My quest took me to the first floor where of the five rooms, one was locked and wouldn't budge even with a slight bump - or a much bigger slight bump that bruised my shoulder. Three were bedrooms all larger than my current but nothing outstanding and the forth a deep and wide bathroom with beautiful blue paint and coral curtains hanging either side of a viewing window that through a patterned net curtain displayed the expansive gardens in all their glory. The bath was sat upon four curved legs in the middle of the real wood floor. I mean, it’s was just sat in the middle of the room, no wall to butt up to, no corner to hide in, just a beautiful curving bath sat upon polished oak timbers surrounded by space. There was a sink of carved stone on a pedestal with a cake of soap of sapphire blue sitting untouched between two curly silver taps. It took all of my willpower to not strip off straight away and plunge myself into a steaming bath. I have never been so glad I brought the good shampoo.
Reluctantly leaving the bathroom I headed back to the stairs and walked the eighteen steps to the second floor. Four rooms stood two abreast in the small landing and I opened them in turn clockwise. The two at the rear of the house were store rooms, one had an iron bed frame with no mattress, which I learned later was the maid's room when servants were employed, boxes piled three high and room deep in neat rows with a smell of old paper.
It was the two doors that led to the rooms at the front of house that made my jaw drop. On the left there was a huge bedroom with a bed bigger than any Sultan or Maharajah would dream of. It was covered crisp sheets of gold and cream and feather filled pillows of softest down.
I launched myself into a full body jump onto the bed and bounced into the softest and most tender cuddle I had ever received from anything other than my foster mother. A Narnia style wardrobe stood next to a dresser and vanity table that had a silver hairbrush and jewellery box which opened up to a velvet lined stacked tray containing a delicate gold necklace with a diamond drop attached in a lattice of gold thread. I knew this one thing was worth more than I could ever earn in ten life times. I shut the box quickly to avoid temptation of draping it around my neck and posing in the mirror facing me on the table.
The only puzzle in this room that I mentally noted to ask Xanthic later was a plinth next to a panoramic window upon which was an earthenware vase, undecorated, no pattern other than a wide lip, but with a hole cracked into one side, a few hair width cracks snaking away from centre.
The right hand room was a forest. Green leaved plants were heavily in abundance with lush foliage, ferns sat next to exotic flowers and trees. All that was missing was high humidity and bird song and I would have sworn I had stepped into the Amazon. The thickness of the flora prevented me seeing the far end of the room and without an obvious path I hesitated to walk in. I made a hesitant step forward, my right foot hovering off the floor and I rocked it back and forward but could not find the incentive to place it within the confines of the green. Instead, telling myself I was going to settle into a bedroom and come back to explore later and not that I was scared of a house plant or two, I closed the door behind me and hurried back down the stairs.
I chucked my bag onto the bed in the back bedroom on the first floor. I could have easily taken the larger bedroom upstairs but I am a girl of simple tastes and the smaller room more suits my style; that and that wonderful bathroom is just a few steps away and I can easily stroll from one room to the other effortlessly.
*
The zip on my rucksack is always stiff, but today it stuck. It took all my strength with hands gripped either side of the zip, fingers down in the small hole the zip allowed me to create before it skipped a beat and refused to move anymore, to get it to move. As the zip popped from its seating, the cheap metal bending and coming away, the bag opened and flew into the air as I was struck with a sudden biting pain in my left hand. I looked at my hand as blood started to swell through a rough edged tear in the soft skin of my fingers. Iron filled my mouth as I sucked on my hand, my blood touching my lips and tongue as I licked it better. It wasn't bad and the blood stopped quickly so I grabbed my favourite summer dress from the floor where it fell from the bag and opened my handbag to get the good stuff ready for a long soak in the bath.
I had to do a double take when my bag opened, it was full of money. Cash notes, legal folding tender. I picked it up and thought for a second I had someone else's, but no, no one would have an identical rouge leather with blue strap an amalgamation of two bags and a necessity when money was tight and decent nice new handbags were out of the gallery, let alone just the picture.
Pulling at least an inch of money out and holding it in my hand I fanned it out and looked at it with a smile. Some of the notes were much bigger than others with our beloved Queen looking so much younger than on current notes, there was even a folded white paper note filled with swirly and squiggly writing that looked hand written. With what I recognised as proper money I guessed I had over £700. Well what can a girl do? Out in the country, a few quid in hand and a summer dress that deserves to be shown off.
"Pub." I sang as I skipped to the bathroom with shampoo in hand. Luckily I accidentally packed my red heels as well as my sensible shoes.
18:35
An internet search of the local area highlighted three very respectable public houses within staggering distance of the house which we all know is essential for the stagger home as I was not planning on driving. Bag on shoulder and shoes in hand I hurried down the stairs to the ground floor and hopped across the cold floor in my bare feet. The front door opened and I turned to lock it once I was through. I bent to slip on my shoes, reaching for the door to balance; as my head was bowed I saw a pair of legs down the drive. Standing, I turned to face them and saw an old lady, flowing black clothes hanging to the floor. A baggy skirt lace edged and silver buckle holding a knitted shawl across thin shoulders. Within the black stood a pencil thin and as equally as straight woman, head held high and proud; piercing intelligent eyes looked straight at me without falter. Hair, greying with shocks of natural blonde pulled as tight as humanly possible and fixed with an ebony pin.
She pulled her arms across her and inflated her chest, feet tight together at the heels in sensible and as austere as the rest of her reminding me of a school ma'am in black and white films. She could have stopped an army in its tracks: She certainly stopped me.
"So you're the new one. Not much to look at." the voice was clear and carried on the wind, it was a voice of prim simplicity. I regained my own posture, which was difficult with only one heeled shoe but I could not match the formality and sternness of the stand off.
"Your life is gravely endangered by coming here so my only warning to you is to get into that car and drive back to where ever you came from and do not return here." apart from her mouth she did not move, not a muscle.
I stood, not knowing where to turn but really wishing I had not locked the door. I knew I could not fight this lady, either physically or verbally and I knew she knew this too. I felt five and stood in front of my head teacher for jumping the school pond, or more accurately, not jumping the school pond.
Through my fear I could feel my knickers full of frogspawn again.
"I....I...." I stuttered trying to engage brain and mouth to work as a partnership.
"Hurmmm." phonated the woman. "You have been warned and I say this true. Go now before you cannot." then she turned and marched with military precision along the driveway.
I watched her go, all the way to the end and past the gate house cottage
18:40
I was standing still for a good five minutes, shock fixed my feet into place and my reeling mind by-passed all other functions, apart I'm glad to report the autonomous and fluid retaining functions. As soon as composure was regained I quickly unlocked the door and slammed it behind me, checking it was closed.
What did I know. One; I was in trouble, I took that as read. As soon as Xanthic sent me here in the full knowledge I would be safe without him I knew I was probably in it, wha
tever 'it' was, up to my ears. Two; there was no sound. Of course there was sound, birds singing, traffic in the distance, the voice, but no aura-sonus as I've started referring to it after seeing the word sonus in an old book and liking the ring of it. That meant she was human, as surprising as that sounds to me now. I'm sure there are some deep level Demons that would kill to get that level of presence or an instant intimidation like that. Three: I can still walk and breathe. I'm almost certain if she had wanted me otherwise I would already be. So just a warning then, but for what and why?
I didn't want to call Xanthic for help this early into an assignment, so, unless I wanted to return home with my tail between my legs there was only one course of action to follow and it meets with one of the best pieces of advice I had been given as a young girl. If you think you are in danger head for a crowded place. Pub it is then.
Heels in hand and once again heading out the door, obviously checking the coast was clear of any or all black draped strangers. A taxi was parked outside O.K, I may be desperate for a drink after all of that but I'm not stupid, I ordered it online.
The trip was short and it took me past a church, graveyard and a copse filled with ancient gnarled trees, a children's park, inhabited by a small group of hoodies which I assume had teenagers inside them and a village green. Then just as the cabbie was trying to engage me in conversation the small village square appeared. A collection of shops housed within grey stone buildings with roofs sagging heavily in the middle stood along two side and with blessed relief a dark green painted building declaring itself to be called 'The Jolly Reaper’ by means of a eight foot wide sign above the door. £3:80 for a minute drive, I gave the driver a tenner, it was worth it for a hag free trip and not walking the stony lanes in heels.
The pub was a welcome sight, the door opened into a mid-lit grey painted room dominated through the middle with a horse shoe bar of yellow wood and brass rails and the public side stretched around until both sides until meeting a door on each side behind which was the bar and a corridor to the kitchens.
There was a collection of patrons drinking both at the bar and at table. I joined a collection of men at the bar and drew some money out of my bag. In the city it would take ages to get served and waving money around helps to get noticed, but here, well I guess the rules are different.
"What will it be?" I was asked by the barman as he ignored three young men in dirty long sleeve shirts unbuttoned to their chests showing a thick mat of hair on all of them. There was a call of dissatisfaction from the trio.
"Will you all settle down, " injected the barman, older than the three put together and a very paternal figure in at the bar. "I'll get to you all soon but the lady looks thirsty and you've been in here all afternoon."
"I'll have a glass of wine please, what do you have?" I asked.
"Um," said the barman. "we have....." he looked over his shoulder at a small half oak barrel containing melted ice and a bottle. "white or...." he changed his gaze to the back bar under the optics and saw what he was searching for. ".....red; but I think it’s a 'shirtzee' if that helps."
'Shiraz' I translated inside my head and was about to answer when...
"I'll pay for that Arn." said a male voice. I felt a warm pressure against my arm and looked to see a check shirted arm around me closely followed by a hard chest against my back. A bearded man, tanned and toned from working under the sun and still on the cocky side of 25 had stood behind me with one arm on each side resting his hands on the bar. He could be described by some, O.K most, as handsome, but right now I'll describe him as intimidating. His jeaned legs spread wide so his crotch was hovering behind my bum. There was a snigger from a small group of equally dressed and styled men sat or stood at the bar on the other side.
"Jed, remember last time." commented the barman breaking eye contact. Jed did not reply, he did not need to. The barman looked down, unable or unwilling to help and busied himself with pouring a drink.
I moved my arm to gently knock Jed's away; it was resolutely still. The smile on my face was now fixed as I thought through my options, I couldn't scream - how very unladylike, I couldn't turn around and stab him - extremely unladylike and too many witnesses and I doubt sarcasm would work - he probably wouldn't understand the concept. So, no real options but to stand here and make a bit of a fuss and hope this meathead can cool down before things get too hot. That or throw a punch and hope he's got a glass jaw.
I was saved from making a decision by the arrival of a beautiful 40 something year old woman whose face and appearance diffused the situation through sheer weight of personality and sexual arousal. The young men at the bar quickly stood up straight, some slicked back their hair with a lick and hand, others sucking in the beginnings of rounded bellies or flexing muscles. Jed, leaving me quickly, pushed his way to the front of the group and pushed out his check. They all kept all kept a respectful distance.
Behind the new comer, following on like royal maids in the wake of a Queen came three other women, all much younger than the first and although very pretty in their own right, paled in comparison to the lady. Teenagers, or only just, I thought to myself, but with poise and a superior aloof of professional models. I hated them all instantly.
''Who's your new friend Jed?'' she asked with a voice as warm and sweet as honey.
''Tis no one, Mary, we were just welcoming her to the village was all.''
The girls sat around an unoccupied low table by a large brick fireplace, cold and unused in the summer heat. Sofas came away at right angles and a straight back wooden chair with broad arms and carved legs sat between their ends, opposite the hearth. Mary saw still stood in front of the captivated boys, he was looking in my direction and I kept my gaze aimed at her because she was amazing.
Mary moved through her audience, who moved away as she passed. I noticed how each of the men stepped aside to let her pass but all touched her and allowed her body to brush past them as much as they dared; Mary showed no signs of worry. She came to me and he welcomed me to her village, she told the silent barman to put my drink on her tab; something the young men fought over to pay off. Then asked for a round of drink for her and the girls and invited me to sit with them.
"You must forgive the little boys, they are a little starved of company around here and strangers get them so excited. If they upset you I'll happily discipline them for you.”
I said they had not and that Jed was making more of a fool out of himself than worrying me and then the matter was dropped.
Mary took the throne like chair and motioned for the girls on the left-hand sofa to move up so I could sit next to her, my unlike for them did not lessen after seeing the annoyance in their eyes as they followed orders.
22:20
I had spent a very pleasant evening in the company of Mary. She was a warm and confident hostess who facilitated the conversation on through a very wide spectrum of topics; nothing heavy but always involving me and episodes about myself and from my past. I began to feel self conscious over talking about myself but Mary seemed fascinated and inquisitive.
As I talked I watched Mary, this close I could see the foundation of wrinkles beginning to crawl around her rich hazel eyes and from the points where her full red lips met. Her skin glowed with a natural radiance and although he was a little over weight, the curves rolled with her rather than against her and gave her an hourglass shape that made me as jealous as Hell. I could see why all the men in the bar couldn't take their eyes off her, she was the embodiment of a Goddess, that and she was amazingly voluptuous and clearly not wearing a bra. This could explain why as soon as their glasses were empty one or more of the boys at the bar came over with new ones.
I was here to do a job of work and investigate to the best of my very under trained ability and as pleasant as the evening was turning out to be I had to think back to why I was here and not in London with my feet up and laptop burning looking for ancient bits of crap no use to anyone under 200 years old.
“Tell me abo
ut this beautiful town.” I asked during a lull in the conversation brought forth by Mary standing up and walking with at least two young wanna-be suitors as personal guard to the toilets.
“It’s not a town.” said one of the blonder girls. “Never call it a town; We're a Village.”
O.K I thought, touchy subject – retract to a point of safety, check for missing bits i.e like a bitten off head and progress forward again with caution. That was either brilliant advice after upsetting teenage girls; or Demon-kind – probably both.
“I’m sorry, but it is beautiful here and I’ve travelled so far to be here. Can you tell me about the local history?”
The Blonde blonde appeared placated and gave me her potted history of the area; mostly about the End Of The World since the local hair salon moved to Farehamlet and she now needed to take an hours bus drive to have her hair and nails done every week.
“What about all this…..” I had to pick a word to further my conversation without alienating the crowd or being led down another long personal tragedy story; and I went for a fairly obvious one and finished the sentence with, “gossip?”
Jackpot! The blonde’s facial expressions opened up considerably and she took a deep breath to continue – and she needed it!
“Well, we’ve had TV crews and camera people all over the place, we even had the news girl from that newsy program; you know, her with the hair and fake nails. Fake tits too if you ask me. And all because a couple of stupid sheep ended up getting themselves in two bits. Georgie and me even got on camera because our house overlooks some field thing. Never did see it on TV, News is so boring and we were like so busy choosing clothes to go out with and stuff.”
Diary Of An Occult Resolution Assistant Page 9