Castle In The Clouds, Chapters Forty One and Forty Two (standard:drama, 3066 words) [20/21] show all parts
Author: Brian Cross	Added: Dec 15 2010	Views/Reads: 2374/1723	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Penultimate chapters of my drama set off of the north east coast of England

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

noble fashion; had he not done so I believe Miss Veronica's fate  would 
have been dire indeed.' 

Llewellyn had once more seemed absent and detached, but now he directed
his gaze down on the sleeping Veronica. 'I sought only the lady's 
protection, to cherish her and to love her...' his mouth twitching with 
bitterness he added, 'but I find her to be truly cursed. She deserves 
to be slain for she is tainted with evil...' 

'I find this whole business most abhorrent.' Taylor thrust his hands in
his pockets, glanced at each in turn. 'I shall need to consult my 
superiors. However in the light of what has been said and what I have 
witnessed, it seems I need to reconsider whether there has been genuine 
foul play in respect of the two deceased. Therefore I intend detaining 
nobody apart from Mr. Llewellyn. Though I would, at this stage, repeat 
my request for you all to remain on the island.' 

'Then please consult your superiors at the earliest opportunity,'
Rothman said through tight lips, thrusting a hand roughly through his 
rust coloured hair. 'I have no desire to remain on this wretched island 
any longer than necessary.' He cast his eyes down on Veronica, 'and I 
am certain that Miss Day would agree. Now if you would excuse me I need 
some fresh air.' 

But the desire for fresh air was not paramount in Rothman's mind; rather
it was the need to press home to Gibbings the folly of any thought of 
romantic attachment with Veronica. He'd already detected that Gibbings 
thought she was above his station, now was the time to convince him. 
He'd seen the gardener trudging back towards his tiny cottage from his 
viewpoint in the castle hall. 

*                          *                          * 

The futility of the situation had struck Gibbings long before he'd heard
the rap on his door.  What future was there for them? She was an 
accomplished musician while he was a lowly gardener. And besides, the 
upheavals on the island had begun with her arrival. He wasn't a 
superstitious man normally but he saw it now as a portent of what might 
be if he were to leave with her. And he knew he couldn't depart with 
her, no matter what his emotions screamed at him. The red-headed man, 
Rothman, had returned for her and was more suited to her standard of 
life than he was. 

He'd never be able to accept that she'd returned to the island for him.
Surely the excitement for her lay in Llewellyn before his madness 
overtook him and the place was plunged into chaos. Surely if not for 
him she would never have kept her fascination for the place. 

The rapping on his door began again, more intense this time – and there
he was, the man with a much greater claim to her affections than he 
could ever have. 

'Mr. Gibbings – I come with a message for you, and also to enquire
personally as to your welfare.' 

But there was little true concern on the redheaded man's face as
Gibbings held the door ajar, the thin smile and disinterested eyes told 
him that. 'I'll be okay,' Gibbings said flatly, and then, 'what 
message?' 

Rothman gave his thin smile. ‘You're a first rate chap. The lovely lady
Veronica is most appreciative of your valiant efforts – might I step 
inside?' 

Gibbings sniffed. 'I cannot offer you anything.' 

'Perhaps not, but my demands are few.' 

Gibbings shifted uneasily, feeling the intruder taking in the contents
of the sparsely furnished room. 'So what's this message then? Pass it 
and then get out.' He bit his lip; bitter bile clogged his throat as he 
glared at the elegant figure before him. 

Rothman removed his gloves and settled on a couch, its upholstery worn
and crusting, his eyes locking on Gibbings with a sudden intensity. 
'Miss Veronica is about to leave the island, her ordeal, thank heavens, 
is at an end; she sends her regards and warm wishes as to your future.' 
Rothman leaned forward, clasping his palms together. 'I feel it would 
not be in your interests to attempt to accompany her, there is little 
long term future in...' 

'I have no intention of accompanying her.' Gibbings fought back the tide
of indignation that fuelled the bile in his throat. 'You can pursue 
your interest in her without interference from me.'        Gibbings 
watched Rothman colour, then rise and stiffen, before bidding him a 
curt good day and marching out on the return journey to the castle. So 
Veronica had sent Rothman to deliver her message; so much for her 
concern and feelings for him. 

He closed the door that Rothman had left ajar and contemplated an
uncertain future on the island. 

Chapter Forty Two 

At first Veronica saw the ceiling as a cream sky she lay beneath, a sky
through which a pale sun shone blandly and then through which a 
familiar face appeared as if drifting down from the heavens. 

Her body shuddered with shock before a reassuring hand touched gently on
her shoulder and she saw the ceiling for what it was; the sun became a 
dimly lit chandelier and the ethereal presence transformed into the 
more human form of Hambleton. 

‘Veronica, please do not fret, you have been sleeping and the nightmare
you have recently had to endure, I feel is finally over.' 

Veronica curled a hand over her forehead, gazed at Hambleton, took in
his concern and then craned her head. 'Llewellyn is gone?' 

Hambleton nodded, stooped beside her. 'The policemen took him away; I
fear he is quite mad.' In a quieter tone he added, 'I feel that you 
should leave the island as soon as you are able, there is nothing here 
for you any longer.' 

Veronica held his eyes. 'I will leave when John Gibbings does and not
before.' 

Hambleton gave a slow shake of his head. 'I feel that will not happen my
dear, you must realise that whatever affections you hold for him are 
wasted – there was a time I thought differently but I do so no longer. 
John will not leave this island; he no longer possesses the will to do 
so.' 

Veronica pulled herself up, ignoring the pain in her leg and with arms
across her chest she paced to a window overlooking distant islands. 
'What future is there for him here?' she asked, her back to Hambleton. 
'He will waste away, the castle will become an empty shell - and John 
along with it.' 

'That may well be so,' Hambleton said tracing a finger along his lip,
'but there is nothing you can do; it is time for you to accept that. 
Resume your musical career my dear, you appear to have lost interest in 
it if I may say so and that is such a waste. In some ways this island 
is partly to blame.' 

'I will second that.' The crisp tapping of Rothman's boots echoed around
the hall, he glanced at Veronica before resting his gaze on Hambleton. 
'You will allow us a little time in private, my man?' 

Veronica unfurled her arms, turned and placed her hands on hips. 'There
is nothing that cannot be said in his presence. Please stay Mr. 
Hambleton.' 

'Very well, I did not mean to appear rude.' Rothman nodded towards
Hambleton but his apology was tempered by the edge in his voice. 'I 
happen to believe that Mr. Hambleton is right, that your career is 
suffering as this desolate place holds you in its grip; but there is 
little here for any of us.' 

Rothman pursed his lips, it hadn't been what he'd wanted, but Veronica's
refusal to dismiss Hambleton had left him with no choice. He desired 
Veronica Day more than any woman he'd met in his life, and he needed 
her out of the clutches of Gibbings. There was something in his dark, 
brooding, good looks that posed a threat to his intentions – 

'I propose that we leave this island the moment Sergeant Taylor gives us
word, I have a motor car, the finest in production; it will speed us on 
our way.' Glancing between them, he saw the apprehension in both. 'I 
implore you – common sense demands that we leave here.' 

Hambleton's gaze fell to the floor but when he returned it to Rothman
there was resolution in his eyes. 'You intend driving to London?' 

All Rothman needed do was nod, but it was Veronica that he craved for
and looking to her now his eyes expressed as much. 'And you my dear 
Veronica?' 

He saw the slow bow of her head, not convincing but it was as much as he
could hope for, and confirmation that she would be accompanying him. 

*                                *                               * 

Veronica Day felt Rothman's eyes upon her, they seemed to burn into her
and follow every movement she made. 'My dear, you still appear 
fatigued, which is hardly surprising considering your ordeal.' He 
thrust forward a smooth hand. 'Would you care to join me in the parlour 
while we await this damned sergeant's clearance on what should be 
patently obvious?' 

Veronica met his gaze briefly. 'No forgive me, I am rested enough, I
shall take a short walk.' She glanced around at the cold stone walls 
and trembled. 'I no longer feel comfortable here; it is as though we 
are uninvited guests now that Llewellyn has been taken away. We have no 
right to be here no matter what...' 

'But dear lady...' 

'Please excuse me.' 

Veronica swept through the hall at speed. Rothman's boots resounded
behind her but she paid no attention. Though her leg still burned she 
managed to negotiate the slope with scarcely a limp, but there was the 
perception of Rothman's footsteps behind, pursuing her relentlessly. 
She bit her lip, the pain she could deal with but Rothman's company was 
another matter. 

'Veronica, please...' inevitably he caught up, wrapping his hand around
her upper arm, 'please desist - reconsider, it is foolhardy to face the 
elements in your condition...' 

'Mr. Rothman please!' Veronica swung round, forcibly broke his grip with
her left arm. 'I will determine what is foolhardy and what is not. And 
as for my ‘condition,' there is nothing the matter other than a minor 
injury to my leg. Please allow me to continue unhindered.' 

She turned, walked the remainder of the slope at pace, but in a cocktail
of anger and despair realised that Rothman had been undeterred by her 
stance. 'My lady, it is not such a minor injury, as you know full well. 
I tended it. I feel it my duty to accompany you on this foolish walk, 
particularly as the weather is so inclement.' 

'I am very strong, Mr. Rothman, I can manage.' 

Rothman baulked from the indignation in her eyes but with renewed
bitterness she realised she wasn't going to be allowed the solitude she 
so desired. She heard his impatient sigh. 'You are right my dear 
Veronica, we are like uninvited guests in this godforsaken place, that 
is why I join you now.' 

'Your mind runs a ragged path, Mr. Rothman; do you seriously expect me
to believe that?' Veronica stopped abruptly, placed her hands on hips, 
she was tall enough to look him in the eye without inclining her head. 
'But I ask that you follow that path rather than joining me on mine. 

'Which is to the door of the gardener, I do not understand your
affections for this peasant chap.' 

Veronica brushed back her windswept hair, leaned forward to him. 'As a
matter of fact Mr. Rothman, I was intent on doing no such thing, and 
even if I had of been what right have you to belittle him?' 

'He belittles you. He talks of you in terms that do not befit a lady so
why should I pay him the honour of being termed a gentleman?' 

Veronica swallowed and then hardened her eyes to combat the moisture
which threatened to form droplets. Because it wasn't true. The man who 
had come to her aid against the maddened Llewellyn and paid the price, 
just couldn't do that. Her anger found its voice, the composure she 
prided herself on finally gave. 'You devise untruths for your own 
purposes Mr. Rothman. In short you tell lies.' 

Rothman's features, so smooth and youthful suddenly developed twitches
revealing tiny fissures. 'I will not be spoken to like that by a woman. 
It is an insult of the highest order.' 

'Then it befits you, please leave me in peace.' 

'I came from London at great haste to rescue you from the clutches of
that madman Llewellyn and you treat me like this...' Rothman's mouth 
shaped into a bitter twist as he grabbed her shoulders. 

'Mr. Rothman,' Veronica said coldly, 'I did not ask you to come, and if
you do not remove your hand from my shoulder I will strike you, and if 
I do so I will hurt you, please do not make me...' 

Rothman's temper hanging by a thread suddenly snapped as he gave an
angry push, the sheer force of it sending her falling to the uneven 
ground behind the castle. 

Veronica fell on her injured leg and a pang seared through like hot
liquid; Rothman stood over her, his anger unabated as she winced with 
pain. She wanted to spring to her feet, to teach him a lesson, but her 
agony was so great that all she could do was to produce a wide-eyed 
defiant gesture. 

For a second it seemed that the incensed Rothman, having lost all
control might lash out with his foot, but from the direction of the 
bungalow came a shout that distracted them both, and before he'd a 
chance to react to the source of that shout he was struck full in the 
chest. 

Gibbings was upon him as he fell, his fist striking first on the chin,
and then landing on his nose producing an instant stream of blood. 

Before he could strike again Veronica scrambled between them. 'No John –
leave him.' Wrapping her arms around his waist she managed to wrestle 
Gibbings off.  Rothman, his elegant grey suit ruffled and muddied, 
managed to regain his footing, pointing a trembling finger first at 
Gibbings and then at Veronica. 'Don't think I'll let this be,' he 
shouted, his chest heaving, 'the peasant here may have no money to call 
his own, but you will, you vixen, I'll have you know I'll sue you for 
every penny.' 

'You can try Mr. Rothman, oh yes, you can try.' Veronica stepped between
the two men, 'but with immediate effect you'd best be on your way, 
unless you would like the same treatment from me. You will not be 
fortunate twice.' 

Rothman glared, shouted some obscenity and then wheeled away, leaving
Veronica and Gibbings to watch him go. 

Above, the heavens opened once more, and the rain poured down. 


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