Wednesday, October 21, 2009
The dumbwaiter at Laverstone Manos had been disused since 1954 when Frederick inherited the manor. It wasn't so much that he couldn't afford the upkeep on the house – though that was certainly true – but that with just himself living there (Ada having gone off to live in a council flat over the Bakery in Low Street) there didn't seem much point. It was as easy to carry his cup of cocoa upstairs as it was to walk up and then haul it up the shaft. Either way it was cold by the time he got into bed.
He solved the dilemma by moving his bed into the kitchen wing and closing much of the rest of the house up. It was less fraught like that too. The older he got the more distressing he found the huge number of ghosts that shared the building with him.
The dumb waiter lay rusting and forgotten, wallpapered over until Harold, with an unusual burst of enthusiasm, remembered playing with it as a child and insisted upon opening it up again. "You can send me tea in bed," he said. "It will be a Feature>"
Jasfoup shook his head. "You've been watching House Renovation shows again, haven't you?"
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