The Murder Mystery Party (Part 3)

 

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Jarrett’s voice faded but the word dead seem to echoed.

A man, wearing a simple black mask, pushed forward from the crowd, calling out, ‘I’m a doctor, let me through!’ He reached the first step of the grand staircase and turned to look back at us, ‘I am sure everything will be fine,’ he said calmly.

‘Fine!’ Jarrett shouted, ‘she is dead, I tell you, look!’

He ran downstairs, stopped four from the bottom and showed us all his blood stained hands. There was a shocked gasp from the crowd.

A woman cried out and fainted, far to my right, a few people caught her. Voices whispered, fading in and out. I didn’t catch what any of them were saying clearly. I could see the worry, disbelieve and shock on the faces nearest to me though. Everyone was acting really well!

A young man pushed through, he was wearing a green mask just around his eyes. He spoke out, ‘I shall assisted you, Doctor Guilford!’

‘Thank you, Kingsley,’ the Doctor said, with a nod.

‘Let me through,’ a man’s voice called from somewhere at the back, ‘I am Chief Inspector Macklain! What has happened here?’

He was dressed in a proper dinner suit, complete with white handkerchief in the top pocket. His mask was black but he had pulled it off to reveal a face a lot older then his years, he had seen a lot of police action. His hair was thin with too much worrying and he had a large drooping moustache that was going grey. His dark eyes roamed the party as if seeking out the murderer all ready.

‘Louisa is dead!’ Jarrett wailed and stumbled down a step.

‘It’s all right, old boy!’ Doctor Guilford spoke.

‘I will get to the bottom of this,’ Macklain added as he came to the front of the crowd.

‘Me too!’ Am Jarrett’s younger brother, Crispin,’ a teenage male called out from the side.

He walked over and joined Doctor Guilford, Kingsley and Macklain at the bottom of the stairs. I noticed he was dressed differently from the other men. He was wearing white trousers, a red and white pinstriped jacket, a red bow tie and a white shirt. He had blond hair and his mask was gold colored.

‘Oh, I want to help too!’ I cried, putting my hand in the air and doing a little jump.

People glanced at me then I moved forward.

‘What can you offer, madam? Are you a nurse?’ Doctor Guilford asked.

‘No, but I’m a mortician.’

A ripple of stiff laughter came from the crowd.

‘Okay, an assistant mortician, newly qualified, as some of you know,’ I added.

‘I am sure we will be fine without you,’ Macklain said.

‘No, I am helping!’

Pulling a childish face, I hitched up my dress and stomped over to the staircase. I went up, feeling everyone staring at me as if I had announced some great evil. Reaching Jarrett, I took him in. His half white half black mask was askew, his face flushed and his body shaking.

‘Led the way,’ I demanded.

Jarrett nodded and walked up the stairs, I followed and so did the men. At the top, I snatched up a sliver candelabra but found as Jarrett walked down the left corridor that electrical wall lights were on. Still, I felt the candelabra was giving me some kind of power, so I clutched on to it.

Walking by, I could see the storm was still raging outside. Rain coated the windows, the wind was howling like a wounded wolf, the thunder determined to make itself heard and the lightening strobe flashing. It felt like the perfect night for a horrible murder in a spooky castle miles away from anywhere else.

An excited but nervous chill came over me. What was going to happen next? Who would the murderer turn out to be?

Jarrett led us back to the hallway I had first met him on then off to the left, up a flight of stairs. We were all silent through this walk. At the top, he paused at the first door which was wide open.

‘I can not go in,’ he said, ‘I can not see her like that again.’

‘Stay here then,’ I said and handed him the candelabra.

Stepping into the room, I saw it was a total mess. Bedding was strewn everywhere as were clothes, books with were flung about, a few rip pages here and there, there was also glass on the floor and damp stains on the rugs. The overwhelming smell of lots of perfume hit me full in the face.

Where was the body?

I looked harder and saw on the other side of the four poster bed, the back of a limb hand, fingers curled inwards, raised up like a tried child trying to answer a question in class.

‘Do not touch anything,’ the voice of the Chief Inspector said from behind me.

I stepped to the side and let the men in. The Doctor and Kingsley walked carefully around the other side of the bed. They began speaking in low voices.

Being careful not to walk on everything, which was really hard, I joined them and stared down at Louisa.

She was laying at a strange angle, her upper body slummed against the bed frame. Her right hand was raised, blood trailing down her arm. The left arm was fallen at her side. Her eyes were open, fixed on some point ahead, a startled expression on her pale face. Her lower body was sprawled out across a scrunched up rug, her legs wide open and only one shoe on her foot. The other shoe, I spotted poking out from under a pillow.

She was wearing a dark green dress with a large bow at one side but it was blood spattered. Her blonde hair was loose about her face and the bed, there were flecks of blood on the strands. There was also a pool of blood around her left arm which when the Doctor held it up, I saw a slash across the wrist.

‘Doctor?’ Macklain asked.

I jumped a little, being so focused on the body I’d not even noticed the Chief Inspector moving to my side.

‘Her neck has been broken,’ Guilford answered, ‘her wrists cut as if to make it look like suicide. There is bruising around her throat, hand marks and also bruises to her arms.’

Macklain nodded.

I opened my mouth but the words didn’t come out. I wanted to say what a good actress Louisa was or was it a good life dummy? And also how great the murder scene had been set up but it felt all too real.

Sick rose in my stomach, I made a whispered, ‘excuse me,’ and walked out.

Standing in the hallway, I took a few deep breaths then noticed that Kendell had joined Crispin at Jarrett’s side against the wall.

‘Louisa?’ Kendell uttered.

I gave a quick shake of my head and turned away. My stomach was rolling over, ‘where’s the nearest bathroom?’

Kendell took my hand, led me down the steps, passed two closed doors then into a white bathroom.

I went to the sink, ran the tap and splashed water on my hands, arms and face. The cold water helped remove the nausea and shock. I also took a few handfuls of water to wet my dry mouth.

‘That was too real,’ I uttered, ‘she looked like a real body. I wasn’t expecting that. How did you do it?’

‘I…did not do anything,’ Kendell said stiffly, her voice still muffled by the feather mask.

I turned to her, water dripping off my face. She handed me a white towel which I used.

‘Who do you think murdered her?’ I asked, ‘wait, I’m not allowed to ask you because you probably know,’ I laughed.

Kendell looked hard at me.

‘Unless you don’t either, because you hired the actors?’

‘Actors?’ Kendell questioned, ‘there are no actors here.’

A loud knock at the door interrupted us. Kendell flung it back and the Chief Inspector was standing there.

‘I am sorry to intrude, but I need to question everyone. Please come to the dinning room now,’ he said.

‘Of course,’ Kendell answered.

Macklain turned away and she followed him. I dropped the towel on the hand rail and trailed after them. We went back the way we had come, finally down the grand staircase and into the dinning room, where I had gotten my glass of wine before. It was now gone from the table I noticed.

‘Please be seated,’ Macklain spoke.

Kendell sat down at the head of the table. I took the only other empty chair to her left. Beside me was Jarrett with his mask off, looking extreme pale and upset. He was also handsome, but now was not the time. Next to him, his brother and the rest of the chairs were filled out with other guests, all still had their masks on.

There were a few men standing around, looking at different things in the room as if they found a great interest in them. I noticed how they avoided looking at anyone else.

‘What is your name, Miss?’ Macklain questioned.

I looked at him, realised he was addressing me and replied, ‘Jane Walker.’

‘Mr Pitney says he found you wondering the hallways before his wife’s death, is that true?’

I thought for a few moments then said, ‘yes, I was lost trying to find my way down to the party.’

‘What time would this have been?’ Chief Inspector Macklain asked.

I pressed my lips together and tried to remember what my phone screen had said. The numbers wouldn’t come to me.

‘Do you recall at all?’ Macklain pressed.

‘Well, it was after seven when I arrived, I remember seeing that on my car’s clock but then when I came down to the ballroom, I heard it was almost nine. I didn’t think that much time had passed though!’

‘Yes, it was almost nine, Chief Inspector, when Miss Walker joined me,’ Kendell spoke stiffly, ‘ I can not tell you want time she arrived at.’

‘And you, Mr Pitney, what time do you think it was when you meet Miss Walker in the hallway?’ Macklain questioned.

‘It was around half past eight,’ Jarrett said gently.

Macklain rounded on me again, ‘do you remember hearing anything at that time, Miss Walker?’

I wiggled in my seat, feeling the pressure of all this questions. I didn’t realise this was going to be so intense! It was meant to be a game after all!

‘Let’s see,’ I spoke, ‘I remember hearing shouting, an argument, maybe? I followed the voices then I heard a door slam.’

‘What was the shouting about?’ Macklain shot at me.

‘I never heard any clear words.’

‘Did you see Mrs Pitney?’

‘No.’

‘Then what happened when you met Mr Pitney in the hallway?’ Macklain inquired.

‘I told him I was lost and asked if he could help me find the party. He did so,’ I answered.

‘Did you seem him again afterwards?’

‘No. He went back upstairs. I was with Kendell the whole time then, until I heard screaming and I joined everyone with going to the entrance hall,’ I explained.

Macklain paced away from me, went behind Kendell’s chair then came back again and went behind Jarrett and said in a low voice, ‘where did you go, Mr Pitney?’

‘Back to my bedroom,’ he answered, ‘I wanted to apologise to…to Louisa….’ he took a deep breathe then carried on, ‘when I got to the room, the door was open and she was…dead!’

‘What had you been arguing about, sir?’

‘Nothing! It was nothing!’ Jarrett shouted and slammed a fist into the table.

We all jumped.

‘Quiet, brother. Be calm,’ Crispin spoke and laid his hand on top of Jarrett’s fist.

Jarrett stared at me, hate in his eyes.

‘It was you,’ he hissed.

‘Me?’ I questioned, putting a hand to my chest.

‘You were jealous I was married!’

‘What? I don’t even know you!’ I responded then laughed nervously.

‘She would have had the time to go back,’ Kendell declared, ‘it would have only taken a few minutes!’

‘I? Kendell! What are saying? I had nothing to do with it!’ I cried.

‘It would have been easy for you, especially as no one knows who you are!’ Kendell exclaimed.

My next words died on my lips. I looked around the room with wild eyes.

‘What do you mean, Lady Whitwood?’ Macklain inquired.

I frowned. Lady Whitwood? Kendell’s last name was Steveson. Had she given herself a character name for the murder mystery game? Perhaps, everyone else had done to and that’s the other reason why I didn’t recognise anyone.

Kendell took a deep breath and accusingly said, ‘Miss Walker is a stranger amongst us! I did not know her when she came to the door, though she was dressed for the party. When I made inquires after her no one admitted they knew her.’

I froze, not sure what to reply to defend myself with, nor where any of this was going. I had a strange feeling that the murder mystery game had gone wrong somehow.

‘I know who she is!’ Jarrett shouted, ‘my childhood sweetheart! She followed me here, tricked her way into the party and murder my poor wife!’

Scrambling to my feet, I stood up and screamed, ‘that’s not true!’

Jarrett and Crispin also got to their feet.

‘She does sort of look like your old sweetheart,’ Crispin added, thoughtfully.

‘She is Jane Duneshaw! Arrest her, Chief Inspector! She is the murderess!’

‘No!’ I cried.

To be continued….

The Murder Mystery Party (Part 2)

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I walked into the bedroom, the light from the candelabra didn’t show me a lot. I looked for a light switch on the wall but couldn’t find one. I turned on two lamps either side of the double, four poster, red velvet curtain bed and another lamp over a little writing desk. There were other candles dotted around which I decided to light.

With that, I could see the medium size room; the bed with side tables and bedding box at the end against one wall, an empty fireplace and a small door in the wall opposite. On the left wall where the door was, stood a small oak wardrobe in the corner. On the last wall, a small window and the writing desk. The wallpaper was old fashioned flowers on a cream background and the floor was covered by four or five dark rugs.

I dumped my stuff, took off the masquerade mask and went to the little door. Opening it, I walked in and found a tiny bathroom. There was a sink with a mirror above it, toilet and a small bath. It would do for two or three nights. I wasn’t a fan of baths though so maybe I could find a bigger bathroom with a shower in it to use?

Going back into the bedroom, I started unpacking and noticed how quiet it seemed. I could hear some of the candle wicks crackling as they started burning, the wind and the rain rattling the window and myself moving stuff but I couldn’t hear the sounds of the party. Not thinking about how I was going to find my way back down the grand staircase, I got what I needed out and set the rest aside.

I looked at my phone and saw I had no signal, not even enough for an emergency call to be made. I put the phone in the small blue beaded bag I’d brought with me. I could look for signal if I needed it later, but I knew in castles it was unlikely, all that thick stone blocked out things.

Taking of my wet dress, I went to the wardrobe. Opening the door caused the wooden hangers to rattle. I grabbed one, hung my dress up then searched for a plug socket for my hair drier. I found one next to the bedside table, though I had to unplug the lamp. Switching the hair drier on, I give my hair a quick dry, I had been to the hairdressers that morning for a twenties bob style and didn’t want to mess around with it. Then I dried my dress.

Halfway through the hair drier cut out. Frowning, I checked the plug and it was still work. I shook the hair drier and spent a few minutes trying to get it back on but it was dead. Giving up, I tossed it on the bed and slipped the dress back on. Over the top, I put a paler blue cardigan on. I re-did my makeup, placed a few other things inside the bead bag, put the mask back on and was ready to go.

A rumble of thunder caused me to pause. I looked over at the window, there was only darkness and rain splatter.

‘A thunder storm?’ I spoke aloud, ‘that wasn’t forecast.’

As if in answer, a flash of lightening struck and the thunder rumbled again. I shivered and opened the bedroom door. It was pitch black and I couldn’t see. Tutting, I turned back and picked up the gold candelabra Kendell had given me. Then realising I couldn’t leave the other candles lit, I blew them out and turned off the lamps too.

Just by the glow of three candles, I began to make my way along dark corridors. The storm came into full force as I walked. I could the wind howling, making things creak and groan in the castle, rain hit the windows causing them to shake and every few minutes the thunder would rumble like the hungry stomach of a giant followed by a flash of white lightening.

Fear spiked me, vanishing all other emotions and thoughts. I tried not to think of horror movies, supernatural things and anything unsettling. I concentrated on trying to remember the way Kendell had brought me. Was it left here or right? Down or up this staircase? Passed the painting of rearing white horse or not?

I heard shouting voices and stopped. I spun about, trying to decided where they were coming from but everything echoed in the castle. A door slammed, I jumped and cried out, the noise had been so loud it must be close by!

A figure appeared, stomping down a staircase. I couldn’t see much and scared, I tried to tug myself into a doorway.

‘Who’s there?’ a man’s voice called.

I peered out at him but still could only make out his outline. He moved forward and I almost made a dash back the way I had come.

‘I’m sorry,’ he spoke softer this time, ‘I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Jarrett Pitney.’

‘Jane Walker,’ I breathed.

I stepped away from the wall and held the candelabra up. I could see him better now. He was tall man around six foot, with short black hair waxed back, the mask he wore was half black half white and came down over his cheeks, he had blue eyes and full pink, wet lips. He was wearing a black dinner suit with a white shirt, bib and black bow tie.

‘Are you lost, Miss Walker?’ he asked in a hushed voice.

‘I’m afraid so. Could you help me find the party?’

He nodded and held out his arm. I took it and without another word, he led me the correct way. A few minutes later, we were at the top of the grand staircase, the painted horses and men of the Napoleonic battle scene staring down at us.

‘You should be all right now,’ he said and dropped his arm from mine.

‘Thank you,’ I replied.

He turned and walked back the way we had come, the darkness swallowed him. I wondered how he knew the way without any light. Maybe, he knew the castle well? The sounds of music and voices drifted up to me.

I walked down the staircase and found that some of the doors leading off from the entrance hall where now open. Light was pooling everywhere and I could smell warm food and burning wood.

Putting the candelabra down on a table, I walked to the first open door and found an empty parlor. There was fire burning happily in the fireplace in the opposite wall, plush armchairs and two seater sofas were scattered about waiting to be used. I tried the next room and found six chairs around a circular table that was set up for afternoon tea. Another fireplace was light, on both sides of which where bookcases and portraits on the walls.

Stepping out, I followed the distance voices towards the back, behind the grand staircase. There I walked through double doors and found myself in a ballroom. A handful of people were walking about, only two couples were dancing and there was a small orchestrate on a stage in the far corner. The air smelt of fire smoke, winter spice and flowery perfume.

All the men were wearing fancy evening suits. The young women were in twenties flapper dresses and the older women more modest dresses. I looked down at my costume and decided it just fitted in. Staring into the ballroom again, there was no one I recognised but then it was hard with everyone wearing masks.

Feeling better, though wondering where everyone else was, I spotted Kendell in her white frilly dress and swan feather mask off to one side near a glass door. She was talking with a man in a blue dinner suit and both had wine glasses in their hands.

Thinking I could do with a drink, I looked around but saw no table or bar or waiter in which to get one from. So, I crossed the room and went to Kendell. As I neared I caught some of their conversation.

‘I did not want to turn her away,’ Kendell was saying in a low voice.

‘It could spoil everything! This has never happened before!’ the man snapped back.

‘It is almost nine O’clock, it will be over soon.’

I stopped, ‘nine O’clock?’ I cried, ‘I didn’t even realise I’d been upstairs for that long!’

Kendell and the man spun to look at me but most of their expressions were hidden by the masks. The man had dark brown hair and his mask like a leering red face.

‘Are you feeling better now?’ Kendell ask.

I nodded as the man sulked off.

‘I could do with a drink though!’

‘Of course,’ Kendell uttered.

She took my hand and placed it in the crook of her arm. Before I had time to tell her how odd that was, she was leading me out of the ballroom, down a corridor and into a dinning room set for around twenty people. There was a bowl of fruit in the middle of the table, a tray of glasses and few bottles of wine.

‘Help yourself,’ Kendell stated.

‘This is odd, didn’t you hire any staff?’ I asked.

Kendell didn’t reply.

I choice a red wine, uncorked it and poured myself a glass.

‘I guess it must have cost A LOT to hire this place out!’ I said then carried on, ‘especially, on New Year’s Eve! I hope I’ve not miss much. I’ve been looking forward to this. I’ve always wanted to do a murder mystery game night and now you’ve made it happen.’

I took a few sips of the wine and turned to Kendell. She was gone.

‘Kendell?’ I called.

A long, high pitched scream echoed through the room.

Almost dropping my glass as I placed it on the table, I hurried back into the hallway. It was empty, so I dashed to the ballroom.

The scream came again, more desperate and female sounding. The ending was blocked by a loud blast of thunder.

In the ballroom, people had froze, looking towards the double doors then everyone left, talking in low voices about what could have happened. I joined the end of the group. More people came out from other rooms until about twenty-odd, maybe thirty of us were all gathered in the entrance hall.

‘This is it! The murder has happened!’ I said excitedly.

‘Murder?’ a woman’s voice said at the side of me.

I nodded and went to speak more but there came a rush of footsteps and Jarrett appeared at the top of the grand staircase.

‘She dead!’ he yelled, ‘my wife, Louisa, is dead!’

To be continued….

The Murder Mystery Party (Part 1)

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I glanced at the Sat Nav as the female voice told me, ‘you have reached your destination,’  then out of the car’s front window. There was nothing but this single track country lane and tall hedges either side.

‘I’ve not reached my destination!’ I snapped.

Driving on, I looked for any sign that I was close. In the full beam headlights, I saw a red arrow pointing onwards and words I didn’t catch.

‘Just little further then. You can do this, Jane,’ I said.

My grip on the steering wheel was tight, my knuckles had gone white a few miles back. I was praying there was nothing coming towards me. The wind was reaching gale force, I could feel the car rocking and the tops of the hedges were beginning to sway drunkenly. Rain drops splattered down once more and I put the wipers on.

The hedges dropped on my right, a tall red brick wall topped with black spikes came into view, half sheltered by trees left to grow wild. I breathed out then in, relaxed my hands and body. I moved my feet over the pedals and slowed the car down.

More wall, more trees, it seemed never ending. The wall dropped lower, the trees gone, replaced with hedge that once had been groomed into shape but was now untameable. I slowed down further, almost to a crawl, I didn’t want to miss the turning after all of this!

A large white sign; Toski Castle jutted out at me from the side view. Huge black open gates that looked like they had come straight out of Hell appeared. They were attached to giant grey stone pillars, upon which sat leering monstrous gargoyles.

I stopped the car and looked through the gates. A dark road led upwards, trees over shadowing it, there was no sign of a building. I glanced at the Sat Nav and saw the little imagine of a car driving through space with a red question mark over it.

‘There’s nothing else for it,’ I said aloud, ‘and if it’s the wrong address then maybe they can tell me the right one.’

I indicted and drove up the driveway. The full beam headlights showed over grow lawn strips on each side, bushes and trees acting as a double boarder. I went down a steep dip, over a small hill and saw a large arched gate house like bridge structure ahead. Through this which wasn’t lit up, was another two hills and the entrance way.

This structure was far grander then the little gate house, it looked like two smaller stone castle towers connect by a high arched bridge. There were glass windows in both towers, though no light shone. I wanted to stop and make it out better but I didn’t want to be any later then I all ready was.

Driving through, I came to the actual driveway of the castle. The road was clear on both sides, gravel had been laid down to create areas to park and little security lights placed low down aided in parking nicely. There were no cars. I recalled in the letter I had received along with the invitation, something about that being the over-flow car park.

I drove on, under another small bridge also sided by stone towers and into the area before the castle. This was a large square of gravel, walled in by ten foot high, large stone sides. Dim lights give hardly any chance for me to full understand the structure. I parked in the left up corner, noticing the lack of other cars.

The car’s dashboard clock told me it was almost seven-thirty PM, the party had all ready started. I looked out of the window but couldn’t make much out in the dim light. Maybe, I was in the wrong place after all? But how many other Toski Castles where in Lancashire? None that the internet had said.

I got out of the car and grabbed my things; handbag, large rucksack, suitcase and my sky blue masquerade mask. Locking the car, I walked up six steps to archway, behind which the castle rose. It was hard to tell in the darkness how impressive this place was. The photos I had seen online showed a Victorian manor house in the style of a romantic medieval castle.

Security lights lit the way but I wondered why there were no lights coming from the windows, of which there were many. Maybe, it had something to do with the spirit of the party and the curtains had all been drawn? There was just enough light to see that the castle looked like something out of an old movie. It give the imagine of having been around for hundreds years but it was only like hundred and fifty odd years old.

The ‘fake’ castle had been neglected and saved often but some parts were still crumbling. The dark walls held tales of mystery and murder, making it just perfect for my best friend Kendell’s New Year’s Eve Murder Mystery Party.

Stepping into the courtyard, I looked for any sign of party noise and movement. Perhaps, I had come to the back of the house instead of the front? Though it didn’t seem likely. I turned around and around, feeling a slight fear that the darkened windows were watching and judging me.

A security light pinged on, making me jump. I laughed it off, now seeing the courtyard clearly. There was a pathetic little fountain in the center; a stone vase tipped above a small walled pond. No water was coming out as it had been shut off for winter. The stone slabs under my feet were dark and wet with rain, which was still falling. The wind had dipped some but only because of the shelter of the walls.

There was a flight of stone steps in front of me leading to a double wooden door. I made my way up and saw a red bell rope danging down. There was a plastic covered piece of paper attached.

I reached for it and read it in the security light;

Welcome to Toski Castle, guests. Please ring the bell once and remember to put on your mask before entering!

Resting my suitcase down, I put on my mask and pulled the rope once. The sound of a bell echoed loudly.

The front door creaked open, darkness spilling out. I felt a tingle of excitement, a rush of nervous and a touch of fear. In a flash, my brain went to horror movies where lost travelers in storms find castles full of mad people and unspeakable things!

The rain suddenly pelted me and not wanting to get my ballroom styled nineteen-twenties, blue party dress any more wet, I hurried inside.

‘Hello?’ I shouted into the darkness.

A candle flickered on to my left then more appeared, even on a chandelier above and soon the whole hallway and grand staircase ahead of me was light up. Both were breath taking! The hallway was full of wood – the floor and the walls all paneled in a dark chestnut, the ceiling was painted white and decorated with a heavenly scene.

The staircase banisters were huge trunks of oak and the bottom pillars held bronze statues of half naked woman holding up old fashioned glass vase for gaslights. A red patterned and gold tasseled carpet ran up the stairs which then divided into a left and right at the top. There on that wall, was a huge painting of a Napoleonic battle scene. Men in red coats and men in blue coats fighting on horse back in a muddy landscape.

‘Wow, this is amazing! Nice trick with the candle lights,’ I added and laughed.

Music, piano and other classic instruments, started playing from some hidden room. I heard the hush of voices but couldn’t figure where they were coming from. There seemed to be too many wooden doors leading off the hallway and all were closed.

I heard the swish-swish of skirts and turned to my right. A figure emerged, in a floor sweeping, white frilly dress with a low cut chest and long sleeves. Covering most of her face was a white feather swan mask and wisps of tightly curled sliver-white hair bobbed on her head.

‘Kendell?’ I asked.

The figure stopped.

‘It’s me, Jane. Sorry, I’m so late. The bad weather and the Sat Nav…You did say the postcode might let me down!’

I smiled and in the pause heard laughter and the clicking of glasses.

‘I see,’ a muffled voice answered back, ‘come, let me show you to a room so you can refresh yourself.’

‘Oh! That would be lovely,’ I cried.

Kendell picked up the skirts of her dress in one hand and held on to the banister with her left. I collected my things and followed her up the broad staircase, half wishing her husband or somebody else, even Kendell, had offered to give me a hand with my luggage!

At the top, we turned left under the terror-stricken eyes of soldiers and horses from the painting. From a nearby table, Kendell picked up a gold candelabra and three candles flames danced in the breeze she caused. Using it to light the way,  we went up a smaller staircase and on to a dark landing.

In the dim light of the candles,  I noticed the frames of paintings, doors and windows lining both walls. I wanted to talk to Kendell but climbing those stairs had seemed to take all the energy out of me. Instead, I followed the tail of her white dress around corners, up and down stairs, until we came to a door which was slightly ajar opposite a large window box seat.

‘Here, this one is empty,’ Kendell’s muffled voice said.

‘How many people did you invite?’ I gasped, ‘we passed so many rooms!’

‘Some of them are not suitable and others are not bedrooms. You will be satisfied with this one,’ she said rather stiffly.

‘Getting into character all ready! I like it!’

Kendell huffed, shoved the candelabra into my hand and strolled off like an insulted peacock.

‘Wait!’ I called out after her, ‘I’m sorry! It’s very good!’

She turned the corner, the tail of her dress floating out and was gone.

‘Been like that then,’ I uttered under my breath, though I didn’t mean it. I was tried, cold and that wasn’t the grand entrance I had imagined on arriving.

I opened the door to the bedroom fully and went in.

 

To be continued….

Resolution

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It was all ready a week into the new year and I still hadn’t decided on any resolutions. Though as my best friend had delighted in telling me, ‘goals of the new year,’ was now the fashion. Instead of being negative and ‘giving up things,’ make what you want to do more positive. So like saying ‘this year I’m going to go on a strict diet and really going to lose this weight,’ turn it around and say ‘I’m going to buy that dress one size down to inspire me eat less everyday.’  It didn’t seem to matter to me though, they both meant the same thing.

Tapping a pen from my new stationary set on the blank piece of paper before me, I wondered why I needed to write down some yearly goals anyway. What was behind this tradition of setting these goals in a new year? Why couldn’t you write them down some other time? What if you had no goals?

I slide the piece of paper away and placed the pen on top. I folded my arms over my chest and stared at them. This year, I wasn’t going to set any goals. I was just going to live how I wanted to.

 

(Inspired by; https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/01/04/tale-weaver-153-the-new-year-4th-january-2018/ with thanks).

Postcard #41

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Dear Kay,

Thank you for your lovely letter. Sorry that I don’t have enough time to write. We have been super busy on the farm, it never stops! My prize sheep dog give birth on Christmas morning, shocking us all, but the puppies are so cute. I have already picked out the best one for you, if you want it. Then on New Year’s eve, two of the goats had kids; twins and triplets!

The weather has been bad here with heavy snow, gales and some flooding in the lower fields. There’s snow on the ground at the moment and it looks like there’ll be more soon. It really does make life harder but the scenery is prettier. So, if you fancy some snow you know where to come too!

Hope you have a great new year!

All the best, Pippa.

Post It Note #42

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New Year’s Resolution;

Eat all you want.

It’ll be harder for anyone to kidnap you ever again.

 

Dear Diary #41

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Dear Diary,

It’s the first day of a new year and everything has gone wrong all ready! This morning there was another leak in the caravan and the rain was coming down so hard there wasn’t much we could do. We just put another pan down and spent another day bailing water out of the caravan.

I’ve been huddled up in the bed, coughing my head off and sneezing for hours. I can’t get warm and I’m just so fed up. Phone signal is terrible and I don’t think they’ve heard of the internet on this stretch of coastline. I’m too tried and frustrated to read or focus on anything else. I’ve been napping then watching the rain and the wind.

Noah went out for a walk somewhere in the afternoon. He’s sick of my moaning about leaving and returning home. He thinks it’s great out here, escaping from everyone else and the madness of New Year celebrations. Really he’s the mad one! This barren campsite in the middle of nowhere isn’t anyone’s idea of ‘escaping’, no matter how much money we saved!

When he came back, soaked through and in need of new clothes and warmth, he tried to take a shower. There was no hot water! He was muttering about for ages and then give up saying this part of something had broken and he couldn’t fix it. He did though changed his clothes and make a pot of tea.

We sat in silence drinking. The rain falling so loud it was like being inside a drum. I swear I heard rumbles of thunder too. Having run out of energy to argue, he sat at the table reading and I carried on my longings out of the window. All I could think about was being home, dry and warm, tucked up in bed and knowing I wasn’t in this horrid caravan anymore!

Then Noah declared he was going to cook us some food. From the bed, I give him simple instructions and all was going well until I noticed the smoke trickling out of the oven! A lick of flame quickly followed and I just knew that all was lost.

To his credit, Noah jumped into action and some of the food was saved but the oven wasn’t. It was a good job the whole caravan didn’t set a lit! I felt a bit warmer afterwards but the smoke got too much and we had to open all the windows and go to stand in the awning.

I had coughing fit after coughing fit. Nothing seemed to stop it. Finally, half collapsed on a folding chair, I was able to get back together again. I wanted to give Noah, a piece of my mind, but I didn’t have the energy for that.

Moving back in, the caravan still smelt smokey but the air was cleaner. Noah tidied up and I got ready for bed as best I could. Then we both started settling down. The rain is still pouring and dripping through the cracks. Noah has started coughing badly too and though he blames it on the smoke, he’s coming down with the flu too.

Perhaps, in the morning I could try again to change his mind and we can go home I day early. Oh, to be in my nice bed again and not have to worry about anything! That really isn’t too much to ask for is it?

New Year’s Eve

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Standing on my best friend’s doorstep, looking up at the falling rain, I wondered how it had come to this. Another year was over and I didn’t want to let it go. So much had happened; good, bad and in-between. My mind jumped over the memories like snap shot photos and I was filled with happiness.

Sighing, I wondered how I was going to move on. It was a strange notion because nothing had actually changed nor would do in the coming weeks, expect for the dates. Why did I feel like this was such a big problem then? I rubbed my head and decided I was just being silly and I should let everything go.

The door opened behind me, party music and shouting voices drifted into the night. I turned around frowning and saw my boyfriend standing there.

‘It’s almost midnight. Come inside,’ he said.

‘No,’ I answered, ‘you come out here.’

I held my hand out and there was a moment where he almost pulled me in and I tried to pull him out. He stepped over to me and we held each other. Someone shouted out the number ‘ten,’ and other voices joined in the countdown.

Muttering the numbers under my breath, I drew my boyfriend closer and he started saying the numbers too. We were wrapped together, smiling at each other, breathing in the cold night air. Reaching ‘one,’ we kissed and welcomed in the new year.

 

 

The Year Changer

The strange contraption, mostly made out of old wheels, had sat on my grandparents’ lawn for as long as I could remember. Every time I had asked them what is was, my gran had rolled her eyes and tutted whilst my granddad had told me some wild story.

‘It’s to re-wind the year,’ granddad told me once, ‘like a time machine but it only goes back twelve months.’

‘What’s the point in that then?’ I had asked.

‘Sometimes only changing the smallest of things can make the biggest difference,’ he had answered.

(Inspired by; https://rochellewisoff.com/2017/12/27/22-december-2017 with thanks).

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The hills were cover in snow and it didn’t look as if they were going to thaw anytime soon. The bad winter the weatherman had forewarned had had us all laughing but now he was the one in fits of laughter. We had all just had enough already, England wasn’t made for this kind of thing! Still, it had been the white Christmas written into every song and pleaded for by children. To me though, it just made the coming New Year and January feel even bleaker.

(Inspired by; https://wordpress.com/post/thestoryfiles.wordpress.com with thanks).