Fairytale Beginnings (3 page)

S
hould he tell her
? She might not notice anything amiss, in which case if he’d already spoken about it, he would look a complete idiot. Some days were very quiet. Maybe today would be a quiet day. But maybe he should prepare her. He didn’t want to do anything that might scare or upset her. In fact, he would rather she didn’t go down to the dungeons at all. What if it put her off working with him altogether?

She walked by his side, a determined look on her face. He had intrigued her with his evasiveness. He should have told her he didn’t have a key for it.

He approached the door, slid back the giant bolt and unlocked it with a large black key that was hanging on the wall. He wondered if she thought it odd that he kept the door locked even though there were no prisoners down there. It was quite obvious that the idea wasn’t to keep people out, but to keep something in.

He had been curious about the protection on the door when he had arrived. And although it was silly to keep up these measures, bearing in mind what was on the other side, he knew he slept better at night knowing the lock was firmly in place.

He flicked the light on, thankful at least that someone had seen fit to install electricity in the dungeons, even if the light was sporadic and dim. He knew he would have to replace some of the bulbs at some point but prolonged time in the dungeon wasn’t fun so he had been putting off the job.

He turned back to Milly, wondering which words he could use to explain, to warn her, but he had nothing. Instead, he took her hand and pulled her close to his side. He didn’t relinquish his hold on her as he walked down the cold dark stairs and he found her inching closer with every step he took.

It stank down here, the smell of stagnant water somehow prevalent. A cold draught seemed to come from somewhere but he didn’t know where.

As they reached the bottom step, she stepped in closer to him, the heat from her searing up his right side. A long tunnel stretched away from them into the darkness, the dim light glistening off the muddy puddles on the ground. There were cells either side, some with barred doors, some without.

He would just make it quick. He’d go to the end of the tunnel that stretched underneath the castle into the large chamber that was directly under the banqueting hall and come back out. Hopefully no one would notice they were there.

An ice cold blast blew past them and he sighed. Today was not going to be a quiet day.

‘Is it haunted?’ Milly whispered, her large eyes looking up at him in the semi darkness.

He stared at her, wondering what to say, and eventually nodded.

Her eyes widened in shock at this confirmation. ‘Are you serious?’

He nodded again. ‘It seems they like to congregate down here.’

‘They?’

‘There’s one that I’ve seen. I think there may be more that don’t show themselves…’ he trailed off. She looked absolutely terrified. He put his arm around her. ‘We can go back up to the main castle. There really isn’t a lot to see down here. I can take any photos or samples you need for your survey.’

She shook her head. ‘No. I want to see them.’

He felt his eyebrows shoot up. She was going to continue to surprise him, he knew that.

He stepped forward and he could feel her heart battering against her chest.

‘Had much experience with ghosts?’ he asked as they stepped past the first cell, which was open but empty.

‘A bit, a few shadowy figures, a few bumps and bangs in old castles or houses, sometimes just a feeling that someone is there. What have you seen?’

‘A woman, the Grey Lady, dressed in what I assume is a Victorian dress. I thought once that I saw a little boy up in the study, but I’m not sure. I’ve heard a child’s laughter down here though.’

She stared up at him, wondering if he was serious. He wished he was joking. He had never believed in ghosts before, always thought the idea was ridiculous, until the moment he had walked down into the dungeon for the first time and seen the Grey Lady, almost as clearly as he could see Milly now. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that he’d run out screaming the first time he’d seen her, but he had made himself come back several times since, mainly to convince himself he wasn’t going mad.

‘Are they friendly?’ she whispered.

He shrugged. ‘Mostly indifferent. They don’t seem to be too aware of me. I’ve spoken to the woman a few times. I know she hears me, but she never answers.’

A cell door clanged behind them and Milly jumped.

‘Yeah, they do that a lot.’

‘It could be the wind,’ Milly suggested.

‘It could be. There does seem to be some kind of draught down here.’

A low moan sounded in the darkness and they both strained their eyes to see if there was anyone there. If so, they stayed veiled in the darkness.

A few bangs sounded in quick succession in the large chamber up ahead. Another draught of wind rushed towards them that held whispers and a sweet scent of flowers and then the Grey Lady appeared, gliding straight out of the cell in front of them and along the tunnel towards the main chamber.

‘Holy shit!’ Milly croaked.

She took a tentative step to follow the lady. He had to hand it to Milly, although she was terrified, she had big balls.

‘Hello,’ she called out and the Grey Lady stopped, facing away from them. Milly took another step towards her. ‘I’m Milly, do you have a name?’

The Grey Lady carried on walking but as she turned the corner and disappeared into the large chamber she turned her head and looked directly at them, her eyes were cold but curious. There was an air of anger about her, as if she was insulted by the intrusion. Cameron had never seen her engage with him before. She mainly ignored his presence but Milly had somehow piqued her curiosity. He had heard rumours from the villagers of the terrible moods of the ghost against those that had angered her. The last thing he wanted was for that anger to be turned on Milly.

‘Come on,’ Milly whispered, pulling him along in the Grey Lady’s wake. They stepped into the chamber but the room was in total darkness. ‘Are there lights down here?’

He fumbled around on the wall and flicked the switch. One lone bulb lit up the far side of the room but it was enough that the light dimly filled the whole room. It was empty. The Grey Lady had gone.

C
ameron was trying
to make a cup of tea with one hand. The other was wrapped tightly in Milly’s, she hadn’t managed to let go of him yet since they had left the dungeon. She was standing next to him, very quietly. Too quiet. Despite her bravado at the time, she’d been spooked by seeing the ghost. He wasn’t surprised, the first time he’d seen the Grey Lady, he’d been terrified himself.

‘You ok?’ he asked softly.

She blinked and looked up at him and suddenly realised where she was, that she was still holding his hand.

‘God, sorry, I was miles away.’ She relinquished her hold and his hand felt cold without her.

‘Sit down a moment, it’s quite a shock. I couldn’t go down there for a week after I first saw her. Scared the crap out of me.’

She smiled. ‘You’re just saying that to make me feel better. I’m sure a big, burly man like you never gets scared of anything.’

‘Oh I get scared all the time,’ he pushed her gently down onto the bench. ‘Don’t like snakes, creepy little buggers.’

She half smiled. ‘That wasn’t a trick, was it? Something that you set up to … I don’t know … make the castle more appealing?’

‘No, I swear. I wouldn’t even know where to begin creating something that realistic. And I’m not sure ghosts would make the castle more appealing. It could mean that people would be too scared to come here.’

‘Good God no, people would flock here in their droves to see a real ghost. We could sell ghost tours, every weekend. We offer them rooms in the tower – the real, authentic rooms rather than rooms down here – people would love it. We could give them bed and breakfast too. We make up a few ghost stories associated with the place, like the history of the Grey Lady and how she died. People would lap it up.’

He passed her a mug of tea and sat down opposite her. ‘We?’

Her eyes widened slightly, a pink blush colouring her pale cheeks. ‘I meant you.’

He pulled a face. ‘I’m not really a people person. I like solitude.’

‘People need company, Cameron, we can’t be anti-social all of the time. You can be a hermit during the week and grit your teeth and smile at the tourists at the weekend. Besides, if Castle Heritage take it on, there’ll be tourists teeming over this place.’

‘But I won’t actually be living here if that happens, I can go back to my house in London and write books all day and not have to speak to anyone ever.’

‘Really? If I lived here, I don’t think I’d ever leave. I’d swish around in big gowns all day, just because I could …’

He smiled at this.

‘… That view is spectacular. I can imagine walking Gregory over the cliffs and on the beaches. I could chat to all the villagers every day.’

‘In your big gowns?’

She laughed. ‘Yes, why not? No one speaks to anyone where I live and I bet it’s the same for you too.’

‘That’s the way I like it.’

‘Wow, you really are a grumpy sod. You really wouldn’t want to live here?’

He looked around. The castle needed so much work and he’d inherited so much debt because of the place it was hard to find any appreciation for it at the moment. But Milly was right. Most people would give their left arm to live in a place like this. It was impressive and in many ways beautiful. Could he really stay?

‘Can you imagine writing your stories here? What better place to inspire you than a fantastic castle that has real ghosts? There’s something incredible about this place, something magnetic, it draws you in,’ Milly said.

He smiled at her as she looked around with such enthusiasm. He had never met anyone like her before, she lived in a permanently rose-tinted world.

‘As lovely as that picture postcard life sounds, I won’t even be able to keep the castle unless Castle Heritage can help me. Do you think they will?’

A tiny spark faded from her eyes. ‘What about your house in London? If you really do want to live here, you could sell that. How much would you get for it?’

He hated talking about money with anyone, but somehow Milly was different.

‘Maybe half a million.’

‘And do you owe any mortgage on that or do you own it outright?’

‘It’s mine, I paid for it with the proceeds from my books. Maybe I could sell my car too.’

She pulled a face. ‘You might get a few thousand for that.’

‘It’s a Vanquish.’ He waited for her eyes to light up, like girls’ eyes normally did when they heard what car he drove but she stared at him blankly.

‘Aston Martin,’ he clarified, but still she showed no sign of recognition.

‘Second hand I could probably get two hundred thousand for it.’

‘Wow, you are doing well if you can afford to buy your own house and a car like that.’

He stiffened, suddenly regretting telling her anything. He’d had these sorts of conversations before.

‘That money wouldn’t last long, it’d just about cover the rest of the debts and do a tiny bit of maintenance. I’m not sure what I would do then.’

‘At least it would take a lot of your worries away. There’s no point having two properties if you only intend to live in one.’

He sighed. ‘I’m not sure what I’m going to do. Castle Heritage is my last hope. I hadn’t really thought beyond what I would do if you don’t help me. Do you think it’s a project that you could take on?’

She stared down at her tea and cleared her throat. ‘I’d need to do all my tests and surveys first. There’s a lot of work to do, it will take me a while to cover all the rooms. I’ll let you know in a few days.’

‘Of course,’ he nodded, disappointed. Although Milly had originally said it might take her one or two weeks to complete her tests, he had hoped she might give him some indication once she’d seen it.

‘I’m going to go for a walk around the grounds, get an idea of the size and footings, see if there are any original features. You can come with me if you like, tell me more about these books you write.’

He found his jaw clenching. ‘Why do you want to know about my books? You’re here for the castle. We’re not about to become best friends. And I’ve got some work to do actually, so …’ he indicated the door and tried to ignore the flash of hurt that crossed her face.

‘Right.’ She got up and he watched her go as she closed the door softly behind her.

That’s how all the conversations with women seemed to start.
Tell me about your books. How much money do you earn?
Then, later,
Can you buy me this
? He wasn’t going to go down that road again. And annoyingly, Milly, with her sweet, honest face and childlike enthusiasm, had managed to get more from him in the first few hours they’d known each other than most women got out of him in weeks. It was much easier not to trust someone than to trust them and then be betrayed. And he had to keep things professional between them, he had no choice about that.