prepared to carry through with his threat and throw the chair out. And it would be nice to have somewhere comfortable to sit. And it’s a nice pattern, too… “Fine, leave it. But don’t think I’m happy about this.”
“Love you too.” Neil pecked her cheek before she could bat him away. Mara failed to contain her grin.
“Now, is there anything I can help you with, or would you like me to start patching holes?”
“Holes, please. I’m going to clear out one of the upstairs bedrooms.” Mara felt an unpleasant lurch as she remembered the writing on the upstairs wall. He’s going to find out about it one way or another; he’ll cope better if he hears it from me. “I got the wallpaper out of our room, and there’s a bunch of graffiti underneath it.”
“What sort of graffiti?” Neil had fished a pair of gloves out of his back pocket and was pulling them on.
“Eh… mostly gibberish.”
He glanced at her, and his eyes narrowed. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing important.” Mara beamed at him, but that only deepened Neil’s frown. He abandoned the box and climbed the stairs. She sighed and followed close behind.
“Cripes,” Neil breathed as he read the message. “Who wrote this?”
Mara threaded her arm through his. “My guess is a vandal. This place was notorious for being haunted, yeah? I’ll bet some kid came in during one of its vacant phases and painted that message over the wall to enhance the atmosphere. The next owners obviously didn’t appreciate it, but they couldn’t afford to remove the wood, so they put wallpaper over it instead.”
Neil squeezed her hand. “Move to a different room. One with bare walls.”
“Will do, boss.”
Mara searched through the upstairs while Neil began work below. The remaining empty rooms all had broken windows, so she eventually settled on a furnished room with intact panes. It would be a lot of work to clear the furniture out, but she decided she’d eventually need to do that either way.
Her new room also faced the backyard. It must have had a blue theme, but the bedspread and curtains were all badly faded. Mara bundled the loose cloths into a bag then worked the mattress off its frame. She’d dragged it halfway down the stairs before Neil noticed and ran to help her. “Don’t put your back out,” he said, pulling the mattress out of her hands.
“My back’s fine, but thank you.”
Neil threw the mattress onto the porch where they wouldn’t trip over it, then Mara followed him into the dining room and whistled at the sight of the enlarged hole in the wall.
“It’s not as bad as it looks.” Neil took up the crowbar and began working another damaged plank free. “I’ll have this one done before I go home tonight. It won’t match the other wood, I’m afraid—there’s no way to fake the super-old aesthetic you’ve got going on—but you can stain it a similar shade.”
“I’ll be happy as long as it looks more like the before photo of the Titanic rather than the after .”
Neil snorted and turned back to his work. Mara squeezed his shoulder on the way past and returned upstairs.
Deciding what furnishings should stay and what should go was difficult. Once the organic, decayed items—the rugs, curtains, and mattress—were gone, Mara examined the wooden bed frame, wardrobe, and bureau. To her surprise, the latter two were empty and solid. The bed, on the other hand, had suffered from its burden. The mattress had become wet at some point and rotted through several of the slats. She kicked at one of them, and it snapped. This is definitely older than twenty years, and it was probably a cheap bed when it was bought, too.
It wouldn’t fit through the doorway whole. Mara tried to prise it apart, but the wood had fused together. Grumbling, she returned downstairs.
Neil had worked quickly. The damaged part of the wall had been removed, exposing the support beams, and he’d moved on to measuring cut marks on the fresh
“Love you too.” Neil pecked her cheek before she could bat him away. Mara failed to contain her grin.
“Now, is there anything I can help you with, or would you like me to start patching holes?”
“Holes, please. I’m going to clear out one of the upstairs bedrooms.” Mara felt an unpleasant lurch as she remembered the writing on the upstairs wall. He’s going to find out about it one way or another; he’ll cope better if he hears it from me. “I got the wallpaper out of our room, and there’s a bunch of graffiti underneath it.”
“What sort of graffiti?” Neil had fished a pair of gloves out of his back pocket and was pulling them on.
“Eh… mostly gibberish.”
He glanced at her, and his eyes narrowed. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing important.” Mara beamed at him, but that only deepened Neil’s frown. He abandoned the box and climbed the stairs. She sighed and followed close behind.
“Cripes,” Neil breathed as he read the message. “Who wrote this?”
Mara threaded her arm through his. “My guess is a vandal. This place was notorious for being haunted, yeah? I’ll bet some kid came in during one of its vacant phases and painted that message over the wall to enhance the atmosphere. The next owners obviously didn’t appreciate it, but they couldn’t afford to remove the wood, so they put wallpaper over it instead.”
Neil squeezed her hand. “Move to a different room. One with bare walls.”
“Will do, boss.”
Mara searched through the upstairs while Neil began work below. The remaining empty rooms all had broken windows, so she eventually settled on a furnished room with intact panes. It would be a lot of work to clear the furniture out, but she decided she’d eventually need to do that either way.
Her new room also faced the backyard. It must have had a blue theme, but the bedspread and curtains were all badly faded. Mara bundled the loose cloths into a bag then worked the mattress off its frame. She’d dragged it halfway down the stairs before Neil noticed and ran to help her. “Don’t put your back out,” he said, pulling the mattress out of her hands.
“My back’s fine, but thank you.”
Neil threw the mattress onto the porch where they wouldn’t trip over it, then Mara followed him into the dining room and whistled at the sight of the enlarged hole in the wall.
“It’s not as bad as it looks.” Neil took up the crowbar and began working another damaged plank free. “I’ll have this one done before I go home tonight. It won’t match the other wood, I’m afraid—there’s no way to fake the super-old aesthetic you’ve got going on—but you can stain it a similar shade.”
“I’ll be happy as long as it looks more like the before photo of the Titanic rather than the after .”
Neil snorted and turned back to his work. Mara squeezed his shoulder on the way past and returned upstairs.
Deciding what furnishings should stay and what should go was difficult. Once the organic, decayed items—the rugs, curtains, and mattress—were gone, Mara examined the wooden bed frame, wardrobe, and bureau. To her surprise, the latter two were empty and solid. The bed, on the other hand, had suffered from its burden. The mattress had become wet at some point and rotted through several of the slats. She kicked at one of them, and it snapped. This is definitely older than twenty years, and it was probably a cheap bed when it was bought, too.
It wouldn’t fit through the doorway whole. Mara tried to prise it apart, but the wood had fused together. Grumbling, she returned downstairs.
Neil had worked quickly. The damaged part of the wall had been removed, exposing the support beams, and he’d moved on to measuring cut marks on the fresh
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