There had been times when I’d wished for a closer relationship with her, but I was shy, and Olivia, while kind and generous, had been as emotionally distant with me as she was with Press. How strange it must have been for the two of them, living in Bliss House all those years together. If Press had been closer to her, I suspect I might have felt more encouraged. They were always polite but distant with each other, as though she were a fond aunt and he a dutiful nephew.
It made me happy that she had seemed to want to be closer to Eva. That past spring, she’d begun to let Eva occasionally come into the morning room when she was having her late-morning tea. I had looked across the hall one morning to see Eva tapping politely on the morning-room door, waiting until Olivia answered. Had Olivia shown her the toys in the closet? Eva had never said, but I knew that if I had been the inquisitive four-year-old my daughter was, I couldn’t have resisted asking what was behind the door. I’m certain she would’ve been frightened of the hideous taxidermy animals. I should have asked Press if he knew where they’d come from, but I never did.
With the windows open, the room quickly turned humid. October rain didn’t yet mean it was cold outside. Still, it was pleasant—particularly during that time of day, before the sun bled through the windows. I decided that if the room were ever to be mine, I would have to change it. The wallpaper and the paintings felt oppressive. Yet even though I felt watched, overwhelmed, I also felt a sense of belonging. All those years, I’d been an outsider in Olivia’s small world, and now it was my world. It felt right that Eva had spent time there too.
But what I’d come into the room for was not in the room itself, but in the closet.
I had opened the windows and looked outside. I had looked at the portraits. I had thought much about my daughter and the former owner of the room. Why was I hesitating? I knew the thing that waited for me in the closet was important. Olivia had meant for me to find it. I didn’t know what was under the drape, but when I’d touched it, a kind of current had run through my body. Yes, Olivia had meant for me to find it.
Despite the dustiness of the articles on the shelves, the fitted drape was pristine. I lifted it away, folded it, and carefully put it aside. A small brass plaque on the side of the antique projector I’d revealed read PALMER’S MAGIC LANTERN.
Terrance removed a table lamp and a set of porcelain dogs from a small drop-leaf table that was against the wall, and set them on the desk.
“Mrs. Olivia Bliss liked to use the lantern in the evening sometimes. I’m sorry to say that we no longer have the screen, Miss Charlotte, but I can hang a sheet on the wall for you.”
“Where did the slides come from? There are so many.” I stood in the open doorway of the closet, looking at the boxes. Like the lantern itself, the individual boxes were heavy, but the boxes weren’t so heavy that I couldn’t carry them myself. I lifted one from the shelf.
“Family, I believe.” That was the only answer I got from him.
He moved the table into the middle of the room and took down the paintings from the facing wall. Despite his slenderness and age, he didn’t struggle at all with the projector in the way that I had. I could only lift it an inch from the floor. As he carried it to the table, I stayed near him, my arms held out in a pantomime of helpfulness. When it was settled, he breathed forcefully—it might have been a sigh. I wasn’t sure.
“Shall I put the sheet up for you tonight, Miss Charlotte?”
I glanced wistfully at the tall windows. It hadn’t gotten any grayer outside, but then it wasn’t turning sunny, either.
“I can put it up right away if you like. The curtains can be closed.”
While I usually tried not to be any more trouble than I needed to be, my desire to see the slides overrode any thoughts of Terrance’s inconvenience. He did, after all, work for me. I smiled.
“I’d like that, thank you. Will you show me how to use it?”
Chapter 11
Another World