Bradley Windsor had turned nineteen a few days before another three-month summer holiday was about to start, which meant I was a month and a half away from turning seventeen. Only two years then I could finally leave the castle to find out what was on the other side of the blanket of clouds. To be exact it was six hundred and sixty-six days.

I walked into the kitchen and watched Cook hunched over the stove. She was plump, and her face had soft features. Her brown hair was brushed back from her face, and sometimes, she reminded me a little of a hamster. Her cheeks always looked as if she had some food tucked away in them.

Her veined hands dragged a wooden spoon around and around through the oatmeal in the big black pot on the large black coal stove. She looked up at me. “Aye, but you make a pretty picture.” She had taken care of my basic needs since I was little, so I did not take her seriously. Cook asked, “Are ye ready for something to eat?”

I smiled as I sat down at the table, as close as possible to the glowing hearth. “Always.”

I was waiting for Cook to pour the oats into a bowl, when Matilda, Bradley’s mother, came into the room. She looked upset when she complained, “Bradley said he did not want to come home for the holidays this year.”

Cook replied, without looking up from getting my breakfast ready, “When they get older, they all stop coming.”

“He says there is nothing here for him.”

 “Aye, that’s what they all say. You will be seeing him less and less, Matilda. T’is the way of life.”

Cook placed the bowl of oats and a spoon in front of me.

Matilda sighed long and sad. “There are just too many parties and get-togethers with his friends from school he says he does not want to miss, and although I want him here, I cannot blame him for feeling that way. This is not a place for any young person.”

I must surely be invisible. She was talking as if I was not even in the room.

“Soon he’ll be telling you he has a girlfriend, and then he will stop coming altogether,” Cook said.

I ate in silence, trying not to listen to their conversation.

“I think there is already a young lady he has his eye on. He is always talking about her.”

Immediately I stopped counting the days to the first day of the holiday. Even though he now never spent any time with me when he was here, it still broke the repetitiveness of my every day and although I was the only one who knew—I had a secret. I liked Bradley. I liked him so much I weaved wishes in the ever-present clouds of him and me together. I pretended one day we would find something true together, something between us, and together we could see the world, build a future together. In one foul swoop, my dreams came crashing down on me like rain pouring from a cloud.

When the bowl in front of me was empty, I stood up and placed it in the basin.

With a smile, Cook handed me a cup of tea when I walked past her toward the kitchen door. I liked to drink my first cuppa while sitting in the window seat in my room and look out at the sea. I could always determine the way the day would turn out by the mood the sea was in that day. If the sea was violent and tumultuous, it always turned out to be an awful day, but on days when the sea was calm, my days were equally serene. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, or positive thinking, but it worked out this way more days than not.

I left the kitchen with only a tiny nod in Cook’s direction.

Giles came walking toward me down the corridor. His tall, lank figure was dark as the large window at the end of the long corridor behind him, silhouetted him. When he reached me, he lisped, “Little Miss, Mr. Belvedere is asking for you.”

I still, after all these years, looked up at him and still in the back of my mind I could not help thinking that he reminded me of a snake. I blamed my imagination on my loneliness. “Thank you, Giles. I’ll follow you.”

He walked ahead of me, and we crossed the landing to go to the other side of the castle.

Mr. Belvedere, and I knew him by no other name, was my guardian. He was a recluse and preferred to stay away from the hustle and bustle side of the castle. Although, there was not much of a hustle and bustle, because most times it was just me, Matilda, Cook and Giles, but still it seemed too busy for him.

In all the years I had lived at the castle, I could count the times I had seen him on my one hand.

This side of the castle was dark and medieval looking, and I did not like coming this way. It was as if the faint light from the electric bulbs along the wall created shadows within shadows on the stone walls. When I glanced sideways, my own shadow distorted and grew into something which did not resemble the shape of my body. When this happened, I often wondered if that was what the shape of my soul looked like.

When we reached Mr. Belvedere’s office, Giles opened the door for me and stepped aside so that I could walk into the room.

I took a deep breath, feeling my chest rise, and closed my eyes for a second, before I stepped across the threshold into the room.

Mr Belvedere was a small man and the large chair he sat in made him look even smaller. The tiny hairs on his arm were unusually plentiful and the same pale shade of white as the hair on his head. His red-rimmed eyes were small in his face, and his nose always twitched in a peculiar way, almost like a rat’s nose would twitch when it was smelling something. His eyes had an animal quickness, and his instincts seemed to be as finely tuned as any creature of the wild.

The large study was decorated in dark woods and burgundy-coloured drapes. Old books were stacked all over the floor and created a labyrinth of passageways through them.

Mr. Belvedere said in his high pitched, squeaky voice, “Sit, Amber.”

I sat down on the edge of the chair placed in front of his desk and balanced the cup of tea I was still holding in my hand on my lap. I sat with my back straight and my chin up.

“After the summer, you will be leaving us,” he announced.

Leaving? Where would I go? Was he tired of caring for me after all these years? Did he think I was old enough to fend for myself? I always tried not to be a burden, to limit my needs only to basic necessities, and never asked for anything which was not offered.

Thoughts of panic raced through my mind when he halted them. “You will be attending boarding school in Edinburgh. Mr Glenfiddich informs me you are well prepared for this, and it is time for you to go.”

What did he mean, it was time for me to go?

“Your parents...” He stopped talking abruptly. “Speak to Ms. Windsor, she will help you with all the arrangements.” He turned his chair away from me.

“You know my parents?” I whispered.

He bellowed, the voice coming from behind the chair was larger than the body it erupted from, “You may leave.”

I jumped with fright and quickly scrambled from the room, forgetting about the cup of tea I had in my hand. The cup flew from my lap and the tea made an arc as the cup swirled through the room, spilling its contents.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled as I hurried to pick up the cup.

Before I could reach it, his voice said in a calm, loud whisper, it was as if it filled every crevice of the room. “Leave. Now.”

CONTINUE READING

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