Blue Moon (Book One in The Blue Crystal Trilogy) (13 page)

“You’ve succeeded from what
I’ve seen,” I complimented them all, asking, “When will you open
for business?”

“Soon,” said Viyesha. “We have
a private function to host first before we open our doors. But
enough of that, will you take tea with us?”

She went to pull a bell rope
that hung at the side of the fireplace and, as if by magic, a tall,
elegant, dark-skinned woman wearing a royal blue robe appeared with
an ornate silver tray, on which were placed a white china teapot,
cups, saucers, milk, sugar and a plate of delicious looking
biscuits.

“This is Pantera, our
house-keeper,” explained Viyesha.

Pantera didn’t say a word. She
just stared at me with a look that was so cold and hostile, it
completely threw me. Placing the tray on a coffee table in front of
the fireplace with barely concealed contempt, and ignoring me
totally, she addressed Viyesha. “Will you be requiring anything
else?”

“No, thank you, Pantera. That
will be all.”

Throwing me a further
disdainful look with her black, glittering eyes, Pantera left the
room. She moved with an arrogant, slow grace that was both
beautiful and mesmerising, and I watched her go with fascination.
She was like a sleek, black cat, mesmerising and deadly, and one
thing was very clear. She did not like me one bit.

We took tea and, for a while,
everything became more ordinary and manageable. Theo’s parents
asked me about college, university and career plans. They asked how
long I’d lived in the village, about my mother and father and what
I wanted to do with my life. I let them take the lead, answering
their questions as politely as I could, exactly as Theo had done
with my mother and Granddad.

Afterwards, Viyesha suggested
that Violet play the piano, which was unexpected, as I’d no idea
she was the slightest bit musical.

“Just one piece,” she
reluctantly agreed. “Chopin’s Nocturne in E flat?”

“Perfect,” said Viyesha, and
for the next few minutes we listened, transfixed, while Violet
played exquisitely, her hands moving effortlessly over the keys,
filling the room with sublime cadences and trills. When she
finished, there was silence for a moment, before we all applauded,
Leon calling out, “Bravo, just as Chopin played it.”

“How we imagine Chopin played
it,” corrected Viyesha.

“I don’t know about that,” I
admitted, remembering my own half-hearted attempts to play piano
when I was younger, “but it was beautiful, Violet. You are so
talented.”

“Thank you,” she said,
grinning. “Just don’t tell anyone at college. I don’t want to get
roped in to any end of term productions. Now, I must get on. I have
a Philosophy project to finish.
‘Discuss the idea that free will
is an illusion’.
Mr Harrison, you know? Apparently he’s a
stickler for deadlines…”

“Yeah, I’ve heard. Fortunately,
not my subject,” I said. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“Neither do I,” said Violet,
“which is why I must leave you. I’ll see you at college.”

“Okay, see you tomorrow,” I
said as she left the room, pleased that we seemed to be friends
again.

“Theo, why don’t you give Emily
a tour of the hall,” suggested Viyesha. “Show her the
renovations.”

“Great idea,” said Theo,
grabbing my hand. “Come on, I’ll give you the grand tour.”

“And when you’ve done that,
I’ll give you a tour of the grounds,” said Joseph, beaming at
me.

“Thanks, that’d be great,
Joseph,” I beamed back, liking him immensely.

“Have fun,” said Viyesha, “but
do remember to stay away from the old servants’ quarters.”

“It’s unsafe up there,”
explained Leon. “We have structural work to do. Wouldn’t want you
coming to any harm.”

He winked at me, which threw me
somewhat. I felt every gesture, every word and every look had a
nuance that I couldn’t quite understand, that nothing was quite as
it seemed and there was another subtle, underlying agenda that I
couldn’t fathom. Theo’s family might be beautiful, but they were
also mysterious. Perhaps it was their money or their film star
looks that made me feel ill at ease, but I felt instinctively it
was something else. Tash was right. Everything was just that little
bit too perfect, as if their veneer of perfection was masking
something else beneath the surface. I didn’t feel threatened and I
didn’t feel frightened, but I knew I must be on my guard.

We toured the ground floor
rooms first and I realised I’d never appreciated Hartswell Hall’s
vast scale. As I thought, the large room in which we’d taken tea
had once been the ballroom and was now designated for conferences.
Other rooms led off the main foyer: the old library, a glorious,
olde worlde room, furnished in red, with a vast collection of
books; the old billiards room, now a private dining area,
gloriously finished in blue; and a light airy drawing room,
furnished in yellow and cream, with a wonderful old carved
fireplace.

An inner courtyard had been
transformed into a fabulous dining area by adding a large glass
atrium, where exotic plants grew alongside wrought iron sculptures,
and the blend of old and new worked perfectly.

There was no denying, Viyesha
had impeccable taste. My only concern was the speed with which it
had been done. Surely it wasn’t possible to achieve all this in
such a short time span? I asked Theo, but he just smiled and said
beguilingly, “Once my mother has set her mind to do something,
nothing stands in her way.”

After the downstairs tour, Theo
led the way up the enormous carved central staircase. I remembered
looking through the old rotten window frames as a child, peering in
at the dark interior, thinking how scary and dirty it looked, and
how one day soon it would start to fall down. Who would ever have
thought it could be transformed into this light, luxurious country
house hotel?

There were thirty bedrooms in
the main house, with further ‘overspill’ rooms in the old stable
block. Theo led me to the left of the main stairway, where a
galleried landing led to fifteen stunning rooms, each more decadent
and luxurious than the last, finished in beautiful fabrics and
materials, and providing a level of luxury I’d only seen in
magazines.

We explored the rooms one by
one, until we arrived at the hall’s piece de resistance, the Bridal
Chamber. It was a sumptuous room furnished in pink and red, and I
glanced at the imposing four-poster bed, with its deep red brocade
eiderdown and fresh white sheets, my colour rising when I thought
of future possibilities. I quickly put such thoughts out of my
head, realising how little I really knew Theo and how, so far, he’d
been the perfect gentleman. As yet, we hadn’t even kissed, just a
quick peck on the cheek. That was all. I wasn’t in any hurry for
intimacy, things were moving fast enough as it was. But I was
concerned how fragile Theo seemed to think I was, as if I would
shatter into a million pieces unless he took great care of me.

I’d never met a boy quite so
attentive or chivalrous, and sometimes it seemed like we were
embarking on an old-fashioned courtship. Certainly this whole ‘meet
the parents’ scenario was like something from a bygone era. What
had happened to simply hanging out, listening to music and watching
DVD’s together? I was pretty inexperienced in all this, but didn’t
the ‘meet the parents’ stage happen when things got a more serious?
We’d only been seeing each other for a couple of weeks, and that
had consisted mainly of holding hands and having lunch together in
the college cafeteria. I was baffled by this strange boy and his
perfect family.

There again, life had become a
whole lot more interesting now he was around and I knew there was
no going back. Theo only had to look into my eyes and touch my hand
for every sinew of my being to become alive with an intensity I’d
never experienced before. Whatever was going on, I was well and
truly hooked.

As we left the Bridal Chamber,
he turned to me.

“Thanks for coming to meet the
family, Emily,” he said quietly. “You have no idea what it means to
me.”

I looked up at him, his eyes
full of tenderness and love.

“It’s no big deal,” I shrugged.
“Just wanted to have a sneaky peek at the hall and see what you’ve
been up to…” I grinned at him.

“And did you pick up some good
tips on interior design?” he asked, smiling.

“A few. Now I want some tips on
gardening.”

He looked at me closely and for
a moment, I thought he was about to kiss me. I savoured the
anticipation with excitement. At last! But then the moment was gone
and he turned away, saying briskly, “Let’s go and find Joseph and
see the gardens before the afternoon sun disappears. There are
plenty more rooms, but I guess you’ve seen enough furnishings for
one day.”

Just like that, the intimacy
was replaced by the commonplace, the tenderness by formality. We
were back on neutral ground.

We walked back towards the main
stairway, Theo leading the way, passing a narrow flight of stairs I
hadn’t noticed earlier. It appeared to lead to the upper floors and
looked dark and mysterious, the bannister peeling and chipped, old
plasterwork and dust littering the steps. Original gas lamps on the
walls were festooned with dusty cobwebs, draped between them like
spooky Halloween bunting.

“What’s up here, Theo?” I
called, peering up the dark stairway.

He turned abruptly, a flash of
anxiety crossing his features. “You can’t go up there, Emily. It’s
not safe.”

“It’s okay,” I placated him,
surprised at his tone of voice. “I wasn’t about to. I’m guessing
this leads to the old servants’ quarters?”

“Yes, it does, but the
floorboards are rotten and your foot could go through. There’s
nothing to see up there. Just empty rooms.”

“Okay, it’s no big deal,” I
laughed, “Let’s go and find Joseph. Lead on McDuff….”

As he turned away, I couldn’t
help but take one last look at the creepy old stairway, gazing up
the steps into the inky blackness, convinced there was another
reason why they were warning me off. A sudden cold draught wafted
down the stairs onto my face, as if the house was sighing and I
shivered involuntarily, the goose bumps rising on my flesh.

Feeling suddenly afraid, I ran
after Theo.

12. Danger in
t
he
Gardens

We let ourselves out of the huge
oak front door, lifting the massive iron latch and stepping into
the courtyard that would soon double as a car parking area. The
afternoon was still warm and sunny, giving a sleepy, lazy feel to
the grounds and the gravel crunched beneath our feet. As Joseph was
nowhere to be seen, we walked round the outside of the hall until
we were at the rear, where a swathe of vibrant green grass formed
the centrepiece of the formal gardens. We walked up to the ha-ha, a
concealed low-lying wall that formed the edge of the gardens and
stood admiring the panoramic vista that opened before us. This was
English countryside at its best, a patchwork of fields and farmland
cascading away in front of our eyes, disappearing into the
horizon.

“It’s beautiful, Theo,” I said,
mesmerised by the view. “You are so lucky to live here.”

“I know,” he answered, “but it
didn’t always look like this. Joseph has worked magic on the
grounds.”

I turned to face the rear
elevation, thinking how stunning the hall looked since it had been
renovated.

“What’s that over there?” I
asked, noticing a strange tower positioned to right of the hall.
“Come on, Theo, show me.”

Without waiting for him to
reply, I ran across the lawn, towards the tower.

“Emily, wait,” called Theo. “I
wasn’t going that way. Wait for Joseph.”

But I was ahead of him and took
no notice, giving him no choice but to follow.

I ran round the side of the
hall and there before me, forming the building’s most easterly
point, stood an intriguing hexagonal tower about five stories high,
made of honeyed Cotswold stone. It was a true Rapunzel tower,
complete with a turret room at the top and a black slate roof that
sloped steeply downwards over three decorative gabled windows,
giving it a gothic fairy-tale look. On the middle level, three of
the six sides featured long, narrow, arched windows, while the
alternate sides were each adorned with a beautiful ornate clock,
finished in burnished gold. Beneath each clock face, strange
symbols had been hewn into the stonework.

Theo caught up with me and
grabbed my hand.

“Come on, Emily, let’s find
Joseph.”

“No, wait, I want to have a
look at this tower,” I remonstrated. “It’s amazing. What are those
symbols?”

Before he could answer, there
was a noise behind us.

“I see you’ve found our
mysterious Clock Tower,” said a voice, making me turn round
sharply.

It was Joseph, the sun behind
him lighting his tousled blond hair so that it shone like a halo,
giving him an almost ethereal look.

“Hi Joseph,” I said with a
smile. “This is fantastic. I’ve never seen anything like it. ”

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he
asked, looking up at the tower. “Quite a tricky renovation project.
But I’m pleased with the results.”

“What’s it used for?” I asked,
and noticed a glance between Theo and his cousin.

“It’s just decorative, said
Theo, dismissively, “an embellishment to the main hall.”

“A typical Victorian
extravagance,” explained Joseph. “It has no use, other than looking
nice.”

“Can you get in?” I asked,
noticing steps leading up to a small wooden door at ground floor
level.

“Not via that door,” said
Joseph. “The wood’s swollen and jammed into the doorframe. It needs
replacing, my next job. There is another way via the old servants’
staircase, but that’s closed off at the moment.”

Yet again, the old servants’
staircase had been mentioned, rousing my curiosity. I was intrigued
and longed to explore the upper regions of the house and take a
look inside the gothic tower. As a child, I’d always loved
exploring old castles and country houses, relishing stories of
dungeons, priest holes, murders and ghosts. Now, childhood memories
stirred and I felt a compulsion to see inside the tower.