Page 34 of Secrets and Seashells at Rainbow Bay
I’ve walked down to the village quite a number of times since we arrived at the castle and on each of those occasions I’ve been struck by two things – firstly, how much the castle looms over the tiny village of Chesterford, and secondly, the esteem in which the villagers seem to hold it.
Everyone I come into contact with greets me in a friendly manner. News hadn’t taken long to spread that there was someone new at the castle, and the villagers were obviously keen to find out just who I am, and what plans I have for Chesterford.
I’ve made a promise to them all that I will do my best to live up to my ancestors’ name, and that I will provide lots of new jobs and visitors to the area once we are up and running properly.
I think some of them believe me. But I can tell a few are a bit doubtful.
In addition to my concerns about the castle and Benji, I’ve also been extremely anxious about Charlie starting his new school. I’ve put him through so much upheaval in the last few months and I’m worried that asking him to fit into yet another new environment might be one move too far.
And to be honest, I wasn’t just worried about Charlie on his first day at Chesterford Primary School. I was nervous about how the other parents would be with me, too.
It’s difficult enough trying to fit in with the ‘playground parents’ when you are a regular mum bringing your child to a new school, but now I was what most of the villagers saw as ‘the lady of the manor’ I feared it might be nigh on impossible. I certainly didn’t want Charlie’s relationships with his classmates to suffer as a result of how people perceived me.
So as I walked Charlie down the hill towards his school that first day I’d felt extremely self-conscious (I’d secretly changed my outfit three times before we’d left the castle).
‘You all right, Mum?’ Charlie had asked as I gripped his hand far too tightly. ‘You seem worried.’
‘Me? No! I’m just a bit nervous for you, that’s all – it’s your first day in a new school, it’s another big challenge for you, isn’t it?’
‘I’ll be fine,’ Charlie had replied matter-of-factly. ‘Been there, done that before.’
‘Aren’t you even a little nervous?’ I’d asked, hoping this wasn’t simply bravado on his part.
‘Nah, not really. I think you might be, though.’ He’d looked perceptively up at me. ‘You’ll be fine,’ he’d said, reversing our roles. ‘Just be yourself, Mum, and people will forget where we live and who we are.’
My heart had melted as I’d squeezed his hand. ‘I hope you’re right, Charlie. Ireallydo hope you’re right.’
And to my amazement he had been. Just as easily as Charlie had slipped into his new classroom and been welcomed by his classmates, the other mothers and a couple of the fathers had gone out of their way to welcome me too.
So now when I walked Charlie the short distance to and from school, I always tried to go that little bit early so I had time to have a quick chat with anyone that wanted to speak to me. Charlie, to my immense relief, appears to be just as happy at his new school as he is in his new home.
All of the castle staff have taken Charlie under their wing in their own way – Arthur has taught him about the history of the castle, which Charlie loves. Joey shows him how to do practical stuff like gardening and DIY. Dorothy lets him help with her baking, and Tiffany just seems to make him giggle. It’s like having permanently on-call babysitters; I don’t have to worry about what Charlie is up to when he’s here in the castle, because I always know he’s being well looked after.
It’s only Tom that Charlie is a little awkward with. He still seems to see him as some sort of hero after he ‘rescued’ him from the tower. Tom tries super hard with Charlie, but Charlie seems adamant that Tom must be revered, while he’s happy to accept everyone else as his friends – including Chester the dog, from whom Charlie is inseparable when he’s at the castle.
One of the best things about Charlie being so preoccupied, whether at school or at home, is that he hasn’t mentioned Ruby in a long time.
I haven’t heard any further odd sounds either. Bill seems happy enough working away in the stables; he certainly hasn’t mentioned anything untoward about being there. So I’m beginning to wonder if I might have imagined ever hearing anything at all.
*
This morning I’m on my way to the office. I dropped Charlie off at school a little while ago, and now I’m off to catch up on any castle correspondence and, more likely, on any bills.
My now-familiar route takes me along a lengthy corridor that holds some of the rooms that are open to the public. Occasionally I might actually witness people wandering around them too. Our visitor numbers are starting to grow; I suspect a lot of the increase is due to people from the village coming to have a nose at what’s going on in their castle, or to check out the new ‘Lady Chesterford’, as I still kept being called. But after the last disastrous time, I’ve learned not to approach visitors unless they approach me first, in which case I’m always polite and as helpful as I can be. But I do often try to eavesdrop in case I can hear anything that might be helpful to us in the future.
Today as I pass by the Blue Bedroom – a lovely ornate room with an original four-poster bed and some pretty Georgian furniture – I’m sure I can hear someone moving around in there.
I look at my watch.That’s early for a visitor, I think,it’s barely 9 a.m. Actually, wait, it’s a Monday – we’re closed to visitors on Mondays. So whoisin there?
I hesitate at the entrance, and then stick my head around the door. But I see no one.
That’s strange, I’m sure I heard something.
Happy there’s no one there I turn away, but then I hear it again, and this time there’s laughter.
I turn back towards the room again.
‘Hello, who’s there?’ I ask, wondering if someone is in the little dressing room that leads off the main bedroom. I walk hesitantly across the room towards the dressing-room door, but it’s gone quiet again now. I turn the door knob and open the door purposefully to confront any intruder, but the room is completely empty.
