decisively pushing it home into the lock. Her wrist twisted and I thought I saw her give a little gasp, almost as if the key had turned of its own accord. I may have been mistaken.
The door opened easily and smoothly, without even the hint of a horror-movie creak; the air that rushed out was musty and damp, and seemed glad to be free.
THE ROUND ROOM
I WAS READY to go straight on in, puzzled though I was that Midge had succeeded where I had failed; Midge, however, hesitated.
Again I'm not sure—quite a few things are still not entirely sharp in my memory—but there seemed to be some kind of trepidation in her manner now. Enough, at least, to dismiss any mock-gloating on her part. Perhaps I'm not sure because the sudden change in mood was just as quickly gone; I know she had disappeared inside before I could voice my concern.
Shrugging to myself, I ventured in after her and the instant coolness was an unwelcome contrast to the warmth outside. We found ourselves in a smallish room, no more than ten by twelve I guessed (the house particulars had been left back in the car), with an open door ahead and stairs beyond leading up to the next level. We could see the kitchen area through an opening to our right. The floor here and in the room next door was quarry-tiled and I noticed an unnatural darkness to the surface. Crouching, I touched the stone.
'Feels damp,' I said and searched the skirting. Sure enough, a dark waterline stained the opposite wall just a couple of inches above the floor. 'The far wall there must cut into the embankment and when it rains water seeps down through the soil and into the brickwork'
Midge didn't appear that interested, which irritated me a little; I knew that kind of dampness could be serious and I was thinking in money terms. She'd already gone through into the kitchen. With an exasperated shake of my head, I rose and went after her. 'Midge, you've gotta take note of these things,' I whined. 'They're gonna decide whether or not we buy this place.'
'Sorry, Mike.' Pretending contriteness, she slid up to me and momentarily rested her head against my chest. Then she was over by the huge black cooking range we had seen through the window and stooping to open oven doors, squawking with delight when she peered into them, then rising to exclaim more loudly when she laid eyes on the skillet hooks on the side of the recess above the range, filled with long-handled saucepans and a rather large frying pan. On the floor just in front of the range stood an iron kettle on a trivet, adding an extra charm.
'It's like something out of an old fairy tale,' Midge called back to me.
'You mean where the witch boils frogs and babies' legs on her stove to make her spells?' I asked as I joined her. I saw there were pots, also of black metal, inside the largest of the ovens.
'Nothing so nasty,' Midge admonished. She leaned into the recess and squinted up into the chimney. I hastily pulled her back when I noticed the dangerous flaw in the massive stone lintel above the range. She looked at me in surprise until I pointed out the crack.
'That looks ready to collapse,' I warned and she had sense enough to back away.
'I doubt it runs all the way through.'
'Maybe not, but why take the chance? That's another item that would have to be taken care of.'
Midge frowned, not liking the list I was already compiling.
'Ten-to-one the chimney's blocked by now, and nobody's going to clear it until that stone's been made safe.' There was no fun in mentioning these things, but I felt that someone had to be realistic.
'Perhaps the damp and this are the worst faults,' Midge remarked hopefully.
I shrugged. We'd only seen the ground floor so far.
One of those deep earthenware sinks stood under the window we'd peeked through earlier, the kind you could bath a Shetland pony in, and I wandered over to it and turned on the hot and cold taps. Both ran brown after several clunks from the pipes and sudden spats from the taps themselves. I let them run for a minute or so and the color hardly changed at all.
'Tank's probably rusted through,' I commented. 'Or maybe that's how they drink it around here.' I was beginning to feel gloomy.
Meanwhile, Midge was opening cupboards and drawers; the wooden units looking pretty early fare but nonetheless not in bad shape. I investigated another door, expecting to find a larder or broom-cupboard, but instead discovering a toilet with a high-mounted chain flush.
'Least we don't have to use a shed in the garden.' I pulled the rusty chain and the system groaned loudly, the bowl flooding instantly with the not-unexpected brown water which seemed to take an unreasonably long time to gurgle away, burping and hiccuping as it went. 'I think the sheet said cesspool drainage,' I said as I closed the door again. 'I wonder when it was last emptied.' I was wondering if it had ever been emptied.
Midge was standing in the middle of the kitchen and I could tell that nothing I'd said so far had deterred her.
'Can we go upstairs now?' she asked.
'I can't wait,' I answered.
'Keep an open mind, Mike.'
'Will you do the same?'
There was no annoyance in our words; we trusted in one another too much for that kind of pettiness. I suppose you could say we were tinged with apprehension, both of us fearing that either one would be disappointed. I knew Midge really wanted me to want this place and I would have done almost anything to please her, but we were not just talking about a financial wrench here, but a social one too. If it was going to work, it had to be
We mounted the stairs to the next level holding hands, Midge leading as if drawing me up with her.
The stairway doubled round into a mini hallway, the outside door I had first tried to our right and the doorway leading into the round room to our left. Sunshine hit us like a softly exploding shell and for an incredible instant I felt as though I were floating. So strong was the sensation that I became giddy, and only Midge clutching my hand and pulling firmly saved me from toppling back down the stairway. I blinked rapidly, blinded by the sudden dazzle, and Midge's sweet image swept in and out before me as though I were in a dreamy, slow faint. I remember concern in her light eyes, yet warmth also, a confidence that encompassed and reassured me. My vision cleared and I was vaguely aware that although no more than a second or two had passed, a vast expanse of time had swayed before me.
I found myself in the round room, although I couldn't remember having entered. The sun blazed outside and the landscape through the large windows looked microcosmically clear, as though every leaf could be seen singly, every grass blade viewed as a separate entity. The sky around was of the cleanest, purest blue I had ever witnessed. Mistakenly, I thought I understood that abrupt and unnatural lucidity. I'd heard that the effects of certain drugs could spring back at you when you least expected it, even years after their original use, and I got no pleasure from that notion, only a withering sense of shame. I assumed that the sudden change from cool shade into dazzling light had triggered off lingering chemicals in my mind—strobe lighting can sometimes do the same thing—taking me on a short and confusing trip. That's what I thought then, and I'm still not discounting that possibility.
My eyes quickly refocused (perhaps it would be more accurate to say
'Are you okay?' she asked, her hands soft against my cheeks.
'Uh, yeah, I think so. Yeah, I'm fine.' And I was, for the mood, the unexpected shift in perception, had vanished, leaving hardly any aftereffects other than the memory. 'Felt faint for a minute there; must have been the change in altitude,' I joked.
'You sure you're all right?'
'Yeah, I promise, I'm okay.'
I looked around, seeing the room itself now, not the landscape outside. 'This is something else,' I remarked after a low, appreciative whistle.
'Isn't it beautiful, Mike?' Midge's smile threatened to split her face in two, so broad and beaming was it. She skipped away from me and did a quick tour (circular, of course), ending up at a quaint fireplace with a rough brick
