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[h1]Regina[/h1]
[h3] 24.01.26 [/h3]


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The Eton College sweater swamped Regina’s tiny frame; Hem skimming the top of her knees and cuffs hung past her knuckles. The college logo plastered across the chest was faded and cracked, years of wear and laundering aging it to vintage aesthetic. The neckline smelt like him. Tom Ford. With every slight movement, a waft of Anthony’s musky cologne flooded her nostrils. Tears threatened to spill over every time. She’d taken position in the Blackstone Manor foyer, sat with her legs folded beneath her on an Italian leather chair by the Grandfather clock that ticked incessantly next to her. She’d pulled her greying hair back into a low bun, badly, and stray curls sprouted from the hair tie. Regina’s usually steely gaze was vacant as she watched police officers pace in and out of the manor house. Like a guard dog, the newly-widowed Regina stared at the front door as it open and closed repeatedly. More officers had been called to the scene and a Detective Russell had introduced himself as the man in charge of the “case.” It was he who had volunteered to phone the children, at Regina’s request, to inform them of their father’s passing. Now, she sat wondering which of her children would rush to the scene.

Her ghostly pallor earned pointed, concerned looks from passing police officers. Lola had been ushered away for further questioning and Regina had watched her leave in hysterics without an ounce of empathy. Frankly, she was glad to have the source of irritating snivelling removed from her presence. House Staff should watch their composure in the company of the Blackstone employers. Anthony was her boss, not her husband. The tears felt jarring. Performative.

A shiver skittered down Regina’s spine and she realised her knuckles had whitened as she gripped her phone. It vibrated angrily in her palm and her leadened eyes flickered down to look at the screen. A text from Edward, her eldest. Breath catching in her throat, she thumbed the notification to open the message. 

[right] [color=ed1c24][i]“Won’t make it for a few days. Business.”[/i][/color] [/right]

She tutted. Of course he wouldn’t be here when she needed him most. Not even a family tragedy could drag that boy away from whatever work he was busying himself with. His father was literally [i]dead[/i] and he [i]still[/i] prioritised anything but. Ironically, it was a move his Father would’ve made. In fact, Anthony repeatedly put work before everything else. He and Edward shared that philosophy. Regina let out a shaky breath and weakly locked her phone again, letting it slip between her fingers and land on the Italian leather with a thud. 

As she stared absently at the herringbone floorboards of Blackstone’s foyer, it took her far too long to notice two polished combat boots stood stationary in her eyeline. The hum of a police radio made her look up, finding Detective Russel looming over her.

[quote] “[i]Mrs Blackstone,”[/i] the Detective said by way of greeting. His eyes were inquisitive, void of any expected empathy. [i]“We’ve had the medical examiner take a look at your husband’s body…”[/i] [/quote]

The image of Anthony, motionless on their mattress, flashed in Regina’s mind and she shuddered again. The Detective pressed on, unphased.

[quote] [i]“It’s of the experts opinion that Mr Blackstone’s death was, in actual fact, not of natural causes as was initially evaluated by the paramedics.”[/i][/quote]

Detective Russel’s voice sounded muffled, so far away from where Regina sat, shellshocked and shaken.

[quote] “[i]That does mean that the house is now an active crime scene. We’re securing the premises now, to protect any evidence. My officers will begin to sweep the property and it’s likely the forensic team will arrive any minute to aid the process.”[/i] [/quote]

The words bled together, like watercolours on a canvas, each sentence seeping into the other. Regina simply stared back at Detective Russel, face absent of any recognition or real emotion. Her lips pressed together to form a hardened line, eyes slowly blinking in forced gestures that would ordinarily be automatic. Her chest felt like it had been wrung out like a wet towel, coiled like a spring inside her. 

[quote] “[i]The children are coming,[/i]” Regina stated, voice strained but firm. “[i]This is their home. They’ll be on their way already.”[/i][/quote]

Detective Russel, seemingly immune to Regina’s gravitas, shook his head once in denial of the request. She narrowed her eyes, the bubbling of anger boiling in the pit of her stomach. A woman unaccustomed to refusal, Regina rose from the chair slowly, levelling the playing field by straightening her shaken body as much as she could. She mustered what little strength remained inside her and fixed the Detective with a withering look.

[quote] “[i]Their father is dead upstairs, Detective. They’re coming home. To their [b]mother[/b] who just found his body,[/i]” her voice was low, menacing. “[i]And if you won’t permit them to enter the Main Building, and fuck you by the way, I’ll be waiting for them in the goddamn Pool House instead.”[/i] [/quote]

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Regina had exited the Foyer dramatically, shoving past a gaggle of police and forensic officers that had began to gather at the front door. She’d slid her bare feet into a pair of Gucci slides that awaited her by the doormat. Stepping outside, feeling the bite of cool air, was a sobering moment. She glided down the front steps of the manor and winced at the crackle of gravel beneath her feet. She circled the grounds to where the covered pool sat entouraged by lush hedges and rose bushes. The Pool House, unused this time of year, had a chill and stale scent that made Regina’s nose scrunch in disgust. She shouldered the French doors, clicking the central heating into action. The warm lighting burst to life, illuminating the modern Swiss-style interiors of the Pool House. Regina lifted her phone, unlocking it with an angry swipe of her thumb. She clicked the WhatsApp icon, scrolling through her recent message threads until she found the Blackstone Family Group Chat. Thumbing the keyboard, Regina typed out a simple message and hit send.

[right] [color=ed1c24][i]“House is cordoned off. I’m in the Pool House.”[/i][/color] [/right]