The Thornthwaite Inheritance

by Gareth P. Jones

  ‘Yes, exactly like Adam Farthing,’ responded Ovid.

  ‘So what do you suggest?’

  ‘An alliance.’

  ‘And what would this alliance involve?’

  ‘It would involve the two of us staying strong and ensuring that no one comes along and ruins our truce.’

  Lorelli laughed. ‘Truces, alliances, I don’t know what’s come over you recently.’

  ‘But you’ll agree to it?’ asked Ovid.

  ‘I have no interest in befriending Adam Farthing but I will be civil to him. Now if you don’t mind, I’m going for a swim,’ Lorelli stated.

  .

  AVERNUS LAKE

  As a young girl, Lorelli Thornthwaite was haunted by a recurring nightmare in which she was drowning in Avernus Lake. In the dream, whenever her head was above water, she thrashed her limbs wildly in panic and desperation, but as her head went under she was overcome with a strange feeling of calm and peacefulness, as her lungs filled with water and she felt her life ebbing away.

  Whereas this dream would have given most people a terrible fear of water, Lorelli, with characteristic practicality, requested swimming lessons. Mr Crutcher decided that old Tom Paine, the gardener, was best qualified to teach her, being a strong swimmer himself.

  For weeks, Tom took Lorelli down to the shallowest corner of the lake and taught her how to swim, until one day, she said, ‘I think I’m ready now.’

  ‘Ready for what, miss?’ asked Tom.

  ‘To swim across the lake,’ replied the young Lorelli.

  ‘Excuse me miss?’

  ‘I want to swim across Avernus Lake.’

  ‘I see,’ replied Tom.

  Old Tom Paine believed that children should be treated like plants. Although feeding and tending was necessary, it was Tom’s opinion that being left to their own devices was what they required to grow properly.

  As a safety precaution he persuaded Lorelli to allow him to row alongside in case she got tired.

  As it happened, this was unnecessary. Lorelli barely even shivered as she stepped into the icy waters. Keeping her head high above the surface, she crossed the lake with the greatest of ease.

  Since then she had swum across the lake and back every day, except during the winter months when the water was too cold even for her.

  This year had been a long cold winter that had stretched its icy fingers as far as April. Not until this, the first day of the Easter holidays, was it warm enough to swim. It was a day Lorelli always looked forward to, but it was still bitterly cold, so she put on a warm coat before heading down to the lake.

  At the lakeside, she took off her coat and stripped down to her swimming costume, shivering as a cold wind blew against her exposed skin. She quickly dipped her legs then the rest of her body into the lake and instantly felt better. The coldness of the water was different somehow to that of the air. She liked it. Once fully immersed, Lorelli swam confidently across the lake.

  On her way back, she felt extremely relaxed. Listening to the lapping water in her ears and the sound of her own breathing, all thoughts and worries disappeared from her head.

  Then, as she reached the centre of the lake, she felt an icy chill spread through her body. But it wasn’t the comforting numbness from the cold water. This was different. Her arms and legs seized up entirely. As her head sank under the surface, she tried to cry out but water filled her mouth.

  Her arms and legs were useless. She tried to fill her lungs with air, remembering that this way her body was more likely to float but, without the use of her limbs, she sank helplessly into the deep water, resurfacing long enough to scream for help before slipping under once more.

  Sinking down into the depths of the lake, Lorelli didn’t see the tall fair-haired boy on the lakeside tear off his coat and dive in.

  .

  THE RESCUE

  Although Lorelli Thornthwaite prided herself on having a good knowledge of the sorts of books that were widely regarded as classics of English literature, she had also spent enough time reading trashy romances to be familiar with the etiquette of having been rescued from a near-death experience by a handsome young man.

  The heroines in those books would have gazed into Adam Farthing’s blue eyes, thrown their arms around his neck and kissed him.

  Lorelli did none these things. She sat upright on the lake shore and, once she had got her breath back, said, ‘That was very kind of you, Adam. Thank you.’

  ‘You’re welcome,’ replied Adam, matching her polite tone. ‘Why were you swimming on such a cold day?’

  ‘I swim whenever I can,’ stated Lorelli, rubbing her legs and feeling them come back to life.

  Adam helped her to her feet. Lorelli felt very aware of his arm around her waist. She wriggled free of his grip, and found the towel and clothes she had left by the shore of the lake. She dried herself and quickly dressed to get warm, handing the towel to Adam. He dried his hair but there was nothing he could do about his soaking clothes.

  ‘What happened?’ asked Adam.

  Lorelli explained the strange sensation of losing feeling in her arms and legs. ‘I can’t understand it,’ she said. ‘I’ve never had that problem before.’

  ‘Sounds like you experienced EHMS. It stands for Extreme Hypothermic Muscle Seizure.’

  ‘I’ve never heard of it.’

  ‘It’s quite common. I read about it in a medical book,’ said Adam. ‘I read lots of medical books. When I grow up, I’m going to be a doctor.’

  As they walked back to the house, a bitter wind blew and Lorelli felt sorry for Adam shivering in his damp clothes.

  ‘Fell in the lake, did you?’ said Tom Paine, who was strolling purposefully in the opposite direction, carrying his beekeeper’s hat under one arm.

  ‘Actually I jumped in,’ replied Adam.

  ‘Bit cold for swimmin’.’

  ‘He was saving me from drowning,’ said Lorelli.

  ‘Oh aye.’

  ‘I was taking a walk around the lake when I heard her scream,’ said Adam.

  ‘Lucky you were there, then,’ said Tom.

  ‘Yes, it was,’ said Adam. ‘Actually, I’m glad we’ve run into you. I was wondering whether it would be possible to take one of the horses out riding? I saw you had stables.’

  ‘They aren’t my horses, Master Farthing. You’d have to ask one of the twins for permission.’

  Adam turned to Lorelli. ‘Perhaps you could come with me. We could make a day of it and go to Little Fledgling.’

  Lorelli considered this. She remembered Ovid’s desire for an alliance against Adam, but that was before he had saved her. The thought of a trip to the village chilled her blood even more than the cold water of Avernus Lake, so she was surprised to hear herself reply, ‘All right, then.’

  .

  LITTLE FLEDGLING

  The village of Little Fledgling in the county of Hexford stood two miles south of Thornthwaite Manor, although, as local historians liked to explain, it used to be much nearer.

  In the late eighteenth century, the land was owned by Lord Milton Thornthwaite, whose portrait showed a man with deep-set eyes and skeletal cheekbones. At that time the village was situated on the far side of the apple orchard, where Avernus Lake now lay. Lord Milton detested having peasants living so near, believing them to be unclean and insolent. He charged the villagers such high land tax that the village was one of the poorest in the country. As a consequence, local boys frequently stole apples from the orchard, which only proved to Lord Milton that his low opinion of the poor was well founded.

  The thefts continued even after the introduction of public floggings, so in an act of final exasperation, Lord Milton had each house in the village knocked down and the village moved to a more suitable site on the o
ther side of the River Curtail. A deep hole was dug and Avernus Lake was made where the village had originally stood, ensuring that no future settlements could spring up so close to the orchard and the manor.

  After this, the relationship between landowner and villagers declined still further and remained poor with subsequent generations of Thornthwaites.

  Lorelli and Ovid had only ever visited the village once, several years ago. They had badgered Mr Crutcher for months to take them there. They had been very young at the time and were desperate to expand their knowledge of the world. Mr Crutcher eventually succumbed and agreed to take them on 5th November to watch the village bonfire-night celebrations.

  He couldn’t have picked a worse time. It may have been because Mr Crutcher himself rarely went into Little Fledgling that he was unaware of the local custom, peculiar to that village.

  It is common in most parts of England to burn Guy Fawkes on 5th November in remembrance of his failed attempt to blow up the Houses of Parliament, but in some parts of the country other figures are burnt. In Lewes in Sussex, effigies of the pope, as well as topical personalities, are burnt. In Little Fledgling, it had always been the tradition to burn a doll made to look like a Thornthwaite.

  And so it was that on the twins’ one and only visit to their local village they stood in a crowd of people as a life-sized figure with black-wool hair and green-button eyes was thrown on to a fire, while all around rejoiced.

  For the two young, black-haired, green-eyed twins it seemed as though they had been transported back to the Middle Ages and were watching an angry mob of witch-burners.

  For the first and last time in their lives the twins clung on to each other for protection, convinced that if they were noticed the crowd would turn on them. ‘Shall I take you home now?’ Mr Crutcher said before leading them through the crowd and driving them back down the road, over Beryl’s Bridge and to the safety and sanctuary provided by Thornthwaite Manor. Both twins cried all the way home.

  The next day, Lorelli narrowly avoided being killed by a stray arrow, while Ovid was practising his archery skills, and Ovid nearly met his end when some exceptionally poisonous berries found their way into his porridge.

  Life was back to normal.

  .

  THE INVENTORY

  Many twins claim to have a telepathic connection. They say that while one is experiencing an emotion such as joy or misery, even if they are separated, the other feels it too.

  Ovid and Lorelli had never felt any such connection. Usually the opposite was true. While one was experiencing pain or discomfort, the other was generally having an extremely good time, often having been the cause of their sibling’s distress. Like the time that Lorelli accidentally consumed a rare tropical poison, while Ovid was in the hothouse, happily tending his collection of rare tropical plants.

  However, unbeknown to either twin, at the exact same time that Lorelli lost the ability to swim, Ovid felt dizzy and had to sit down in the corner of the portrait room, while the sensation passed.

  Ovid was sitting so quietly that Mr Farthing failed to notice him as he entered. The large lawyer walked across the room. He stopped in front of the portrait of Ovid’s parents and stared at it.

  ‘Is that part of the inventory?’ said Ovid, feeling energy return to his limbs.

  ‘What? Who’s that?’ Mr Farthing sounded startled. He turned and Ovid could see that his face was wet. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped away his tears. ‘Ovid, my dear boy, you almost scared me to death.’

  ‘Why are you crying?’

  ‘Lord and Lady Thornthwaite died around the same time as my dear wife and it brings it all back. Grief is a terrible thing.’

  ‘I see. Shouldn’t you be busy with your inventory?’ Ovid was uncomfortable with Mr Farthing’s sudden display of emotion.

  ‘Yes, well, this is all part of the process. Everything must be accounted for,’ replied Mr Farthing, sounding flustered. He opened his briefcase, accidentally spilling its contents on the floor. Kneeling down to pick up the bits of paper, he asked nervously, ‘Were you spying on me?’

  ‘Should I be?’ replied Ovid.

  For a moment the lawyer seemed taken aback with Ovid’s question. ‘Well, no. I must get on with my job,’ he said, the anger in his tone taking Ovid by surprise. The lawyer smiled apologetically. ‘I am sorry to have snapped. I realise you are merely curious, but I must assure you that it is all very routine. They bring in these new rules all the time that make more work for us and I don’t know who benefits. Take my advice, when you grow up, don’t become a lawyer.’

  ‘I have no intention of doing so,’ said Ovid, leaving Mr Farthing alone in the portrait room.

  .

  THE NURSE

  Nurse Griddle had a large nose with such cavernous nostrils that Lorelli and Ovid often wondered whether she was actually capable of smelling illness. She certainly had a knack of turning up whenever there was something amiss with one of them.

  A tall woman with short hair and broad shoulders, she was remarkable in that as long as the twins had known her, she had never once smiled. Never out of politeness, nor out of sympathy. Not with compassion, nor with amusement. Smiling was not something she did.

  As the sodden Lorelli and Adam approached the mansion, Nurse Griddle flung open the door, took one look at them and said, ‘You will both come with me now.’

  Lorelli whispered to Adam, ‘It’s best to do as she says.’

  They followed Nurse Griddle inside and down the stairs to the windowless room in which rows of shelves were lined with medicines, lotions, bandages, plasters, pills and medical books.

  Nurse Griddle picked up two sterile thermometers and thrust them into Lorelli and Adam’s mouths. Adam tried to take his out but Nurse Griddle stopped him. She grabbed a towel from a drawer and gave it to him to keep warm.

  ‘You have both been swimming in that lake,’ she said. ‘I have come to expect such madness from Lorelli, but I am surprised at you, Adam Farthing. Mrs Bagshaw said you were a sensible young man.’

  With thermometers in their mouths, neither Adam nor Lorelli were able to respond.

  ‘That lake is far more dangerous than it looks,’ continued Nurse Griddle. ‘It has taken its fair share of lives over the years and it wouldn’t think twice about taking yours.’

  She whipped out the thermometers. ‘Well,’ she said, examining them, ‘you both seem all right. What have you to say for yourselves?’

  ‘It wasn’t Adam’s fault,’ said Lorelli. ‘I was swimming across when my arms and legs froze stiff. I don’t know why . . .’

  ‘Froze stiff?’

  ‘Adam said it sounded like EHMS,’ said Lorelli.

  ‘Extreme Hypothermic Muscle Seizure,’ said Adam.

  ‘Never heard of such a thing,’ said Nurse Griddle.

  ‘I read it in a medical book. I’m going to be a doctor when I grow up,’ said Adam.

  ‘If you want to be anything at all when you grow up, I suggest you stay away from that lake, both of you.’

  Lorelli had no intention of staying away from her favourite pastime but she was interested in something else that Nurse Griddle had said. ‘What lives has the lake claimed?’ she asked. ‘I’ve never heard of anyone dying in it.’

  Nurse Griddle shut the door.

  ‘I am only telling you this because I hope it will make you realise how dangerous the lake is,’ she said quietly. ‘Years ago, there were two young men drinking in the village pub when one evening, after several strong beers, one of them bet the other that he could swim across Avernus Lake quicker than the other could run around it. Being drunk and foolish, the other accepted the bet and they set off down to the lake, along with half the pub, who gathered around to watch. It was dark but lots of them carried torches. The foolish man stripped down to his u
nderwear and his friend took off his jacket. The landlord of the pub blew a whistle and the race began. There was much shouting as the onlookers followed the second man around the lake. When he reached the other side before his friend, there was a great cheer. They waited for the other man to arrive at the far shore. They shone their torches over the lake but could see no one. Someone found a boat and a few of them, including the man’s friend, headed out to find him, but they never did. The sun came up. The police were called, the lake was searched, but they never found any trace of the man.’

  ‘Then he might have survived,’ said Lorelli. ‘I mean, if no one found him.’

  Nurse Griddle shook her head. ‘That lake is deeper than you think. I have never liked the idea of you swimming across it and now that this has happened perhaps you will learn your lesson. Now, both of you go and take hot baths and I will bring you my warming remedy.’

  .

  THE LIBRARY

  Lorelli wasn’t sure if it was a symptom of what had happened in the lake or the effect of Nurse Griddle’s story but, even after the hot bath and a cup of the warming remedy she couldn’t shake the chilled feeling in her bones, so she went to the library.

  It was, without a doubt, her favourite room in the whole of Thornthwaite Manor. Its high walls were lined with books dating back centuries, although none purchased since her parents had died. Nurse Griddle had asked Mr Crutcher to buy new titles for Lorelli to read but it was his opinion that until she had read the existing books, new ones would only be a waste of money.

  Whenever Lorelli felt sad or lonely, she would go to the library and walk around the walls, with one hand outstretched so that she felt the ridges of the book spines, as though she could touch all the different worlds that these books represented through her fingertips.

  As usual she found herself stopping at the familiar spine of her favourite novel, The Seven Dances of Franciska Toth by Imelda Gaunt. She had never spoken to anyone about it, certainly not Ovid, who would have stolen it had he known how much she loved the story. She had toyed with asking Nurse Griddle to look in the village library for any other books by the author, but she never did. Keeping it to herself made the book and its story all the more precious. Each novel she read was like a sanctuary where she could hide, and Imelda Gaunt’s was a world away from the one in which she lived. It was a place which belonged entirely to her.