Come On Inn

Bree and Carrie check in. 300 words

Come On Inn

“Who lives here?” Carrie asked.

“This isn’t a house, sweetheart. It’s a place where you pay to stay,” replied her mother, Bree, as she helped her out of the coach. The driver whipped up the horses and was soon gone.

Clasping her little daughter’s hand in one of hers and the single carpet bag in the other, Bree straightened her back and raised her chin just a little higher. The pair mounted the few steps to a once imposing door. Pushing it open, made it creak and groan loudly.

“Close the door please. It’s so draughty when it’s open,” said a quavering voice.

Bree advanced to a reception desk lost in the shadows. The man behind it was impossibly tall and thin, with a sagging face and sharp blue eyes. He looked the pair up and down without seeming to.

“Do you have a reservation?” he asked in a cadaverous voice.

“I was told I wouldn’t need one.” Bree replied

“True, but those who have one...” the man stopped.

“Then we can check in until Monday?”

“Of course! My name is Montmorency,” he took Bree’s hand briefly when she offered it.

“Right this way please,” he said as he led them up many flights of dusty stairs. Finally, they reached the attics.

“Those without reservations, must take what’s offered,” the clerk said.

“Anything is fine.”

He handed Bree the key and was quickly gone. Bree inserted the key in the door in front of her and turned it.

“It’s been a long day. Straight to bed for both of us!” she said.

On Monday, Montmorency removed the names of Carrie and Bree Silverstone from his register book and replaced their room key on his rack. For, as expected by all who knew the inn’s past, they’d vanished.