In Search Of Her Own. Carole Page Gift

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       Chapter Five

      Early Saturday morning, Phillip and Victoria drove down the coast to Middleton through a slanting, presummer rain After lunch at a local pancake house, they drove to the Hewletts’ home on Blackberry Street. As Phillip pulled up beside the shingled, Victorian-style house, Victoria emitted an exclamation of dismay. “Oh, Phillip, it looks like one of those frightful haunted houses from a horror movie!”

      The rambling, slate gray house sat back from the street on a steep, grassy incline Beveled crystal windows, dark green shutters and gingerbread-gothic trim gave it a remote, turn-of-the-century aura Even in the mid-afternoon sunlight, it seemed to possess a life of its own, an ominous presence that tightened a knot of foreboding in Victoria’s stomach.

      “Can you believe it, Phillip? To think that this is the home of my child’s grandparents!”

      “Not the most inviting place I’ve ever seen, but no use sitting here letting our imaginations run wild” He pulled the door handle. “Guess we’d better go up to the house and see what’s waiting for us inside”

      “Wait,” said Victoria. “Both of us going may arouse suspicion. Maybe I should go alone “

      “Do you think you can handle it?”

      “I’ve got to, for Joshua’s sake.”

      “Are you going to tell them who you are?”

      “I don’t know. Right now I just want to meet them and see if I can find out something about my son.”

      “They may not take well to a prying stranger.”

      “I won’t pry. I’ll be very subtle.”

      Phillip took her hand and held it for a long moment, his eyes searching hers with a mixture of concern and admiration “You’re quite a courageous young lady, you know that?”

      She flashed a grateful smile. “You really think so?”

      “I know so.”

      “I’ve never considered myself a brave person,” she admitted. “It must be my maternal instincts taking hold. I need to protect my son, whatever the cost”

      He squeezed her hand. “You know I’m in your corner, Victoria.”

      She nodded, a pleasant warmth flushing her cheeks “You don’t know how much that means to me, Phillip. You’re the one who’s given me the courage to look for my son.”

      With obvious reluctance he released her hand. “But if you’re not back here in ten minutes, my brave lady, I’ll come looking for you.”

      “Pray for me,” she murmured as she slipped out of the car.

      “My prayers haven’t got past the ceiling lately, Victoria,” he called after her.

      She looked back at him. “Pray, anyway. My knees are knocking.”

      As she approached the massive door with its arched windows and frosted-glass panes, Victoria noticed a small, hand-lettered sign tucked in the molding- Room For Rent. An idea formed as she knocked soundly. A full minute passed before she heard a scuffling sound inside. As the door swung open, a large-boned woman in a flowered, ill-fitting housedress glared out at her.

      “Yeah?” the woman grunted, her shrewd, hazel eyes narrowing.

      Her brows were thick and unattended; her white, wispy hair was pulled back tightly from her full-lobed ears.

      Victoria squared her shoulders and drew in a sharp breath. “Hello,” she said with a buoyancy she didn’t feel. “I—I’m Victoria Carlin—”

      “So?” the woman interrupted. She stepped back, a beefy hand on her hip as she gazed appraisingly at Victoria. She had a long horse face with sagging cheeks and a rippling neck. “You selling something?”

      “No,” Victoria said quickly. “I—I saw your sign about the room for rent.”

      The woman’s thin lips twisted into a smile. “You’re looking for a room? Why didn’t you say so?”

      Victoria chose her words carefully. “I’m very interested in finding just the right place.”

      “Well, I’ll tell you right up front I’m very particular,” said the woman. “I just put the sign up a few days ago, and I already turned down a couple of drifters I don’t take kindly to strangers in my house, but with times so bad and the pittance we get from Social Security—well, a body has to pay the bills somehow, and my Sam can’t work anymore with his lame back.”

      “I know how it is,” said Victoria with genuine sympathy. “It’s very hard to make ends meet these days.”

      “And getting harder all the time,” said Maude. “Anyways, you look like a decent sort. Come on in.” She held out her hand. “I’m Maude Hewlett.”

      Victoria shook the woman’s hand, then followed her into the dimly lit living room with its antique cherry wood furniture. The heavy drapes were closed, and the flower-print walls were cluttered with primitive paintings and knickknack shelves. Scattered randomly were several artificial plants and wicker baskets overflowing with yarn.

      “The room is fifty dollars a week,” said Maude. “Twenty more for meals. I want references and a month’s rent in advance.”

      “I’m really not sure I…” Victoria began. She looked around, flustered. The television set was on, distracting her—a game show blaring with overeager contestants laughing, clapping, СКАЧАТЬ