Page 31 of Secrets and Seashells at Rainbow Bay
I think about this for a moment.
‘Do you mean reincarnated?’
‘Yeah, that too. I could tell you all about that if you like?’
‘I think I’ve learned plenty for one night, thank you, mister. Perhaps we can continue this another time when my mind is just that little bit more open.’
Thirteen
A week later I’m walking through the castle grounds on my way to speak to a builder who’s here to give us a quote on our proposed new café and gift shop.
I’m keen for both Dorothy and Tiffany to be involved in these new projects from the start, so I’ve asked them to meet me on the proposed site so we can put forward all our ideas together.
At the second group meeting we’d had to discuss the castle’s renovations, Arthur had poo-pooed every one of our initial ideas, so I had purposely left him out of today’s discussions. When it comes to dragging this castle into the twenty-first century, I only want people involved who are enthusiastic and positive about the future of the castle, and Arthur, lovely though he is, seems determined to bring everything down.
Joey, at the same meeting, had made the huge mistake of wondering out loud whether three women should be left alone with a builder to make ‘technical’ decisions. The sentence had barely left his lips when he’d immediately been hit by a barrage of protests and derision from the females around the table, which I noticed Tom had found most amusing.
‘I can’t believe you said that, mate,’ I heard him commenting to Joey afterwards. ‘You should have known they’d lynch you.’
‘Didn’t think, did I?’ Joey had grimaced. ‘Opened me mouth before me brain had a chance to stop me.’
Since that moment, Dorothy, Tiffany and I had formed a tight little alliance, and we were more determined than ever to make this new project a success.
I’m the first to arrive in the outbuildings we’ve chosen for our renovations. Originally this area in the outer bailey had been used to defend the inner part of the castle – the inner bailey. Although he might not have approved, Arthur had been keen to inform me what this area had been used for in the past. Apparently, this part of the castle would have held domestic buildings – workshops, livestock stalls and possibly even some servants’ quarters. Arthur said there had even been talk of the castle having its own brewery here, but the area we are hoping to transform – two large buildings – had originally been used as stables.
While I wait for the builder to arrive, I look around at the inside of the old structure.
It doesn’t look much like a stable any more, the walls – still pretty solid – are just plain stone bricks and the uneven floors are made up of colourful flagstones in varying shades of grey through to terracotta. The room I’m in now – the proposed tea room – is surprisingly bright and airy; it currently has quite a few glassless windows that will hopefully allow sunlight to stream through if our plans come to fruition. I’m convinced it will make a lovely area for visitors to enjoy a cup of tea and a scone. And if they wander through to the next room – the proposed gift shop – to buy a few souvenirs of a day they will hopefully want to remember, they’ll find a room with no windows, but one that will make an ideal place to display our new gift stock over its many solid walls. And it’s from that room that I now hear distant footsteps, so I assume that either Tiffany or Dorothy must have arrived before me.
‘I’m in here!’ I call, expecting to hear one of their voices reply.
But instead there’s silence.
I listen again and once more hear footsteps.Actually no, I think, listening hard with my head tipped to one side,that’s more like the sound of hooves trotting over the cobbles. I hurry through to the next room, but find to my surprise that it’s empty.
Okay, that was a bit odd. How could there be the sound of horses’ hooves if there aren’t actually any horses in here?
Suddenly, from the corner of my eye, I see something move. I turn swiftly, but not rapidly enough to see what it is – and there’s the same noise again: the sound of clip-clopping on the stone floor, as though someone is just preparing to take a horse out for a ride.
‘Who’s there?’ I ask timidly into the dimly lit room. ‘Come on, who’s playing a joke on me? Is it you, Arthur? I know you don’t like this idea, but this is going a bit far, isn’t it?’
But there’s no reply.
I nearly jump out of my skin when at last I do hear a voice. But then I realise this is a very real voice belonging to a very real body. ‘Hello,’ it says again. ‘Am I in the right place? Are you Lady Chesterford?’
‘Ah,’ I say with relief, turning to the voice. ‘You must be Bill?’ I walk quickly across the flagstones to greet a friendly-looking, middle-aged man wearing jeans and a checked shirt. I reach out my hand to shake Bill’s, and notice it’s trembling a little. ‘Sorry about that. Yes, I’m Amelia Chesterford – we spoke on the phone. If you don’t mind, though, I prefer to dispense with formalities,’ I tell him in a voice that I hope sounds convincing. ‘So please call me Amelia.’
Bill looks a little hesitant at my request, but nods anyway.
‘You didn’t happen to see someone riding a horse on your way in, did you?’ I ask, still feeling a little unnerved.
‘Er, no,’ Bill says, looking at me oddly. ‘I don’t think so. Only a guy on a ride-on-lawnmower cutting the grass – hardly the same thing, though.’
I smile. ‘No, indeed.’
‘Helloo!’ I hear Dorothy’s voice just outside. ‘Anyone there?’
‘We’re in here, Dorothy,’ I call back. ‘We’ll come to you.’
