© 2002 by Alessandra Azzaroni aazzaroni@hotmail.com http://au.geocities.com/vcastairwaytoheaven/index.htm

STORY LAST UPDATED ON 01/07/2002

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Written in Australia. This story was partly inspired by Flowers in the Attic.

CHAPTER TWO: ARRIVAL

In the arrivals' lounge of the airport, an elegant-looking man held up a card with 'Grey' written on it. Hoping that it wasn't too common a last name, I went over to the tall, grey-haired man. "Hello, I'm Sassandra Grey."
He nodded. "Yes, miss, yer grandparents are expectin' ye. Let's get yer bags now." He held out his hand. "I be Fergus Flynn, te manager of te estate." His voice carried a distinct Irish accent.
I shook his hand. "Estate?"
"I be explainin' it to ye soon. Yer bags, miss."
I followed him to the luggage terminal, and we picked out my pieces. As I did so, I wondered what Willa was doing. And I'd never find out, for I didn't have her address, and I expected her not to have mine.
Once settled in the comfortable, black, German-built vehicle, Fergus started explaining things to me. "We be goin' to Flintoff Vale. Just a half-hour drive, so ye can nap if ye wish to."
"Oh, could you possibly tell me anything about my grandparents?"
"Ah, sure I can." Looking in the car's mirror, I could see a characteristic sunny disposition. "Yer grandparents are wealty. Tey inherited, but he invested it. Viviana Grey be a bit strict, but she gets tings done. And Jonas Carlsson be a quiet one, but he loved his daughters."
I found something strange about that last sentence. "If Jonas Carlsson is my grandfather, why do I have the surname Grey?"
"Ah, te lady of te manor, yer grandmother Viviana, wanted to keep te Grey name in te family. Jonas agreed."
"Is Viviana kind of… dominating?"
Fergus winked. "I not be one to say, miss. Ye be findin' out for yerself soon enough."

Somewhere between there and Flintoff Vale, I fell asleep. I woke up to look outside the window, where Fergus was driving the car around a circular driveway, and coming to a halt in front of a two-storey brown-bricked house, with an attic. What it lacked in height, it spread out in width and length.
"So is this the estate?" I asked.
"Ye be correct, miss. It may be fancy and rich on te outside, but inside it be not so glamorous. Noting out of te ordinary about it. No antiques. Yer standard home, but larger, ye'll see," Fergus answered.
I opened my door, and helped Fergus with my bags, before starting up the walkway.
"Wait, miss!" I turned around. "Before we go in, there be tings you need to know."
Like anyone else in my position, I was curious. "Tell me, then, Fergus."
He reached to scratch the back of his neck. "Yer grandparents are rich, but tey won't treat ye te same."
"Well, I don't expect them to. It's our first meeting."
"Miss, te man and lady of te manor shared teir wealt wit teir daughters. But… tings changed and tey were hard on teir daughters. Well, maybe just te lady was," he said as an afterthought. "Tey be hard wit ye, too."
I furrowed my eyebrows in thought. "What do you mean, 'hard on their daughters'?"
Fergus shook his head. "I have an inklin', but I not share it wit ye, miss. I have a job to keep." He changed the subject. "We be goin' inside now."
I followed him up the stone walkway. He turned the brass handle, and opened the front door. Inside, it was indeed large, and the design was beautiful. But the furnishings and… aura of the house just seemed cold.
To the right was a staircase, leading to the second floor. I followed Fergus up it, and then he stopped at the last door. He turned the door handle, and I followed him inside.
Despite the size of the house, this bedroom was not bigger than my room in the Estorils' house. If anything, this was smaller. It was white-painted, with dark red carpeting, and the pillows and doona on the bed were in a rose pattern.
On the left was a door, which I supposed led to a bathroom, and the single bed and a desk. The wall directly facing the entrance door had a large window that spread all the way across. The colour of the curtains matched the carpet, but they were closed. Along the right wall were two doors, which I supposed were closets, a set of drawers and a bookshelf, which was empty.
Fergus set the bags on the carpet beside the bed. "This be yer room, miss. Wash up, and come down to meet yer grandparents. Don't be long." He switched on the overhead light before leaving.
I put down the bags I was carrying, and went into the bathroom. Everything was white, hospital-white. And it was spotless. It was all ordered. There was soap in the bath and shower, and in the basin, and inside the mirrored cabinets were medical items, deodorant, toothbrush and toothpaste, items for "monthlies" and a comb.
As I washed up, I prepared myself mentally for meeting my grandparents. Fergus had given me the impression that my grandfather was nice, but quiet, and my grandmother made all the rules.
One thing niggled at me: How hard were they on their daughters?