We sat on the bench only a couple of minutes, the silence between us not awkward and I almost felt content sitting there watching the beam from the lighthouse hit the town. I looked down at my hands; they were dirty from my fall and small pieces of dirt had stuck to my palms. Seeing this, the man instantly took out a handkerchief from his pocket, offering it to me. I again thanked him and began to wipe the dirt from my hands.
‘It is such a shame seeing the beautiful town in such darkness.’ I don’t really know why I had said this. ‘Seeing none of the street lamps on makes the town seem cold and unloved.’ I continued as I stared back towards the town. This man must have thought I was a complete idiot, but his response to my comments shocked me completely.
‘There are darknesses in life and there are lights, and you are one of the lights, the light of all lights.’
I was not sure how to respond to this, it was spoken as though he had not purely thought it up himself; it was almost as if he was quoting something. The words were stiffly spoken as though trying to ensure he was using the correct words. I smiled and made to stand. I knew I needed to return to the Inn soon before Albert returned and realised I was missing. The gentleman also stood and held out his hand towards the direction of the town, a gesture that said, ‘After you.’
We continued to walk along the pier back towards town, and although at first we walked in complete silence, I soon found myself talking to him. I explained how I had gone to look at the lighthouse, and that I had been in the library beforehand to choose a book. Our conversation seemed effortless, and we were in nonstop discussion all the way back; even if it was I who was doing most of the talking.
Upon reaching the swing bridge I stopped and looked back down the river where I could just see the magnificent lighthouse shining. We stood for only a moment. I turned to look at the strange man beside me and he too was admiring the beauty of the lighthouse. He turned to look at me, and for a very brief moment we were staring into each other’s eyes, the beam from the lighthouse hitting us and snapping us out of the trance we were in.
Never had I looked at another man in all the time I had been with Albert, but there was something about this man standing before me that drew me to him. I just wasn’t sure what it was.
‘Thank you for walking me safely back,’ I said as we continued to walk over the bridge. He did not respond, his face turned serious for a moment as though thinking of what to say next. We approached the corner of Church Street when he finally spoke again. The expression on his face had changed again, and his tone of voice became more with an edge of urgency to it. I felt as though he wanted to make sure I heard him out before our moonlit walk came to an end.
‘Do you believe in destiny?’ His words were abrupt. I looked at him as though unsure of his meaning. He clearly thought I had misheard him as he repeated himself.
‘Do you believe in destiny?... That even the powers of time can be altered for a single purpose? That the luckiest man who walks this earth is the one who finds…True Love?’
He grasped hold of my hand and looked me straight in the eyes. Again his words sounded stiff and quoted.
‘I think it is possible,’ I replied. I was beginning to feel uncomfortable and was pleased when we finally reached the White Horse and Griffin.
‘Well this is where I am staying. Thank you again for your kind gesture in walking me back.’ I drew back my hand from his grip and held it firmly in front of him to gesture a goodbye handshake. He took my small hand gently into his own and raised it to his lips, kissing my hand slowly before releasing it and wishing me a good night.
I turned to head inside the inn and immediately paused, turning back to the man still standing in the doorway.
‘I am terribly sorry,’ I said with such embarrassment, ‘but I did not introduce myself, and even more rude I did not ask for your name.’
The man looked me straight in eye and smiled and leaned in to close my ear.
‘We met as strangers, talked as friends, and now it’s back to the way we started, strangers,’ he whispered softly, his breath warm against my cold ear. And with that he turned and left, walking back along Church Street and out of sight. Fixated I watched his every footstep as he disappeared around the corner, and out of sight.
I dashed into the bar area of the White Horse and Griffin, again it was empty, Mr Walker was nowhere to be seen. I marched back to my room without being seen and once safely back there I was relieved to see that I too had made it back before Albert; I hadn’t expected him back this soon, but being out after dark after promising not to be had me praying he hadn’t come back early.
Chapter 16
D.
I spent quite some time looking for Victoria. How had she disappeared completely? I was only a minute or two behind her. It was getting dark now and my likelihood of finding her again tonight was low. I was about to head back towards the swing bridge when I finally spotted her; she was walking slowly along the pier towards the lighthouse. I watched as the wind blew against her dress, her hair now loosely fallen around her shoulders also danced in the breeze. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her as she continued up towards the end of the pier; I was hesitant to follow as I knew the pier was a dead end, and I didn’t want her to see me.
As she reached the end of the pier the lighthouse suddenly illuminated. Even from my safe distance I could see she was staring up at it in amazement. She continued to walk towards the lighthouse and was soon out of view again as she walked around the large circular structure. I waited patiently for her to re-emerge from the other side, but she did not. Suddenly fear struck me; had she fallen off the end, or worse, had she jumped? After a few moments of waiting I cautiously began to walk up the pier, hoping that I could take a peek at her up close without being seen myself.
I had barely made it to the lighthouse when I spotted her, and within a second she turned and looked straight at me. I was stunned and my feet froze to the ground. I had no idea what to say. My plans of a perfect opening line had gone out of the window after she had disappeared the first time. I finally broke the silence.
‘You should not be along out here, especially in the dark.’ My voice cracked slightly as I tried to stay relaxed. Her short reply seemed cold and hesitant; she was clearly nervous of me so I took a step back to show her my intentions were not to harm her. As she hurried past me she fell to the ground. I rushed over to help her to her feet and guided her gently towards a nearby bench. Her perfume filled my nostrils and the warmth of her hand filled me with desire. Through the darkness I could have sworn her face was now flushed with a slight pinkness, embarrassed by her own clumsiness no doubt; yet I still thought she was the most beautiful lady I had ever seen.
As we sat on the bench I handed her my handkerchief to wipe the dirt from her hands. She then spoke in her soft West Country accent, not London as I had originally thought, but still a voice I could happily listen to all day.
‘It is such a shame seeing the town in such darkness; seeing none of the street lamps on makes the beautiful town seem cold and unloved.’ I would hardly call it beautiful myself, but if this is what she sees as beauty then I will smile in agreement. She looked at me as though expecting a reply; it had been a long time since I had engaged in conversation with another person, and never a lady of her class.
‘There are darknesses in life and there are lights, and you are one of the lights, the light of all lights’ was my reply, a quote from the book Dracula. I could quote the entire book if asked to; it seemed an appropriate quote for this special moment, although the look on her face afterwards seemed that of confusion. My own mind froze as I waited for her to respond, but she simply gave a smile and stood from the bench ready to walk back. It wasn’t long before she was talking again. I didn’t really follow a lot of what she was telling me, but just listening to her was enough.
We reached the swing bridge and she stopped abruptly in the middle. At first I thought something might have been wrong, but I soon realised she had st
opped to look at the lighthouse again. I stood and looked at it too, but I could not see what was so special about it. Did they not have them in the south? Perhaps this was something new to her.
We again continued, and as we reached Church Street she thanked me for walking her back, the smile on her face telling me that she was grateful for the company. I was sad to know we had come to the end of our short walk together; I needed to say something, but what?
‘Do you believe in destiny? That even the powers of time can be altered for a single purpose? That the luckiest man who walks this earth is the one who finds…True Love?’
I am not sure why I quoted this particular section of Dracula; yes I felt that I was in love with Victoria but was it appropriate to tell her now? Again she did not seem to understand, and simply replied, ‘I think it is possible.’ I wanted to kick myself; clearly I needed to be more apparent of my feelings for her.
Before heading inside the inn she tried to introduce herself. I already knew who she was, and I was determined that she was not to know anything about me, or at least not yet. I cut her off from formally introducing herself, as I know she would have expected my own introduction in return. I kissed her gently on the hand and leaned in towards her, whispering in her ear,
‘We met as strangers, talked as friends, and now it’s back to the way we started, strangers.’
I turned and left her standing in the doorway, but as I turned the corner out of her view I paused. I leaned my body back to where I knew I could see her again and caught the last glimpses of her heading into the inn and out of sight.
I need to think of a better way of claiming her for my own. Victoria is too special and too beautiful to be wasted, and from the way she looked at me tonight I am certain she feels the same way about me.
Chapter 17
Victoria
Tuesday 13th February 1900
I had been surprised to see Albert back by 9 o’ clock, and when he entered the room I could see straight away that he was in a bad mood, clearly the meeting with the council members had not gone to his satisfaction; yet I knew better than to ask him anything whilst he was still in a foul mood.
Before bed I had myself a bath; Albert informed the innkeeper of our need of warm water and it wasn’t long before numerous bowls were being brought up from the kitchen. The big tin bath in the centre of the bathroom was filled in no time. The hot water tingled at my toes as I stepped into the large oval framed bath, my body still cold from my evening walk soon warmed as the water covered my body. After a couple of minutes Albert knocked on the bathroom door and entered. He had come to help me wash my hair, something he had started doing when we first got married which we continued to enjoy, an intimate moment just the two of us. His large hands massaged my head, neck and shoulders as he perched behind me on the edge of the bath still in his best trousers and shirt, I could have fallen asleep there and then I was so relaxed.
Tuesday morning arrived and I had had the best night sleep of my trip so far. The evening sea air must have certainly filled my lungs. I was awoken by the sound of seagulls fighting out on the street below. Whitby seemed to be full of these white oversized pigeons; this morning they seemed more vocal than ever. Albert was still fast asleep. I looked over at the wooden clock that hung on the wall above the small fireplace: it was carved into various forms around the clock face; I could make out a lighthouse, a fishing boat and some fish. It looked as though it should have been a cuckoo clock, but not once had I heard it make a sound, aside from the gentle tick that came from the small pendulum as it rocked slowly back and forth.
It was just after seven thirty. I ever so gently crept out of bed, determined not to wake Albert in my bid towards the bathroom. Being closer to the window I couldn’t help but take a peek between the closed curtains. Daylight was already starting to poke its way through the gap and I was keen to see what kind of day was ahead of us.
As I opened the curtain slightly I could see that the grey sky above looked menacing and threatened rain. I looked down, and there, standing alone in the deserted street looking straight back up towards me was the gentleman from last night, his eyes piercing mine as we caught each other’s stare. I jumped back from the window and let out a slight gasp in shock. Albert sat up immediately and looked at me, concern spread across his face.
‘What is it my dear?’ his voice croaky and tired, while his eyes tried to adjust to his surroundings.
‘Erm… Nothing, I stubbed my toe on the desk, go back to sleep.’ I could tell he was not completely convinced by my excuse, but I could hardly tell him that I walked through Whitby in the dark with a strange man whose name I do not know, and that very same man was now standing outside our window looking up at me, could I?
My heart was beating rapidly; I could feel the blood racing through my body as I tried to calm myself down. Why was this strange man standing outside my bedroom window looking up at me? I peeked out of the window again; I do not know what possessed me to want to look again. He was gone, and the street was empty once more.
When I returned from the bathroom Albert was already out of bed, sifting through the wardrobe for something to wear.
‘I forgot to mention, we are going to Mr George Harrold’s house this evening, he is hosting a dinner party for us,’ Albert declared, his tone of voice casual and relaxed as though telling me the weather outside. I had no idea who Mr Harrold was, although I was sure I had heard his name before. As always I did not question it, I acknowledged Albert’s announcement with a simple ‘Alright’, and continued to get myself dressed.
‘What are our plans today before the dinner party?’ I asked casually, hoping that it did not involve more meetings with people, thus leaving me alone.
‘Well my dear, it is up to you. Is there anything in particular you would care to do?’
I almost jumped for joy; I was pleased to hear we were spending the day together, even if I had a tedious dinner party to attend later.
‘I was hoping we could see the ruins of the old Abbey sometime this week.’
Albert did not respond, but nodded in acceptance and continued to search through the wardrobe. Albert’s clothing selection consisted mostly of suits, from day suits to more formal evening attire; he was always well groomed and smartly dressed.
With breakfast eaten, we finally left around ten. I wore my favourite emerald green dress, with sequins around the collar and wrists and a gold thin fabric around my waist with long ties that hung somewhat against the side of the dress. The base of the dress gently brushed against the floor as I walked; my small heeled shoes not quite high enough to raise the dress off the ground.
We walked up Church Street in the direction of the 199 Steps. The street was a lot busier now, the shops were bursting with life and the narrow cobbled street was dressed with an array of people. A group of chimney sweeps walked past, with large brushes over their shoulders, and their faces black as the night covered head to toe in dust and ash; they laughed and joked with one another as they passed us.
As we continued along the street I saw young Tom walking towards us, headed to the inn no doubt.
‘Morning Ma’am, Sir,’ he said in his usual cheery tone, as he continued past us with a skip in his step. His smile lit up the entire street, as headed on past and around the back of the inn towards the small courtyard.
I enjoyed looking into the small windows of the various shops as we made our way along the street. Butchers, fishmongers, bakers could be seen a-plenty. There was also a dressmaker that caught my eye, and I was tempted to ask Albert if we could take a look, but I decided I could always visit another day.
Before we turned the bend for the 199 steps, my attention was captured by a large shop with a deep green sign that stretched above two large windows; the sign was the same deep green colour as my dress. It read, ‘W.Hamond – The Whitby Jet Shop’. How I had not seen this shop the first time I passed was a surprise to me: the large windows looking out onto the street were filled with numerous dis
plays of jewellery, from the grandest of necklaces, large jewelled rings to the most delicate earrings. All were designed around the same stone, Whitby jet, a black gem-like stone that captivated me as I stared into the large window. I couldn’t help but think it looked like small pieces of coal polished up so well that they shined.
I had never been drawn to jewellery. I do like to wear it occasionally but I do not own very much. Yet there was something about the Whitby jet that I liked. It was not a common piece of jewellery, or at least not in London. I know that the Queen wore it; even since the death of her husband Prince Albert all those years ago, Queen Victoria had been photographed so many times wearing it. Thinking about the Queen always made me think of my sister, and how she would tease me when I first started courting Albert. She would say, ‘If you marry Albert then you could be a Queen and Prince stand in for when the real Queen Victoria goes on holiday.’ She used to make me laugh with her comments, and she wasn’t the only one back then making such remarks.
‘Are you ready to continue, darling?’ Albert’s voice suddenly cut into my thoughts, and I realised that I was still staring at the jewellery through the shop window.
‘Sorry,’ I muttered, before following Albert around the corner. The stone staircase was quieter than the last time we were here; although I still had to stop halfway to catch my breath. The steep climb of the stone steps was worth it though, just to admire the view back down towards the harbour and the river leading out to the sea was a delight.
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