When I got home, I dropped my satchel in my room and changed out of my school dress and into something a little more comfortable.

The house felt empty with Mrs Smith, Mary and Helen all down in the kitchen and me having free reign of the rest of the house since Mother and Father weren't home. I couldn't remember a time when I had the opportunity to do almost whatever I pleased without getting into trouble or having anyone nearby. With several hours to go until either Mother and Father returned or for me to go to bed, I had to find ways to amuse myself and that turned out to be easier said than done.

With so many rooms in Grandfather's house, I decided I wanted to explore them since there were a few I had yet to set foot in and ones no one would allow me to enter. Some of the additional rooms upstairs were just old bedrooms that were no longer in use and hadn't been for some time. None of the beds had anything on them and the wardrobes were empty but someone had taken the liberty to open all of the windows and keep the rooms dust free just in case they were used again in the future.

Some rooms had been piled high with broken or unwanted objects including old toys that must have belonged to my aunt and uncle. It was like a treasure chest from the past. I stepped out into the hallway and moved along the hall in search of another room to go through, but the only rooms left to look through were Mother and Father's bedroom and Grandfather's room. No one had gone in there since he died.

"What are you up to?" Mrs Smith asked, appearing at the top of the stairs with the laundry basket resting on her hip.

"Trying to amuse myself."

"Is it working?"

"I'm not too sure yet."

Mrs Smith laughed. "Well, if you're stuck for things to do, you could always clean your bedroom."

"That's a last resort. It always will be."

"Don't go getting yourself into any trouble then."

"Me? Trouble? Never!"

She laughed and moved into Mother and Father's room to collect their laundry. I stood in the hallway and waited for her to move downstairs, the laundry basket now full. Once her footsteps had disappeared completely, I twisted the door handle and stepped into Grandfather's room for the first time in weeks.

The window had been propped open, but I don't know if someone else did that or Grandfather. It looked like the room had been dusted recently which meant that whilst we had all been avoiding the room and avoiding sorting through his things, someone had been going in to dust everything off. The familiar feeling of anger started to rise inside me and the thought of someone else being in Grandfather's room, touching his things, but I swallowed it down and closed the door behind me.

Everything in his room was right where it should have been and as he left it on the day he left for Ireland all those weeks ago. The bed had been freshly made, the stack of books on his nightstand straightened, although the very top one was missing because he took it with him when he left. His old jacket has been draped over the back of the chair that sat at his writing desk. It all looked like a photograph, an image that hadn't changed for months.

I sighed and slowly backed out of the room without touching anything. The last thing I wanted to do was disrupt the order of everything in Grandfather's room. I decided it would be better to leave Mother and Father's room alone rather than go in there and accidentally disrupt something. Instead, I walked down the hall and down the stairs, running my hand along the bannister. Part of me wanted to run back upstairs and then slide down the bannister but I knew I would probably slide off and hurt myself.

Someone knocked at the door and with Mrs Smith no doubt busy with the laundry and Mary and Helen completing their afternoon chores, I opted to open the door myself. I opened the door and almost ended up closing it again at the sight of Aunt Matilda standing in the doorway.

"Are you parents here?" she asked, bypassing the usual greetings.

"No, Father got called into work and Mother went with him," I said. "Can I help with something?"

"I need to take a look around, to decide just what we might have to change when we move in."

"I suppose you could still do that."

"Perfect." She brushed past me. "Those paintings are going to have to go."

"My mother painted those," I muttered.

"Exactly."

"Why don't I go and ask for some tea?"

"That's the smartest thing I have heard you say."

I resisted the temptation to roll my eyes along with the temptation to just kick her out of the house, although I doubt she would listen to me. She continued to peruse the entranceway, making the occasional comment on the decor as I slipped through a side down and down a set of stairs that led to the kitchen. Mr Smith, who must have finished the laundry, looked up when she saw me coming and furrowed her eyebrows.

"To what do we own the pleasure of your visit? Did you break something?"

"Aunt Matilda's upstairs. I didn't know what else to do so I let her in."

"Probably for the best since I doubt she would take too kindly to being denied entry." She paused. "You can go back upstairs and I will put on some tea, one of the girls can bring it up for you when it's ready."

"Alright, thank you."

"Please keep your temper, Isabel. For your own sake."

I nodded in agreement, but I knew deep down that I would have trouble keeping my temper under control in check if Aunt Matilda started to spout lies or was just rude about Mother and Father. Mrs Smith busied herself with preparing a tray for the tea and I slipped back up the stairs to the hall.

Aunt Matilda had moved on to the drawing-room and I joined her, standing just off to the side and watching her sweep across the room with the occasional muttering to herself. She looked at the portrait of Grandfather and made some comment about how it would have to go. I closed my eyes and took a shaky breath to try and get the anger rising in my chest under a little more control so I didn't end up doing something I would regret. I hoped she wouldn't be staying for too long, I didn't think I could keep myself calm for very long.

She moved through into the parlour, her mouth moving as she spoke to herself about what would need changing once she and Grandmother took ownership of the building. From what I overheard, it sounded like they planned on changing every aspect of the house, from the walls to the flooring. Aunt Matilda made comments about all of the paintings on the walls, most of them done by Mother, and the family photographs that Grandfather kept on the mantle. If they didn't want them, I hoped we could take them.

"Why on earth do so many of the cushions have frogs on them?" Aunt Matilda gestured to the cushions placed on various chairs around the room.

"I made them. Grandfather liked them so he put them out," I said.

"And why the frogs?"

"I like frogs."

Aunt Matilda pulled a face of disgust. "You're just as odd as your mother."

Before I could say anything, Helen walked in with a silver tea tray weighed down with two steaming mugs of tea and a plate of shortbread biscuits. I appreciated her timing and took a biscuit from the tray the moment it was placed on the table just so I had something to distract myself from talking. Aunt Matilda didn't take any of the biscuits and continued to walk around the room for the fifth time, continuing to mutter to herself.

I could feel the anger rising inside me as she continued to comment on the smallest things including every little dent or scratch on the mantle or the table. All she did was poke fault at anything she could find and would take any opportunity she possibly could to insult either Mother and Father or Grandfather, none of whom were in the room to defend themselves. It felt like my duty to stand up for them but Mrs Smith's words immediately came to mind and I had to bite back my comments.

It didn't feel right that Aunt Matilda could come swanning into the house as bold as brass and insult a man who had only recently died. Not only that, but go through every inch of his house and decide that it all needed to be replaced. Nothing of Grandfathers would remain in the house once they had taken over the estate and that didn't feel right. That wasn't what Grandfather would have wanted as time went on, I began to wonder just how real that will had been.

None of us had wanted to believe that Grandfather would have given his entire estate to his estranged wife and daughter, but Uncle Christopher could find nothing wrong with the will nor any grounds to assume anything suspicious. For that reason, everyone had just accepted that there was nothing to be done about it and that the will must have been genuine. Yet, I had the doubt plaguing the back of my mind that the will everyone had heard wasn't the one Grandfather intended upon being read. It made no sense.

"I take it I can look upstairs?" Aunt Matilda asked.

"Yes," I said, drinking the entire cup of scalding hot tea in one go. At least if my mouth was burning, I wouldn't be able to talk as much.

"Excellent. I expect there is a lot of work that will need doing up there."

"If you say so," I mumbled. Aunt Matilda looked at me but said nothing.

I followed her out of the parlour and up the stairs where Aunt Matilda continued to comment on anything she could find. From the small ridges in the bannister that had been there for a very long time to a singular cobweb handing from one of the light fixtures, she commented on all of it. She started checking inside the rooms, starting from one of the rooms piled high with broken and discarded objects. Upon seeing it, she clicked her tongue and quickly shut the door. Aunt Matilda moved towards my room and I was somewhat glad I hadn't taken up Mrs Smith's suggestion to clean it.

"This used to be my room," Aunt Matilda said when she opened the door. "I take it, it's yours now?"

"When we stay here, yes. It has the best view of the grounds."

"I just chose it because it was bigger than Roberts." She closed the door without another word or snide comment.

We moved further down the hallway, with Aunt Matilda looking in the empty rooms and continuing on with her comments. It almost felt like a mantra, a list of things to remember so she could report back to Grandmother. I felt my blood starting to boil with every snide comment and the anger rise, but I bit it back as best I could. I hoped she would leave once all the rooms had been checked, I didn't think I could take much more of the snide comments.

After searching most of the rooms, the only ones left to check were Mother and Fathers and Grandfather's room which I refused to let Aunt Matilda see. She could see it once we had emptied it of all his things, but she had been estranged for a reason and I refused to let her anywhere near his things. When she went to grab the door handle, I stepped in.

"You can't go into that room," I said.

"And why ever not?"

"It's Grandfather's room. No one has been in there other than the staff since he died," I lied, not wanting to give away that I had been in there just a short time before.

"Then perhaps it is time someone did. After all, it is not his room anymore." She reached out to grab the handle but I slid in between her and the door, the handle digging into my back.

"It's still his room and it will be until we move out."

"You are exactly like your mother. Getting in the way of things all the time and just being a general annoyance. Now, let me into that room."

Before I could even register what was going on, my hands were on Aunt Matilda's shoulders and I shoved her backwards. She stumbled but managed to maintain her balance. Her eyes narrowed and she pressed her lips into a thin line, I went to try and back up before I remember I had nowhere else to go. Aunt Matilda stepped forward and placed her hands on my shoulder, copying my actions and pushing me backwards, only I fell against the door handle rather than into an open hallway. Pain flared through my back and my eyes started to water.

"That is enough of that, Ma'am. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave the premises. Immediately," Mrs Smith said from the other side of the hall.

"You cannot tell me what to do, this is my house!"

"Not yet it isn't. Now, please remove yourself from the premises or I will send for the Constable."

Aunt Matilda huffed and stalked off down the hallway, leaving me standing up against the door. My hands shook and my chest heaved but it had nothing to do with the pain in my back and everything to do with the amount of rage coursing through my body. It almost helped to numb the pain in my back. Once the front door had been closed, Mrs Smith approached me, but she didn't make a comment on my actions.

"Let's get some ice for that back," was all she said.

~~~

A/N - We are back! Also, as an update, I got stuck on the prequel once again and have decided that it will not be happening. I just really struggle writing it. Sorry guys. However, we do have some of my favourite chapters coming up for Will and Testament so I hope you're ready!

Questions! Was Isabel right to block Matilda? What do you think Matilda is up to? Do you think Isabel is right about the will?

Comment below!

First Published - July 28th, 2021