Read Burnt Offerings (Valancourt 20th Century Classics) for Free Online Page B

and the walls peeling, and the drapes so heavy with dust? If someone had had the taste to collect so much exquisite crystal and silver, then why weren’t they responsible enough to keep it polished and gleaming?
    “Make yourselves at home,” Walker was saying. “Just watch where you sit; lot of old stuff in here.” He pulled the dust-cloth out of his back pocket and passed it perfunctorily over a gilt console. He was moving toward one of the windows. “Musty,” he said, sniffing.
    Marian stood next to Ben, her eyes travelling over the room; she took his hand and squeezed it, as if to say, “Help me, please!”
    “Cozy,” Ben said, and then stage-whispered, “Money. Very old money.”
    David was at the other end of the room, watching Walker struggle with the window. “Hey!” he called out suddenly, “they got a boat.” The window opened with a wrench and a breeze flew into the room, knocking a fluted shade off a lamp.
    “Look at the view if you want,” Walker said. He lifted the shade, pulled the plug, and stuck the lamp under his arm.
    David became more excited. “Dad, they got a boat!” he cried.
    “Busted,” Walker said.
    Ben had come to the window. “Where’s the pool the ad mentioned?”
    “Can’t see it from the house,” Walker said. He waved vaguely. “It’s down there.”
    Ben looked out beyond the terrace to the lawn sloping down to the bay where he could see a twisted pier and a small cabin cruiser jutting up, waterlogged. There had been formal gardens at one time, with a large stone fountain in the center. What a waste is right, he thought.
    Marian had found a coral lacquer secretary, beautifully embellished with black and gold figures, against the inside wall. She touched it, hesitantly at first, absorbed in the detail; her hand followed the cool, polished curve, very lightly, reaching the small finial. One piece, tucked away in a corner, and it was worth more than everything they had or ever would have, as far as she could see. To be able to live with something so beautiful – not own, merely live with, for a month, two months. God .
    David’s voice broke in. “How come your plants are all dead?” he was asking. She looked away from the secretary and was startled to see Walker, David next to him, watching her and smiling. She moved away self-consciously. “I couldn’t help admiring it,” she apologized. “It’s lovely.” Walker kept smiling at her, and David said, “Your front steps’re busted too.”
    “David!” She smiled feebly in Walker’s direction. Why was he watching her like that?
    “Everything’s busted around here,” Walker said, and finally looked away from her, adjusting the lamp under his arm.
    Ben had stepped out onto the terrace. “Go with Daddy,” Marian said, calling, “Easy, easy,” as he ran across the room. “It’s all right, isn’t it?” she asked Walker.
    “Sure. Look over the place if you want.” He was beginning to leave the room.
    “How old is the house?” Marian asked.
    Walker stopped and shrugged. “Who knows?” He noticed something across the room. “Heck,” he said. He came back to Marian and placed the lamp and shade next to her on the floor. “Watch this stuff a minute, will you?” There was a large landscape, elaborately framed, hanging above the sofa. He walked toward it – small, quick steps, as though he were used to sudden obstructions – knelt on the sofa and reached up to straighten the picture, making it even more crooked. “Better,” he said, inspecting the picture, and as he came back to her, it crashed to the floor behind the sofa. Before she knew it, Marian cried out, “ Walker! ” Her tone was inexplicably sharp and proprietary, and immediately one hand went up to her mouth.
    Walker looked stunned for just a second, and then there were the traces of a smile. “Yes, ma’am?” he said, quietly and evenly.
    Her fingers remained over her lips. Why had she said that, why had it burst out so instinctively?