Castle In The Clouds, Chapters Seven and Eight (standard:drama, 3361 words) [4/21] show all parts
Author: Brian Cross	Added: Jun 10 2009	Views/Reads: 2377/1735	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Continuation of completed story about a City banker who purchases a castle and finds his life changed forever

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

and note that you will soon be following up with performances which 
will bring you close to the island.' Llewellyn coughed, 'I was 
wondering whether you might favour us with a return visit?' 

'So soon?' Llewellyn heard Veronica draw breath and felt he'd been shot
down by a bullet. 'I really cannot afford any time prior to my 
performances in York, I need to rehearse frequently you see.' 

'I see -' Despondency weighed down on him. 

'However, I shall have a week free once I've completed my concerts; I
should be more than pleased to return to your castle. Can I suggest the 
first of July?' 

Llewellyn smiled, 'You certainly can; that would be first rate.' Quickly
his mood had lifted, life was happiness itself. He didn't bother to 
consider whether prior engagements might prohibit his return at this 
time. 'We shall finalise arrangements later, perhaps you would be kind 
enough to write to Hambleton, advising him of the time of your arrival. 
Either myself or Hambleton will then meet you at the station.' 

'Why thank you Mr. Llewellyn, until the first of July then.' 

Llewellyn replaced the telephone on the desk as the line went dead,
collected his paper and marched out feeling as light as a feather. 
Veronica's answer was all he could have expected, more in fact. 

He'd deliberately arranged that she contacted Hambleton, for an
indefinable reason he knew he couldn't trust Dorothea one iota 
concerning Veronica. 

The less she knew before her arrival, the better. 

Back at his London residence, Llewellyn wasted little time contacting
the castle via the newly installed telephone system. He was more than 
grateful that Hambleton answered and not Dorothea. 

CHAPTER EIGHT 

July 1st 

Dorothea Llewellyn cast disapproving dark eyes around the castle
entrance hall and then swept along a corridor beckoning the butler to 
follow her. 'Hambleton as you are aware, my brother returns this 
afternoon, you know how he dislikes slovenliness and the castle appears 
a trifle dingy. See what you can do to brighten it up. I would summon 
Gibbings but I have other duties for him.' 

Hambleton gave a discreet sigh, weren't all castles dingy? Their
original purpose demanded it, and just what “other duties” was Dorothea 
planning for Gibbings? After her now daily inspections of him there 
seemed always to be a private task to hand. He watched her throw open a 
guest room door, raise her nose and sniff, then gaze down at a freshly 
made bed. 'I was going to suggest that you air the guest rooms, not 
that company is expected but for Mr. Llewellyn's benefit you 
understand. But this room has been freshly prepared, would you mind 
telling me why?' 

Hambleton looked into eyes that burned not with curiosity but certain
knowledge. Llewellyn had asked that Veronica's visit be kept secret, 
but he could oblige no longer - 

'Well come on Hambleton, let's not dilly dally,' Dorothea said, hands
thrust on hips. 'This was the room Miss Day slept in, was it not? Are 
you now informing me she is returning?' Dorothea's tone had risen a 
notch, her hooded eyes taken on their formidably hawkish look. 

Hambleton raised a finger to his lips, trying to conceal his discomfort.
'Madam, that is so.' 

She took a step closer, fiercely meeting his eyes. 'And why wasn't I
informed of this?' 

'I beg your pardon, Madam, but as Miss Day is Mr. Llewellyn's guest, I
thought it unnecessary.' 

Dorothea's complexion had a dark tinge to it, her angry eyes shooting
rapidly to and fro as she screwed them. 'It is your responsibility, 
Hambleton, to see that I am informed of all developments relating to 
this castle – remember, you might be my brother's appointment Hambleton 
– but you are not indispensable – just when is this woman expected?' 

'I am to collect her from the station at two pm,' Hambleton overcame a
stammer, managing to keep his dignity in the face of Dorothea's 
ferocity. 

'That will not be possible,' she snapped. 'I have already instructed
that you check the castle interior thoroughly prior to my brother's 
arrival.' 

'I beg to differ Madam,' Hambleton said in his humblest tone, 'they are
Mr. Llewellyn's instructions and cannot be overridden.' 

From a sudden movement of Dorothea's right arm Hambleton thought she
would strike him, but as he stepped back her forefinger quivered an 
inch from his nose, before speechless with anger she swung away, 
storming back down the hall. 

A sound of boots on the flagstone floor drew her to a halt. The lean
figure in dark overalls stood before her. 'Miss Llewellyn, sorry for my 
late arrival,' John Gibbings said, 'the lifeboat klaxon sounded – a 
false alarm, I -' 

Dorothea raised a hand dismissively. 'I will overlook it on this
occasion.' She searched his eyes, 'I take it you have been made aware?' 


'Aware, Miss Llewellyn, aware of what?' 

Dorothea snatched a look back at Hambleton, 'It seems that Miss Day is
to make an unannounced return visit forthwith, unannounced to me at any 
rate -' she fixed her eyes on him again,  'is that interest I see on 
your face?' 

Gibbings shook his head emphatically. 'No Miss Llewellyn, just surprise
that's all.' 

'She distracts you from your duties at your peril,' Dorothea hissed, her
jaw tightening. 

'She will not distract me, Miss Llewellyn,' Gibbings said solemnly. 'I
have no interest in her, other than my duties as a lifeboat man -' 

'Enough -'  Dorothea gave a sharp intake of breath, 'come, show me your
hands.' She took them in hers, turned them, applied some pressure – 
'They look clean to me; before you endeavour to dirty them I have a 
task for you.' 

Hambleton watched as Dorothea did an about turn, guided Gibbings along
the hallway, passing him without a word. But Gibbings flashed him a 
look from his blue eyes, though its meaning if there was one, was 
hidden. *                         *                      * 

Hambleton arrived at the station to see steam from the locomotive
waiting at the platform billow over the station roof. No sooner had he 
pulled the trap to a halt than Veronica Day, all leggy elegance in a 
flowing dress of pastel shades and fine lace trimmings, emerged through 
the exit, carrying her luggage in one hand and her violin case in the 
other. 

She was attractive in the extreme and Hambleton knew his employer was
fond of her. For his employer's sake he hoped the feeling was 
reciprocated, but Dorothea's thinly disguised hostility towards the 
violinist caused him concern. He did not trust Dorothea, his first look 
into her hard, dark eyes had bestowed in him wariness, but now he 
sensed she saw a threat in Veronica Day. 

Precisely why, he couldn't comprehend. Perhaps she feared that a place
in her brother's affections might prejudice her own position in the 
household, or could it be something to do with Dorothea's strange 
behaviour towards Gibbings? Unlikely as that might seem, Hambleton kept 
an open mind. 

'Good afternoon, Miss Day, a pleasure to greet you.' Hambleton smiled as
he slipped from the trap and collected her luggage. 'I take it your 
journey has not been too tiring?' 

'Not at all, Mr. Hambleton, I am stronger than I look.' She returned his
smile though it faded a little, 'Is Mr. Llewellyn indisposed?' 

'No madam, he is due to arrive later this afternoon, he had hoped to
have arrived sooner, however an important customer of the bank has 
booked a late appointment.' 

'Ah, she fell silent as Hambleton gathered the reins and the pony
commenced its trot through the rolling Northumberland countryside. 'I'm 
certainly pleased the weather's picked up,' she said at length, 'such a 
nice, fresh feel to the day don't you think, after all the morning 
rain. Far better conditions for your gardener, Gibbings aren't they? It 
must be awful for him in foul weather. How has he been faring?' 

Hambleton fingered his throat, it felt cloyed, perhaps it was just
summer pollen, but certain aspects of Veronica Day's visit did not bode 
well, there was an air of portent that made  him tense – and just a 
short distance into the journey she'd hit on Gibbings. 

'He seems well, madam,' Hambleton said uncomfortably. 'You understand
that he spends much of his time on outside duties, therefore I do not 
see much of him.' 

Hambleton coughed,  something needed to be said before they reached the
castle. 'However, I feel obliged to advise you that Miss Llewellyn's 
behaviour has been a little erratic of late, therefore any welcome she 
might extend may seem somewhat strained.' 

Veronica didn't respond immediately, but the long intake of breath and
the fact that her face was suddenly turned from him suggested there was 
something on her mind. 

'Miss Llewellyn has seemed indisposed towards me, though I do not feel I
have done anything to sour her attitude,' Veronica said thoughtfully as 
Hambleton led the trap onto the three-mile causeway which connected the 
island to the mainland. 

This was a subject that Hambleton did not want to be drawn into; it was
part of the air of portent he thought was gathering. Whatever was 
influencing Dorothea's behaviour directly or indirectly involved the 
violinist, but her antics were certain to be curtailed by the arrival 
of her brother later that afternoon. 

Or so Hambleton thought, because when he arrived back at the castle with
Veronica he found that a surprise was waiting. 

He had collected Veronica's luggage, followed her up the castle's steep,
cobbled slope, quietly impressed with the ease and grace with which she 
negotiated what most found to be a difficult climb, when they passed 
Gibbings on the way down. Veronica moved across to greet him but there 
was just a hint of recognition beneath his long dark lashes as he 
hurried past. 

'Hambleton -' Dorothea's sharp voice resounded around the
church-nave-like entrance hall, and shortly afterwards she emerged from 
the passageway, cigarette holder between her fingers as she blasted a 
cloud of smoke and ash in their direction. 

‘Mr. Llewellyn has been further delayed Hambleton,' she said with the
merest glance at Veronica. 'He telephoned a few moments ago, there is 
an obstruction on the line – his arrival at the station will be delayed 
by at least two hours.' 

'The tide will be out,' Hambleton grimaced. 

'I am well aware of what it means Hambleton; the causeway will not be
negotiable until ten thirty this evening – however Mr. Llewellyn has 
decided not to impose on you at this hour, generously he has elected to 
book a hotel room in Berwick. You are to collect him at ten o'clock 
tomorrow morning from the Station Hotel.' She raised her head in an 
unsuccessful attempt to match Veronica's height and said stiffly, 'My 
brother sends his apologies for circumstances beyond his control; he 
trusts you will enjoy your evening.' 

'I will escort you to your room, Miss Day,' Hambleton cut in, 'following
which I will have Mrs. Simms consult with you on your dinner.' 

'Following which I should like to take a walk to fully familiarise
myself with the island,' Veronica said, her eyes engaging Dorothea's 
for several seconds. 

'I see.' Dorothea rested her arm against one of the hall's stone
pillars, blew smoke in Veronica's direction. 'It's your prerogative, 
though I should have thought you were well enough acquainted from your 
previous visit.' She leaned forward, whispered in Veronica's ear, 
'Remember what I told you, my dear you are not welcome here.' 

'Only in some quarters I suspect,' Veronica whispered back with a cool
smile, watching Dorothea's face freeze over. *                          
*                        * 

Dorothea's stance didn't so much worry Veronica as irritate her. She had
been invited as Thomas Llewellyn's guest and as such her presence 
wasn't resented in all quarters – but why had John Gibbings all but 
refused to acknowledge her return – was it on account of some hold 
Dorothea held over him? Or was he normally so shy or rude? She decided 
not, he hadn't seemed it when he'd rescued her or when she'd first 
spoken with him in the garden, their conversation only becoming stunted 
when he'd gazed at the dining room window – and seen who – Dorothea? 

And then there was Dorothea's offensive manner during their encounter on
the shore, where she'd stopped little short of labelling her a flirt. 
But she'd bit back her indignation and summoned her resolve. Dorothea 
wasn't going to dictate to her and she was going to address the problem 
with Gibbings. 

She ate alone that evening, attended by Hambleton, who in contrast to
Dorothea she found genial and affable. Looking out at the gardens, 
tranquil and colourful in the evening sun, she saw no sign of Gibbings, 
and thankfully Dorothea was either out or in her private rooms. 

Veronica thanked Hambleton and excused herself, and after freshening up
made her way down the castle slope, her long hair entwining itself 
around her neck in the breeze. Below, the sea was turquoise in the 
strong evening sunlight, and as she reached the bottom of the slope, 
turning towards the village she saw the lifeboat at its moorings along 
the shore, and a cluster of figures busying themselves around it. 

From a distance it wasn't possible for Veronica to assess whether John
Gibbings was amongst them, or even what the group's purpose was, but 
she willed that he be there and as she approached saw this was the 
case, making out his slim form amongst several washing down the hull. 

She held back for fear of disturbing him, perching on a craggy rock
behind the shingle from where she could see the crew going about their 
work, then looked in the opposite direction, towards the castle, 
sitting on its high mound of volcanic rock, and pictured Dorothea's 
brooding presence within. But she was a visitor – a guest of Mr. 
Llewellyn's and therefore in no position to confront Dorothea as well 
she might given differing circumstances – in any case to do so now 
might prejudice John Gibbings. If there was an opportunity to talk with 
him beyond Dorothea's prying eyes she would take it. 

It was some thirty minutes before the crew disbanded, most headed in the
direction of the village, but Gibbings, after bidding goodbye to 
another, began to amble in her direction, hands thrust in pockets, eyes 
on the shingle. He was almost upon her when he looked up, saw her 
sitting on the rock and froze. 

'Hello John, such a nice evening I thought I'd take a stroll -' 

'And watch me working on the lifeboat -' 

Veronica chewed lightly on her bottom lip, stared into eyes that did not
fully meet hers. 'That you presumed my attentions were solely for you 
could be deemed vanity.' 

'Why are you here then?' 

Veronica thought carefully, in truth her visit had much to do with him,
but was it indignation, resentment she saw in his eyes – and if so why? 


'At the invitation of Mr. Llewellyn – only he has been delayed, so here
I am, sitting on this rock, admiring the peace and tranquility of this 
island.' 

'Then don't let me disturb you.' 

'What makes you think you're disturbing me, won't you sit down? Room
enough for two.' She patted the rock, smiling, aware there was a 
challenge in her eyes. 

'I can't, the garden needs watering – the rainfall this morning weren't
near enough.' He made to move on, his face was impassive but his eyes 
told a different story. 

'Then I'll join you if you don't mind, I could do with the company. I
feel somewhat isolated without Mr. Llewellyn's presence.' 

'No, I don't need company,' his reply was rough, harsh, 'and I can't
understand why you're taking this interest in me.' 

'I've already told you that; because you saved my life -' her tone was a
little stronger than she'd intended so she dropped it a touch, 'and 
because I think you've got a problem -' 

'So you don't just play the violin – you're a clairvoyant,' Gibbings
said as he walked away, the sudden sophistication of his speech both 
amusing and surprising her. 

She watched him go, without another word, but she saw something else –
from the castle window facing the village, high up, a shadow moved. 
Just a fleeting glimpse, but someone had been watching. 


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