Chapter Ten

Back at the bed and breakfast all I could think of was the idea that had consumed me at the wake. Could I really do it? Would I be caught? How on earth would I be able to pull it off? My mind became a racing freight train of these thoughts as they circle my head again and again, never slowing down. For starters I would need my place, big enough to pull off such a project of such giant ambition. And that I don’t have and would not be able to afford on my own. I was only a medical student after all and was still living with my grandparents in Scotland. Could I exchange to the nearest university here? Quite possibly I would be able to. But where on earth would I get the money to fund myself and the project and I would need to do it fast enough in time before Leonora began to decompose in the cold ground.

Maybe my grandparents wouldn’t mind loaning me money every now and then if I decide to stay here permanently. They wouldn’t have any trouble doing so as they are don’t and never have struggled with money. Living on that isolated manor in the hills surrounded by nothing but acres of woodland and fields; Spending my childhood years there with nobody to talk to but the servants, my grandparents and many pet dogs they owned meant I lacked friends my age. Even going to school, I kept my distance from the rowdy boys and their games, not interested in sports and residing most of my time in the school's library. I had focused countless hours of my attention on studying and learning about the human body and its functions, fascinated with the endless rivers of the nervous system, the robust, machinelike diagrams of the skeleton and the factory-like design of the digestive system, I knew I wanted to devote my life to studying and understanding the mysteries of biology.

I knew how to go about embalming Leonora so that she can remain preserved above ground. Corpses need to be held in cool temperatures to stop certain bacteria from breaking down tissues in the body, that would mean I would have to keep her stored somewhere below ground with plenty of air ventilation. Something like a pantry almost where they store meat. I could have ice delivered on a daily basis but even that would remain expensive to keep buying on a regular schedule. Somewhere that had a basement would be most ideal. Sieves and mesh to keep the flies out and windowless so that nobody could peep in so that Leonora could rest in private. But where could I even begin to find such a place within such short notice? And i would need to do it soon. Leonora is still buried and whilst the cool ground and the night time cold air may be ideal to slow down the petrification. She could still experience other such horrors such as rigor mortis (although that would only be a minor hinderance) bile buildup and many more. She may of already of been embalmed but as far as I knew she was kept at home by the time of her death.

My brain racked ll forms of information I could think of relating to the human body, the decomposing and how to store one but whilst i could imagine a most ideal situation to keeping Leonora's corpse hidden, prepped and looked after away from prying eyes, I just couldn't see how I would be able to find a place perfect enough to keep Leonora.

It would need to be large, have a basement that was cool and well ventilated. It would need to be close to the graveyard so that there wasn't too much of a travel back and forth. I would need transport to be able to get the required items for keeping her embalmed. Soo many countless things to take into consideration and on such short notice. Why couldn't I come up with this idea before Leonora was put in the ground. Nothing I knew was up for sale in the area and I have never driven a car before. Why or why couldn't I be more prepared?!

CRASH!

I broke out of my thinking and bolted straight out of the room to investigate the sudden calamity that had occurred. It was dark but the light from the outside streetlights highlighted something sprawled on the stairway, the figures arm reaching to the banister to pull itself up. I went to the wall to flick the switch of the hallway light and harsh, yellow light filled the room, showing Mrs. Lyttle crawling up the stairs, her face pinched in discomfort.

I immediately rushed to her side. Taking her arm, I carefully helped her gain her balance and pulled her gently back onto her feet.

"Thank you, sweetheart, I was scared I was on my own there for minute" she said as we headed back towards the top of the stairs.

"It's ok Mrs. Lyttle. I'm surprise you woke nobody else up" I said, surveying the empty hallway for anybody to show concern for Mrs. Lyttles tumble.

"Oh no dear, I'm afraid you are the only one here" she said, her voice lowered when she said this. I had never realized I was the only one in the bed and breakfast, when I had first arrived it was late at night and when I awoke the next morning it was still in the early hours of the morning. I had just presumed everybody was fast asleep in their rooms or were out for the day. I had no idea I was the only one staying at house.

"Oh, gosh I had no idea" I said, we managed to reach the top of the stairs, taking our time.

"Are you hurt?" I asked.

"Oh no sweetheart I'm fine, just a little bit bruised on the knees"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes dear, I assure you, I'm quite a tough old bird"

"If you insist, where's your room?"

"Just at the very end of the hallway, I know its customary to have the room in the attic for the bed and breakfast owner but that room means so much to me"

"Oh, really how so?"

"It was mine and my husband's room. After he had died I couldn't bear to be apart from it. This old house holds many dear memories, which is why I turned it into a bed and breakfast so I could still try to afford it."

As we reached the end of the hallway to her room I opened the door, revealing a very large spacious room with a four-poster bed with baby blue covers and a wide, heavily embroidered rug taking center stage on the floor of the room. Oil paintings of cottages submerged in the foliage of dense forests and wildflowers hung on each wall of the room. A writing desk in the back opposite the bed with a full kitted stationary for letter writing and every windowsill, bookshelf and surface were lined with silver framed photographs of young boys, standing in row at the front of the house with what I presumed were the young Mr. and Mrs. Lyttle.

"You have children Mrs. Lyttle?"

"Oh yes, all gone now" She managed to slip her arm free from mine, shuffling towards her bed, letting out an oof as she swung her legs onto the bed.

"Got their own families now?" I asked, kneeling to get a better look at the young, rather handsome boys in the photos.

"Oh no, no. They never managed to get home to have any."

Cold shock filled me as I looked at the four boys in the photo, realizing all of them were lying in unmarked graves in France.

"Oh" I gasped "I'm sorry I didn't realize"

"It's fine sweetheart, I'm not the only to lose her children to the war. My husband died of a heart attack not that long after John, the youngest went too. They weren't the youngest men to have died. They should have had families by the time the war came but they were so invested with their studying and sciences, all four of them that they never had any time for dating."

I detected a faint wobbling her voice, like something hard was bubbling in her throat, I went over to her to see her eyes were stained red from the tears trickling down her cheeks.

"Mrs. Lyttle, please don't cry, I'm sorry I shouldn't have said anything." I took her hand into mine, not flinching this time from how loose and cold it was. She snuffled, trying her best to not let her nose dribble as a stream of tears fell like raindrops on the windowpane. Her lip quivered

"I....I... just miss them so much. I just wish I wasn't on my own. Everyone I know is gone and buried. I'm so alone in this house, nobody even comes to stay here that much so I've only got myself for company. I just wish I could be wherever they are "She wailed each word, her pitch getting higher and higher as she sobbed and moaned. She grabbed her tissues and blew her nose, but nothing could seem to calm her. I wish I could placate her but my mind had wondered into a very dark place.

All alone........ she said.

"Isn't there anyone you could get to help you?" I asked, cautiously.

"Oh no dear, there's no one. I did have my sister but she has passed now and her family live soo far away they hardly know me"

"Well that’s a shame" I said but my voice was lost of all sympathy. My mind working like cogs. This house was rather large and there would be sure to be a rather large pantry, or maybe even a basement.....

"You must surely have someone who helps you with the bed and breakfast though?"

"There is a cook who sometimes helps me out when there is a large family staying but that happens only once in a blue moon and I don't hire that much help as its mostly empty most of the time."

This keeps getting better and better, I thought to myself. I felt so calm but cool like frost as I thought my plan over and over in my head. I glanced at Mrs.Lyttle, skeletal thin and already tripping on the stairs and her family dead with no living relatives close by. Her bed and breakfast run all by herself and were already at the age where nobody would question her death. I looked back at her as she brushed the handkerchief to her nose and wiping the tears away. Dark, immoral, plans forming like a huge, black cloud in my mind. I wish a slight slither of moral and noble thought would scream in my mind to not do what I was about to do but my mind was consumed in that black cloud, filled with desire to be with Leonora again.

I leaned over Mrs. Lyttle, looking directly into her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Lyttle" I said, no trace of anguish or dread in my apology. It scared me how much I lacked any remorse for the soon to be late Mrs Lyttle.

"Oh" She chuckled, unaware of what I was about to do. "It's Ok sweethe-"

But she was cut short by my hands clasping with an iron grip over her nose and mouth. It would have been foolish to have gone with a pillowcase, as air can still pass through the cotton fibers in the fabric but with your own hands you can make sure that nothing can pass through. Panic filled her faded blue eyes as she stared back at me in horror. Her skin paling, her fingers clawing and scratching my hands and arms, drawing blood with her fingernails. But the more she fought the more fought back too. I climbed onto the bed, bringing my knees up onto her arms and using my body weight to pin and crush her to the bed, straddling her; making sure she could not sit up and wriggle away. She tried to scream, but all it became was air passing through the small gaps between my fingers, muffled by my hands. Eventually her arms tired, her movements became less frantic as I watched the life fade away from her bloodshot eyes. Her legs only twitching as the shock of betrayal began to wane in her face.

No-one was coming to rescue her.

Then. Stillness.

Sweat coated my skin as I looked down at my handwork. Her chest unmoving and her eyes staring back at me. Still filled with despair.

All for her, all for Leonora......