Read Online The Room Beyond by Stephanie Elmas - Free Book Online Page A

hand, stroking it repeatedly as if she were a pampered cat.
    It made her smile and his face immediately turned into a soft sponge
of relief; a spark of his old self already glinting in his eyes. And suddenly
they were back at the theatre again, ten years younger, she waiting for him
backstage whilst the crowd roared on. Ready to dance all night long at the
after-show party.
    But then two blue eyes suddenly blinked back at her, as if from
nowhere, sending a deep, dangerous thrill up her spine. You smell of ripe
peaches . The words washed over her again like treacle.
    She freed her hand from Alfonso’s clasp.
    ‘I have a lover.’
    He started, his eyes round and huge. ‘Who?’
    ‘The man next door, Tristan Whitestone.’
    ‘I... I could tell his wife this moment,’ he spluttered. He clutched
at his shirt collar.
    ‘Do whatever you like, it doesn’t bother me.’
    ‘He will never leave his wife for you, they are decent people.’
    ‘And we aren’t?’
    ‘We come from a different world!’
    ‘No, you come from a different world which I have nothing to do with
anymore. You’ve had your pleasure and now you want Lucinda back. Well you can
go to hell. You’re a self-proclaimed fool. I have a beautiful man in my bed now
and I wouldn’t take you back for all the money in the world. Now get out of my
house, take your slut with you and never, under any circumstance, visit me
again.’
     
    When the sound of the departing carriage had finally melted away, she
ripped the amber scarf from her hair, tearing it to shreds as she flew back up
to her room. The tears poured out relentlessly; her pillow and even her dress
were soon drenched.
    And yet all the time, as the tears kept flooding out of her, she
could hear something in her distant mind, a child’s voice imploring her to stop.
    ‘I’ll try,’ she told it eventually, biting at the pillow. ‘Who are
you?’
    But the voice disappeared and she was left alone again.
    When at last she knew that she couldn’t cry any longer she changed
her dress, smoothed her hair and checked her face.
    ‘Sarah, are you back? I’m going out now!’ she called.
    She raced downstairs and scribbled the word NOW across a
piece of paper, addressing it to Mr Tristan Whitestone, The Whitestone
Shipping Company, Bolter’s Way .
    Sarah came bustling in with her things.
    ‘Quickly please. I have an extremely urgent letter to deliver,’ she
told the maid, glancing at herself in the mirror just one more time. Her eyes
were resolute, her chin a little raised. ‘And I’ll buy a new hat whilst I’m at
it.’

 
    Serena’s Story
     
    ‘You’re invited to dine with the family tonight.’
    Gladys was pounding a spoon into a beige substance in a metal bowl. I
raised my chin a little to try and see what it was but she suddenly spun round
to attend to something in a pan at the same time.
    I allowed my jaw to drop behind her turned back. The kitchen
appeared to be heaving under the weight of its production: pans frothed and
sizzled on the rings of two separate ovens, the work surfaces overflowed with
vegetable laden chopping boards and clusters of ingredients, nestled by yet
more bowls, ramekins and saucepans, patiently awaited their turn. It felt more
like the kitchen of a smart restaurant than a family home.
    ‘Is it going to be a large dinner party?’
    ‘No.’ She turned the metal bowl out onto a baking tray and a large
mushroom of dough appeared. ‘Just the family.’
    I retreated to my room to get changed, although my sketchbook found
me first. I began trying to recreate the view from my window, just as I’d
intended, but for some reason my pencil wasn’t behaving itself and I tore the
page off, scrunching it up into a tight ball before hurling it into the bin.
    I began to scribble again on the next page, thinking about what to
put on. Did the Hartreves dress for dinner? The scribble started to take shape,
my hand now moving effortlessly across the page. Within a few short minutes I
had