Secrets and Seashells at Rainbow Bay

by Ali McNamara

  ‘We’re just discussing the brooch, actually,’ I say truthfully. ‘Benji thinks it might be worth something too.’

  ‘Maybe you should sell it,’ Tom suggests. ‘It might cover the extra work you’re worried about on the stables?’

  ‘No! I could never sell this,’ I say a bit too quickly, clutching the brooch to my chest. ‘It . . . it’s a family heirloom.’

  Tom stares doubtfully at me for a moment before turning his attention to Benji. ‘Benj, what do you reckon?’

  ‘I agree with Amelia,’ Benji says rapidly. ‘I think this brooch could prove too important to ever consider selling.’

  Tom looks between the two of us now. ‘Hmm . . . I know you two are up to something. Okay, if you won’t sell the brooch, what are you going to do?’ he asks. ‘You still haven’t found a way to pay this woodworm bill yet. And I’m sure I don’t need to remind you, Amelia, but time is rapidly running out before you have to do just that.’

  ‘Actually, I might be able to help you there,’ Benji says quickly. ‘I have a contact who works for one of the larger banks; I haven’t spoken to him for a while, but the last I heard he was specialising in loans to big businesses.’

  ‘You do?’ I ask in surprise. ‘I mean . . . do you think we qualify as a big business?’

  ‘You don’t get much bigger than a castle, do you?’ Benji says, thrusting his hands widely in the air. ‘I’ll contact him and see if he can give us any advice.’

  ‘Thanks, Benji,’ I say. ‘I appreciate it.’

  ‘Now, I’ve got many things to do! Let me leave you two lovebirds alone, so you can chirp sweet nothings to each other, or whatever it is you do!’ He winks at us. ‘Toodle pip!’

  ‘Word sure spreads fast around here,’ I say, rolling my eyes at Tom as Benji departs down the corridor. ‘About us, I mean.’

  ‘Does that surprise you?’ he asks. ‘And I like hearing you say us.’

  I smile at him and take hold of his hand. ‘Nothing surprises me about this place any more,’ I say, leaning my face towards his. ‘Absolutely nothing.’

  ‘So what are you up to today, then?’ Tom asks after we’ve spent a few minutes close together doing something similar to what Benji has just suggested. Except there’s more kissing involved and slightly less chirping!

  I don’t like lying, but I can hardly tell Tom the truth, which is that I’m going to try to speak to a ghost.

  ‘Oh, this and that – the usual.’

  ‘Can I take you out to dinner later?’ Tom asks. ‘It’s about time we had our first official date.’

  ‘That sounds lovely,’ I reply coyly, suddenly feeling shy when he mentions the word date. ‘Where were you thinking of taking me?’

  ‘There’s a cute little bistro in the village,’ Tom says. ‘It’s small, but the food is delicious.’

  ‘That sounds good . . . in theory.’ I hesitate. ‘But if it’s small and local won’t someone see us there, and then it won’t just be the castle that’s gossiping about the “countess”,’ I do air quotes with my fingers, ‘and her latest beau. It will be the whole village too.’

  ‘That’s true, I guess. It bothers you, then, people knowing about us?’ Tom looks a little hurt.

  ‘No, of course not,’ I tell him, touching his arm. ‘But this is all so new, Tom, I don’t want people getting the wrong idea. Okay, I don’t want Charlie getting the wrong idea. He’s young and impressionable, and he’s been hurt in the past.’

  ‘If it’s Charlie you’re worried about, then I’ll let you off,’ Tom says. ‘I think the world of him, you know that.’

  ‘Yes, and that’s why we mustn’t confuse him.’ I hold Tom’s gaze with a meaningful look.

  ‘I understand. Right.’ He taps the side of his nose. ‘You leave it with me, Countess. We shall have that date, and we shall dine like kings . . . or is that queens?’ He winks. ‘But what I can guarantee is it will be very secretive and very, very private.’

  Reluctantly, I leave Tom and make my way upstairs to the office. There are some things I need to check on before I go down to the Ladies’ Chamber to see if I can speak to Clara.

  Tiffany is already working away happily when I get there.

  ‘Everything all right, Tiffany?’ I ask, secretly hoping she might have something she needs my help with.

  ‘Yeah, everything is fine here, boss,’ Tiffany says, saluting me. ‘Everything is running like clockwork, even in Arthur’s absence. Don’t tell him that, though, will you? He likes to think this ship can’t sail without him.’

  So with Tiffany giving me no reason to put this visit off any longer, I head along the corridor and down the stairs to the Great Hall. I check my watch: it’s just gone ten o’clock. I should be pretty safe just yet from any visitors – the human kind, anyway – they usually don’t start appearing at the castle gates until just before eleven, unless they’re very keen.

  I walk through the Great Hall and press the rose on the carving to allow me access to the Ladies’ Chamber. As always the door slides open, and I’m granted access to the light bright turquoise room.

  But today, instead of leaving the door open, I use the handle that’s on the other side of the door to slide it shut again. I don’t want to risk anyone witnessing what I’m about to do.

  To begin I sit on the chaise longue, looking incredibly awkward with my knees together and my hands in my lap. Then I stand up and move towards the window, wondering if this might feel more comfortable. When it doesn’t, I walk over and stand in front of the painting of Clara and gaze up at her, wondering exactly what you say to summon a ghost. When this doesn’t bring forth anything from my lips, I go and sit down at the little piano.

  And at that moment it comes to me.

  I begin to tap lightly on one of the piano keys, just the one, over and over, just like Clara said she’d done in her diary, and just like I believe she had done to summon me, when Tom and I were searching for her diary.

  This should feel irritating, but strangely, it actually feels quite comforting to continually hear the same familiar note.

  Just as I’m becoming completely mesmerised by the sound, I feel quite chilly. I look up at the window in case it’s been left open again, but it’s definitely tightly shut today. And it’s as I’m thinking about this that I feel something brush my hand.

  Initially I jump, but then I realise this is what I’m here for. I try to think about Charlie and how he’d react to this.

  ‘Hi,’ I say to the empty room. ‘I felt you just then. It’s good you could join me today.’ It’s good you could join me today? I repeat in my head. What was that?

  But whatever or whoever is in the room with me isn’t put off by my stilted conversation, because I feel something brush against my hand again.

  I couldn’t be imagining this, could I? I wonder as I stare at my hand. This has to be real.

  ‘Is that you, Clara?’ I venture in a tiny voice. ‘Are you really there?’

  The sound of a single note on the piano begins to fill the room again. But this time it’s not me who’s pressing the key.

  As I stare transfixed at the piano keyboard, I hear a distant voice.

  Is it Clara? Is she speaking to me at last?

  ‘I’m so pleased you’re here, Clara,’ I whisper, looking around the room. ‘I have so much I need to ask you.’

  Suddenly the piano stops playing and I hear another sound – the sound of the secret door sliding back on its old cranky mechanism.

  I whip my head around so fast that I almost give myself whiplash.

  ‘Wowee!’ I hear as two small boys are revealed on the other side of the doorway. ‘That is so cool.’

  ‘Jamie, Luther!’ A woman’s voice now. ‘I told you not to touch anything. Oh, I’m so sorry,’ she apologises as she sees me sitting at the piano looking dazed. ‘We didn’t mean to disturb you.’

  I stand up quickly. ‘No, not at all. Your boys have simply discovered the entrance to a secret room, that’s all. We someti
mes have this room open to the public, but I was just . . . ’ I search desperately for inspiration. ‘I was just tuning the piano.’

  ‘Ah,’ the woman glances doubtfully at the piano, ‘I see. I do apologise again. We’ll leave you to it. Come along, boys.’

  ‘Enjoy the rest of your visit to Chesterford Castle!’ I call as they depart back into the Great Hall. I hear the boys banging on the suits of armour as they pass them, even though there’s a clear sign that says, ‘Please Do Not Touch’.

  I look around the room, but the feeling I’d had a few moments ago has now disappeared, and I am in no doubt that Clara – if she’d ever really been here at all – has definitely gone.

  I leave the door to the Ladies’ Chamber ajar and head back upstairs.

  Am I imagining all this? I ask myself again. Have all the things that have happened really been the result of spirits roaming the halls of Chesterford? Or am I just desperate to discover the answers to several of my most pressing problems, and this is the only way I can see of solving them?

  But then I think about Charlie. He couldn’t be imagining all this, could he? Although I have to admit last night he had talked about how glad he was he had a family again here at the castle. Perhaps this ghost thing is about something similar – something he lacks in his life that he needs to find answers for.

  I’m just passing the Blue Bedroom when I notice the door is pulled to. That’s odd, the doors to all the state rooms are always open when visitors are in the castle.

  I’m just reaching my hand towards the handle when I hear a noise coming from inside the room, and then giggling.

  Is it Percy up to his old tricks?

  Because I’d doubted their existence, are the ghosts showing me they are really here again?

  I push open the door to enter the bedroom, expecting to see nothing as I’d done that last time I’d heard sounds on the other side of these walls. But to my surprise, and subsequent shock, I do see something, and it’s something I really don’t want to see before I’ve had my morning coffee. In fact, at any time of the day.

  It’s the sight of two shapes writhing about under the bedclothes.

  But these definitely aren’t celestial bodies, they are very real ones.

  ‘Excuse me!’ I say in a voice that sounds prim, even to me. ‘What on earth do you think you’re doing?’

  The faces on the two bodies turn towards my voice, looking even more shocked than I feel.

  ‘Oh God!’ the young man says, grabbing at the blue silk eiderdown. ‘We didn’t think anyone would be up here this early.’

  The girl in the bed with him attempts to cover her body as best she can. ‘I told you this wasn’t a good idea, Stu!’ she hisses. ‘You and your bloody dares.’

  ‘I think you’d both better get out of there and get dressed as quickly as you can,’ I tell them in the same stern voice. ‘I assume those are your clothes over there on the chair?’

  Stu nods. ‘We’re really sorry,’ he says, trying to stand up, but he takes the blue eiderdown with him, and his girlfriend squeals.

  ‘Oh sorry, Jen.’ He drops the cover back over her, but then realises that he is now the naked one. He grabs a cushion to hide his modesty. ‘Will you tell the owner?’ he asks in a ‘please don’t’ sort of voice.

  ‘I am the owner,’ I tell him, trying now I’m over the initial shock to keep a straight face. ‘So I’ve already been told.’

  ‘It was just a dare,’ Stu pleads. ‘There’s a rumour that this bedroom is haunted, and my mate dared me I couldn’t do it in a haunted bed.’ He grimaces as he hears himself.

  ‘Please, miss,’ Jen says now. ‘If you’re the new owner I’ve heard really good things about you. How you’re turning this place around, modernising it and stuff, and how liked you are in the village. My mum is always talking about you and her job here.’ She slaps her hand over her mouth.

  ‘Your mother works here?’ I ask. ‘No,’ I shake my hand at her, ‘don’t tell me who she is; I don’t want to know or I won’t be able to look her in the face.’

  ‘Come on, miss, you must have been young once,’ Stu tries now. ‘I bet you got up to loads of stuff like this.’

  I look at them both and realise how young they are. When had I got so old and sensible? It didn’t seem five minutes since I was young and carefree too.

  ‘I may well have got up to some things,’ I tell Stu, ‘but I can assure you I never did anything quite like this. Now, I’m going to go downstairs and make myself a cup of coffee. When I come back up here, you’d both better be gone, that bed had better be made up just like you found it, and this room had better be absolutely spotless, do you hear?’

  Two heads nod hurriedly.

  ‘Right, you have five minutes max!’

  I turn and leave them in their compromising positions, and then I wait until I’m a long way down the corridor and halfway down the stairs before I burst into uncontrollable laughter.

  Oh to be young, carefree and . . . wait . . . am I already in love?

  Forty-one

  ‘Tom, you didn’t have to go to all this trouble,’ I tell him as I enter the Great Hall, and see a long table that looks at first glance as if it’s been laid out for a magnificent banquet. Three silver candelabras have been set at intervals along the table, and in between those sit small flower posies made up of buds I recognise from the castle gardens. The table is covered in a long white cotton cloth, and there are various silver serving dishes and jugs distributed along it. But the reason I know the table isn’t expecting many guests to dine at it this evening is because at one end there are just two place settings. Matching white china plates sit next to each other, with sets of silver cutlery on either side of them, above those various sizes of glass wait hopefully for wine or even champagne to be poured into them.

  All that’s missing are the two diners to fill the empty seats.

  ‘I wanted to make this special,’ Tom says, ‘even if it is secret. Besides, I did have a little bit of help from the others.’

  ‘Which others?’ I ask, as I wander along the side of the table, admiring the elegance and sophistication of it all.

  ‘To begin with, Joey and I had to get this huge table in here – which was no mean feat, I can tell you; it’s pretty heavy and incredibly awkward to get around corners. Joey also cut the flowers for me from the castle gardens, and Tiffany helped me to arrange them. Arthur then gave me very detailed instructions on how to set the table correctly, Benji helped me do it, and of course Dorothy was pretty involved in the cooking. Although I did help with that, too.’

  ‘Wow, you have been busy.’ I look up from the table and smile shyly at him. ‘I’m touched, really I am.’

  Tom hurries around to one side of the table and holds a chair out for me.

  ‘Madam?’ he says.

  ‘This is where the formalities stop,’ I say, waggling my finger at him. ‘No titles. You know how much I hate them.’

  I sit down and Tom pulls out his own chair and sits down next to me. We’re not seated opposite each other, but instead we sit on two sides of the end of the table at right angles to each other. It’s much cosier, and I’m glad he’s set it like this.

  ‘So why do you hate titles so much?’ Tom asks after enquiring which wine I’d like. He begins to pour me a glass. ‘You look gorgeous, by the way; that dress really suits you.’

  I’m wearing a beautiful, floaty, scarlet-red dress lent to me from the wardrobe of Tiffany. When she found out that Tom and I were going on our first official date, she insisted on dressing ‘Cinders for the ball’.

  ‘Thank you, it’s Tiffany’s. I didn’t really have anything glamorous enough – it’s been a long time since I had to dress up for anything. You look very smart too.’

  ‘Thanks – this is actually my own, though.’ Tom gestures to his smart trousers and white shirt. ‘Tiffany is one thing, but I wouldn’t want to have borrowed anything from Arthur!’

  I smile at him.

  ‘Now,
you were about to tell me about this title thing?’ Tom asks again as he returns the bottle to the ice bucket. ‘What’s the big issue?’

  ‘I would have thought that was obvious, isn’t it?’

  ‘Not really. I completely understand why you’d prefer not to be called “Lady” or “madam”, but you seem so against it. I’ve seen your face when someone makes a mistake and addresses you in that way. You absolutely detest it.’

  ‘I do; it really irritates me. I’ve always believed that everyone is equal in life, and I’ve brought Charlie up to treat everyone the same whether they’re a different age, gender, colour or they come from a different background to him. I dislike people having titles bestowed upon them, whether it’s through family ties or an honour from the Queen. It’s not right.’

  ‘The people who get an honour from the Queen deserve it, though, surely? Many of them have done great work for charity.’

  ‘That’s true, I suppose. All right, maybe not so much when they get an OBE or an MBE after their name – that’s acceptable, I guess. But why do they have to become Sir this or Dame that? It’s giving them a title that suggests they’re better than someone who hasn’t got one.’

  Tom nods. ‘You could be right.’

  ‘I am right,’ I reply adamantly. ‘This is something I feel very strongly about. I’ve been on both sides of the fence, Tom. I’ve been very comfortable, with my nice house and my easy life, where I’m ashamed to admit my only worry was whether my curtains matched my sofa. But I’ve also found myself living on very little money, worried sick that I’d have enough food to last the week or that the meter would keep running long enough to keep us warm.’

  ‘But you were still the same person throughout both those times in your life, were you not?’

  ‘I definitely was. But other people didn’t treat me the same. It was like I was a second-class citizen when we lived on the council estate. People looked down their noses at us, people who we’d once called our friends.’

  ‘They say you find out who your friends are in times of need.’

  ‘I can certainly vouch for that!’ I lift my glass and take a sip. ‘Very nice,’ I say approvingly.