Halton Cray (Shadows of the World Book 1)

by N. B. Roberts

  Stacey came round slowly and began talking and behaving almost normally. It was shortly after this I felt droplets of rain.

  ‘Stace, I’m sorry to rush you, but we’re going to have to go back in.’

  ‘Oh, no!’ She twisted round to me. ‘Please don’t go in yet!’

  ‘We’re going to get soaked if we don’t. There’s a lot of rain forecast for today.’ I looked up. ‘Great timing for our party.’

  ‘I don’t even want to stay for it now!’ she complained. ‘But Darren’s coming and bringing a few people.’

  ‘What? Mrs Evans told me I couldn’t bring anyone!’

  ‘Did she? I don’t remember her saying I couldn’t bring anyone. Oh, but I’m sure she won’t mind.’

  The favouritism might have been vanquishing if the miserable old woman meant anything to me.

  ‘Well, never mind now,’ I said, flattened. ‘Come back in with me and we won’t go near that gallery, okay?’

  Her answer was a sob and a sniff.

  ‘I promise I won’t leave you. But Stacey, look up. The clouds are turning purple and it’s literally getting dark because they will open up any second and we’ll get drenched. Let’s go inside now and just sit at the front desk, near the door.’

  ‘Okay.’

  She spoke and acted so sweetly at this point, and was so genuinely scared, that my heart went out to her, as if she was my cherished baby sister. She sat on my chair and I stood next to her like a bodyguard.

  The wind grew fiercer. I could hear it rolling and falling like a tide coming in. The very last visitors at that moment left towards the car park hurriedly through the rain.

  Dan returned saying he’d spoken to Mrs Evans.

  ‘She was more than intrigued to know what it was about,’ he reported. ‘I just said she’d had a fright in one of the galleries. I didn’t want to embarrass her.’ – Stacey rolled her eyes vexingly. – ‘I said I didn’t know what happened. So she’ll probably be round in a sec.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said.

  ‘Wow, listen to that rain picking up!’ He went to the front door, hunching in his shoulders. ‘Weatherman says it’s going to get worse and go right on through the night. Wish I could get going now and forget the party! Might not make it later.’

  Stacey whimpered, so I squeezed her hand gently to comfort her.

  I was desperate to know what Thom was up to and if he’d found anything in the De Morgan Gallery. I would have gone to find him, even assess the room myself, but to leave Stacey without a comforter was impossible. So it was lucky that Mrs Evans came round within minutes.

  ‘Stacey, whatever’s the matter?’

  Stacey leapt from the chair and poured her heart out to her mentor, who consoled her with an affection I’m sure she wasn’t truly capable of. It gave me an excellent opportunity to slip away.

  With the door to the De Morgan Gallery shut, I tried the cold handle, finding it locked.

  ‘Thom?’ I called out in vain.

  I stooped to look through the keyhole and found it very dark within. I could see the window shutters now closed. Yet I felt a strong cold breeze on my eye. – Mrs Evans was calling me back to the desk.

  ‘Alex, go upstairs and find Frances,’ she directed, gently patting Stacey’s hand. ‘Ask her to come down to me.’

  I did, but stopped at the landing window to observe the car park and gravel path filling with puddles. The sun had turned in early for the night; the bruised clouds firmly drawn dripped endlessly. I found Frances in the Solomon Gallery. She was looking out at the rain with folded arms.

  ‘It’s like the middle of the night,’ she said dejectedly. ‘Some party this’ll be.’

  I looked down to the Shockers running fast and black. The trees in the meadow blew wildly about in unsynchronised waves, as if some prehistoric beast was making a path through them towards the house. I truly could wish to be nowhere else at this moment.

  Frances followed me downstairs where Stacey proceeded in claiming her attention, too. The windows were under attack from bucketful’s of rain, wind and bushes hitting them left right and centre, like the building was going through a carwash. Dan went to close the front door.

  ‘Don’t shut that!’ barked Mrs Evans. ‘People will start arriving soon and they’ll want to get inside quickly!’

  Dan lifted his blonde eyebrows and pulled the front door halfway, securing it with a wedge. The wind whistled up the sides of the building, just as I’d once imagined on my bedroom windowsill.

  By half past seven, plenty of wet coats hung on a rail under the great oak staircase. Their owners were in the Great Hall overcoming a journey through torrential rain. A vast selection of booze and food helped them along, not to mention a background of lively Christmas music. Despite it playing at a low volume, Dan had – within half a bottle of beer – made his way to a makeshift dance area with his wife, Melissa. It appeared they were well suited in that nothing embarrassed either of them, including each other. She was petit and vibrant with short black hair that she’d slicked back. They danced blissfully beneath the Minstrels’ Gallery.

  I’d changed into my dress, which was knee-length, fitted and black with large white and red printed roses. I’d chosen it especially for the party. Although it went well with my red hair, I shifted nervously in it, and longed for comfortable jeans and black cardigan. Glad though that I wore my favourite perfume; the bittersweet scent of citrus fruit undernoted by jasmine and patchouli.

  A twelve-foot Christmas tree screened a door to the north courtyard, flanked by huge bay windows. It opposed the largest fireplace in the house (the one that had growled earlier), whereby several of the Cray’s employees mingled. Some of these were people I didn’t see regularly enough to know well. They’d brought partners and I learnt their names as they came in.

  The estate manager, Rhoda, who vowed to stay for an hour at most, presently talked with Frances and her husband, Terry. He matched his wife in height and had what I heard Frances describe as ‘salt and pepper’ hair. Hovering nearby was Geoffrey and his wife, Jan. They spoke with the Head Gardener, Mike and his fiancée, Amy.

  Sitting nearby at a circular table, amongst faces I didn’t recognise, Mrs Evans picked a mince pie to pieces with her long fingernails. I overheard her telling Su that someone she’d invited couldn’t make it due to the weather, and she hoped others didn’t have the same trouble. This might have annoyed me if my attention didn’t fix elsewhere immediately.

  My heart sank as I turned my eyes on the doorway to watch Carla-Louise enter. What she was doing here I didn’t want to imagine. She wore a lobster-red halter neck dress with a side split. It flattered her slim but shapely figure in every way. Thom closely followed her and I endured a burning sensation in my stomach. She looked back to him with a huge smile painted in shiny red lipstick, before eagerly grasping his arm. I felt almost dizzy with nausea. I waited for his black orbs to seek and discover me, as they were so accustomed to doing, but they did not. He didn’t look into the room at all, because Carla-Louise occupied his gaze fully – her and anyone who approached them to say hello.

  It was a blow, and I had nobody to lean on.

  Poor excuses to leave early bombarded my mind. I couldn’t think of one believable pretext. Though the idea of allowing anyone to drive me away had me finding reasons to stick it out. I celebrated my self-restraint by finishing the wine in my glass before heading for the inevitable refill. However, I selected a soft drink instead, as giving spirit to my present feelings could only humiliate me.

  Dan and his wife, Melissa, signalled for me join them on the dance floor. Their timing couldn’t have been more off. I contrived a smile and waved once, pretending this was all I understood of their gestures. My stomach, shrivelling to the size of a nut, ached as my eyes regularly drew over to Thom, despite my efforts not to look.

  Dan and Melissa didn’t buy my pretence, but moved my way.

  ‘You look like you could do with a good dance, Alex.’


  ‘I’m fine, thanks, Dan.’

  They each laid an officious hand on my arms and began pulling at me.

  ‘Oh, come on,’ urged Mel, ‘it’s much more fun on the dance floor!’

  ‘Maybe later.’

  ‘You know you want to!’ added Dan.

  ‘Really, I’m not in the mood right now.’ I smiled and pulled back. ‘Maybe later,’ I repeated, hoping my voice didn’t break.

  Dan sighed, ready to give up.

  ‘Oh look, Danny,’ said his wife. ‘Isn’t that your boss, Thom? He looks a bit friendlier with a woman on his arm. Wow, she’s stunning! Let’s ask him and his girlfriend to dance!’

  ‘I can’t see him saying yes, pumpkin,’ Dan replied.

  ‘But she might, and he’ll have to join in if he wants to keep her happy!’

  ‘I reckon that’s his objective.’ He giggled.

  Having spied a chair to one side of the aggressive fireplace, I moved that way in order to keep out of Dan and Mel’s reach. Only on passing groups of chatting people, Geoffrey asked to introduce me properly to his wife, Jan. She was an odd lady and not shy to get festive. She wore a green dress, plastic elf ears, and bells on her shoes. Although the woman gave real meaning to that term skin and bone, I overheard Carla-Louise spitefully deem her ‘A scrag end of lamb’ in a whisper.

  Hoping the woman hadn’t caught it, I asked her if she’d been to Halton Cray before.

  ‘What was that, dear?’ She leant a pointy ear towards me.

  ‘You’ll have to speak up,’ said Geoffrey, winking. ‘She’s a bit deaf.’

  ‘I’m not deaf!’ She widened her eyes at him. ‘I just choose not to hear you sometimes.’

  Geoffrey hid a smile behind his gin and tonic as he took a sip. I would have repeated my question, but Mike began complimenting Jan on her outfit. I chatted meanwhile with his fiancée, Amy. She was polite and not far off my own age. It would be easy, I thought, to pass the time with these people. Anything to distract me from Thom and that awful woman people termed his girlfriend.

  ‘Well,’ said Amy, ‘it’s a pity to leave when the party’s just getting started, but we can’t risk driving back with the weather getting worse.’

  ‘Rubbish!’ said Jan. ‘A bit of rain won’t stop you getting home in an hour or two. You can’t desert us just yet.’

  ‘Well, maybe another half-hour,’ Mike conceded.

  I instinctively turned my head at the sound of Thom’s voice telling Dan he wasn’t inclined to dance.

  ‘How could anyone,’ scoffed Carla-Louise, ‘to such horrific music!’

  ‘It’s not that bad,’ said Mel.

  ‘Not if you’re tone deaf,’ she returned, flicking her dark sleek hair back to reveal perfectly bronzed shoulders.

  ‘It’s just a bit of fun,’ added Dan. ‘If anyone can get Zorro here on the dance floor, it’s you, señorita! Or is it señora?’ He frowned. ‘I forget!’

  ‘Oh, good God!’ she huffed, turning her strong coffee-coloured eyes on her date.

  At this point Thom shot Dan a look of complete annoyance, which made Carla-Louise edge back. I was very familiar with the sudden flash of alarm in her eyes. I’d witnessed strangers react in the same way to him; something they saw that I believe I was blind to. She tried to forcibly overcome the feeling, I thought, by behaving almost desperate to please him. Her eyes though told me a different story, and soon she excused herself a moment.

  ‘Hey, come on,’ said Dan, smiling and holding his hands up. ‘It’s just a bit of fun.’

  ‘I’ve told you before, Dan, not to interfere.’ Thom shifted awkwardly and caught sight of me standing nearby. Our eyes locked momentarily and then divided.

  ‘You’re ruining my chances,’ he muttered, ‘not improving them!’

  ‘Ruining them?’ repeated Dan. ‘She’s here, falling all over you, isn’t she?’

  ‘Yes, Dan, I suppose she is.’

  ‘So, are you going to make things official?’

  Thom didn’t answer, to my knowledge – I heard nothing before Carla-Louise re-entered the room looking immaculate as when she’d left. She seemed to have recovered from the passing panic, or found she could better manage it, and again groped for Thom’s arm, which he gave freely.

  I moved farther off, though my eyes would wander back to him. When anyone spoke to me I found it difficult to keep eye contact, much less reply coherently. Therefore, the question most commonly put to me was –

  ‘Is anything the matter?’

  ‘No, Frances, I’m fine.’

  ‘You don’t look it. There’s a raincloud over your head.’

  I instinctively looked up, and realised just how distracted I was.

  She laughed.

  Unless Thom kissed Carla-Louise right there in front of me, it certainly couldn’t get any worse. – Strike that. – Stacey entered the Hall at that moment leading a small group of people, one of whom was Mark! His eyes sought me immediately and on finding me, he bobbed his head in a friendly but dubious hello.

  I recognised Stacey’s boyfriend, Darren. The other couple I didn’t know. Stacey towed her friends over to me with Mark hanging back.

  ‘Stace,’ I whispered, ‘you brought four guests!’

  ‘Three really! Mark is for you.’ She grinned. ‘Anyway, no one’s gonna mind! I knew you wouldn’t bring anyone.’

  ‘I might have brought someone if Mrs Evans didn’t specifically tell me I couldn’t. Yet everyone else I see has a partner.’

  ‘Well, now you do!’ She pointed to Mark, who was talking with Darren, and occasionally looking over to me with a penitent smile.

  ‘So this is my cousin, Courtney, and her boyfriend, Lee.’ Stacey gestured as I said hello to her guests.

  Mark hesitated and then walked my way. A certain pair of dark eyes followed him to where he stopped in front of me.

  ‘I hope you don’t mind Stacey inviting me, Alex?’

  ‘I wasn’t prepared for it, but we’ll have to see.’

  ‘At least you’re honest. I’d still like to be friends, and I can start by getting you a drink.’ He pointed to my empty glass.

  ‘That’s okay. I’m going over there anyway to choose.’

  ‘So I’ll come with you and grab something, too.’

  At the drinks table I overheard Frances’s husband, Terry –

  ‘Are we going to get a tour of the house, or what?’

  ‘You only had to ask,’ murmured Frances, nudging him.

  Others opted to tag along, too, until nearly everyone headed for the door. Carla-Louise vowed she had no interest in the house itself, only in some antiques it contained. Thom would undoubtedly stay behind with her, and if I remained, Mark would probably choose to stand by me. On the threat of that foursome, I moved eagerly with the rest.

  ‘Sorry to leave early,’ interrupted Amy, clinging to Mike’s arm, ‘but we’re going to make a dash for our car, since the weather is getting worse. But we hope you all have a great time!’

  They went out the main door as the rest of us headed upstairs. We heard car alarms going off just as the rain turned to hail. In order to see the car park we moved straight for the landing window, which most of us did – we were too curious. It had an excellent prospect of the path and side gates to the car park. (I believe Thom had once watched me from here getting into Mark’s car.) Pressing our faces to the freezing glass, we struggled to see through the soggy air. Orange flashes from a couple of cars illuminated the great stream of rainwater rushing along the edge of the car park. What really seized our attention was immediately below on the gravel path.

  The couple fleeing the dry safety of the house braved the wildness of wind and hail. Amy screamed as ice pelted her. We could just about hear her over the deafening beat of it against the house. With her hair in her face, she struggled on by keeping one hand in her fiancé’s and the other on her collar. Mike led the way, taking the brunt of the weather like a man, though it forced him back several times. They were only halfway
to the gates and both were soaked through. One fatal gust swept in and knocked Amy so violently to one side, she fell from the path onto the muddy grass and he went down with her. The pair got back up and now painted brown, continued to the gates. They disappeared round the corner and we wished them good luck, and no doubt pined for some more of that kind of entertainment.

  Melissa hugged closer to Dan. ‘We’re definitely waiting out the storm.’

  Dan nodded, as others vowed to do the same.

  After a brief tour of the house, we all returned to the Great Hall where Thom and Carla-Louise chatted. Lee and Darren headed for the food table where they filled some plates and sat under one of the huge bay windows. From here they could watch the hail – now rain again – and still be next to a radiator. Not that these warmed the place. They were like the ones at school: red-hot to the touch but didn’t seem to heat anything else.

  The CD currently playing jumped repeatedly, and Mrs Evans, who had organised the music, wouldn’t allow anyone near the stereo. It then refused to play any CDs. She tried the radio, which did nothing but blare mixed frequency noise.

  ‘Radio never works in this old place!’ she remarked.

  ‘Cool!’ said Lee, bobbing his head. ‘Like the Bermuda Triangle.’

  With no music and the storm as the only background noise, a seriousness fell upon the room. Many of us took chairs and brought them close to the bay windows where rain crashed against the glass. Mark shadowed me closely.

  Even Thom sat down, nearly opposite us, with Carla-Louise at his side. He didn’t look at me once. Although I saw his fierce glare shift regularly in Mark’s direction. When Mark noticed this he gulped heavily and tried not to meet those dark eyes again. Stacey meanwhile whispered something into Darren’s ear while practically pointing at Thom. Despite upsetting me by bringing a date, I felt sorry for him. Carla-Louise continued flirting with him, but she didn’t seem to possess any genuine affection for him, I thought. There was something missing from her glances his way. Besides this, most other guests, including many who worked at the Cray, avoided him like a pandemic.