The Shadow of Langley Hall

by Dilys Xavier

  On his last official day at the office he took the staff out to lunch and presented Nicole with a large bunch of flowers and a cheque that made her gasp with delight. He noticed tears welling up in her eyes when they said goodbye and he had to fight to keep his own emotions under control when she kissed his cheek. He was going to miss her very much. She had not only been a loyal employee, but a friend – someone he could trust.

  The following Sunday he dressed carefully and made his way over to Langley Hall. He saw Catherine conversing with a woman in a flowery outfit and a man who had obviously spent time in the army, and made his way towards them. His eyes ranged over her outfit as she acknowledged him. The tip of a tastefully arranged handkerchief peeped out a top pocket of her dove grey Jaeger knitted two-piece suit that was enhanced by scalloped silk blouse with a high neck line. Her flowing hair had been pulled back into a chignon and fastened with a simple gold clasp. She looked very attractive, very elegant and, at the same time, very professional.

  After Catherine had introduced him to Monica and Brigadier Swift, she took his arm and gently drew him away to meet the rest of the committee. As they circulated amongst the people who now flocked in the grounds, Richard marvelled again at her poise and self-control. She smiled, chatted and complimented everyone they met. On two or three occasions he heard people speculating about their relationship and he had the distinct impression that they had already being linked together as a couple. However she gave no indication that she had heard their remarks.

  About a half an hour later she asked him to accompany her to the marquee to make sure everything was all right. He dutifully followed her around, watching as she carefully straightened something that was out of place, or hold a perfectly clean glass up to the light to look for a smudge. She gazed around at the waiting staff and smiled approval before leading him back into the grounds. As they walked away, Richard coughed discretely.

  ‘Is all that necessary? Don’t we pay someone to make sure everything is done properly?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ she replied, ‘but you have to give the impression that you know all about these things, even if you don’t, or they might become careless.’ She turned to look at him, a serious expression on her face. ‘You have to make it clear to everybody that you are control at all times, just as you did as the proprietor of Carlisle Enterprises.’

  ‘Thank you, I’ll try to remember that.’

  By the time the last of the paying guests had left, Richard felt completely shattered. He wondered how Catherine had coped with the press of people, the everlasting questions and the lack of privacy. She had not only managed superbly, but had also extricated him from a few difficult situations with the minimum of fuss. She asked him to join her in the manor to have a drink with a number of the committee members and a few other friends in private. At last I can relax, he thought, easing himself down onto a chair, but his relief was short lived.

  ‘Richard, would you be kind enough to get me a drink?’ Catherine looked pointedly at the temporary bar set up in the corner. ‘No ice, thanks.’ It was as if she was saying, It’s not over until the last person has gone and the lights have been turned off.

  But eventually the last person did leave and they were alone.

  That evening was a momentous occasion for them both. It helped them understand each other and explained their reactions to the events that had forced them to confront the perplexity of their predicament. One of the catering staff had prepared an assortment of sandwiches and placed it within easy reach of the guests, but it had not been touched, and neither of them felt inclined to eat. Richard topped up his glass and looked questioningly at Catherine. When she nodded he poured her another drink.

  She took a sip and then enquired how he had become originally involved in the electronic business. When he had satisfied her curiosity, she asked whether he remembered anything about his father and the life his parents lived in Cornwall. Slowly at first, and then with increasing candour, Richard spoke of his formative years, how he had striven to excel at everything whether it was academic or sport orientated. He went on to relate how his mother’s aunt had helped them cope with the financial burdens that were incurred as he pursued his goal to attend university.

  ‘That’s enough of me,’ he concluded. ‘I’ve probably talked for too long anyway, and now it’s your turn.’

  Catherine took a deep breath before she began, her voice barely audible, but as she continued her intonation became stronger. After she had outlined her relationship with Sir Hugh Williams, she spoke of the years that followed her mother’s untimely death. It soon became obvious that her well-being had suffered at the hands of uncaring nannies who, for the most part, were ill trained for their role in the grand house. She went on to talk about her years at college and her determination to fulfil her obligations at Langley Hall, and she described the valuable support she had received from John Sinclair and her confidante, Josie Billings.

  As her voice trailed off she sighed.

  ‘And now I’m ... I’m ... never mind.’ She tightened her lips just a little and then leaned forward to place her glass on the table in front of her.

  Richard was tempted to ask if she wanted a refill, but changed his mind when he climbed unsteadily to his feet. He smiled.

  ‘Well, I guess I’d better ...’

  ‘ ... you’d better stay here for the night,’ Catherine said with a hint of a laugh. ‘It wouldn’t do for the new Squire to be picked up for driving under the influence, would it?’ When he nodded acceptance of the offer, she continued. ‘I asked Pippa to prepare a room - just in case.’ She stood up and walked towards the door. ‘It’s the second on the left off the minstrel corridor.’

  Richard paused when they reached the bottom of the staircase and reached out as if to touch her cheek. In the same instant she gently swayed towards him. The moment was charged with intent, with desire, with endless possibilities. And then as suddenly it was gone.

  ‘Goodnight,’ he said, softly, ‘and thank you once again.’

  When he awoke the next morning the memory of what had taken place the previous evening flooded back into his mind. He remained in bed quietly savouring the experience for a few minutes before getting dressed and making his way downstairs. A hush seemed to engulf the house. Peering into the sitting room he saw that nothing had changed since last night; crumpled paper napkins, unfinished drinks and overflowing ashtrays still littered the tables. Almost tiptoeing out of the room he made his way to the front door and let himself out.

  The morning breeze carried the sound of a barking dog to his ears, and when he looked for it in the direction of the stable area he noticed two horses being ridden across a nearby field. There were still a number of cars parked on the drive, their owners evidently having decided not to risk driving home in an inebriated state. He grimaced as he reached his own vehicle and surveyed it – someone had backed into the near-side and damaged both doors. Ah well, he thought, at least I wasn’t in it at the time.

  Taking one last look at the manor he slipped in behind the steering wheel and started the engine.

  *

  Catherine was relieved to find that Richard had already gone when she came downstairs the next morning. She too had been deeply affected by what had transpired the previous evening and she did not want to have to face him again until she had resolved it all in her mind. As she sipped her first cup of coffee for the day she reflected on their conversation. The man’s openness and sincerity had allowed her to see what type of person he really was, and it had encouraged her to be equally open about her own life. Once again she found herself wondering what might have happened if she hadn’t been engaged to Peter when they first met. Well, it was too late now to consider what might have been. It was time to pack up her things and move out.

  The next few days were spent transferring her personal furniture and other belongings in the Lodge. Leslie had promised to care for her horses until she could arrange alternative stabling. There remained only on
e task – to sign the last of the papers to relinquish her position at the manor.

  That evening Catherine walked through the magnificent building for the last time, running her fingers over the fine furniture and vases as if to imprint them on her memory. She paused in each room to drink in the atmosphere, fingering the texture of the drapes and furnishings to savour the distinctive smell of the house before she left. It was as if she had to say goodbye to every part of the manor. The portraits on the walls stared back at her, silently acknowledging her whispered farewells, as though they too knew she was leaving.

  It was late when she finally dragged herself off to bed in one of the guestrooms. She tossed and turned until, exhausted by the thoughts that chased around her mind, she slipped into a troubled sleep. The next morning she placed her hand luggage on the back seat of the Mazda and then went back into the house to say goodbye to the staff. Sally wept softly and Dave swallowed noisily a few times as she thanked them yet again for their loyalty. Even recent arrivals, Leslie and Pippa, seemed overcome with emotion.

  A feeling of desolation swept over her as the front door closed behind her. It was the end, the end of a lifetime, the end of everything that she had held dear for so long. Then resolutely setting her face she climbed into the car and headed down the drive and out through the main gates.

  The trip to Fishguard took much longer than she had expected. Mile after mile of cones forced the traffic into one lane forcing the vehicles to move along at a snail’s pace. She barely made it to the ferry terminal in time. Exhausted by the trip and the events of the morning, she slumped down onto a lounge chair and closed her eyes in an effort to shut out the world around her. Unwilling to drive across the country in her present state of mind she booked into a hotel as soon as she collected her baggage and left.

  The dull overcast sky that greeted her next morning only added to feelings of dejection and it persisted all morning. In an effort to take her mind off things she left the main road and made her way at a leisurely pace through the little-used back roads and quiet country lanes. By the time she drove into her cousin’s farm the sun had peeped out from behind the clouds and she felt a lot better.

  Louise’s two boys raced out to meet her as she stepped out of the car. They had been away camping on her last visit, and now Tommy asserted his right as the older one to carry her luggage inside. But not to be out done, Chris dutifully held the door open and generally got under foot. Although Tommy was highly embarrassed that his voice was breaking, he hung around Catherine until his mother told him to stop bothering her.

  ‘He’s just begun to notice the girls,’ Louise said, shoving the gangling, spotty, fifteen-year-old out the door with the admonition to help his father with the cows. She clasped Catherine to her ample bosom when they were alone. ‘Are you all right, dearie?’

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ Catherine answered, rather too quickly. ‘I’ll get over it in time.’

  The next morning she drove the two boys down to the beach, where they walked barefoot along the golden sands, picking up shells and all manner of flotsam and jetsam that littered the foreshore. When they returned home, Louise told her that Liam had rung to say hello, and that he would call again in the evening.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Two days after Catherine vacated Langley Hall Richard asked his accountant to meet him at the estate to introduce Leslie Johnson. As he drove through the gates he had to remind himself that he was no longer a visitor who came by invitation, but the now the rightful owner of this magnificent edifice.

  He stopped outside the Lodge and stared at the squat black and white building and wondered what had gone through Catherine’s mind as she moved her furniture into its limited space. It seemed so small in comparison to the manor. She’s done the right thing in buying another property, he mused. If I were in that position, I wouldn’t want to live in the shadow of my old home either.

  Then shoving the car into gear he continued up the driveway. He climbed out of the car and made his way towards the building. What was he supposed to do? Knock, and wait for someone to let him into his own home? Open the front door with the key he held in his hand? Or should he walk around to the side door to let himself in? Maybe he should have phoned to say he was coming.

  ‘Morning, guv.’ The greeting took him by surprise. Richard spun around to find Dave walking towards him. ‘I’m just doing a bit of trimming,’ he remarked, pointing to the nearby hedge, as if he’d reported to Richard all his life. ‘Got to cut them back this time of year.’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Richard said, gazing at the man absentmindedly. ‘The place is a credit to you, er, Dave. Yes, you’re doing a wonderful job.’

  ‘Thank you, sir, and welcome to Langley Hall.’ The man shuffled his feet as if unsure of how to frame his next words. ‘Er ... er would you prefer to be addressed as Sir, or Squire?’

  ‘Oh, I think Mr Carlisle will be fine, Dave. Yes, that’s probably better.’

  When the man returned to his hedge trimming, Richard sighed deeply. He had envisaged something completely different to the gardener’s welcome. Richard had half expected to find the staff all lined up waiting for him as depicted in period films, but then he reminded himself this was not Victorian England. At that moment a figure appeared at one of the upstairs windows, but before it disappeared, he recognised it as Pippa Johnson.

  She opened the front door as he was about to reach for the knocker.

  ‘Good morning, Mr Carlisle,’ she said, almost curtsying. ‘I’m sorry, but I didn’t expect you this early.’ She stood to one side. ‘Should I call my husband?’

  ‘Er, no, not just yet,’ Richard replied, hesitantly. He walked across to the portrait of Sir Hugh. ‘This was my grandfather,’ he said, staring at the stern face. He was about to say that he’d never met the man when he realised he was alone. Pippa had gone to make some tea.

  He followed her into the kitchen and told her not to bother for the moment.

  ‘I’m expecting my accountant at any moment so I’ll wait until he arrives. In the meantime I’ll just a have a look around. It won’t be necessary for you to accompany me; it’s not a tour of inspection or anything like that. I just want to ...’ He stopped as she excused herself and left the room.

  Richard walked into the sitting room gazed around. It seemed so empty. Not empty of furniture, but empty of something. The feeling was to remain with him as he wandered from room to room throughout the house. It wasn’t until he walked into the area that had included Catherine’s apartment that he realised what was missing. It was Catherine Lowestoffe. In his mind, she had always been a part of the place, and now that part was missing. He recalled his words to her when they had last met. ‘If I had known you better, and understood your relationship with Langley Hall, I might not have pursued the matter with such urgency or enthusiasm. I might even have left things as they were.’ The words were as clear as if he had just spoken them, and they took on an even deeper meaning as he looked into the room where she had slept. Now he really did feel like an interloper.

  As he continued to wander around the upper floor he recalled Cecile’s admonition. ‘I won’t live with you at Langley Hall. I don’t even want to go near the place. It’s Catherine’s house and it always will be hers, to my mind.’ Richard supposed that she would probably have felt that she was usurping Catherine’s role under the circumstances. When he considered how easily their relationship had unravelled he marvelled that she had made a commitment to him in the first place. And how did he feel about her now? Strangely unconcerned. The excitement that had carried him along had not allowed him to stand back and get things in their right perspective until it was almost too late.

  ‘It looks as if Aunt Agnes was right all the time,’ he murmured. He had allowed his feelings to overrule his common sense.

  When he returned to the ground floor, Leslie Johnson was waiting for him. The estate manager wanted to query a few things, nothing of much importance, just something to show he deferred to Richar
d as the owner. They discussed a few matters as they walked around the outbuildings and over to the stables. Leslie rubbed the ears of one of the horses.

  ‘Is there any particular horse that you would prefer to be kept solely for your use?’ he enquired.

  Richard looked at him in amazement and then broke into laughter.

  ‘You’re going to find this hard to believe, Leslie, but I’ve never ridden a horse in my life. Not even a donkey at the seaside.’ He gingerly reached out to touch the nearest animal, and then pulled back as it jerked its head away. ‘I’m going to have to take lessons, or leave it to the experts.’

  The sound of a car coming up the drive interrupted their conversation.

  ‘That’ll be Derek Hislop, my accountant,’ he said, by way of explanation. ‘I’d like you to meet him.’ As they walked away from the stables he added, ‘I’m going on an overdue holiday starting next week, so I will move my things in when I return.’

  *

  Louise continued to fuss over Catherine for the remainder of the day. It seemed as though she was trying to make amends for not attending Peter’s funeral, or for not being there when Catherine had been rushed to hospital. Liam Kelly rang that evening and was most effusive in his welcome. He asked Catherine about her health and whether she had bought another property or whether she had considered settling in Ireland.

  ‘I’ve made an offer on a property in England,’ Catherine said, ‘but I’m still waiting to find out if it’s been accepted.’

  ‘So you’re definitely going back to the U.K.?’

  She hesitated before answering. ‘Nothing’s definite in life, Liam; that’s a lesson which has been brought home to me very strongly of late. I’ve lost my Cousin John, my fiancée, and my home, all within the past few months; I don’t think I will count on anything as certainty again.’

  Liam seemed lost for words. He ‘ummed’ and ‘ahhed’ for a few moments, and then cleared his throat.