Chapter Six
MARCH
Bastian
It had been nearly six weeks since Anders had first emailed me about visiting the castle—or Hareford House to use its proper name—at Heather Bay, and I was finally on my way.
First, it had taken me some time to contact them about visiting and photoshoots and then my early visit had been postponed by the arrival of heavy snow.
Britain didn’t cope well with the merest dusting of the stuff, so the six inches that had been dumped on parts of the country had almost caused a national meltdown.
And when it had finally decided to dissipate, I’d already been backed up with appointments, so my visit had to be pushed back further while I caught up on my rebooked events.
I hated having to leave it so long, especially because with every passing week my fears took root and began to grow.
What if Anders didn’t want to see me again?
What if he just wanted to be friends? What if this whole endeavour was awkward as fuck and we didn’t speak more than two words to each other over dinner?
What if I fell off the edge of a cliff and plummeted to my death on the rocks below?
That last one was very unlikely to happen, but knowing my luck, it was just the sort of thing that would.
I sighed and shook my head as I wove my way through the North Yorkshire Moors towards the coast. I was being ridiculous. All I could do was try.
Around me, the rolling landscape glittered in the late winter sun.
There was still a dusting of snow on some of the highest ground, and the heather-covered moorland stretched out for miles around me under an endless sky littered with clouds.
It was wild and ancient and almost magical, and I wanted to pull the car over and walk out into the beautiful, open world and let it sweep me away.
It was the sort of place where I thought I’d finally be able to breathe.
The car crested a hill, and for the first time, I caught a glimpse of a sparkling stripe of sea across the horizon, beckoning me towards it like a siren song.
I drove on, summoned by the call of the sea and the picture of a man I’d only met once.
The road wound on, and I started to see signs for Heather Bay. My pulse quickened as excitement bubbled under my skin. I was so close I could almost taste the sea air on my tongue despite still being stuck inside my car.
My first view of the bay came as I crested another hill and began a downward swoop.
As I rounded a bend, I got a view of a small town nestled against a horseshoe bay surrounded by cliffs and rolling dales.
On the far side of the bay, a magnificent building that could only be the castle decorated the top of a cliff like something out of a fairy tale.
Only I wasn’t sure if it was the house of the prince or the evil sorcerer.
I was enchanted and disbelieving all at once because surely somewhere so beautiful couldn’t be real.
It didn’t take me long to get down to the town, and I followed the SatNav around roundabouts and past supermarkets and newer housing estates towards the far side of the bay.
I’d agreed to go up to the castle first so I could wander around the grounds and have a chat with a member of staff about photo shoots before I met up with Anders.
We hadn’t set a time, but he’d told me to message him when I was free.
He’d finally given me his phone number. I’d let him know when I was setting off and when the SatNav told me I’d arrive, but I hadn’t had a response.
Maybe he just wasn’t the sort of person who texted back.
As I reached the edge of town, I turned left and followed the signs up a winding road towards Hareford House. Even from here I got a gorgeous view of the bay, and I was anxious to get out of my car and see it up close.
Turning through an iron gateway between two large stone pillars, I followed a tree-lined road towards the house.
The car park was, to my surprise, free, but there were little donation boxes in case you wished to donate to the upkeep of the grounds, which were also free to walk around.
There were a couple of cars and a minibus parked, and I saw a few people in the distance with dogs sprinting around their feet.
A sharp coastal breeze nipped at my face as I climbed out of my car, so I quickly retrieved my coat from the back seat along with my camera bag and gloves.
The sun might have been shining, but winter showed no signs of giving way to spring.
There were a few patches of bright yellow daffodils here and there, rustling in the wind, and their determination to bloom made me smile.
I walked towards the house, marvelling at its architecture, and was soon greeted by a member of staff named Andrew, who didn’t seem to be much older than me.
He invited me inside out of the wind and began talking through the house’s history while giving me a brief tour and discussing what sort of shoots I did, licenses, costs, and what sort of places around the estate might be appropriate for me to use if I was interested.
I had to admit it was a lot more effort than I usually went to for a location.
Usually, if someone wanted to do a fantasy shoot outside, I suggested they come up to August and Lizzie’s or find some local woodlands or a park that would serve their needs.
All the other cosplay shoots I did were at cons or in a studio space I hired out in South London.
But since Anders had suggested it, I wasn’t going to say no.
Especially because I’d known it might be the best chance I’d get to see him again without inventing an excuse. And I’d always been a terrible liar.
After my tour, I strolled around the grounds and let my mind wander.
It really was beautiful here, and I imagined doing a million different shoots.
But there was something else tugging at my heart I couldn’t quite pin down.
Every time I tried to look at it, the feeling flittered out of sight.
I looked out over a low stone wall, taking in the view.
Beneath me, the horseshoe bay stretched out with the town on one side, tucked against a long stretch of sand, and the sea on the other.
There were a few boats bobbing on the water, and I saw what looked like a line of colourful beach huts on the edge of the shore.
I wondered if Anders would mind if we walked along there later.
The town itself looked old and like the sort of place that would have tiny streets filled with interesting shops I could spend hours getting lost in.
I lifted my camera and took a few pictures before heading back to the car.
While I wanted to stay and explore for longer, my heart wasn’t quite in it.
There was somewhere else I wanted to be.
Bastian
I’m all done! When did you want to meet up?
Anders
Do you want to come to my house? Or meet for a drink?
Go to his house? That wasn’t something I’d anticipated him asking. I’d booked a room at a small hotel because I hadn’t wanted to impose, and I’d just assumed we’d meet somewhere later. I twirled my phone in my hand, trying to work out how to respond.
Bastian
I’m booked into Heather Sands so shall I go dump my bags and then meet you? What’s best for you?
It was only half three, and I realised I hadn’t spent as long at the castle as I’d intended. Perhaps I was bothering Anders too early. Maybe I should have checked in and then asked if he was around, even if it was too late to change anything now.
Anders
I’ll meet you there about 4.30? We can go for a drink and then get dinner. Have a think what you want to eat.
Bastian
Sounds good! I’ll see you soon =D x
Heather Sands was a little boutique hotel that overlooked the water and was slightly fancier than I’d imagined.
The pictures had made it look really nice, but when I’d opened the door to my room, I’d had to check that they’d given me the right one.
The enormous bed was made up with white sheets and deep purple cushions, and the window looked out over the bay.
The bathroom was all white and purple tiles with a claw-foot bath and a waterfall shower.
I had no idea how I’d managed to get the room so cheap, but I guessed it was because it was off-season.
The bed was ridiculously comfortable, and once I’d flopped down on it, I debated whether I really wanted to get up again.
I could just give Anders my room number and let him come to extract me from my mountain of pillows.
My stomach rumbled, and I realised I hadn’t eaten much since leaving Derbyshire—just a large latte and a bag of Haribo Tangfastics.
Wherever Anders and I went for a drink, I hoped we’d be able to get snacks.
My phone buzzed with a message from Anders telling me he was downstairs.
Crap. I’d meant to get changed.
Bastian
Sorry, I got sidetracked by the very nice bed! I’ll be down in five.
Anders
Don’t rush.
I threw my clothes off and grabbed a handful of clean ones, along with some deodorant and a hairbrush, out of my overnight bag.
I normally packed light, but the whole Anders situation had me questioning every decision I made, so I’d shoved three clean t-shirts, two shirts, and a different pair of jeans into the small bag.
It took me a minute to decide, but once I’d redressed, I dragged the brush through my hair—which I was sure the wind would undo the moment I stepped outside—grabbed my coat, key card, wallet, and phone and headed downstairs.
Anders was waiting in the small lounge, and the sight of him made my breath catch in my throat.