“You didn’t invite them in, did you, Sheila?” Grandfather Jessup clasped my biceps in his feeble grip and searched my face, worry akin to fear darkening his eyes. I patted his liver-stained hand and directed him back towards his recliner with gentle force. “Did you lock the door?”
“They were Jehovah’s Witnesses, gramps. Those, I never invite in.” Turning back to the hallway before he had a chance to respond, I shook the doorknob so he could hear the lock rattle.
“Firmly shut!” I raised my voice, but not enough.
“WHAT?”
Releasing a sigh I knew he wouldn’t hear, I walked back into the sitting room, and sat across from him on the sofa.
“Firmly shut.
“Didn’t like their looks, I did. Those black clothes, those pale faces…” He munched his lips. “Vampires, if I know anything about it.”
