Escape to Honeysuckle Hall

by Rebecca Raisin

  ‘Let me show you the rooms,’ I say, worried about why the man is so silent. Shouldn’t he be making notes, taking pictures, sketching plans? ‘There are ten rooms I plan to use, all in varying sizes from singles to family-size suites. They don’t need much, just weather-proofing, some windows replaced. Fresh paint. The other rooms won’t be for campers, not at this stage, but I’d like them to be freshened up and ready anyway, even though I won’t be furnishing them yet.’ The hall is a rabbit warren with so many chambers leading out of other rooms. Once upon a time it was built for a noble family with plenty of space for the court and their retinue.

  Leo wanders around, and it’s all I can do to stop a running commentary to make up for his silence. Maybe he’s just a man of few words …

  ‘Hello, darling!’ Esterlita struts in as if all the world is a stage, and her booming voice startles us both. She holds out a hand to Leo and I notice she’s somehow managed to put on mascara and a swipe of some kind of peach lipstick. The air smells suspiciously like my perfume. ‘I’m sure the lovely single and ready to mingle Orly has told you all she needs …?’

  Colour races up my cheeks and when Leo turns to her I shake my head urgently for her to stop! Cease and desist, I say with my eyes! Of course, my manic laser-like stare goes completely unnoticed by her.

  ‘Hey, Esterlita. Erm, yeah, she’s given me a bit of a run-down.’

  ‘Fabulous, marvellous,’ Somehow Esterlita now has a plummy English accent and I wonder if she got too close to the paint pots or something. She does have a slightly crazed look about her, but maybe this is what happens when she’s in the presence of gorgeous men. ‘It’s so lovely to see you again, Leo. Word is, you’re still resolutely single too. Don’t want to waste your prime time, do you?’ She flutters her lashes and makes quite the spectacle of herself.

  Leo lets out nervous laughter and pastes on a wooden smile. ‘No, I guess not.’

  Her eyes go wide as if Leo’s just invited her to delve into his love life so I hastily jump back into the conversation.

  ‘Anyway,’ I shoot her one last withering look. ‘If you could draw up a quote with a price and an estimation of how long repairs would take that would be great. I’d like to have this place open by August, if I can. If we can tee up a finish time, then I can take bookings and make the first camp a reality.’

  At this Leo’s face dissolves into the first real smile. It transforms him somehow. ‘I love the idea of an adventure camp. What sort of things will you do here?’

  He seems more interested in the camp than his job but then I suppose how excited can you get about banging nails into things? ‘All sorts! It’s about leaving technology and work-life stress behind and reconnecting with nature while trying new things. There will be abseiling, canoeing, gorge scrambling, gardening—’

  Esterlita makes a choking sound, as if the idea is abhorrent. ‘Orly should just settle down with a husband. The camp idea is crazy – a huge waste of time and money. Don’t you think?’ She tries to get Leo onside. ‘A cash drain! A pound pilferer, even. What she needs to do is find a suitable husband and fill the hall with expensive furniture and lots of babies. Now, Leo—’

  I quickly interrupt. ‘What do you think of the idea, Leo?’

  He grins. ‘I honestly think the camp idea is golden. It’s something I’d do for a fun weekend away and I live here. People need this kind of downtime, and it’ll be a great opportunity for them to meet others and try new things.’

  I glow from the praise. Finally, someone who gets it. ‘Thanks, Leo, I want to show off the local area too. I’ll offer hiking—’

  Esterlita interjects with a scoff. ‘No one wants to hike here; be realistic, Orly. The woodlands are a labyrinth. You’ll end up with a lawsuit on your hands!’

  ‘I know some safe trails,’ Leo says gently as if not wanting to oppose Esterlita but also not wanting to give in to her either. ‘I can show you them.’

  ‘Great,’ I say, smiling at him.

  ‘So what else will you offer?’

  ‘Oh, I have so many ideas! I’m thinking about paintballing, meditation, astronomy, mountain biking. Eventually we’ll expand into workshops, but for now the focus will be movement and nourishment.’

  Part of me needs to right some wrongs after years of helping the mega-wealthy procure their every need with no mind about carbon footprints so large Big Foot himself would be running scared. ‘Our camps will have a green component, planting trees, helping out in the community garden and living as waste-free as possible. Guests can cook hearty meals with produce from the garden and eat together and bond.’ It’ll take some time for all these dreams to come to fruition …

  Leo’s dazzling blue eyes shine as the idea of the camp takes shape. ‘You’re on to a winner here, Orly, seriously. I’m even happier that the hall gets to be rejuvenated and enjoyed by so many people after sitting abandoned so long. I’d love to try some yoga, take a bike ride …’

  My turncoat mind pictures a shirtless Leo in the lotus position. I shake the vision away. ‘You’d be most welcome to join!’

  ‘Thanks. I’ll definitely keep it in mind. That’s if you don’t fix it up and decide to flip the property after all. We’ve had a few big-city people do just that with other grand places. I guess they found it hard to leave city life behind for good.’

  Do I detect a slight prickliness to Leo? As if I’m wasting his time if I decide to pack it all in and leave? ‘I won’t be flipping the property, Leo. You might have had other city dwellers come and go, but I’m sure they had their reasons. However, I’m here for more than just the business; I’m here for the lifestyle too.’

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so doubtful.’

  ‘Not at all.’

  The townspeople of Eden Hills seem to be a close bunch and they all want to see their town thrive. But I have the distinct impression I won’t be let into the fold until they trust me.

  Esterlita waggles her eyebrows behind the poor carpenter and I can only imagine what plans are afoot in her devious mind. She can change mood in an instant if a man is involved.

  ‘Let me get this quote back to you within a week and we can go from there. Because time is of the essence I can hire a few extra guys and get the work done faster if you’re happy with that?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  I say goodbye to Leo and Esterlita walks him out, somehow managing to snake both her arms around him as if she’s worried he’ll dash off into the sunset. I dread to think what she’s whispering to the poor guy. The Firecracker is next-level at the game of flirtation and I have to admire the woman. I sneak to the window to spy, pulling the dingy drapes to one side. I splutter as a century’s worth of dust swirls in the air, producing a sneezing fit that I’m glad no one is around to witness. As I let the drapes go and stand away from the window, a scrunched-up piece of paper falls to the floor.

  A relic from the past. Could it be a treasure map, a love poem, a letter that belongs to an envelope I might have in my collection?

  As I gently unwarp the parchment I gasp as the words become clear.

  You don’t belong here.

  Another one? It feels personal, somehow, but how can it be? It was probably hidden away decades ago and not intended for me. But the hair on my arms stands on end. Could it be because the handwriting is block letters, and not cursive like you’d expect from a finishing school? And that the paper doesn’t look all that yellowed even though it’s been sitting in a window? Is someone trying to scare me off?

  Esterlita has openly admitted she doesn’t like the idea of the camp but I doubt it’s her leaving these scribbled notes. She’s too open and honest for all that. Too forthright and friendly. I don’t dare ask her though, knowing she’ll turn my question into a monologue about why I need a husband to protect me. A big strong man to frighten away invisible enemies and concentrate on making babies instead!

  That’s it. I’m officially losing it. Still, I waste no time and leave the hall for the safety of t
he cottage. I double-check this note against the others, and confirm it’s the same handwriting. I place the note in my book chest along with the others and the black and white photograph and ponder the fact someone may just want me gone from here. But why?

  In the quiet of the cottage, I take out one of my collector’s folders and begin reordering my stamps in the hopes it will soothe me. I’ve just had a few big weeks and I’m bound to be feeling out of sorts …

  Chapter 9

  The next day I track through the mud, the weather going from humid to stormy over the course of the morning. Good for the garden, I tell myself, as I video-call Maya hoping to catch her between patients. Her face appears on screen and gives me a boost.

  ‘Orly, I’ve missed you!’ she says, smiling wide. ‘Let me guess, you’ve made friends with a ghost who has turned nasty and you want me to visit so we can perform a séance?’

  ‘What? No! I know not to mess around with the supernatural!’ But her joke has reminded me of the notes I’ve been finding around the place and I hesitate, wondering if I should confide in her or not. But she’s already worried about me, and I don’t want to make it worse.

  ‘What is it?’ she says. ‘You’ve gone deathly white.’

  ‘That’s because I’m exercising,’ I say, puffing and panting as my feet get stuck in the mud.

  ‘Of your own accord?’ She frowns as if truly perplexed by such a thing.

  ‘Hush your mouth.’

  So I’m not big on moving my body! It’s just so arduous, but walking I can handle. ‘This is the new and improved Orly 2.0. I’m taking you for a stroll through the woods, so you can see how wonderful my vast new empire is.’ And to try and convince her to come and visit.

  ‘You have signal out there? I’m impressed!’

  I laugh. ‘Well, I’m not going into the woods per se, just close to the woods so I don’t lose the connection. Plus the thick dense trails creep me out.’ I’m sure I’ll be fine when I learn how to navigate the trails but until then I’ll stick with walking the perimeter.

  ‘Look at you go! The new Orly taking the reins of her life. I love it.’

  I catch my breath before replying. ‘I sure am! I’ve never slept so well. That’s down to all the physical labour too. I crash out at night, and sleep like the dead. Anyway, let me show you around.’ I change the angle on the screen so Maya can enjoy the stunning view, greenery as far as the eye can see, colourful flowers dotting the landscape. A stray chicken.

  ‘Is that a chicken?’ Maya asks.

  ‘Aww, he must be lost!’

  ‘You have to reunite him with his owner,’ Maya says. ‘Poor little mite.’

  ‘I don’t know anyone who owns chickens around here though.’

  ‘Well, the first thing will be catching him, I suppose. Prop me up against a tree so I can watch.’

  Sounds simple enough. ‘He’s so cute with his orange plumage!’ I prop up the phone against the trunk of a felled tree. ‘Operation save the chicken is underway.’ I crack my knuckles in readiness to impress Maya with my newfound outdoorsy skills.

  The chicken stops and stares at me with what I’m guessing is a loving look as far as chickens go. I mean, he seems to be frowning, but can chickens smile? He’s probably starving and knows I’m his saviour come to rescue him from the evils of the woodland. From the many predators just a few steps away.

  ‘Come here, little fella.’ I hold out my hand like I have food, and he darts forward, nipping me with his beak. ‘ARGH!’

  ‘What happened?’ Maya asks.

  But there’s no time to respond. The chicken goes absolutely bloody cuckoo and starts circling me, and hammering me with the point of his beak. For a little mite he sure packs a punch. I jump, I dash, I run and in the end I curl into a ball, screaming, ‘Help! HELP ME!’

  ‘Flipping heck, Orly, are you OK?’

  I peek through my fingers, my heart hammering, and whisper, ‘Is he gone?’

  ‘Who, the chicken?’

  ‘Yes, the chicken! Who else would I be talking about?’

  ‘God, I thought someone attacked you the way you were hollering!’

  ‘The bloody chicken attacked me, Maya. And I tell you what, I don’t care who he belongs to, he’s going to make a mighty fine roast dinner!’ As though he hears the threat he flies towards me, squawking, so I drop into a ball and screech again, ‘OK, OK, no roast dinner! I’m SORRY!’

  And with that he disappears and I sag in relief.

  ‘That was one crazy fowl!’ Maya says laughing so hard she’s crying. ‘Oh, Orly, that was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen!’

  I limp back to the phone, and snatch it up. ‘I’m not in London, anymore, Toto, am I?’

  ‘You bloody well aren’t! Oh, if only I had recorded that, whenever I’m down I’d watch it and be guaranteed a laugh. Are you bleeding?’

  I check my many injuries. ‘Yeah, a fair bit. Maybe he hit an artery, the little devil.’

  ‘An artery, Orly? Not that you’re prone to exaggeration or anything!’

  ‘OK, maybe it’s not quite artery level bleeding but it must be whisper close. Plus, I really hate the sight of blood. I don’t know how you work with it all day.’

  She laughs. ‘Well, use that first aid kit I got for you when you get back to the cottage. Make sure you clean the wounds well.’

  ‘Yes, doctor.’

  ‘I wonder who the chicken belongs to?’

  ‘He’s wild, I think – is there such a thing as wild chickens?’

  ‘Golly, who knows. Maybe you should adopt him?’

  ‘No way in the world. Once they taste blood, that’s it, isn’t it? They turn feral.’

  ‘Isn’t that dogs, Orly?’

  ‘I have no idea.’ I shrug as I stagger home as if I’ve just done ten rounds with Muhammad Ali himself.

  ‘So aside from homicidal chickens, how’s it all going there?’

  ‘Well, apart from me bleeding from many, many puncture wounds, I’ve never felt better. Yeah, sure, I might need about a hundred plasters and a few paracetamol, but hey, look at all the fresh air I’m breathing! Look at my curvy body enjoying exercise!’

  ‘You look fabulous, darling, and you sound like you’re having the time of your life, so what aren’t you telling me?’

  Maya can always see straight through me. But if I tell her about the notes, she’ll either say I’m losing my mind, or she will say the place is dangerous. So I think of another problem. ‘Oh, it’s just a little lonely in the evenings, that’s all. I’m so busy during the day – there’s plenty to do and see – but when night falls, it’s so quiet, and it’s so pitch-black, like I’m the only person on the planet. It’s just different, and I guess will take some getting used to.’ The inkiness of night is an oddity to me: it’s like I can see for miles and see nothing at the same time. It’s those few hours where I have too much time to think, and doubt creeps up on me. At first it was a novelty, but now I find it downright lonesome.

  ‘It sounds like you need to find something to keep you occupied in those few hours of solitude,’ Maya says. ‘Why don’t you reorder your stamps?’

  ‘Yeah, they always calm me down.’ But in truth, I’ve reordered them so many times, I’m sure the folders sigh when I open them as if saying: leave us be.

  Maybe I should try karaoke? Esterlita dropped me off a machine a while back, claiming I’d need to practise for the annual Eden Hills singing contest, which of course I have no intention of entering.

  A bleeping sound interrupts our chat. ‘Go save lives,’ I say as Maya’s buzzer reaches the full crescendo.

  ‘Will do and put some antiseptic on those wounds and call me if you start to feel unwell.’

  ‘Yes, doctor.’ I salute.

  Later that evening, feeling down, I pull out the karaoke machine and plug it in. I shake my head when I see it comes complete with a disco ball that projects brightly coloured lights over the ceiling as if I’m in a nightclub or something.

  Este
rlita has it all set up with her favourite songs so I start with Celine Dion’s ‘My Heart Will Go On’. I belt out those lyrics as if the ship is going down, and it’s my very last long song to Leo. The actor, not the carpenter but I can’t help it, I can only picture my own Leo from small-town Kent, so I sing my heart out to him, knowing I’m in the safety of my own cottage and no one can see me dance and better yet, hear me sing!

  There’s something quite heartening about performing for oneself and I wonder if I’ve missed my calling as a singer or if it’s the amount of wine I’ve consumed? All that singing and dancing zaps me so I decide to throw myself in the steaming-hot shower and wash the day away. I turn on the shower and undress before stepping into the stall. As I go to close the curtain behind me, I see a spider on the shower head that is so big it virtually blocks out the light. It’s so close I can make out every one of its eight beady eyes and what I read in those are villainy plain and simple. Before it can pounce on me with the sole purpose of injecting venom, I let out a bloodcurdling scream and make a run for it.

  My heart beats wildly as I replay the sight of the hairy arachnid that had been only a breath away from launching itself at me! My skin crawls, like actually crawls, and I panic about what to do. I need to remove him before he hides somewhere and jumps out when I’m least expecting it. I’m sure I saw a big bug catcher in the Honeysuckle Hall storage room so I race outside to find it. If he crawls away, I’ll never be able to sleep! It’s only when the cold hits me I remember I’m naked.

  There’s no time to concern myself with such a folly because I need to get back to the creature as fast as possible. When I run straight into a cobweb, I let out another scream and wonder if this is some elaborate prank from the universe to warn me off the place too! I run in a loop, flinging my arms all over the place to avoid any more cobwebs and let out a high-pitched wail in order to scare any other beasts away.

  ‘Orly, what on earth are you doing?’

  Holy mother of tarantulas! I uselessly try to cover myself with my hands. ‘Oh, Es! Jeez! I was er … running under the moonlight because Mercury is in retrograde and it’s the best time to do it!’