At the top of the steps we immediately entered St Mary’s graveyard. The small church looked endearing sat upon the cliff edge, surrounded by a vast arrangement of gravestones, all of which different shapes and sizes, most of which now entangled by long grass that had been left to look after itself. From here it was only a short walk to the Abbey; you couldn’t miss it towering high in the background. St Mary’s wasn’t really that small, but compared to the Abbey it looked almost miniature.
The closer we got to the abbey the more beautiful and dominant it became; it was not surrounded by gravestones like St Mary’s church, but simply well maintained grass. Besides the wind whistling in my ear and my own footsteps we were in complete silence. The grandeur of the abbey brought goosebumps to my entire body, and an eerie atmosphere could be felt as we got closer still. Despite this I also felt great sadness that such a beautiful building could be allowed to fall into such decay. An abbey as magnificent as this should be standing tall and beautiful, not crumbling into disrepair.
Walking around the ruined Abbey I found myself in awe of it. The roof had long gone and the windows no longer glistered with beautiful stained glass as I imagined it once had; yet despite all this it was still exceptionally beautiful. There was a sense of calming and stillness as I walked around the desolate monastery. As I continued to explore I found myself caressing the cold bare stone walls, imagining how it would have looked, smelt and sounded at the height of its beauty. A gentle breeze caused me to shiver; I did not feel cold yet my body was suddenly trembling. I turned to look at Albert, but he was no longer standing behind me as I had expected. Panic stricken I exited the room which I had only just entered, in the hope Albert was just trailing behind, but he was not in this room either. I was about to call out his name when a sudden noise from behind caused me to jump; as I turned to look I could have sworn I saw a shadow disappear around the corner. Suddenly the image of the strange man standing outside my bedroom window entered my head, my heart began to race and my hands now began to shake. Where on earth was Albert?
Chapter 18
D.
I had been standing on Church Street for some time. The morning light was gradually flooding the town and the sea mist that once lingered along the dark streets was starting to lift. It had certainly been one of the coldest nights for some time. I could not get Victoria from my mind, her voice still perfectly playing in my mind like a phonograph echoing through my heart. The way she had looked at me on the bridge, her eyes soft and dreamy in the hazy light, her smile warm and welcoming. I could tell she was trying to suppress her true feelings; she was married and did not want to disrespect that lawful act and commitment she was bound by. But I knew that if she was to ever be truly happy she would need to follow her heart, and that meant leaving him for me.
It wouldn’t be long until Church Street was filled with people once more. I had been standing in a small doorway across from the White Horse and Griffin for some time, unsure what to do with myself. I was shocked when she opened the curtains and looked straight down at me, and by the look upon her face, as she stumbled away from the glass I could tell that she too was shocked by the sight of me. Afraid that she may call her husband I decided to flee, I did not need any more attention drawing to myself.
I headed along Church Street towards the 199 Steps; my destination was St Mary’s graveyard. I knew I was safe there from people, and I knew I could sit amongst my own thoughts in piece. Numerous benches lined the cliff top, looking out towards the open ocean, a beautiful scene that changed with ever season. I could sit up here for hours, and often did.
I must have fallen asleep, as I was awoken by the sound of voices. Determined not to be seen I kept my head down, carefully trying to peek over the back of the bench for a look at who was around. To my astonishment it was Victoria and her fool of a husband; but what were they doing?
I watched as they followed the pathway behind the church and continue towards the Abbey. However, I did not see her as the kind of person interested in looking at a ruined old building; after all what was there to see really other than bare stone walls that were crumbling to the ground?
I decided to follow them, intrigued as to what they were doing, and watched carefully as they entered the ruin.
I stuck to the outer walls and peered in through the empty windows in the hope of catching a glance of her. Victoria was marching ahead. She looked like a child in a sweet shop, her eyes bright and taking in her surroundings, her husband trailing behind reading an information board at the entrance. Victoria continued to race ahead, clearly excited to see more, leaving Albert by the entrance reading about the Abbey’s history. I continued around the outside of the ruin, watching Victoria’s every move. She entered a smaller room with a large open fireplace against the wall, where she placed a hand against the cold stone surround, and closed her eyes for a split second; what on earth was she doing?
By now I too had entered the ruin; I could not see her standing beside the fireplace without doing so. As she turned to take in the room she was standing in, I had to quickly crouch behind a wall so as not to be seen. It suddenly went very quiet, I was worried that she had seen me, was I to move or stay where I was?
Suddenly she came running out of the room at full speed, passing straight past me as I crouched in a corner by the doorway, her breathing slightly high. She stopped only yards from me. I was certain she did not know I was there, for surely she would have turned to look at me straightaway?
Quickly I got to my feet and dived through the doorway through which she had only just exited. I did not wait to see if she had spotted me as I climbed through a low-hanging window and swiftly made my way back toward St Mary’s graveyard.
Chapter 19
Victoria
Spooked by the shadow, I ran back in the direction of the abbey’s entrance, hoping that Albert would be somewhere to be found. I eventually found him reading a plaque on the wall, his face full of concern as I ran straight into him, almost knocking us both off our feet.
‘Slow down!’ he exclaimed. ‘What’s wrong?’
It took me a few moments to catch my breath, Albert held me in his arms to comfort me. My head tucked into Albert’s chest, I could hear his heart beating; I was shocked to hear it beating nearly as fast as my own.
‘I thought… I had… lost you,’ I said through the gasps of breath, ‘I’m alright… I just frightened myself,’ I lied. ‘Let’s go… I have seen enough.’
Albert took me by the hand as we exited the abbey and despite the state I was in, I still found myself walking through the doorway wishing that I had seen the grand wooden doors that once stood in the now empty archway.
Albert continued to hold my hand as we walked through St Mary’s churchyard, and down the 199 Steps. I tried not to look panicked. I did not want Albert asking too many questions, yet I still found myself looking over my shoulder every couple of footsteps, afraid that this nameless man was going to appear again at any minute.
Once back inside the White Horse and Griffin, my heartbeat had finally reached normal speed, maybe I was just being silly? I couldn’t even be certain I saw anybody in the old abbey, perhaps my mind was playing tricks on me.
I told Albert that I wanted to rest for a while, and he left me alone in our bedroom where I intended to have a lie-down, but after a couple of minutes I realised that I was not at all tired. As much as I tried, sleep would not come to me. At that moment I remembered the letter I was planning to write to my mother that I had placed in the top drawer of the desk.
I decided now was the perfect time to finish it, I had now spent a few days in Whitby and had much more to tell her.
Dearest Mother,
Whitby is a delightful little town, you must certainly visit sometime. Father would have loved seeing all the fishing boats that stretch along the harbour, and the sea air is so fresh.
Albert has found himself working, and has had a meeting with the local council. Still we have had ample time together to rel
ax and enjoy our visit.
We visited a lovely little establishment called the Victoria Hotel in a place called Robin Hood’s Bay. It was situated upon a clifftop with the most spectacular views out to sea.
This evening we are going to a dinner party at a council members house. I trust it will be a standard affair but I do hope it does not go on into the early hours of the morning as they often do.
I look forward to seeing you upon my return.
Love you dearly, V x
Once finished I left our room and headed downstairs to the bar area, I was hoping to find Albert there, but he was nowhere to be seen.
‘Can I help you, Mrs Summers?’ A voice came from behind me, startling me in the process. It was Mr Walker. ‘I do apologize, Mrs Summers; I did not mean to startle you.’ He looked genuinely concerned for shocking me.
‘I was looking for my husband; do you know where he went?’
‘No ma’am, I did not see him leave. May I be of any help?’ His voice was soothing and gentle, and he always spoke in a low hushed tone as though trying not to be overheard.
‘I was hoping to send off this letter to my mother, but I do not know where the post office is.’
Mr Walker grinned at me, and replied.
‘Young Tom is still out there with the horses, if you catch him before he leaves, I’m sure he will be able to take your letter and make sure it is sent off to your mother today.’
I thanked Mr Walker and hurried out of the door, finding Tom brushing down one of the horses. He had not noticed me enter the yard; he was talking quietly to himself, and as I approached I soon realised that he was in fact talking to the horse.
‘There y’are boy, nice ‘n’ clean and ready for yer afternoon nap I’m sure.’ He soon spotted me, and he blushed with embarrassment for being caught talking to the large beast.
‘Sorry to disturb your work Tom,’ I said with a smile spread across my face. ‘Mr Walker informed me that you were the best man to see about sending my letter off to my mother.’ Tom dropped the horse brush into an empty bucked and strolled over to take the letter, wiping his hands against his trousers to ensure they were not too dirty, before taking it from me.
‘That’ll be no problem at all Ma’am. I am almost done ’ere anyways, so I’ll head straight off and make sure it’s on its way today for ya.’
He folded the letter carefully and placed it into his trouser pocket and smiling warmly at me before I turned to leave.
I left the yard content; I knew Tom was trustworthy and that my letter was in good hands.
As I reached the front door of the White Horse and Griffin, I paused and wondered again where Albert had gone. I stood for a moment and looked up the street; it was still full of people, all going about their day noisily, greeting one and other in a cheerful manner. I didn’t really want to go back inside the inn, the fresh air was glorious against my skin and the gentle stretch of my legs was strangely comforting.
I decided to walk back towards the dress shop I had seen earlier that morning, and if I had time I may even take another peek at the Whitby Jet shop; they weren’t too far from the inn, so I know I wouldn’t be away long. Walking along the street I passed countless people, most of whom smiled at me and wished me a good day. I still was not used to such friendliness; never in London would a complete stranger wish me a good day.
I reached the small dress shop and was disappointed to find that they had closed early. I continued up the street towards the Jet shop, I could admire the jewellery from outside the window. I was again mesmerised by the beautiful jewellery displayed. The uniqueness of the jet stood out from other stones and gems, its darkness somehow warming and attractive, yet at the same time with a harshness about it that surrounded it in mystery and intrigue.
I did not go into the shop, through fear of trying something on and wanting to keep it. I must have spent nearly ten minutes admiring the contents of the windows before finally retreating back up the street.
I returned to our room and began reading my book when Albert finally arrived back. He entered the room and instantly took me into his arms, leaning into me for a kiss.
‘Did you enjoy your rest darling?’ he asked.
‘I didn’t sleep in the end; I wrote a letter to my mother and came looking for you downstairs.’
‘Oh I am sorry,’ Albert said, leaning in to kiss me again. ‘I thought you would have been asleep so I went for a walk.’ He had been gone less than an hour, so I was not angry. Yet being in the room alone had started to become tedious.
This evening we were going to the dinner party about which Albert had informed me this morning. I was not particularly looking forward to it, but hasten to say I knew it was expected of me to attend.
We left the White Horse and Griffin just after 6 o’clock; Tom had his horses and carriage ready and waiting for us.
‘Evenin’ Sir, Madam,’ he said as he opened the carriage door for me. ‘A bitter wind blows tonight; I hope you will be warmly wrapped for your journey.’ He spoke to us with wisdom beyond his years, an old soul within the body of a child. He was right though; a bitter cold breeze gushed along Church Street and caught against my dress. My long black dress with sleeves did nothing to protect me from the cold, and the gloves I wore barely protected my fingers against the harsh bitterness of the evening. I looked down at young Tom, standing there in barely a scrap of clothes, yet he did not seem fazed by the cold at all.
‘By the way ma’am,’ he said before closing the door, ‘your letter was sent off for ya.’ I smiled at him in appreciation before he closed the door tightly behind us.
The carriage still had a blanket draped on the seat, which I quickly placed over my knee for extra warmth; Albert took off his scarf and offered it to me, but I politely declined.
It was already nearly dark outside, and the streets were again beginning to empty.
We travelled though the darkness, noticing that still no streetlights were lit, yet as we rode over the small river bridge I could see the masses of sea fog already beginning to make its way into the harbour. The lighthouse’s beam lit up the sky above just enough to see where we were headed.
The carriage ride did not seem to take very long, and we travelled in perfect silence the entire journey, as if scared to make a noise in such silent streets. The horses’ hooves against the cobbled roads was the only noise to be heard.
We pulled up outside a large row of houses, each of which stood four stories high and three large windows wide. All the houses looked the same, with stone steps leading up to a grand doorway, with a brightly coloured door and a large brass door knocker. Barely a second after Albert knocked on the door, it was opened and we were greeted by an elderly gentleman in a suit. It took my eyes a moment to adjust as the light from the lobby beamed onto the dark front porch. Inside the spacious lobby the man took Albert’s coat, hat and scarf, along with my hat to be hung up. The noise from the next room was already overwhelming, an enormous contrast from the silence of the street we had just left behind.
The elderly man ushered us into the room where we were instantly hit by the heat of the large fire blazing directly opposite, which roared with force inside an enormous open fireplace. The room was a large formal sitting room with a variety of casual seating dotted around the room. I followed Albert closely, and had barely taken two steps into the room when a rather round looking man with an enormous dark greying beard jumped to his feet and greeted Albert as though they were old friends. He then turned his attention to me.
‘Ah, Mrs Summers, so pleased to finally meet you.’ And the gentleman grasped my hand within his own and continued to kiss it humbly.
‘Dear, this is Mr George Harrold of Whitby Council,’ Albert quickly interjected, clearly seeing the confusion on my face as to who this man was. ‘Mr Harrold was my old mentor during my University studies and worked at Westminster for some time before relocating up north.’
‘It is very nice to meet you Mr Harrold.’ I stuttered, still a litt
le taken by this sudden affectionate introduction.
‘The pleasure is all mine, fine lady,’ Mr Harrold hollered, his cheerful voice filling the entire room. ‘Please come and let me get you a drink.’ And he took me by the arm and led me over to a small table, a large silver tray balanced on top that exhibited a small array of alcoholic beverages. Mr Harrold did not wait to hear what Albert would like and instantly poured him a whiskey, soon followed by a glass of white wine for me.
Mr Harrold then turned and began to introduce everybody in the room. Including myself and Albert there were twelve people in total, and as Mr Harrold introduced them individually I tried my hardest to keep up, I was never good at remembering people’s names and as each name was mentioned Mr Harrold also gave me a brief description of what they did. All of the men worked within the council, and all their wives looked just as bored as I was. I was also the youngest of the guests by quite a margin which didn’t fill me with confidence for the rest of the evening.
As always with events like these the men would constantly talk about work, while the women sat and politely listened. During dinner I was sat at the large oval shaped table, filled with flowers and a large candelabra at the centre, next to one of the younger women named Alice. She must have been in her early thirties and began telling me that they had hired a new nanny.
‘It is the first time she had been left alone you see,’ Alice told me, her voice high pitched and girlish. ‘I was in two minds whether or not to come this evening, as she is rather young.’ I had no idea how to respond to this, not having a child myself I felt myself slightly unqualified to have an opinion, yet the idea of having a Nanny when you are home all day seemed rather odd to me. My mother could never afford a Nanny and raised my sister and me herself, so I had never experienced the effects of such person.
D: Whitby's Darkest Secret Page 8