heavy work. Having unexpectedly come across the room at the top of the house, Mallory decided to ask her employer if she could utilise it as a studio. It didn't seem to be used for anything in particular. And the light made it perfect for painting. She could get her easel and other equipment out of storage, and spend her leisure hours up there. The views were spectacular. And if she was lucky, there might even be one or two commissions. Humming cheerfully, she heard the grandfather clock in the hall, strike the hour. So banning Billy from her mind, Mallory hurried down the wide staircase, and made her way to the kitchen with all its mod-cons. Time to start preparing the old ladies afternoon tea. A brand new sparkling future was beckoning. And despite the ghosts of her past making a good dec
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