Charm: 3rd Increment:

Just as Clair prepared to walk into the foyer, she heard the Becca say, “Oh, Claire! You have got to see this staircase. It’s perfect. Just imagine this room all clean and bright and repainted.”

Coming around the door jam, she looked up at the staircase to her right. “It is. This could be featured in Southern Living.”

“Well, I don’t think it is that spectacular. But it is charming in a small way.”

The room was fused with a different colored light than that of the dining room. It came in through both the beveled and frosted glass of the front door and from a smaller stained glass window on the first landing. “Is that window on the landing a Tiffany?”

“I can’t tell. Probably an imitation. But it is lovely, in any case.” Becca said, exploring the recess behind the stairs.

Brushing back by Claire, Becca asked, “Did you see that back room? A study, I think, judging from all the built in book shelves. It still has the old pot bellied stove they used to heat it.”

“No ... I didn’t see it,” Claire said glancing down the hallway toward the invisible door to it. “I’ll pass.”.

“You saw the parlor ... er living room? Charming, but a bit smaller than I’d like.”

“They didn’t use them often, did they?” Claire answered.

“You should at least stick your head in the door. Take a look at that tile around the fireplace.”

“Maybe ... really, Becca, I ...”

“Oh, never mind. You can see it later after I move in.”

Becca stood for a moment at the bottom of the stairs. As she scanned the room, her eyes flitted from feature to feature, pausing longest on the lovely newel post and the hand rail, “I love to speculate about what it must have been like to have lived in a place like this when it was new. Can you imagine? I’d say this dates back to the late 1890's. Wouldn’t you? Everything in this house is so original and so like it would have been, that I can almost imagine the ladies all dressed up in those cinched in dresses with leg-o-mutton sleeves . . . and maybe a row of tiny buttons all the way down the front of the bodice. I think they wore big bows at the nape of their necks at about that time. Very romantic.”

“Sometimes you surprise me, Becca.”

Becca focused a sharp, appraising look on Claire, “How’s that?”

“Do you ever even wear a dress? I’d never guess that you had a romantic streak.”

“I simply love history, Claire. If we don’t have a sense where we’ve been, then we won’t have a sense of where we are going, either. I simply believe we ought to preserve the past as much as we are able.”

Claire said, observing the wallpaper that was peeling away from the walls just inside the door and grimmaced.

Becca smiled tolerantly. “C’mon, let’s go upstairs and see the bedrooms.” She grasped the rail and launched up the first few steps.

“Okay. Let’s.” Donna’s stomach dropped as she saw Claire climb the stairs taking two at a time. “It’s a wonder that you have never broken a leg. How can you possibly run up the stairs in a house this old? I don’t think I can carry you if one of those treads break and you fall through.”

“You won’t have to. They’re sound,” Becca said as she vanished at the top of the stairs. “I haven’t seen any evidence of leaks, no ruined ceilings ... this place looks as though it has been taken care of ever since it was built.”

“Correction. The outside has been cared for ever since it was built. It looks like nothing has been done inside.”

“That’s what makes this house such a treasure. I can make an effort to match the patterns and colors on the wallpaper and actually restore it. I’ll bet the paint outside is even in the original colors, even if it is more than a hundred years old.”

Claire had only managed to climb half the stairs before she had the next verbal update. “Oh! A sitting room. It’s lovely. It even has a fireplace. And the master bedroom is roomy.”

Claire finally gained the top step and nearly ran into Becca coming out of the master bedroom. “Don’t fail to take a look out the door in the bedroom. It’s the sleeping porch. Amazing!”

“I will.” Claire said without conviction. Her eyes followed Becca until she vanished through the door of another bedroom. She heard Becca’s voice echo in the empty room as she exclaimed, “Nice!”

Claire entered the master suite, glanced around it swiftly as she hurried through and merely glanced through the window onto the sleeping porch. It looked dreary to her with all twelve windows covered, the dark green shades pulled closed.

As Claire exited the master suite, she entered the hallway just in time to see Becca’s feet tripping up the stairs. She heard the hinges squeal above as Becca passed through the doorway at the top.

Claire approached the newel post and leaned across the rail, craning her neck so she could look up. It was dark and unwelcoming with just the faintest tint of green light issuing from the landing above..

The hairs on the back of Claire’s neck tingled and she felt a chill. She could hear the slight creaks and pops above her head as Becca walked through the room over her head. Remaining stock still, all Claire’s senses intensified. The house seemed to become full of sound, as the slightest sound echoed hollowly through the entire house. Behind her, she heard a slight scratching noise. ‘Mice in the walls’ she thought, but turned toward the sound curiously. At that moment she felt as if something were watching her. Another chill clawed up her spine.

“Bang!” Clair jumped. Something in the downstairs, like a door slammed shut or as though something heavy hit the floor, the sound reverberating through the house. Claire’s heart raced and she pressed her hand over her heart and gasped for air. Turning hesitantly, eyes wide, she glanced fearfully down the stairs, holding her breath to listen.

Below, she could see only the quiet circle of bare wood flooring at the base of the stairs. Nothing moved and she didn’t expect it to. But the shadows beyond her vision seemed thick and hazy. First, she began to lean over the rail to see more of the foyer, but, frightened by her sense of imbalance, she turned back to the attic stairs. She called up to Becca, “Would you hurry? Something made a huge noise downstairs. Maybe we aren’t alone anymore.”