|Castle In The Clouds (standard:drama, 2363 words) [1/21] show all parts|
|Author: Brian Cross||Updated: Jan 13 2011||Views/Reads: 3043/1473||Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Chapters one and two of my recently completed story revolving around an island off the Northumbrian coast. The precise location is never mentioned owing to the religious significance of the island.|
Castle In The Clouds Early Twentieth Century An Island off of the Northumberland coast Chapter One To Thomas Llewellyn's unaccustomed ears the sudden noise sounded like a firework cracking the May air, disturbing the peace of an island and the small sixteenth century castle he'd just bought. It seemed idyllic, he hadn't counted on unruly elements shattering the rustic charm. But then striding along the castle's upper gallery and glancing through a window, Llewellyn saw the reason for the disturbance, as an orange flare from a sea-going vessel ripped through the grey sky. He trod a flight of stairs, opening an oak door leading onto a former gun battery which now provided a roof garden with a spectacular panorama. But it was the sight of the sinking ship which caught his eye. Viewed from a distance it seemed small, its stern largely submerged in the high seas while the bow appeared marooned above them; and then as a klaxon sounded repeatedly he watched the island's lifeboat crew assemble before setting out to sea. Llewellyn felt a hand on his shoulder and smelled his sister's cologne blasting across his nose. 'Is this what possessed you to buy the place Thomas? So that you could watch real life dramas unfold? No theatre can adequately portray the real thing, isn't that a fact? Prey – let us take a seat and watch.' 'Shame on me should I ever consider such a thing, shame on you that you actually propose it.' Llewellyn removed his sister's heavily jewelled wrist, 'Come Dorothea, if there is nothing we can do to assist, there is little point in witnessing some wretched soul's demise – we shall go inside.' 'Do so if you wish Thomas, but you are not my keeper, nor am I one of your City pawns.' Dorothea gave Llewellyn a defiant dark-eyed stare. 'I intend to watch the show unfold.' Llewellyn met that stare momentarily; dressed in her black cape, its hood veiling her dark curly hair, her prominent nose the only distinctive feature, Dorothea seemed every inch the sorceress. There were times when her support was invaluable, but there were occasions when her behaviour was insufferable. Such a time was now. Llewellyn closed the door on her, took the gallery steps and made his way down to the lounge where he stood by a Gothic window and stared out across the island, surveying the scenery, wild now in the developing storm. He reflected on his decision to purchase the castle as a second home, and how it would fair under the auspices of his sister, to whom he'd entrusted the day to day supervision. The plan was for Dorothea to manage his staff of three which consisted of David Hambleton, the butler, who had made the move from London to undertake the task, Mrs. Simms, who had been recruited from amongst the Northumberland island's residents as cook, along with John Gibbings, the young gardener cum handyman, who he'd been assured was both a gifted gardener and industrious worker. The acquisition had been at considerable expense, but as a prominent banker it provided him with a prestigious residence to dine, accommodate and impress his influential clients. They could not fail to be so. With the wind buffeting its stout walls Llewellyn commenced a routine evening inspection of a castle that had been expertly redesigned by a leading architect to resemble a fortified house. Its many rooms were Click here to read the rest of this story (250 more lines)
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