Ben looked up at the castle. He had checked on his father a few minutes earlier, finding him fast asleep. He had tried to sit downstairs and read but found himself unable to sit still for more than a few seconds at a time. In the end, he’d stood up and walked outside, stopping only to pick up his jacket. He was drawn towards the castle and he walked across the courtyard to the wall that backed onto the site. Leaning on it, he was able to see the East Tower looming over him. Silhouetted below it was a shape, moving slowly across the grass.
Intrigued, he climbed over the wall and dropped down onto the ground on the other side. Walking quietly, he felt strangely younger than he was, as if he was sneaking in, about to be told off for doing so by his father when he was found out as he always had been when he was little. He could keep nothing from Peter back then.
He stopped by the chapel. The figure was coming towards him. Another few steps and he recognised who it was. “Trespassing on private property?” he asked, allowing himself a smile.
“I suppose so,” Martha replied. “Although so are you.”
“Ah, well my father owns the place so I thought it was allowed.”
“And I work for him so I thought it was allowed.”
“I guess that’s that sorted then.”
Martha sat on the bench next to her and looked up at him. Even in the darkness, he could see the sparkling of her eyes. He sat down next to her, looking at the silhouetted great hall, silent and still.
“Do you often walk around here at night?” he asked after a minute’s silence.
“Sometimes.” She paused as if waiting for him to answer before continuing. “Aren’t you going to ask me why?”
“I’m guessing it’s because you like the peace and quiet.”
She answered quietly. “That’s right.”
She was lying. That was interesting. Ben found himself wondering why. He felt a spot of rain hit his cheek as he looked up at the sky, the stars nowhere to be seen.
“Do you like working here?” he asked.
“I do,” she replied. “What about you? How’s it feel to be back?”
“I’m not sure yet. I should head back and check on Dad.”
“You did the right thing,” she called after him as he began to walk away. He stopped and turned back to her.
“About what?”
“Staying the night. Peter can be stubborn but I know he loves you.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I’ll show you.”
She stood up and joined him, angling towards the visitor centre. Pulling a set of keys from her pocket, she unlocked the door and stepped inside. “Wait there a second,” she said as a box on the wall by the office began to beep slowly. She hit four buttons on its keypad and it let out a long tone in response before falling silent. “In here.”
He followed her into the office. She pointed at the wall and he followed her finger, spying the portrait of him, the one that had been on the wall for as long as he could remember. “He kept it,” he said, shaking his head slowly.
“I know he’s angry and I know it’s none of my business but life is very short, Mr Robertson. If I were you, I wouldn’t be so quick to run away this time.”
He grunted. “I better get back.”
“Sure, I’ll let you out the front if you like, save you climbing back over the wall.”
“Are you coming?”
“I might walk around a little longer. Goodnight, Mr Robertson.” She unlocked the front door and held it open for him.
“Ben,” he replied as he stepped out, placing his hand on top of hers, hoping to reassure her. She looked frightened all of a sudden and he didn’t know why. “Call me Ben.”
“Goodnight, Ben,” she said as she pulled the door closed.
He heard the key jangling in the lock as he walked back around to the courtyard. He was about to head into his father’s house when he returned to the wall, looking over it once again. He wasn’t looking to see her again, he was just looking. He leaned on the wall, his head on his elbows, thinking about when he was too small to even see over this wall, how he used to think the knights might come back any time, come bursting out of the castle on horseback, swords at the ready.
He had nightmares sometimes in which a red knight, horse’s nostrils flaring, would burst into his room, swing a sword down at him as he slept.
He hadn’t thought about that dream for twenty years. What had brought that back?
He shook his head, standing up straight, suddenly feeling very tired. He was about to turn and head inside when he heard the scream. It was loud, piercing, a woman’s scream. His head jolted upright. He was wide awake in an instant. The scream was coming from inside the castle grounds.