The house stood there in it's unfriendly manner, empty and foreboding with the moonlight leaving an eerie glow on the stone walls. The driveway looking like glass from an earlier rain fall. Larry was irritated. Where was Barbara? She was to be here by 9.00 pm and it was already 10.30 pm. His mobile rang. It was her.
"Where are you?" she demanded. "I got here over an hour ago and no sign of you!"
"You're here?" He felt relief. "So am I. Upstairs, doing a bit of work on the computer. You found everything?"
"Sure.... food's ready, the rooms are set, everything is fine. But where are you when I need you?" The voice bordered on petulance, like a child's.
"Like I said, finishing some work. Make yourself at home, I'll be right down. Okay?"
"Okay!" She was happy now she'd heard his voice. She'd got the most awful shock when she'd seen their weekend love nest. She remembered how he'd told her that the house was a mansion, a place most people< would love to own. Looking from the outside it looked like a luxury home. That's what he'd said. She'd thought otherwise when she saw the house standing there in it's unfriendly manner, empty and foreboding with the moonlight leaving an eerie glow on the stone walls, the driveway looking like glass from an earlier rain fall.
Maybe it was his idea of a great house, but not hers. She had her share of luxury with Max, her husband, an elderly billionaire. He supplied her with a luxury lifestyle, while she fulfilled her duties as a trophy wife. She also had Larry, her ex-boyfriend and sometime lover, with a body like a Greek god's and the energy of a stallion.
She didn't feel she was being unfaithful to Max, whom she had sent away on a golfing weekend, claiming she needed to go to a health farm with a girlfriend. She did her best to keep him happy and what he didn't know wouldn't hurt. Larry's cousin Ruth lived here, looking after the house for a millionaire who stayed for only a few months of the year. Ruth had needed to go away that weekend and asked Larry to mind the house. Her mobile rang.
"I've looked all over and can't find you! Where are you?" came Larry's voice.
"In the house, where you sent me," she replied.
"You sure?"
"Sure! I reached Brentwood, went straight down to the end of Main Street and turned left at the Cross Hotel."
"You were supposed to turn right at the Cross Hotel!"
"No, I went left. About a mile out of town I reached here." There was silence.
"Barbara?" His voice was tense. "Now what?" she asked.
"You didn't reach Harlan House, did you?"
" I didn't see the sign..........but the gate opened up automatically for my car and I let myself in by the key under the mat like you told me and everything was ready like you said it would be....."
"Barbara......" His voice sounded slightly strangled. "You're at Ripley Mansion. Get out of there now! It's been empty since the infamous Ripley murders twenty years ago...."
"LARRYY!!!!!!!!!!!"
This post originally appeared on Write Away on WordPress on 17/8/2010
"Where are you?" she demanded. "I got here over an hour ago and no sign of you!"
"You're here?" He felt relief. "So am I. Upstairs, doing a bit of work on the computer. You found everything?"
"Sure.... food's ready, the rooms are set, everything is fine. But where are you when I need you?" The voice bordered on petulance, like a child's.
"Like I said, finishing some work. Make yourself at home, I'll be right down. Okay?"
"Okay!" She was happy now she'd heard his voice. She'd got the most awful shock when she'd seen their weekend love nest. She remembered how he'd told her that the house was a mansion, a place most people< would love to own. Looking from the outside it looked like a luxury home. That's what he'd said. She'd thought otherwise when she saw the house standing there in it's unfriendly manner, empty and foreboding with the moonlight leaving an eerie glow on the stone walls, the driveway looking like glass from an earlier rain fall.
Maybe it was his idea of a great house, but not hers. She had her share of luxury with Max, her husband, an elderly billionaire. He supplied her with a luxury lifestyle, while she fulfilled her duties as a trophy wife. She also had Larry, her ex-boyfriend and sometime lover, with a body like a Greek god's and the energy of a stallion.
She didn't feel she was being unfaithful to Max, whom she had sent away on a golfing weekend, claiming she needed to go to a health farm with a girlfriend. She did her best to keep him happy and what he didn't know wouldn't hurt. Larry's cousin Ruth lived here, looking after the house for a millionaire who stayed for only a few months of the year. Ruth had needed to go away that weekend and asked Larry to mind the house. Her mobile rang.
"I've looked all over and can't find you! Where are you?" came Larry's voice.
"In the house, where you sent me," she replied.
"You sure?"
"Sure! I reached Brentwood, went straight down to the end of Main Street and turned left at the Cross Hotel."
"You were supposed to turn right at the Cross Hotel!"
"No, I went left. About a mile out of town I reached here." There was silence.
"Barbara?" His voice was tense. "Now what?" she asked.
"You didn't reach Harlan House, did you?"
" I didn't see the sign..........but the gate opened up automatically for my car and I let myself in by the key under the mat like you told me and everything was ready like you said it would be....."
"Barbara......" His voice sounded slightly strangled. "You're at Ripley Mansion. Get out of there now! It's been empty since the infamous Ripley murders twenty years ago...."
"LARRYY!!!!!!!!!!!"
This post originally appeared on Write Away on WordPress on 17/8/2010