Sunshine Over Bluebell Castle

by Sarah Bennett

  ‘You’re right,’ Will agreed, resting the ladder down for a moment. ‘The one we found is much smaller and set flush into the brick.’

  Turning the handle, she pushed the door open then stepped back to let Will through with the ladder. ‘We don’t keep it locked because there aren’t any children around, but we make sure to keep the door closed so the dogs can’t get it.’ She gestured towards the weed-strewn brick beds. ‘I haven’t had time to identify exactly what was planted in here, but given what it was used for there are bound to be some poisonous plants in here.’

  Hands on hips, she surveyed the area. It really was a mess. ‘My initial plan was to try and replicate what was originally here, but it might just be easier to start again.’

  Setting the ladder down flat on the ground, Will crouched beside the nearest bed and examined one of the plants there. Pulling back the overgrown leaves, he showed her the green unripe fruit hanging beneath them. At first glance they looked to be small tomatoes, but when she bent for a closer look, she saw a couple of them were starting to turn black at the edges. ‘Nightshade,’ he said. ‘Definitely not something you want getting into the wrong hands.’ Releasing the branch, he brushed the palms of his gloves on his jeans and stood up. ‘As fascinating as it might be to recreate what’s here, I’d err on the side of caution if you’re going to make this one of the public spaces. There are plenty of things you can plant with traditional medicinal and health properties without risking a lawsuit.’

  It was reassuring to hear they were thinking along the same lines. ‘If we add lots of aromatics and herbs we can make it into a proper, sensory experience whilst keeping it safe.’

  ‘Exactly.’ He tilted his head, brow creased in thought. ‘What’s outside opposite the entrance? I wasn’t paying attention.’ He turned to face towards the door she’d closed behind them.

  Iggy shrugged. ‘Nothing much. There’s another path, which leads back towards the castle kitchens and a large patch of grass that no one has ever done anything with. Why, what are you thinking?’

  ‘Talking about making this child-friendly made me wonder about creating something interactive for them. A safe place where they can get their hands dirty, do a bit of planting even. I didn’t have a clue about gardening until my neighbour showed an interest in me. She started my love of everything green, and I just thought it would be something nice to do for other kids.’

  The way his voice warmed as he mentioned his neighbour told her this was something very close to his heart-it was also a really lovely idea. ‘We could create a couple of different areas, one for flowers and the other for vegetables. Maybe even get the village school involved.’ Her mind started racing a mile a minute. ‘Perhaps we could find somewhere for the school to have their own space away from the general public areas, something they could use long-term. We’ve got more than enough land for it.’

  She’d have to consult Arthur, of course, but from their own time at the village school-before they’d boarded from aged eleven-she recalled the only outside space had been the concrete yard in front of the school building. ‘They don’t have any green areas to speak of. I don’t know why it’s never occurred to us before.’

  ‘It’d be a fantastic legacy for you guys to establish, and a great way to give access to the community. The biggest thrill I had designing my garden for Chelsea wasn’t winning, even though that’s brought so many opportunities my way. I specifically designed it together with a London charity that supports inner city gardens and works to provide access to green spaces. After the show finished, we donated the garden to an estate a few miles from where I grew up. Most of the kids there were the same as me and had no experience of gardening. It’s maintained by a team of local volunteers and apart from a couple of stupid acts of vandalism when it was first installed, it’s proving to be a great success. It’s something I’d like to do more of in the future.’

  ‘I’ll speak to Arthur and Tristan about it later. Come on, let’s check out what’s over the wall before you come up with any more ideas. You’re supposed to be helping me streamline this project, not giving me more to do.’ She smiled over her shoulder at him to show she was joking.

  Will hefted the ladder up once more and followed her along the stone path towards the rear of the garden. ‘That’ll be my last bright idea, I promise.’ He leant the ladder against the wall, then braced the bottom rung with his boot. ‘Ladies first.’

  Iggy placed her foot on the rung beside his, then stopped. She knew they didn’t have time for this, that they should be doing a full tour of the grounds and then poring over the plans. There were too many things to do with not enough hours to do them, and yet something was calling to her from the other side of that wall. It’s waited this long to be rediscovered, a few more days or weeks won’t matter. That was the practical, sensible response, but she hadn’t been feeling either practical or sensible since the moment she’d decided to crawl through a non-existent hole in the hedge after the man beside her. ‘Just a quick look,’ she said, not sure if she was talking to herself or Will, ‘And then we must get on with things.’

  ‘Five minutes,’ he promised. ‘If we don’t look then it’ll nag away at us and be even more of a distraction.’

  ‘Five minutes,’ she agreed and began to climb.

  Will’s hand curled around her calf, pausing her progress. ‘Sit on the wall at the top and wait for me, we’ll pull the ladder up between us.’

  ‘Oh, yes of course.’ If her cheeks felt warm it was embarrassment from not considering the practicalities of getting down into the garden-and more importantly how they’d get back out again. It had nothing to do with the heat radiating from where he held her. Nothing at all.

  It took a couple of awkward minutes, but they managed to haul the ladder up and over the wall and were soon standing on the other side. Weeds had forced their way through the cracks in the stones lining the length of the long, narrow area, the dandelion heads a mixture of golden-yellow flowers and wispy seed heads waiting for a gust of wind to carry them away to propagate yet more of the stubborn trouble-makers. A wide stone channel ran the length of the wall, perhaps the remains of an old flowerbed, but it was so choked with ivy it was impossible to see anything through the thick carpet of green. A bronze sundial, weathered to a pale green after years of exposure to the elements, stood in what she judged to be the centre of the garden.

  What looked to be the remains of a tree filled the far end of the rectangle, its entire mass covered in ivy to the point that tis species was impossible to distinguish. Curious, Igraine went for a closer look, taking care not to trip where some of the flagstones had cracked and come loose. As she neared, she realised the base was too wide to be part of the trunk. Tugging at the ivy, she uncovered what looked to be a stone bench shaped to encircle the tree.

  ‘What have you found?’ Will knelt beside her, his strong hands helping to rip the stubborn ivy free in a matter of moments. ‘This is beautifully made.’

  Iggy brushed her hand over the cool stone, her fingers tracing the carved edge of the bench. She could imagine one of her ancestors sitting out here, relaxing with a book under the shady branches of the tree. ‘What a peaceful little spot this must’ve been back in the day.’ Will only grunted in response, his busy hands tugging and pulling at the ivy stretching away from the base of the bench.

  She watched him for a few moments, assuming he was just caught up in the act of removing the ivy. It was one of those tasks she found hard to stop once she started as there was something so satisfying about freeing spaces that had been smothered by its spreading tendrils. It was why she’d returned to the fountain this morning; the rip and pull was a great way to work off the frustration and anger-and, she could admit to herself now, the disappointment when she’d thought Will had been using his visit to the castle as nothing more than a means to escape some domestic drama or other. ‘I thought we were just taking a quick look,’ she said, her tone teasing.

  ‘There’s something here.
’ Will lifted his head briefly, before turning back to his task. ‘I think it’s a dog.’

  Her brain went into full panic mode at the idea one of their beloved pets had somehow found its way into the garden. Scrambling down beside him, she yanked at the ivy. ‘Oh, God, did it crawl through a hole in the wall?’

  ‘Hey, steady, steady.’ Will’s hands closed over her wrists, stilling the frantic motion of her fingers. ‘It’s a carving, a little statue of some kind, not the real thing.’ Relief flooded her veins, so hot and stark she had to sit back on the ground to steady herself from the rush of it. He squeezed her wrists again. ‘I’m sorry if I freaked you out.’

  ‘No, no, it’s fine.’ She gave him a shaky smile. ‘Stupid really to think one of our animals might have got in here, I don’t know why my brain jumped that way.’ The next breath she took was steadier, the one after it almost back to normal. ‘I’m okay.’ She tugged her arms gently to free them from his grip, and he dropped them instantly, the expression on his face telling her he’d forgotten he was still holding them. Not liking the sudden awkwardness between them, she gave him a smile and an encouraging nod towards where they’d been working. ‘What type of dog is it, can you tell?’

  Returning her smile, he shook his head. ‘Not yet, hang on a minute and I’ll find out.’

  She sat quietly whilst he worked, her eyes transfixed by the ripple and roll of his thick shoulders where the movement of his arms pulled his T-shirt tight across his back. This close to him, the difference in their sizes was emphasised, but even with his cropped hair and that scar on his cheek, there was nothing intimidating about him. Though they barely knew each other, she had no qualms about being alone with him, hadn’t even paused for a second before climbing down into this garden without telling anyone where they were going. Her eyes flicked back to where the ladder rested against the wall, before she dismissed it from her thoughts. Will had touched her several times in the past hour, but only out of care and consideration. He’d given no hint his thoughts had strayed into untoward territories, which was more than could be said for the way she was admiring his physique.

  Feeling her ponytail drooping once more against her neck, Iggy adjusted it with a silent sigh. Of course, he wasn’t ogling her. He had shapely blondes like the one who’d been pouting from the inside cover of the newspaper this morning throwing themselves at him. Even if he and Melody hadn’t been dating as he claimed, she was still the kind of woman men fancied. They didn’t lust after women like her with too-big bottoms thanks to years in the saddle, and thread veins on their cheeks from too much time spent out in the sun and the wind. No, she had no need to worry about her virtue around Will Talbot, he was only interested in her professionally. And if that gave her a tiny pang of regret, well, too damn bad. Time to stop daydreaming and get back to the matter in hand. ‘How are you getting on?’

  ‘Almost there.’ Will brushed a last few stray bits of greenery aside, then swivelled on his heels so she could see past him.

  ‘Oh, it’s beautiful.’ Scrambling onto her knees beside him, Iggy touched a tentative finger to the floppy ear of the little statue of a sleek miniature greyhound, or whippet curled into a sleeping ball, its nose resting on its rear flank.

  ‘I think there’s another one here.’ Will pointed to where the end of a carved tail could be seen poking from the ivy he hadn’t yet cleared.

  ‘I wonder why they’re here?’ Iggy couldn’t resist stroking the sleeping dog, marvelling at how the sculptor had managed to render a shape and feel her hand recognised from soothing Nimrod or Bella, the family’s current pair of greyhounds. ‘She’s so lifelike, I keep expecting her to sit up.’

  Will touched a brief finger to the top of the dog’s neck then began to clear the ivy from the second statue. He worked more slowly this time, his big hands gentle and careful as they untangled the knots of vines to unveil a matched partner to the sleeping pup, this one sitting on its haunches, head raised at an alert angle, as though guarding something precious. At first she assumed he was protecting his sleeping mate, but then a glimpse of grey stone behind the pair caught her eye. ‘There’s something behind them.’

  Leaning forward, she pulled more ivy free until the tips of her fingers grazed over an indent in the stone. ‘I think it’s a carving of some kind …’ A handful of ivy came free all at once, the loss of resistance against which she’d been pulling almost tumbling her back onto her bottom. Will grabbed her shoulder to steady her, his fingers tightening to an almost painful grip as the two of them stared at what she’d revealed.

  ‘Oh.’ It was all she could manage before a stinging rush of emotion burned the breath from her lungs. Behind the dogs stood a simple oval marker, the shape clearly that of a gravestone even had it not been etched with heartbreaking lines of text that looked as fresh as if they’d been carved yesterday.

  Here lieth Ector and Kay Ludworth

  Born and died Dec 14 1893

  Thy hearts did not need to beat to steal all love from ours.

  Iggy wasn’t aware of the tears streaming down her cheeks until Will removed one of his gloves to pull a handkerchief from his pocket and hand it to her. She pressed the neatly folded square to her face. The warm, woodsy hint of his masculine aftershave had impregnated the material, and she breathed in deeply to settle herself as she mopped at the tears. ‘Sorry, I don’t know where that came from,’ she said once she knew she could speak in a steady voice.

  ‘It’s heartbreaking.’ His gruff response was enough to let her know how deeply affected he was by what they’d discovered. Wanting to offer him the same comfort she needed herself, Iggy grasped his un-gloved hand in her own. He squeezed her fingers in a brief, hard gesture before slackening his hold so their palms rested easy together. They stayed that way for a few minutes, holding a silent vigil to these babies who though forgotten by the family along the way, had never been alone with their carved companions to protect them.

  With one last stroke of the sleeping dog statue’s head, Iggy untangled her other hand from Will’s and pushed to her feet. Now they’d found the grave, she was reluctant to leave it half-uncovered as it was, but she simply didn’t have the time to give the garden the justice it deserved.

  As though he recognised the conflict in her mind, Will placed a gentle hand on her back and steered her towards the ladder. ‘Once you’ve got everything else sorted, you can come back and restore things here. You know they’re here now, and doing what you can to safeguard your family’s future means they’ll be able to rest here undisturbed forever.’ He was right, but placing her foot on the first rung of the ladder and forcing herself to climb back over the wall was still one of the hardest things she’d had to do in a long time.

  Needing something to distract her from the aching sadness threatening to engulf her, Iggy persuaded Will to leave the ladder secured in the apothecary’s garden and led him along the path towards the castle which led to the servants’ quarters. Now she knew of the twins’ existence, she was even more drawn to his idea for turning the open ground on either side of the path into a children’s learning and activity space. Having this part of the grounds filled with the sounds of laughter and play would be a fitting tribute for those two little souls who’d never had a chance to shine. Her eyes drifted towards the woods farther over on the right and she wondered whether she could find a suitable space there to create a bit of a playground. Something with a rustic feel that would blend in rather than obtrusive metal climbing frames. Put it on the list.

  As they approached the castle, she pointed out features and explaining the general internal layout in more detail. ‘This wing contains the baronet’s apartments,’ she said as they rounded the end of the castle. ‘That’s the dining room where we had breakfast this morning, and you can see here the kitchen and the rest of the servants’ quarters are positioned directly behind it.’ Spotting Betsy, the family cook, bustling around inside, Iggy tapped on the window and gave her a wave which was returned along with a blown kiss. />
  ‘You have a fantastic relationship with the staff,’ Will observed as he too gave the cook a quick wave. ‘I was really surprised this morning when you were teasing Arthur and that butler guy joined in. He looked like a real costume drama throwback in his uniform, and I’m not shy to admit it was a bit intimidating when he swept in, like he might tell me off for using the wrong knife or something.’

  Iggy almost laughed, but stopped herself at the last minute. She’d grown up with the protocols and etiquette of the castle and just took everything as part and parcel of normal life-well, what was normal to them, anyway. It’d been a shock to the system when she and her brothers had gone to boarding school and had to learn to fend for themselves. ‘You’ll probably think me terribly spoilt, but when I first went away to school, I didn’t know how to make a bed. It was just one of those things that had always been done for us, and I don’t think it even occurred to our father that we might need to know how to do stuff like that.’

  ‘What about your mum?’

  Iggy bristled, the way she always did the moment the subject of Helena arose. ‘She left when we were tiny, so it was only ever the three of us and Dad. And Uncle Lancelot and Aunt Morgana, of course.’ she amended, quickly. ‘She already lived here, but Lancelot moved back home after our mother ran off with the man who became husband number two.’ She clamped her mouth shut before spilling any more of her family’s dirty laundry. Damn him, he was far too easy to talk to.

  ‘Must’ve been hard for you to grow up without her. I was fourteen when my mum took off. I was old enough to understand why, but it still didn’t make it any easier. I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like for you to have her there one day and gone the next.’

  ‘I was too young to remember her.’ It was a lie she told herself, a defence mechanism to protect not only her own, but her father’s feelings. As she’d grown older, she’d come to understand the crippling guilt haunting him over the failure of his marriage, and she’d so wanted to reassure him that she’d not needed Helena to feel complete.