THE SIXTH GUEST: Chapter Seven - Part Five

Henry didn’t realise he was staring until the little girl spoke to him and when he did he flushed from collar to pate as though his innermost thoughts had been revealed.

“Where is my bedroom?” she said, in the tenderest, sweetest little voice he’d ever heard form a child. She looked ashen and tired and she rubbed unconsciously at her eye, peering up at him through her lashes with absolute trust and dependence.

Henry started, his mind blamnk of any kind of rational response for a moment. He was reeling still from his encounter with the strange intruder and now to find himself in this contrived situation. It stimulated wonder.  But the child was waiting. She’d asked him a question and her had no choice but to take a hold of himself. “Er, just up here. I’ll show you.” He gestured to the foot of the stairs and stepped forward, pausing to wonder at the protocol of leading or following. He was knocked off-kilter enough that his life-trained social instincts were vacuous.

She’s only a child, he reminded himself. It doesn’t matter. But he was hyperaware of everything now.

He was ahead of her already so by default he led the way up the staircase and the girl followed at a slow shamble, dead or dying on her feet. Her eyes were partly closed. She looked like she might fall asleep upright if left alone.

Henry turned left at the top of the first flight then climbed the four steps to the upper landing. His bedroom and Joey’s cell were straight ahead. He paused there before them for the child to catch up.

“I’m sorry to say I don’t remember your name,” he said.

She yawned, stretching the syllables of her name round it but he made out enough to catch “Rosalie.”

“That’s a pretty name,” he replied, then opened his mouth again to say, “for a pretty girl.” But he didn’t say it. He just closed his mouth again.

Rosalie joined him at the corner there and pointed to the third closed doorway. “Is that my bedroom?”

“No,” said Henry. “That room’s empty. The landlady’s hoping to get a sixth guest in there. You’ll be sleeping up there.” He pointed to the steep wooden ladder-stairs in an alcove to their right.

It was an odd arrangement. A person had to walk into the short corridor then turn back on himself to climb up the ladder-stair through the open hatchway. It was a permanent feature but not a climb that Henry relished. He’d only ever climbed up once out of pure nosiness and had immediately decided not to risk it again.

Still, this time he had to. And he... wanted to. He had a responsibility to see to it that the little girl got safely settled into bed.

“Come on,” he said. “Up you go.”

He touched the top of her back to guide her before him. When she reached the foot of the ladder stair she looked back at him doubtfully. “Up there?”

He nodded. “It’s perfectly safe.” A lie, but a serviceable one.

She gave the peak a suspicious peer then started to climb, holding on to each step with both hands.

It was a staircase of sorts with wooden steps and gaps between, but the angle of ascent was so steep it was uncomfortably close to being vertical. It was possible to climb and descend with no hands but not particularly wise.

When she was half way up, Henry positioned himself at the bottom and looked up, catching a clear but shaded view up her bare legs and into the cavity of her dress.

He swallowed, shutting his eyes tightly then started up after her.

It was pitch black in the loft room. Rosalie stayed close to the hatchway until his head popped level with her ankles. Twin light switches were built into the side of the hatch. He pressed them at random until the little blue sunken halogen lights came on.

It had broadly sloping ceilings. It was only possible to stand upright in the centre of the room. Most of the floor space was covered in boxes. Henry got up there and stood beside Rosalie, unsure what was to come next.

They looked at one another and the clear thought came to Henry that he was totally alone with her.

Joey had left for work. Travis and Selina were ensconced on the ground floor. Clare and Mike had gone out. There were two floors of space between them and anyone else.

Rosalie gave him a little smile. Henry cleared his throat, smiling back.

The moment lengthened then abruptly passed.

“Here,” he said. “I think there’s a bed at the back here.” He led her to the far end of the attic space. Behind the boxes was an alcove that could only be reached by crawling. A double bed was in there, thankfully made up and uncovered. That at least was a relief. “Yes. You can sleep there,” he said. “And your father will be up to join you soon I’m sure.”

They stood there for another moment. And another.

“Er... Come on then,” said Henry. “We’d, er, better get you ready for bed. Do you have a nighty?”

Rosalie shook her head solemnly.

Henry cleared his throat. “Ah. Alright. Er, well take your shoes off and... and your dress then. You’ll have to, er, sleep in your underwear.” He tried to smile reassuringly but was worried that it would look like a leer.

Rosalie kicked off her sandals then reached for the hem of her dress.

Another moment came that seemed frozen. Henry’s hands were shaking.

Then he turned away, just as she whipped it up and over her head.

He closed his eyes, gripping one palsied hand with the other, not hearing his own heartbeat but feeling the tremors.

The dress fell to the floor just within his field of vision but he didn’t look down at it for fear he would catch a peripheral view of the almost naked girl.

There was a shuffle of bedclothes and then silence. “I’m in,” she said.

“Good girl.”

Henry turned to look at her now, seeing her little weary face peeping over the top of the covers. His heart rate was higher now; faster. He took a step back.

“Well,” he said. “Right. You better close your eyes now and go to sleep.” He went to the top of the ladder-stair, teetering between relief, regret and confusion.

“Leave the light on,” said Rosalie. “I’m scared.”

Henry looked back at her. “Alright,” he said. “But you don’t have to worry, There’s nothing for you to be scared about.”