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Authors: Holly Martin

Fairytale Beginnings (8 page)

BOOK: Fairytale Beginnings
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Remembering Danny’s threat that her car would be towed, she decided to knock on a few doors and find out where it had been taken. She just hoped she wouldn’t bump into mad old Danny again.

She knocked on one door and a little granny opened it. She had tight curly grey hair and gold half-moon glasses. Milly had to suppress a laugh, she was like something straight from a story book.

She stepped forward to speak but the old lady beat her to it.

‘Oogie, Oogie, Oogie.’

Milly stared at her in shock as she continued to chant. Cameron had warned her about this but she hadn’t actually believed him.

‘Sorry to bother you,’ Milly raised her voice over the chanting. ‘I’m Milly Rose, I’m staying with Lord Heartstone and …’

The chanting got louder and Milly quickly hurried away, fearful of knocking on the next door in case she got the same reaction. Plucking up her courage, Milly tried the next cottage, trying to ignore the little granny who was still chanting on her doorstep.

The door opened and Milly stepped forward to speak.

‘Look, before you start chanting “Oogie” at me, I just want to ask one question and I’ll leave you alone,’ Milly blurted out into the face of the old lady who had answered the door. She stepped back, noticing the curtain of silvery hair that almost touched the floor, making the woman look like an older and wiser version of Rapunzel. She was dressed completely in what appeared to be black cloak and around her feet a black cat weaved, mewing impatiently. There was a waft of herbs and spices from inside the house. Surely she wasn’t a witch?

The little granny’s chants were getting louder and louder.

‘Oh, come in child, ignore the mad old bat.’ The witch scooped up the cat and stepped to one side so Milly could go in.

Milly hesitated but the ‘Oogies’ were getting louder.

‘Leave her alone, you daft old cow,’ the witch shouted over the fence.

Milly’s eyebrows shot up.

‘Don’t you call me a cow,’ yelled the little granny.

‘Oh, fuck off,’ the witch said.

Milly had never been so shocked in all her life. Of course she had heard swearing before, she had sworn herself several hundred times but to hear profanity bandied about so easily in this cute tranquil village between a witch and a cute old twinkly granny was ridiculous. Had she perhaps travelled into the Twilight Zone when she had driven up that hill, some weird parallel dimension where the local thugs were over the age of seventy?

The witch turned back to Milly. ‘Are you coming in, or what?’

Milly hurried past her, too scared to say no.

She heard the door close behind her and she couldn’t help wondering if this was where her life would come to an end. If she’d be fattened up and thrown into an oven and eaten. She looked around for any kind of walls made from gingerbread or a breadcrumb trail on the floor from the last two victims.

The witch followed her down the hall and ushered her into the lounge. ‘I’m Gladys. Did you want some gingerbread, dear, I’ve just made it?’

Holy shit.

‘I’m kidding, I’m totally kidding! You should see your face! I’m well aware of what I look like. My grandkids love it, they always ask me to turn them into toads whenever they come round.’

Milly swallowed. ‘And do you?’

Gladys roared with laughter. ‘Of course I don’t. I can only turn people into pigs. Sit down.’

Milly did as she was told as Gladys picked up a walkie-talkie and pressed the button to speak. ‘This is Black Crow to Blue Lobster, do you read?’

The walkie-talkie crackled to life and a voice said, ‘This is Blue Lobster, go ahead.’

‘The Visitor has arrived, I repeat, The Visitor has arrived, over.’

Milly could feel her heart thundering against her chest.

The walkie-talkie crackled again. ‘Oooh I’ll be right over. Erm … Over.’

‘Bring Lavender over as well, over.’

‘Ok, over.’

Gladys sat down and watched her, a huge grin in her face.

Milly cleared her throat. ‘What’s with all this Oogie nonsense?’

‘It’s a silly myth; a sea creature that’s supposed to guard over the village and eat unwanted visitors. I’m not sure where it came from. They mostly do it to wind people up, especially your young Cameron. He’s not exactly popular round here at the moment.’

‘He’s not my Cameron.’

‘Ha, of course not,’ Gladys said, as if she knew differently. ‘The Oogie also protects us on our travels when we go out on the sea, we summon him by chanting his name and he watches over us. Well, that’s what they used to do hundreds of years ago, it’s sort of stuck as a bit of a silly tradition now.’

Milly decided to move the conversation onto safer ground than mythical sea monsters.

‘I was just wondering if you knew the whereabouts of my car. It’s a white …’

‘Triumph TR2. Oh yes, Igor took it. It was parked illegally. But don’t worry, we’ll get to that later.’

‘I don’t think those yellow lines are official.’

‘You try telling that to Igor, child.’

‘I need some things from it.’

‘Oh, we can get those for you, but it’s not like you’ll be needing the car anytime soon. Those that stay at Clover Castle, never leave.’

Milly sat up straight. ‘I’ll probably be gone by the end of the week.’

Gladys roared with laughter again. ‘I don’t think so, you wouldn’t want to miss the Summer Solstice celebrations this Friday, for a start.’

‘I have a lot of work to do, I really don’t think I can stay.’

‘Nonsense. You wouldn’t be working at the weekend anyway, so you might as well stay for the celebrations. Now this young Cameron, he’s a hot piece of ass, isn’t he? If I was thirty years younger I wouldn’t mind having a go at that myself. Please tell me you’ve slept with him.’

‘I’m not his girlfriend, I’m from …’

‘Castle Heritage, yes I know. You’re here to see if you can give him a grant for his castle. Which of course you can’t, the place looks completely ludicrous. Not his fault of course, bless him. But you knew you couldn’t help him as soon as you laid eyes on the place, yet you’re still here, so I can only presume it’s because you’re banging him. Is he good in bed?’

‘I …’

‘Oi Gladys, don’t ask her those sorts of questions.’ A lady with her hair in curlers came bustling through the open back door.

‘Of course, we should wait for Lavender first. Milly, this is Constance.’

‘How did you know my name?’

‘Oh love, nothing happens in this village, nothing at all, apart from the Summer Solstice celebrations. But you arriving, well, it’s like fresh blood, see?’ Constance said.

‘Fresh blood?’

‘A new face, someone from the outside. It’s exciting.’

A very round, very short old lady squeezed her way through the back door and Milly immediately noticed her purple hair. This wasn’t the faded greyish purple synonymous with old ladies, this was bright, Cadbury’s purple.

‘Did I miss anything?’ Lavender asked, squeezing onto the three seater sofa with Constance and Gladys, facing Milly as if they were some bizarre interview panel.

‘Milly’s having sex with Cameron,’ Gladys said.

‘I’m not,’ Milly protested.

‘Well, she wants to.’

‘No I don’t.’

The three old ladies guffawed loudly.

‘Oh honey, every lady in this village wants to have sex with Cameron Heartstone. If you don’t, there must be something wrong with you,’ Lavender said.

‘He is a paying client and it would be very unprofessional of me …’

The ladies laughter interrupted her again.

‘I’ve seen it in my tea leaves,’ Lavender said, her voice taking on a tone of wonder and mystique. ‘You and he are going to get married before the year is out.’

‘It’s June!’ Milly said in disbelief.

The ladies nodded in unison.

‘So I’m going to get married in the next six months? I barely know the man.’

‘The wedding happens very soon. When you find the right person, there’s no point in hanging around,’ Lavender said.

‘So are you two coming to the Summer Solstice celebrations on Friday?’ Gladys asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Milly said.

‘You should, it’s a wonderful, liberating evening, lots of entertainment. There’s a play that all the men take part in. We asked Cameron if he wanted a role but he said no.’

‘He’s not really the socialising, acting kind of person,’ Milly said.

Gladys leaned forward. ‘He should do it. Taking part in the play would make them love him. He really isn’t very popular with the villagers at the moment after sacking them all.’

‘He has no money to pay them. It seems his mad old uncle Boris spent every penny on big parties, fancy turrets and beautiful jewels.’

‘Oooooh … the Heartstone Treasure,’ they collectively whispered.

‘I’m sure it doesn’t exist,’ Milly said.

‘It exists, all right,’ Lavender said as the black cat leapt on her lap and stared at Milly in what she took to be an evil way.

‘Have you seen it?’

‘No one has seen it,’ Constance said.

Milly sighed with exasperation.

‘Legend has it that it’s still in the castle, that the ghost of the Grey Lady guards over it.’

Milly sat up straighter. ‘You know about the ghost?’

Lavender’s eyes widened. ‘You’ve seen her?’

Milly hesitated and nodded.

‘She only shows herself to descendants of the Heartstone line,’ Lavender said.

‘No that’s not true. There was that time that travelling merchant came to the castle, supposedly to steal the treasure. The Grey Lady scared him off, it was said he died of fright,’ Constance said. ‘But yes, other than scaring off thieves, she only appears to the Lord of the castle.’

‘Or wives,’ Gladys interjected and they all nodded at each other knowingly.

‘I’m not getting married to him,’ Milly said. ‘I was just with him at the time when she appeared. Cameron needs practical help now; money for repairs and the ongoing upkeep, which will hopefully involve hiring the villagers back again. He can’t pin his hopes on a chest of treasure that probably doesn’t even exist.’

‘He needs to get the villagers onside again, he needs their support going forward,’ Gladys said, seriously. ‘It can’t just be down to his wife to come down here occasionally and be nice to us.’

‘I’m not his wife. And I really need to get to my car.’

‘We need him in this Summer Solstice play. We need both of you to be in it. If you get him to agree to take part, we’ll get you your car back,’ Gladys said.

Milly sighed.

‘He won’t have to do a lot, he doesn’t even have to say anything. He only comes on in the last five minutes of the play, grabs you and fights off the evil Oogie monster. Then we all cheer and head off to the pub for beer and spiced wine. There’ll be snacks and drinks to enjoy before the play, there’s fireworks after midnight, it’s quite a spectacle. And I promise everyone will stop chanting “Oogie” at you if you join in,’ Lavender urged.

‘Fine, I’ll get him to do it. We’ll both do it.’

The old ladies giggled and clapped their hands excitedly and Milly wondered just what she had let herself in for.

Chapter Eight

M
illy dragged
her bags up the drive, thankful that she’d had the foresight to buy luggage with wheels on. Her equipment was really heavy and there was a lot of it.

Gladys had allowed her access to her equipment but poor Dick had been clamped and apparently he would only be released once Cameron and Milly had acted in the Summer Solstice play. It was laughable. She had never been blackmailed or coerced to do anything she didn’t want to do before but Gladys was clearly the sort of person who always got exactly what she wanted.

She walked through the kitchen door. Cameron was leaning against the side with a mug of tea in his hand. His face lit up in a huge smile when he saw her and it warmed her to see it.

‘I’ve met a few of the villagers,’ Milly said, kicking her shoes off and moving to the kettle on the stove.

‘Weirdos?’

‘Oh yes. One of them chanted “Oogie” at me and refused to say anything else.’

‘Yes, there’s lots that do that.’

‘I also chatted to three old ladies and although they were also weird, they were very nice.’

‘Let me guess, Gladys, Constance and Lavender?’

She laughed. ‘How did you know?’

‘I had the misfortune of meeting them as well. Lavender told me I’d be married by the end of the year. She’d seen it in her tea leaves apparently.’

Milly put the kettle carefully back on the stove, giving this task all of her attention. She didn’t dare tell him that Lavender had said the same thing about her marrying Cameron.

‘And how do you feel about that?’

‘I’ve been married before, I’m not in any rush to do that again. It depends, though. If it was the right person, I wouldn’t be completely opposed to it, but I think it would take a bit longer than six months to know and trust someone enough to walk down the aisle with them.’

‘I think so, too.’

He was still smiling as he watched her and it made her smile too. ‘What’s cheered you up all of a sudden?’

It took him a while to answer and when he did she was still none the wiser. ‘Fate surprises you sometimes. I just think you can have a plan in life, a good one, but that plan isn’t necessarily what fate has in store for you. Sometimes what fate thinks you need is so much better than what you had planned.’

She stared at him, knowing that somewhere amongst that nonsense was a reference to her.

She had to say something to change the subject. She was getting into trouble here and someone had to be the strong one. As he was in such a good mood, it seemed as good a time as any to bring up the subject of the Summer Solstice play.

She picked up a red apple from the fruit bowl and turned it over absently in her hands as she tried to ignore that he was watching her. How was she going to broach this with him?

‘You can eat it, you know, it’s not poison,’ Cameron said.

She laughed and took a big bite but she knew he could sense that she wanted to say something and was delaying. He stood patiently waiting for her to talk. ‘So, it’s the Summer Solstice on Friday.’

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, ‘Oh, don’t you start with that! I’ve had enough of that from the villagers; “
Will you be in the play, we need you in the play, you have to be in the play, please be in the play.”

‘Why
won’t
you be in the play? It’s just a bit of fun. Besides, you need to get the villagers on side, you’re not very popular down there at the moment.’

‘I know, I sacked them all and now they hate me.’

‘Well, this would be an easy way to get back in their favour. If it’s that important to them that you’re involved, just do it. Apparently you don’t have to do a lot.’

‘I’m not doing it.’

‘Why?’

‘I’m just not.’

‘It’s only going to be half an hour of your time.’

‘I’m not making a fool of myself in front of the whole village.’

‘But they’re all in it too.’

‘I’m not doing it.’

‘Oh, go on.’

‘No, absolutely not.’

‘Don’t be a bore.’

‘No.’

‘Look …’ Milly was about to protest some more and tell him that they were holding her beloved car ransom when Cameron’s phone rang on the table.

He stared at her for a moment before he moved to answer it. ‘It’s my PA, Olivia, I’d better take the call.’

‘I’ve got some tests to do anyway, so I’ll catch you later.’

He was smiling at her as she wheeled her bag out to the banquet hall. She needed something to distract herself and there was nothing better than spending a few hours conducting tests, especially in the old kitchen. And if Cameron continued to smile at her later, with that knowing look, she would just bore him with every little detail of the tests and everything that excited her, from flecks of paint to mortar that was hundreds of years old. That would most likely put him off her for good.

C
ameron lay
in bed staring at the ceiling; insomnia was his faithful friend. He could never turn his mind off. Normally, he would be thinking about his latest story, the twists, the turns, the conversations his characters would have, so he never got a peaceful night. Lately though, his thoughts had been about the castle too, how he could save it – or even if he should. But now his head was full of Milly.

She had spent the afternoon doing various tests and taking different samples. She had returned to the kitchen with a whole box filled with labelled test tubes all containing little flecks of what looked like dirt, but which Milly had explained were samples of paint, mortar and brick work. He had never seen anyone get quite so excited about test tubes of dirt before and he had spent over two hours listening to her as she explained the procedures for collecting the samples and testing them in the lab and what kind of results she expected to get and what it meant for the castle. He had hung on every word. For someone who had almost no interest in history, he found her completely and utterly fascinating. He had never met anyone who had so much passion and enthusiasm for their job and it was infectious.

She had gone off to bed in her room in the tower very excitedly earlier. There was something about her exuberance and love for life that he found so endearing. Just being in the same room as her made him happy and hopeful. He liked having her here.

Suddenly the light came on in the library window that overlooked his room. That was strange. Although he had seen the Grey Lady once or twice outside her dungeon, the ghosts never turned on lights. He rolled over to look at the clock and saw that it was past two in the morning.

He got out of bed and pulled on his robe. Even though the nights were warm from the day’s heat, the castle was always cool, especially at night.

He walked through the empty banquet hall and up the stairs. Light streamed through the open doorway and he smiled slightly when he saw Milly curled up in one of the chairs, wrapped in a blanket, reading a book.

‘Hey,’ he said, softly, not wanting to scare her.

She looked up and smiled at him. ‘Hey yourself.’

‘Can you not sleep?’

She pulled a face. ‘Not really.’

‘Is it the bed, is it not comfy? Is the room too cold?’

‘The room is fine.’

She looked down at the book she was reading and he suddenly realised why.

‘Being trapped in a room with a skeleton, it kind of freaked you out, didn’t it?’

She nodded. ‘It’s silly, the thing wasn’t even real. It’s just …’ She trailed off.

There was more to this than she was saying so he sat down and pulled out a chair in front of her.

‘Thought I’d read for a little while, see if it would send me to sleep, but this book isn’t doing that.’

He hadn’t paid any attention to the books that lined the library walls, they were all very old, probably mostly written in Latin. ‘What you reading?’

She showed him the first book he had ever written and his heart flipped in recognition.

‘I love his stuff, well, most of it,’ Milly said. ‘This
Dream Pirates
series was incredible, it was made into the most stunning movies, but
Hidden Faces,
the short spin off novellas he wrote about the shape-shifters, was absolutely shite. I’m hoping for better things from him for his next series.’

He stared at her in shock. No one had ever told him to his face that his shape-shifter series was shit. He knew it was, mostly because that series wasn’t actually written by him. His publishers had arranged for a ghost writer to write them whilst he had gone through the worst time in his life. But no one knew that he hadn’t written it. And no one had ever been brave enough to say, this is crap, even though all the reviewers had slated him. But Milly knew who he was, he’d seen that look of recognition when they had first met, and he didn’t like the way she was pretending she didn’t.

‘I know you know who I am.’ He stood up, all sympathy for her gone.

She looked up at him in complete confusion and then fear. ‘Are you not Cameron Heartstone? But you told me you were.’

She looked to the door, clearly wondering if she could make a run for it.

‘I am Cameron Heartstone, but I also write under a pseudonym and I know you recognise me.’

There was no way she didn’t know who he was. After the movie deal, his publicist had secured an interview with him in a hugely popular magazine and suddenly a ridiculous fan club, mostly made up of teenage girls and bored housewives, had exploded on social media. Every magazine and newspaper in the country wanted a piece of him. He’d hated it, but for a long while his face had been plastered everywhere and unless Milly had spent that time with her head under a rock, she would have seen it.

She stared at him in bewilderment as if he’d just grown a second head. Either she was a very good actress or he’d got it all wrong.

‘I’m sorry, I have no idea what you are talking about. Are you really JK Rowling, because that would be a real surprise?’

He grabbed the book from her hand and waved it in her face.

Finally the penny dropped and it was clear to him that it was the first time she had made the connection. Her eyes grew huge. ‘You’re Phoenix Blaze?’

The fight went out of him. ‘You didn’t know?’

‘No, I had no idea. What made you think I recognised you?’

‘When we first met, you gave me this starry-eyed look.’

‘Define starry-eyed.’

He replicated the face she had made when she first saw him, with wide eyes and open mouth.

She blushed a deep shade of red. ‘That was most likely my, “Shit this guy is freaking hot” face.’

Not for the first time, she had left him speechless. There were no games with Milly, no pretence, just complete and utter honesty. Yet now she knew who he was, any chance of a normal friendship or professional relationship had gone completely out of the window. Let the fawning and gold digging commence.

‘I can’t believe you’re Phoenix Blaze.’

He nodded, embarrassed that he’d even brought it up.

‘And I just told you your books were shit.’

‘Yes, you did.’ He waited for her to back pedal, to tell him they weren’t that bad.

‘I loved your
Dream Pirates
trilogy, it was amazing.’

He hated it when people fawned all over him, especially women, because he always thought they had an ulterior motive.

‘But your
Hidden Faces
trilogy, I can’t lie, it was the most awful thing I’ve ever read.’

He felt his mouth fall open, she wasn’t even going to sugar coat it.

‘I kept hoping it would get better but it was tripe. All the magic and wonder that poured from the pages in
Dream Pirates
, none of that was there. The shape-shifters in
Dream Pirates
were my favourite characters and you just ruined that. I always wanted to meet you so I could shake you by the shoulders and say, what the hell were you thinking?’

He threw his head back and burst out laughing. He really liked this girl. And she liked him too, she’d made that very clear, though not for his fame or fortune, just because of him.

He sat down. ‘I didn’t write them.’ It felt good to say that secret out loud.

‘What? I don’t understand. You just said you were Phoenix Blaze.’

‘I wrote the
Dream Pirates
series and then I sent my publishers an outline for the shape-shifter spin off which they loved. I wrote the first five chapters and then my mum died and my wife left me. I asked my publishers if we could put publication back for a year but they said no and that if I couldn’t deliver on time they’d get a ghost writer to do it for me.’

‘You’re kidding? Why wouldn’t they wait?’

‘I have no idea. At that point, the day before my mum’s funeral, I couldn’t care less, so I told them to get a ghost writer as I wasn’t going to write them. So they did. When they came out, I was horrified. They read like a twelve-year-old had written them and apart from the characters’ names and the location, nothing was what I had planned. It was shit and the reviewers and my fans absolutely hated it. I wanted to go public and tell everyone that it wasn’t me, but my publishers flat refused. They didn’t want to come out and say they’d lied to the fans. So they just said I was going through a bad patch, which anyone who knew anything about my life would know, and promised bigger and better things for my next series. I’ve since ditched them and gone with a new publisher, but those books are still out there with my name on and there’s nothing I can do to distance myself from them.’

BOOK: Fairytale Beginnings
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