Chapter Twenty Six #2
The pretty breakfast room was small, but with large windows overlooking the sea where a table was laid. I wasn’t sure if Harry would be down or not, but I imagined he’d be really tired if he’d been up all night.
‘I hope you’ll have a lovely week, Caroline,’ said Mrs Davies, the housekeeper, coming in with a bowl of scrambled eggs.
‘At least we have the electricity back on this morning, though whether we’ll still have it by nightfall is anybody’s guess.
There’s some bacon and sausage, kedgeree if you prefer … just make yourself at home.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Davies,’ I answered. ‘I must admit I enjoyed the candlelight … everywhere looked so romantic and slightly spooky. I could imagine just what it was like to have lived in the castle years ago.’
‘Yes, that’s what I’ve always loved about the castle too,’ Mrs Davies agreed. ‘You could be in another time when the candles are lit.’
‘So much depends on the light and the weather,’ added Elsa, when we were sitting down again. ‘It can be romantic, gothic, cosy or terrifying, all in the space of an afternoon depending on the light or whether there are sunshine or storms.’
‘I hope Harry managed everything he needed to do in the power cut. Have you seen him?’ I asked, wishing he could be there with us and hoping against hope he might appear.
‘I’m afraid Harry had a bit of a night of it,’ Elsa replied, buttering a piece of toast, simultaneously flicking a stray blonde curl out of her eyes. ‘Our uncle couldn’t sleep, and was very restless. He has a habit of roaming the castle when he’s like that … I do hope you weren’t disturbed.’
‘Oh, not at all,’ I said thinking back to my late night reading, making a mental note to lock myself in my room when I went to bed in future.
‘Harry is having a lie-in, and sends his apologies, but we’ll see him this afternoon. I’m put in charge of your entertainment this morning. What would you like to do? It’s a fine day … we could go down to the village or Harry suggested you might like to be shown round the castle.’
‘I should love to have a guided tour,’ I said. ‘If I’m not disturbing you, Elsa … you’ve probably got a lot to do.’
‘Not until later … the nurse comes and stays all day so I’m quite free.
What would you like to see first? There’s the old castle ruins, which are quite splendid, and best enjoyed in the sunshine or I can show you round the rest of the modern parts, though quite honestly they’re getting rather ancient in themselves. ’
‘I should love to see the old ruins. Harry told me about the resident ghosts, which sound just my kind of fun.’
‘Well, if there are any, neither of us have ever seen them, though they’re easy to imagine when the wind comes whistling across the top of the battlements.
There are always strange noises to be heard, though there is so much wildlife, it’s usually a stray sheep or a seagull disturbing the stones … nothing sinister in the least.’
***
We finished our breakfast and agreed to meet in the hall in twenty minutes.
Elsa said I should wrap up warmly, even though the sun was shining, so I headed back upstairs to fetch a jumper and my coat, which was drying out before the dying fire.
I couldn’t help wondering whereabouts Harry was sleeping, and was tempted to try a few doors along the corridor, though I knew I was being very selfish.
A picture of Harry sleeping was hard to erase - in my mind it was an image I could easily imagine.
I clung on to the hope that I’d see him downstairs later, even if I felt sure he’d be shattered.
Perhaps he’d stay in bed all day, I wondered, and though I knew he’d need the sleep I still hoped he might be able to get up before then.
He’d looked more handsome than ever when I recalled him running across the quad to meet me, and the memory of his strong arms lifting me gave me a lovely thought to hang onto - but how I wished he’d kissed me, even just a little peck on the cheek would have been enough.
I must have taken a wrong turning on the way back down because I found myself in a corridor that I didn’t recognise.
I heard a door opening with a loud creak, which terrified me because I felt I didn’t belong there, but before I had a chance to turn back, I saw a uniformed nurse pushing a figure in a wheelchair towards me.
She’d clearly seen me, and so I had no choice but to wait until they came nearer.
‘Slow down, the house isn’t on fire!’ the man in the wheelchair shouted, and I guessed he must be Harry’s uncle. ‘Can’t you drive in a straight line?’
The nurse smiled as they came closer, but she didn’t have a chance to speak.
‘Damned women, too many cursed females in this house. Where’s Harry? He’s never here when I need him,’ the huddled figure shouted again.
‘Now, Mr Tate,’ said the nurse, ‘you must calm down or you’ll be poorly again. Harry was up with you all last night; you can’t expect him to be looking after you in the daytime too.’
I saw Harry’s uncle sit up straighter in the wheelchair, as he realised he’d come face to face with a stranger.
‘Who the devil are you?’ he demanded, and I felt more frightened than ever. The thought occurred to me that perhaps Harry hadn’t told his uncle I was there after all.
‘I’m Caroline Heath, Mr Tate, a friend of Harry and Elsa.’
‘You know perfectly well that Caroline was coming to stay,’ scolded the nurse, ‘especially as you invited her yourself.’
Geraint Tate had piercing eyes set in a strong face, an aquiline nose with flaring arched nostrils, and a high domed forehead.
His greying hair was slightly wild and very thin, except for his extraordinarily bushy eyebrows that were almost black, making his face look very pale, and his thin lips appear strangely blue.
He did not look a well man, though he wasn’t frail exactly, but his large frame was clearly agitated, and as I watched, too scared to say or do anything, I saw a bony hand clutch at the blanket over his knees and throw it to the floor.
He struggled to his feet, shaking off the nurse’s hand as she attempted to help him, and walked towards me.
‘So, you’re the girl I’ve heard so much about,’ he said in a softer voice, holding out his hand.
I was surprised to see he was such a very tall man for he’d looked quite small bunched up in his wheelchair, and he towered over me.
He was attempting to smile, though it didn’t quite seem to reach his eyes, and his lips were pressed together in a thin line.
I took his hand in mine. ‘How do you do, Mr Tate?’ I said, remembering my manners, and trying to banish thoughts of Count Dracula from my head.
What on earth was the matter with me? I was cross with myself for thinking such wicked thoughts.
He was clearly very ill and old. ‘It was so very kind of you to invite me to stay. I must have come down the wrong corridor.’
‘You are very welcome, my dear,’ he said gently, and held onto my hand, pressing it between his large ones. ‘Come and see me later, I like company. When the bossy nurse has gone … you will come, won’t you?’
‘Yes, of course,’ I said, looking at the nurse who was smiling at me, ‘if you’re sure I shan’t tire you.’
‘No indeed, pretty young women never tire me … quite the opposite. They’ve always been my life-blood, but in scant numbers now in this house, I can tell you.
You’re just the girl I need to put the roses back in my cheeks.
I can quite see why Harry was so keen to get you here.
You come along later … we’ll have a nice chat and you can tell me all about yourself. ’
‘I shall look forward to it, Mr Tate.’
‘Call me Geraint, that’s my name. We’re going to be great friends, I hope, Caroline.’
I didn’t think I’d be able to say his name out loud. He was older than my mother and it had been hard enough getting used to saying Ellen’s given name without feeling it was very strange.
‘Well, come along, Bronwen, nurse and tormenter of mine,’ he continued in a gruffer tone. ‘Let’s get this bath over and done with.’
I was clearly being dismissed so I turned on my heel and set off back the way I’d come, finding my way to the corridor and the set of stairs which took me down to the hall where Elsa was waiting.
‘I’m sorry to be so late,’ I said, out of breath after running downstairs, ‘I went the wrong way and bumped into your uncle going for his bath.’
‘I hope he wasn’t cross with you … he has such an unpredictable temper. He doesn’t mean to shout, but he gets angry when he’s feeling unwell.’
‘No, he wasn’t, his nurse seemed to be bearing the brunt of it.’
‘Bronwen Jenkins has a heart of gold. I don’t know how she manages to put up with him, but she never loses her temper, even when he’s being really rude to her.’
‘I promised I’d visit him later.’
‘Well, you must have made a good impression if he asked you to go along. Take my advice … don’t go on your own. As I say, he can be a little volatile.’
Elsa didn’t say any more after that, and I thought I would follow her advice.
I was quite ready to admit to myself, at least, that I found Geraint Tate very unnerving, and more than a little terrifying.
I couldn’t get the words he’d used out of my head - about pretty women being his life-blood, and thought what a strange thing it was to have said.