Tracy A. Williams

The Castle… unfinished …

MOTHER commissioned the snow globe as a gesture of goodwill. She had a woman and a baby put inside the globe, standing in front of the castle. The figurines did little more than annoy him because he understood the message they were designed to convey.

Outside, the real castle shuddered while the shadows of eternity shifted through the snow, seeking solace in anything but finding sanctuary nowhere in the dereliction. He was naturally oblivious to all of this. With large, clean, attractive hands, he took the globe and closed it in his ample fist. He shook it violently then threw it aside and as he did so a sudden snowstorm erupted over the castle seemingly in imitation of the scene inside that tiny globe. The fake flakes obscured the young mother and child while outside in the real-life courtyard he sensed a strange silence in his universe which prompted him toward his window from on high, before which there stood his telescope.

Through the lens he looked with his intense stare to discover the strangest scene. Had he been a writer he might have written…

Once upon the castle came snowflakes falling fast, as the chiming clock in its tower was began calling, “quick quick! Midnight is coming to pass!” And Home Sweet Home was singing across the courtyard without a body, as the only man watching heard an alteration of the words singing in this foul age of loneliness Home is where the horror is and you have lost your heart…

So he sat, surveying the scene like a kaleidoscope dream, when suddenly – down below – as if by black magic a woman appeared…

It was the final February of the twentieth century and all higher culture was dead. The theatre – his theatre – remained protected by law as a Grade 1 listed building while his castle was graded 2… but the building was falling down, unloved as it had been, by human hands for too long now… the roof was caving in and every room where once so many had flourished – except for those who died of course – was now completely uninhabitable… only his room – his loft – was warm and clean and new… only one other room might host human presence but no other human being dwelled in the castle by night until now… now what witchery had made this woman appeared…

The man behind the telescope had been alone all of his forty years when she arrived. His name was Maximus Greenaway.

Maximus Greenaway liked to watch the sky with his telescope by night because Maximus Greenaway was one of the loneliest people in what contemporary sages were calling ‘The Age of Loneliness…’ At that time the masses had become distracted by a new fad called the ‘internet’ and the philosophers were predicting an increase in loneliness because of this new phase in human history. Maximus Greenaway saw it as the way of the future and was desperate to install the ‘internet’ at the castle; a task which was proving impossible due to the remote location of his new home.

So there she was, as if brought to the ground by a snowflake, petite, delightful, blonde and sweet… carrying nothing but a vibrant smile, dressed in a white coat and sensible boots, wearing no make up, glowing like a summer rose… almost a mirage, really…

Through the telescope Maximus Greenaway beheld her long blonde hair floating down her back like a unicorn’s mane, … in that stunning silence he beheld tears of joy falling from her eyes as she stood gazing up at the marble statue of a woman on the roof of his theatre… she was far pretty than mother’s figurine, but she might have easily stepped ot of the snowglobe, if Maximus Greenaway believed in such fantasy and strangely – albeit fleetingly – he found himself scanning the courtyard for the baby but quickly he checked himself and sniggered… what a powerful influence mummy still had over him, he thought for a moment.

The snowglobe lay where he had thrown it and inside mummy’s little world had settled into stillness… outside, though, the universe was being shaken by a power too infinite for contemplation, a power in which Maximus Greenaway certainly did not believe although even he – despite his solipsistic leanings – could not deny , at times like these, that the universe must have some metaphysical intelligence behind it to create scenes such as this one… the castle was awhirl with white fluffy flakes, furiously covering the courtyard and the surrounding hills… as if God himself had reached down and shaken everything awake so that the castle – his castle – might begin to live again in this: The Year Dot.

Maximus Greenaway named the period of his arrival at the castle ‘The Year Dot’ because he knew he was founding history. The Year Dot was when Maximus Greenaway began to supersede the legacy of his predecessors with a legacy of his own. Twas indeed a difficult act to follow, but Maximus Greenaway was no shrinking violet and although he could not sing like the Queen of Hearts, he intended to create a legacy as newsworthy as hers… the great diva of the Victorian era, she who had transformed a gothic mansion of 1842 into this castle… the tiny diva with the mighty spirit whom – in life – had been affectionately nicknamed, ‘The Queen of Hearts.’ They said she left a legacy of Love. What would be the legacy of Maximus Greenaway an hundred years from now?

Through his telescope he beheld the girl as she strangely, endearingly, began to twirl… twirling as if to the rhythm of the weather… snowflakes kissing her complexion… her ice blue eyes sparkling… even someone as insensitive as Maximus could discern that those tears were borne from joy. And indeed, he was right. The woman down below was indeed crying for the realization that she was finally home…

***

Home is where the heart is, she was thinking as she swirled… home is where the heart is… on she whirled with the grace of a prima ballerina and Maximus Greenaway thought about opening his window and calling down to her from his loft in some sort of inverted Romeo and Juliet roleplay… how he longed to join her in the snow! To dance with her and swirl with her all night as everything turned crisp and clean and white… how Maximus envied her freedom… how Maximus wished he too could manifest such abandon… if only he were not so afraid of the fair sex… if only he could call out…

Maximus Greenaway had never been in love nor had he ever wanted to marry, but – for some strange reason – he felt, tonight, that he had fallen in love at very first sight with the woman in the snow and not just moderately but madly. Maximus Greenaway had fallen madly in love!

To fall in love in such a setting – a castle in the mountains in the snow – was somewhat clichéd, he thought.

“What histrionics!” he sniggered at himself, and attempted to shake himself back to the Age of Reason but somehow the poetry in his heart could not be silenced and, as she went swirling around the courtyard, Maximus Greenaway could have sworn that her footsteps were moving to the rhythm of iambic pentameter…

The castle was the woman Maximus Greenaway had never married. The castle was the expensive wife he had never believed he would find. The Castle was his fortieth birthday present to himself… and now she had come…

At the end of the twentieth century weddings had come strangely back into fashion and The Castle was the only remarkable building for miles around… his castle would easily gain a monopoly as the chosen venue in which to get married and hold a wedding party. Such was his plan and Maximus Greenaway – a self-made millionaire – had never – yet – failed in business…

Neither Maximus or the snow dancer saw the shifting shadows around about them when suddenly a violent gust of wind caused the marble statue on the theatre’s roof to sway. So great was the force that it exacerbated a crack in the statue’s wrist. The marble hand came undone and went hurtling down – just missing her head – to drop upon the ground. Then did Maximus Greenaway perceive how his heartbeat had quickened, how he had felt afraid and anxious: when she was in danger. A new emotion had emerged in Maximus; concern for the beloved. He had never before known what it was to care for another. Maximus had never before known what it was to care for anyone but Maximus. This new sentiment made him smile indignantly at the thought of all those who had accused him of being a sociopath…

Indeed, one might have rightfully classified Maximus Greenaway as a narcissist. But not anymore, he thought, as he watched her pick up the marble hand… Maximus was sure he saw her lips move to say ‘thank you’ to the statue overhead as she put the hand inside her pocket.

Had anybody else committed such a crime, Maximus would immediately have called the police but, because his future wife was the thief, he smiled at her boldness. That marble hand had been intact for over one hundred years. Even though Maximus did not believe in the supernatural, it would seem as though the hand had intentionally broken away at this moment, as if the elements had conspired to show her how welcomed ‘home’ she was… Maximus suddenly chuckled; these coincidental happenings were exactly what he intended to exploit for the second part of profiting from the castle… it was to be a supernatural, haunted house, inviting psychics and mediums and ghost hunters from afar to come and spend a night in the most haunted castle in… to come and spend their money in the pursuit of spirits… and this snow dancer would be the perfect guide with her eccentric manners… indeed, he was thinking in a most unorthodox manner tonight… no doubt because of the madness of love, he realised…

Grace was her name and soon was he to learn it but Grace had no last name and Grace apparently came from nowhere… Oblivious to the watcher she turned from the courtyard and, navigating slowly through the slippery snow, she went under an archway thick with thorns where during summer roses bloom… she stopped at a door and went inside as if she were at home.

The darkness did not frighten her but she felt a trembling in her heart all the same… all around she could hear whisperings and as her eyes became accustomed to the dark she beheld subtle shadows and the sounds of strange movement.

To Maximus it seemed nothing short of a miracle that the whirling snow angel had found the only other habitable room in the castle; the green room… it were as if she had known about it all her life. The ‘green room’ had three doorways and no windows. It was called the ‘green room’ because it had once been the backstage prop and dressing room to the theatre…

Indeed Grace knew exactly where she was and the fact was that this castle was and always had been her home and instead of an en-suite bathroom, Grace had an en-suite theatre… she shuffled carefully to a secret doorway and – with eyes closed – she found the key in the lock as it always had been and then she was entering the theatre… overhead the lights were flickering even though she had touched no switch… over the stage she saw the woman in a chariot as that backdrop – in place for over an hundred years – shimmered as if from a gust of wind… twas a painted backdrop of the great Adelina Patti in her rolse as Bodicea… timeless eternal magnificence… The gilt painted words of the greatest composers adorned the tall pillars… every step on that wooden floor had once been traversed by the superstar singer, the Queen of Hearts, Madame Adelina Patti and tonight Grace knew she was not alone as the faint sounds of that voice sang to her like a mother with a lullabye for her child…

Then did Maximus Greenaway know the pain of separation! When the sight of his Grace had disappeared from his telescope an agony stuck in his throat like a knife. Oh how could he go on without seeing her?

Not once did it occur to him that she was, in fact, trespassing on his property… And as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Maximus Greenaway reached for his coat and boots…

Chapter 2XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Beneath intermittent flickers form the lights overhead, Maximus Greenaway beheld his girl, swirling around the theatre in ecstasies…

Maximus Greenaway was almost certain he could hear her singing, even though her lips were still… a deep velvet voice, the kind of voice one could enjoy for eternity and, as he listened to her singing, Maximus Greenaway – who had never appreciated the arts – began to feel the pleasure of that art which most people cannot imagine life without…

“above all we must have music”

said the human race, some time in the last thirty years of the twentieth century… music is essential for the soul, they said, the crucial art form is music, they said… and suddenly Maximus began to cry, real tears poured forth from the darkness of his lonely heart, hot burning tears came rushing down his face until Grace was just a blur on his vision…

The more she sang the more it felt as if every moment of crippling loneliness he had wilfully suppressed were suddenly being released … the song she sang was ‘Home Sweet Home,’ and the tears fell instoppable from a seemingly inconsolable Maximus as he became more and more certain that both himself and the whirling snow queen had been called to the castle, that the castle itself had conspired to bring them together that they may give the castle life again… and bring to the castle a son and heir…

What dramatic thoughts are these, he thought and swallowed back his final tears! Such thinking was so far-removed from his usual self that he felt insane… the lights over head flickered and buzzed and still Grace went on dancing.

In her heart Grace had never been so happy. She knew she was surrounded by the shadows of history, she knew she was safe in this universe, she knew she had found what every woman needs; a home to dwell in, a home to die in and she knew that Patti would soon appear and take Grace to her ultimate destination. The shadows were dancing with her but the singing was from just one voice and soon that voice would gain a momentum which would manifest as a vision of perfection in the form of Madame Adelina Patti. In the frenzy of dance and song, Grace thought she heard a man’s voice shout and suddenly she saw him; a tall, dark, bespectacled stranger which brought her to a violent halt as he called out

“Who are you?”

“Who are you?” said Grace in response.

“What is your name?” asked Maximus Greenaway. His voice was bold and upper-class, but Grace was undeterred.

“Who are you?” she said once more.

“I ought to be asking you these questions, young lady!” said Maximus, but Grace knew he was not in the least bit irritated.

She performed a coquettish twirl as she came closer to him.

“I am Grace,” she said and smiled.

And when she smiled the lights ceased flickering and shone as bright as an August sun.

Maximus Greenaway smiled back.

“My name is Maximus Greenaway,” he said and offered her his hand.

“Do you live here?” she asked.

“I do indeed,” he said.

“Is this your castle now?” she asked.

“It is indeed,” he said.

Pausing to hold his hand so that she might feel him beneath his words and physical appearance, Grace sensed a darkness which forced her hand to recoil. Her heart beat in alarm for a few moments. Maximus Greenaway was in need of some healing, the handshake made that clear. An ominous sensation washed through her veins and sent her twirling toward the stage.

“Come dance with me, Maximus Greenaway,” she said.

Strangely, as if he had suddenly become completely unhinged, Maximus found himself rushing forward, taking her outstretched hands and swirling to the rhythm of her footsteps…

Like two joyous children they danced until their bodies closed in on each other and became almost one… outside the snow did not relent, the castle dwelled now in a white universe and inside Maximus Greenaway – the multi-millionaire loneliest man in the microcosmos – knew that he had fallen madly – so madly – in love.

He buried his head in her hair and allowed her to lead him all across the theatre while something terrifying stirred in his veins…

Deep in the vault of his darkest memories were hideous images gaining momentum every time he twirled… Grace held him tightly but her comfort was not enough to quell the mental visitation to his former hell… he could see himself as a little boy tied to a bed; screaming, crying, begging for mercy as a gang of taller, older boys in school uniform… by Grace, enormous tears fell from Maximus as he was compelled further and further into a past he had thus far avoided… he was gulping for air, trying to get free… that monstrous first night when the older boys had tied him to his bed and held him still and touched him there in such a way as to make him squirm and when he called out they stuffed a blanket into his mouth and punched him into a nosebleed and they came night after night performing exponentially more bestial acts upon his person… and Maximus – not telling anyone – grew up believing himself to be impotent or homosexual and deeply deeply ashamed… he could not bring himself to approach any woman after those years of abuse which arrested the possibly healthy sexual development he ought to have gone through… and on and on he swirled as Grace knew and gradually his tears ebbed until Maximus Greenaway felt how dancing could be a form of making love to a woman… and the cruel laughter of his childhood shame retreated behind a new sensation as Maximus tried to resist it but the sensation persisted… a strange heat in his heart was spreading to his chest and down to his pelvis and further into that part of his body, the part he had so long wished was not so, the part to which he paid no attention, the part which kept him awake into the loneliest of hours … gradually that part of his body became irrepressible and then irresistible until he was actually feeling an exciting rush of energy concentrating just there and the blood rush felt good… and that part of him felt harder than he had ever known it to be and gradually he could feel that part of his body screaming to be touched…

The terror of sexual arousal had become too much during the dance; that must be why he was remembering the abuse of boarding school.

Grace – for her part – felt his tumescence as a subtle push He had welcomed her ‘home’ and he had against her torso… she knew he was ashamed of it and she wanted to penetrate him with pride, she needed to show him that nature had conspired to bring them together… she needed to know if he could bring her – in the modern era – home…

“Mr Greenaway,” she whispered, coming to a gradual stop, “I have traversed many dimensions to be with you tonight. If you will let me stay here for all eternity I shall make it worth your while. Will you have me?”

Maximus took her face in his hands and, drowning in the intense blue of her eyes, said, “Grace without a surname, you are welcome to stay as long as you may. The castle has called you, the castle is your home.”

A joy more profound than childbirth burst forth through Grace’s smile.

“May I demonstrate my gratitude with a kiss, Maximus?”

And his every nerve began to beat intensely, his erection suddenly peaked as she closed his eyes with the sweep of her palm and pressed her lips against his until Maximus Greenaway was kissing her back with his mouth and holding her as tight as he might, pushing his body almost into her, longing to be inside her, knowing how right she was, knowing that this night suddenly made all the pain of loneliness make sense. They kissed on and on as long as Grace could hear the song of Home all around them, as long as Grace could feel the bright light of Adelina shining over them, assuring Grace that she had indeed much work to do at the castle…

When the kiss faded they looked into each other with mutual adoration.

“May I take the green room?” she asked.

“You are more than welcome to come to my loft,” he said.

“I prefer to take this more slowly,” she said, “let me take the green room for now and we shall meet in the middle…”

Maximus smiled and released her.

“Indeed,” he said.

He kissed her softly on the forehead and then, with a gentleness and grace he had never before known, Maximus Greenaway gallantly left his future wife to enjoy her theatre as – which was almost at knee height – and crossed the courtyard like a painted scene of old, then returned to his loft where he fell into the softest sleep he had ever known… the thought that she was sleeping in the green room, the thought that he would awaken her on the morrow… these thoughts and the great erection of his body took Maximus to places on the astral plain he had never before believed in. On opposite sides of the castle did this couple drift into the unconscious with plans to reinvent the universe through the castle in time…

Chapter 2

Grace lay down in the cold bed. She was too overwhelmed with happiness to sleep. She stared up at the high ceiling of the green room as her heart beat to a regular rhythm. She was home, she had met Maximus Greenaway and she really liked him. He was a kindred spirit, no doubt about that. She closed her eyes and began descending into unconsciousness…

But then she got up again, shivering, and began looking for something; her coat. Then, strangely, she walked out of the green room from its third doorway and began wandering slowly down a long corridor, her eyes wide open as small shadows followed her with muffled exclamations…

Many steps – and stairways – later, Grace entered an empty room where only the windows were intact… through those windows with a wild stare she could see the rock of the night… a gradually increasing discomfort was moving over her neck and shoulders, a sensation like razor blades morphing into claws and the pain expanding its reach to her legs until she fell to the floor.

With the weight of time holding her down, Grace could not move… she knew she was asleep but she could not shake herself awake even though she knew she was dreaming… from far off came cries and screaming, coming closer, close enough to penetrate her, close enough to cripple her and in her sleep she summoned one enormous breath which forced her body upward and opened her eyes. Relieved she began to walk out of the room and back to hers but something was holding her back… she tried to call out but could not speak… through a tunnel she beheld a bright light but she was terrified of that light and longed for that light all in the same instance and suddenly a terrifying gust of wind screamed and a doorway flew open and Grace jumped out of bed, shouting

“Oh God!”

Her face was drenched in tears; she had been dreaming after all. She saw the secret doorway shudder from the impact of the wind and got out of bed to shut it but she was immediately possessed by a compulsion to go into the theatre, to obey the force that was apparently beckoning her forward… As the howling wind raged on, Grace stepped slowly into the auditorium… as dark as it was, she could see a small shadow, a very pale shadow, almost invisible to the naked eye but she knew it was there all the same and she knew it was the shadow of a being, a human being, but a human being who did not belong in this dimension and the more she tried to deny, the stronger that shadow became as she began to hear the repetition of the word “mother, mother…”

Subsumed by a fear not her own, Grace too began crying, “mother, mother.”

The fear was too intense to yield; she knew she ought to prevail and let the shadow come closer; she knew she ought to welcome the spirit into this dimension, but somehow the feeling was too sad and Grace heaved her body away from the theatre and walked on…

In the green room she put on her hat and coat and went in search of her senses; the silence all over the castle was like a curse of eternity in despair, an eternity of inconsolable longing for home that would never be found… Grace and all the other spirits were destined to wander the castle in limbo forever homeless, forever homesick and in abject desperation Grace looked up at the ceiling and screamed “stop! please please please stop!”

Outside the last snowflake fell.

In his bed, Maximus Greenaway smiled and mumbled. In the courtyard, Grace without a surname beheld the slate black sky in silence. She turned back toward her bedroom as familiarity seeped into her veins… the familiarity of a home hard won… she breathed in the air of renaissance, realising that she was safe, she was home, she was finally, truly home and the shadows and the screams were just her final fears dying. She snuggled under the blankets and entered dreamless sleep.

Chapter 3

Twas the songs of The Marriage of Figaro awoke Grace on her first morning at the castle. The singing operatic talents was taking place in the theatre. When the singing halted, Grace heard a deep, bellowing voice of a presumed conductor shouting directions at his choir. Music resumed, singing resumed and stage directions were called out loud. Grace moved slowly toward the secret doorway, preparing to open it but she faltered and stepped back, not wishing to intrude… she knelt down and peered through the keyhole; she could not see the stage, in the auditorium she saw a few singers in full costume watching and listening to the action onstage… the revelation that opera was still being performed all this time after its inauguration in 1891 filled her with immense joy and she got dressed to go and call on Maximus Greenaway immediately and thank him for keeping Patti’s beloved theatre alive with song…

***

As she passed by the theatre, heading across the snow toward the courtyard, she stopped suddenly at the sight of a tiny woman in a red crinoline dress standing just beside the glass door, inside the theatre. The woman looked at Grace and smiled. She was surrounded in bright white light. Grace smiled back for she knew it was Patti, come to watch the opera in her theatre… No sooner than Grace had acknowledged her presence did Patti evaporate from her sight. Grace hurried across the courtyard, in search of Maximus.

She quickly came to a modern corridor which lead to a non-descript office block. Standing outside one of the offices, Grace found a clump of men in overalls and hard hats… inside the office, at a large, messy desk sat a tall, blonde, very attractive man with piercing blue eyes and a magnificent smile.

“What of the singing in the theatre?” asked Grace without introducing herself.

“Ah yes, the opera… due to be performed this friday night,” said the man, “I shall of course give you a ticket… if you tell me who on earth you are…”

“The Marriage of Figaro,” said Grace.

“Are you an opera enthusiast?” he asked.

“Of course,” she said, “why would anyone at Adelina Patti’s castle not be?”

“Hmm, I can see you are going to be a great asset to our castle,” said the manager.

“I don’t suppose you know what day it is today?” she asked him.

“What day is it?”

“Why it’s Adelina Patti’s birthday, you fool!”

“Oh is it indeed,” said the man.

“I thought the castle was empty except for Maximus…” she said.

“During the night it is, yes. But during the day the team are here. So you have met our lord and master?” he asked with a gleaming smile. “I bet he was delighted to meet you.”

“Who are you?” asked Grace, resisting his smile for the man was indeed a beauty to behold.

“I’m Leo, the general manager,” he said, “and you are?”

“Grace,” she said, and shook his hand.

“Are you joining our team?” asked Leo.

“I did not know there was a team until this very minute,” she said. “And I have no plans to join any team.”

“Oh I am sure Maximus will recruit you in some capacity,” said Leo, “he can be very persuasive.”

“Where is Maximus?” asked Grace.

“It’s too early for the king,” said Leo, “he does not surface until just before noon.”

“I see,” she said, “in that case I shall come back later.”

“Oh do stay,” said the general manager, “can I get you some tea?”

“It’s ok,” she said, “I would like to walk around in honour of Patti’s birthday.”

“Well, quite,” said Leo and with that Grace left his office.

He was indeed an extremely attractive individual but he was not the owner of the castle, she was thinking.

The date was indeed February 19^th; the day the earth was blessed by the birth of Adelina Patti. With this in mind, Grace entered an enormous room with a roaring fire, the room in which – only Grace knew this – once stood the orchestrian in the 1880s which has long-since disappeared from the valley. Opposite the fire, there sat a drunken little man in a leather armchair, holding a pint glass about to fall to the floor… the drink was almost bigger than him. The time was just before twelve noon.

Behind the bar stood an awkward, sullen teenaged boy who was surely too young to serve alcohol.

Both looked up in great curiosity when Grace came into the room. She asked for coffee which the boy begrudgingly served. She then went to sit window which looked out onto the country park and the rock of the night.

“Welcome home,” said the drunken midget beside her.

“Thank you,” she said coldly.

“Happy Birthday Adelina!” he shouted.

The boy tutted. Grace broke into an enormous, approving smile.

“So there is someone here who actually knows where they are!” she declared.

“Your name is Grace, isn’t it?” said the man.

“It is, and yours?” she asked.

“Carl, I’m Carl,” he said and almost fell out of his seat.

From outside they could hear the clock chiming in its tower. Twelve chimes later the little man held up his glass and yelled,

“Happy Birthday Adelina!”

Grace could not help but like him. She did not usually like psychic types in this dimension; they were usually too eccentric to converse with, but this little man seemed to have his intuitive feet firmly on the ground, albeit drunkenly.

“You’re the one who arrived last night,” said Carl.

“And what do you do at the castle?” asked Grace.

“I’m the caretaker,” he said.

“You are only here in the daytime hours too?” she asked.

“Indeed,” he said.

A few hours later, Grace found Carl the caretaker lying in the snow without his shirt, surrounded by some snow-wings he had carved in honour of the date. Concerned for his well-being she managed to coax the caretaker back into his warm clothes and suggested his birthday greetings would be better received if he continued to toast Patti from the bar than die of hyperthermia in the . It was clear that Carl was nursing some sort of emotional trauma which had brought him to the castle. He agreed to get dressed, but instead of going inside he walked with Grace into the country park where he took a photograph of her which she would treasure into old age…

While Grace was rescuing the inebriated caretaker from freezing to death, Maximus Greenaway was lost in a world of imaginary sex in which he dominated the naked Grace of his desires in myriad manipulations. Through the window he had seen her because he had been awake earlier than usual… in her white fluffy coat, being followed by that dreadful little midget Carl; the only man cheap enough to pay as a caretaker, he watched her walk to the back of the castle. No doubt Carl was again drinking the day away, believing that Maximus knew nothing of the young barman giving away free drinks at the behest of his caretaker. This was soon to be stopped or Carl would find himself homeless once more. A vague flash of jealousy washed over Maximus when he saw that Grace was not alone. The jealousy augmented when he realised he had left his future wife alone to meet his minions… he knew only too well that his second-in-command was viciously handsome and abjectly charming; he did not want her to meet Leo Bloomenberg before he had her hand in marriage lest Leo Bloomenberg purloin her passions. But at the same time Maximus felt an acute apprehension about the passion of which he was now possessed.

Having had no childhood friends – most importantly no girlfriend – and having had no happiness in his youth, Maximus was apt to hold on too tightly to anyone he suspected might make him happy. Thus did he begin plotting a way to keep Grace all to himself. Underneath the fear he knew he was probably wrong to try and keep her insulated from others but he could not see another way to make himself feel safe.

By the time he arrived at his office that morning the corridors were awash with gossip of the pretty new arrival who had seemingly melted the heart of the general manager. One of the offices was full of ordinary minions seated before telephones where they were making cold calls to invite a new generation of would-be brides to make their vows at an altar in a genuine Victorian Theatre… or to a breed of supernatural weirdos who would come to traverse the metaphysical at this, the most intensely haunted castle in the country as Mr Greenaway insisted it was.

“Yes a beauty indeed,” was what his general manager said when Maximus entered the office with a cup of coffee and a copy of the Daily Mail.

Maximus, attempting to appear unaffected, said nothing.

“She is perfect for the castle,” said Leo.

As if the castle were the suitor and he were incapable of such romancing, thought Maximus Greenaway.

“What trivia are you gossiping about today?” asked Maximus.

“Your new recruit, goes by the apt name of Grace,” said Leo.

“I don’t know what you mean,” said Maximus.

“She was here about an hour ago. She asked for you,” said Leo.

“I don’t know who you are talking about…” said Maximus.

The sullen underage barman came in carrying a tray of tea and said, “she’s gone for a walk with Carl to the country park.”

Showing no emotion, Maximus retreated to his private office and pretended that he knew nothing of Grace, an attempt which no one but Maximus understand the reason for.

***

Within an hour Maximus was thinking of only one thing: Grace was not very young – he guessed she was about thirty five – and yet she had never been married; he had no proof of this but he just knew it… Perhaps she, too, had a twisted sexual history which had rendered her frigid… Perhaps she too required sexual healing and perhaps they would access such healing together and explore each other’s sexuality together and satisfy each other’s needs… Maximus had never thought he had sexual needs but now he could feel them growing…

***

While walking around the country park – almost knee deep in snow – Grace grilled Carl the caretaker about Maximus Greenaway.

“He’s an odd sort, but his heart is in the right place,” said Carl, “he’s a bit posh but he’s not stuck up and he has been really good to me.”

“He says he does not care for opera!” said Grace, as if this declaration would be taken as a natural error on the part of Maximus.

“Oh he only says things like that, I think” said Carl.

“As I thought,” said Grace, “why else would be allow opera at the theatre.”

“Yep,” Carl agreed.

He asked nothing about Grace’s life and she chose not to ask him about his life either. Throughout the walk she felt the acute sadness which dominated Carl’s aura but Grace was well aware that her tendency toward introjection was not yet strong enough to encompass listening to Carl the caretaker’s tales of woe.

By the time they went back to the bar room Grace had learned a great deal about Maximus Greenaway, albeit from another’s perspective.

“He says this will be the opera’s last chance to perform in the theatre,” Carl told her, “he wants to use the theatre for weddings and ghost hunts. He says the opera group lose him money.”

“Oh dear,” said Grace, “that will have to change.”

She learned that Maximus Greenaway had no partner and that he was a self-made millionaire. She also learned that the general manager was a ‘poser’ who talked the talk but did not walk the walk.

Later she was to learn that Leo Bloomenberg had shamed Carl the caretaker which had incited Carl’s resentment for the GM.

It seemed to Grace that an immitation microcosm of the world outside took over her castle during the daylight, weekday hours. As darkness fell that night, she became more and more certain that Maximus Greenaway did not wish to see her when his minions were in situ. The realization hurt her feelings and made her worry that perhaps her affection and attraction for Maximus were soon to cause her substantial heartache, but despite wanting to be bold

and seek out his company, she resisted going back to the offices for the next four days.

And – strange to say – Maximus Greenaway stayed away from the green room and the theatre for the next four nights. He had convinced himself that to fall for Grace would be a devastating mistake and he did not intend to allow love distract him from the more important issue of creating a lucrative business out of this building.

For four nights Grace wandered the castle in limbo, trying to forget that she had ever met the lovely Maximus Greenaway; King of her castle. For four nights Maximus – an expert in self-repression – used all of his faculties to act as if he had never known the woman called Grace. But in his dreams, Grace broke through and in her dreams he did too. They met as astral bodies, in the middle of the courtyard. They danced in the theatre. They made love in his loft.

Grace avoided the team by day and slept through most of the workaday world of the castle, awakening only to listen to the opera group in rehearsal, then getting dressed by night to wander the corridors and detelict rooms until it really felt that she was the sole owner of the castle; a dream which once she had aspired to… but now, having danced with him in Patti’s theatre, Grace did not wish to be the solitary inhabitant of this castle. For nothing would be more perfect than a union between man and woman to nurture this castle into a renaissance… and so Grace held her aching heart tight shut because she knew, for some strange reason which even her profoundly talented intuition could not access, Maximus Greenaway had been frightened away by attraction. Somehow it seemed that Maximus Greenaway, like so many millions in the Age of Loneliness, could not bear to acknowledge basic instincts.

On Friday afternoon she ventured to the General Manager’s office to ask for a ticket to see The Marriage of Figaro.

“Of course, my dear Grace,” said Leo Bloomenberg, “I h

ave your ticket here. It has been waiting for you. Where have you been? We began to think we had imagined you…”

“I have been doing as Maximus wishes me to do,” said Grace.

“What do you mean?” asked Leo with a frown.

“He does not wish to see me again,” she said, “for some reason I must have frightened him.”

“Oh I know what happened,” said Leo with great confidence, “he found you very attractive and he does not like to feel human.”

Gracelaughed.

“Seriously,” said Leo. “I can guarantee that he is sitting in his loft trying to deny your existence. You must not let him oppress you. Besides, you will see him tonight at the opera; he has to attend.”

“Will you be there?” she asked Leo.

“Indeed, in a tuxedo. You must wear a little black dress,” he said with another magnificent smile.

Grace went back to the green room. She found her one and only ‘little black dress’ and began to get ready for a night at the opera.

As she made herself look lovely her heart ached. She realized that even though had only known him for one night she was longing to see Maximus again and longing to talk with him about the castle. He was the only man able to ensure the castle’s renaissance and thus – and more – did Grace desire more than anything else a union between them. For in her heart she knew that Maximus Greenaway was a deeply human being and that she had not only been called forth to offer her heart to the castle but that she had also been brought all this way back home to give love where it was most needed and to learn to accept love from the only man she had been attracted to in years.

***

Chapter 3

The bar was jammed with tuxedos and gowns; the opera enthusiasts had gone all out to impress each other tonight; a sign of how the human race was longing for the glamour and formality and style of opera to come back to earth for another dance. What better environment to express this desire than Adelina Patti’s castle?

Grace was not so elaborately dressed. Grace did not own a proper ball gown. She was wearing a knee-length black dress with a scoop neck and a tiny diamond necklace with matching earrings. She nursed a glass of red wine while sitting nervously at her usual seat beside the window. She pretended to be hypnotised by the flames in the fireplace, but she could feel the eyes of the underage bartender scrutinizing her from where he worked. Carl the caretaker looked very silly in a tuxedo; his trousers were too long and his jacket too wide. But he had made a great effort, indeed. Maximus Greenaway had not yet entered the throng. The anticipation that he would soon show up made her heart beat like an inner madness she wished would die down.

“You look beautiful,” the general manager had said, looking equally gorgeous in his perfectly fitted tuxedo.

She had smiled gracefully and returned the compliment, then asked, “where is out lord and master?”

“Oh he will be late, no doubt,” said Leo, “your lord and master despises opera, but don’t tell him I told you so.”

“Yes well I intend to change all that,” she said with confidence.

“Hmm,” said the GM, “from the look in your eye I reckon that’s not the only thing you intend to change.”

Grace felt herself blushing and looked away. Was it that obvious? Or was Leo Bloomenberg as psychically equipped as so many others here at the castle? In the past four days Grace had been sensing a plethora of psychic activity in the castle. It seemed that the building enabled people easier access to their own psychic potential than they were on the outside.

Grace had been aware of her psychic ability since childhood and had grown accustomed to seeing and feeling similar sensitivities in a few people on the outside. She had never, however, encountered so many psychic voices and intuitives and empathics as she had during the past five days since she arrived at her rightful home.

NARRATE THE MOFFIGGARO AND HER SEXUAL DESIGNS ON MAXIMUS

ly his face clouded over as Maimus Greenaway said, “I do not like people who use me, Grace.”

“I’m sorry?” she said, confused.

“You are being warned not to use me,” he said.

“I don’t understand you,” she said.

“You are here to help the castle,” he said, “you cannot sit about doing nothing just because you feel ‘at home.’ The castle expects your assistance. We are a team and we are creating a universe here.”

The young barman explored her eyes while she, unaware of him, glared into the cold, harsh expression of the new King of her castle.

“I really do not understand you, Maximus,” she said.

In her stomach tears began to fall.

“Don’t use me. And don’t use the castle,” he said.

His tone was so sharp, so cold, so callous that Grace burst into tears.

“Emotions will not help you,” said Maximus. “You have a duty to assist in our renaissance. If you give us your utmost attention you may indeed live here for as long as you wish, but if you use me I shall banish you forever.”

The young bartender’s heart secretly warmed for Grace in tears. He knew she was much older, too old in fact, but he desired her all the same and from his safely invisible space behind the bar, the young bartender proudly felt an erection hardening his amply sized member.

“Excuse me,” said Grace.

She stood up and walked away from Maximus Greenaway. Inside the green room the shadows listened and watched as Grace sunk to her knees and cried and cried, begging the spirits to take her back, begging them to save her from what she feared might be the wrath of a fascist dictatorship soon to come.

***

As darkness fell – albeit only four of the clock in the afternoon – Maximus quite literally sat kicking himself under his work desk while no one was looking.

The general manager had heard about his attack on Grace and the general manager had reproached him furiously with, “Maximus, you are not human. And you are getting worse. I don’t think living here alone has done you any good. You are becoming like Count Dracula.”

“What nonsense,” said Maximus. “She has no right to assume that she can appropriate the castle as her own home without proving herself first. No one stays here unless they serve the renaissance.”

“Maximus this is not the way to get people to help us,” said the general manager.

“She was pretty upset,” said the young barman as he collected up the teacups.

“Oh to hell with both of you,” said Maximus Greenaway and stormed out of the office in the direction of his loft.

But in truth he was deeply perturbed by what had happened and equally confused by it too.

Why had he suddenly turned sour against the woman he loved? What was this lower nature in him that always sought to vilify any strangers? What was so wrong about him that he could not maintain any sort of consistence compassion for fellow human beings? And above all for her! Last night he had kissed her, last night he had longed for her! Last night he had fallen madly…

He suspected too that the young bartender had sexual designs on his Grace, as did the general manager. But while the GM was already married and less of a threat, that damned seventeen year old had no partner and a way with the ladies or so his female minions claimed for he had heard them in their drunken parties proclaim it all around that the barman had an enormous penis and knew very well how to use it.

At this rate he must either destroy all competitors or suppress his plans to take Grace as his own and with these thoughts in mind Maximus found himself knocking on the green room door…

He noted the redness around her eyes and her puffy cheeks and he knew that she had been crying. Darkness was all around as he said,

“I have come to take you to dinner, come…”

Grace, without word, followed Maximus Greenaway to the dining room where they sat at a big round table in white linen and ate in silence.

***

She was the beauty to his beast and while the beast would make the money to maintain her beauty she would provide all the love and tenderness that woman can bring…

“I want to take a tour of the castle when everyone has gone home tonight, will you come with me?” she asked.

“It would be my honour,” said Maximus and in his tone Grace detected apology. He had not said he was sorry, nor had he even hinted at it, but she knew that he was trying to make amends for his formerly callous comments.

“You are a very strange specimen, Mr Greenaway,” she said, smiling.

“And so are you Miss no surname,” said Maximus with an equal grin.

“You are literally night and day,” she went on, “by day you are cold and calculating, by night you are warm and desirable…”

“Desirable?” he said, “I thought you would have been charmed by Leo or even our young bar manager by now…”

“Not at all,” said Grace, “I mean I can see the appeal of both of them but it is you who interests me Mr Greenaway.”

“Please stop calling me that,” he said.

She perceived again the insecure and overly sensitive boy behind the mask. She reached across the table and took his hand in hers.

“I hope the spirits will not frighten you tonight,” she said.

Maximus sniggered and held her hand very tight. When she tried to take it back he took her hand to his lips and kissed it.

***

Holding a small torch, she wandered through the darkness, knowing it like her own home as he followed suit enthralled by this woman who feared nothing and knew everything about his castle…

“I have been coming here since ere I remember,” she was saying while they walked up some stairs to another derelict room.

“This was once a sort of church,” she said.

“In this room the priest would reside, awaiting Patti for morning prayers… despite her lifestyle Patti was always a devoted Catholic…”

“Intriguing,” said Maximus.

In his mind he saw a vision of a bridal suite to be… and he said, “this is where we shall build the bridal suite, what do you think?”

“What a beautiful idea,” said Grace, “how can you be so romantic by night and such a tyrant by day?”

“Hmmph,” Maximus grunted.

He had not yet apologized and Grace was resolved to wait because she was so certain that he would eventually atone for his formerly rude remarks.

“It was here that Patti underwent confession, here where she would confess to the priest for things that left her feeling guilty… when she died she said that she always felt she had never done quite enough for the poor as she ought to have done…”

“Hmph,” said Maximus again, unimpressed.

“She created a sort of welfare state before the concept existed,” Grace continued.

“How do you mean?” asked Maximus, although his tone suggested disinterest.

“Well if one of her servants became too ill to work Patti gave them room and board for free for the rest of their days,” she explained, “there was many a happy soul at this castle during its golden era… Patti’s servants were truly loved… unlike what was to come…”

“Indeed,” said Maximus.

For he did indeed know the history, albeit in a cursory way. The Castle had started out as a gothic mansion which bankrupted its builder, it had then been bought by Adelina Patti when she was the quintessential star of the age (so famous was Patti that Tolstoy wrote about her in Anna Karenina). When Patti died in 1919 her body was interred in the cellar and after that the health board turned the castle into a venue for treating the epidemic of tuberculosis which killed many children.

“From that era is where the castle gets its sadness,” said Grace, “so many children died right here…”

Grace climbed with confidence up the staircase.

“Can you hear her?” she turned to Maximus half way.

“Who?” he asked.

She is saying, “Qui est la voix de cette ange? Maintenant je comprends pourquoi Dieu me fait Patti!”

“French?” he said.

“It means, ‘who is that angel singing? Now I understand why God made me Patti!’”

“Ah, you are an Adelina Patti enthusiast, yes she does seem to be a rather tenacious celebrity in these parts.”

Grace smiled softly at Maximus as he stood oblivious to her sixth sense. Maximus meanwhile thought his beloved might be just a tad insane… he could capitalise on her eccentricity by having her take guided tours of the supernatural side of the castle but the thought of her giving her attention to anyone else but him stopped the idea mid thought…

“You know, Grace,” he said softly, “I may have been a tad unfair to you this afternoon and I wish to extend an apology… I am afraid I can be somewhat overzealous in matters of the castle and its pending renaissance… I … do not wish to…”

“Oh Maximus!” said Grace with a passionate cry, “I understand you! I understand you completely and you know, when you spoke to me of being used this afternoon I realised that I…”

She paused, aware that the confession she was about to give would be received with the utmost gravity and perhaps incite some fear…

“Yes? What?” said Maximus.

They had stopped on the staircase and were facing each other. The stairs creaked although neither of them moved and from far behind Grace could see a tiny flicker of that bright light… she was about to jump into a life-changing action from the which she would never return again…

“It made me realise how much I love you,” she said.

Suddenly all the world was his, suddenly the brightest light of the world was bathing Maximus Greenaway in it… never before had he felt this way… never before had he wanted to live so well…

“And I too, adore you,” he said.

They closed in on each other, closed their eyes and pressed their lips together. From the awkward would-be lover of last night had emerged a master kisser of the finest calibre and Grace was able to surrender completely as Maximus Greenaway took her in his arms and carried her all the way back to the derelict but destined to be bridal suite…

***

And the more they kissed the more the castle became her home and the more she belonged to Maximus for it was in the male psyche to want to provide a safe haven for the woman of his dreams… it was in the male instinct to make an Eden for his Eve and if they ever had a son and heir…

***

On Valentine’s night Grace with no surname stunned the men in tuxedos and the overweight women of the opera persuasion when she arrived in the auditorium wearing a stunning black satin, knee-length dress and a simple silver pendant with genuine diamond earrings. Outside the snow was beginning to melt.

In a pristine black tuxedo and incongruous, scuffed brown brogues, Maximus Greenaway entered the auditorium and kissed her hand then sat down beside her.

“Erm, Maximus excuse me,” said the General Manager, “but this chair is actually mine…”

“What twoddle,” said Maximus, “this is my castle, this is my Grace, and I may sit wherever I choose.”

The General manager shrugged his shoulders and looked at Grace to say, “you are looking utterly gorgeous tonight, Grace. I do hope you will enjoy the show…”

Strange to say, she watched Maximus more than she watched the opera until her attention was turned to the sight of a little child beneath the stage, running very quickly to the back of the auditorium. The child could not have been more than eight. Her complexion was very white, pallid and sickly and the sight of her made Grace feel very unwell. Maximus gripped her hand in his, sensed how cold she was and whispered, “are you quite alright, my love?”

“Oh yes,” she said, but she was not okay. The child was in great distress and Grace could feel again that overwhelm of introjection from which she must escape. She stared at the child until its image evaporated and concentrated harder on the Marriage of Figaro…

For the encore a delicate petal of a girl stepped into the spotlight, she had jet black ringlets and a red velvet gown. As she sang it was indeed as if Adelina Patti were on the stage… and through the auditorium only Grace could see the glorious spirit wandering of Madame Patti…

***

At the dinner table that evening, in response to myriad compliments on her dress and diamond earrings, Grace heard herself say, “did you know that Adelina Patti used to send her maid to her guests carrying a tray of jewels so that the guest could choose which jewels he wanted Patti to wear at dinner.”

“You ought to be in charge of public relations,” said the general manager.

Maximus had been watching Grace via surreptitious glances as he pretended to eat his soup while making childish slurping sounds of which he was oblivious although they made Grace smile.

It was clear that every other female in attendance was acutely jealous of Grace and even though none of those women had designs on the new millionaire in town, they did not want to see such an attractive female anywhere other than on the television.

The caretaker was an avid Adelina Patti fan. He was also acutely psychic, Grace could tell. Sometimes she could hear his thoughts. He was thinking about propositioning her soon lest the bar manager beat him to it… Hence all this talk of the great diva was in an attempt to impress the guest.

As the opera guests began to leave the castle that night, Maximus was engaged in saying goodbye to everyone, leaving Grace at a table by herself until Carl came and sat beside her.

“So have you ever seen Patti?” she asked him.

“Aye I’ve seen her a few times,” he said.

“Where?” she asked.

“Here,” he said.

The bar manager approached.

“Oh no!” exclaimed the boy, “he’s not telling you he’s seen Adelina Patti’s ghost, is he?”

“It would seem so,” said Grace.

And suddenly the caretaker’s complexion turned deathly white.

“Oh my God,” he said quietly.

“What’s the matter?” asked Grace.

“He’s drunk,” said the boy.

“A little girl,” Carl said, “a little girl looking for you.”

And suddenly the sound of a child’s laughter – for less than a second – overwhelmed the bar and then ceased. Grace looked at Carl, Carl looked at Grace. Grace looked at the boy.

“Did you hear that?” she asked him.

“What?” asked the boy.

He – evidently – was not open. He had heard nothing. Furthermore he did not believe in ghosts or God; nor did he like opera.

“Then what on earth are you doing at this castle?” she asked him.

“I’m saving up enough money to go travelling,” said the boy. “And I’m nearly there. As soon as I can go I’m going.”

“She’s standing by the window,” said Carl. “She’s smiling at you, Grace, she likes you…” he said.

“All higher culture is dead,” said the caretaker, not understanding the statement he had just received from Patti’s ghost, “but it must not die at the castle. Keep higher culture alive at the castle and do it with stealth because the new owner will not permit you to.”

Then his face clouded over and he became solemn.

“What is it?” Grace asked.

“She says she remembers you,” said Carl.

“She helped you let go of life,” he said.

“What?” said Grace, perplexed.

And then came the singing again. Far off, as if the presence had drifted down the corridor and into the theatre.

“What do you mean she helped me let go of life?” Grace asked.

“I don’t understand her,” said Carl, “she’s gone now. But she likes you and she says she is glad you are back because the castle needs you cos Maximus will try and wreck the castle for money…”

Shortly after that – despite the boy’s attempts to ply her with more wine – Grace retreated to the green room.

***

“He will wreck the castle for money,” she said aloud and as she spoke a gust of wind sent the en-suite door flying open. She jumped out of bed, terrified and went into the dark theatre where the ceiling lights were flickering madly. She heard the laughter of a child again. She felt again the loving presence and she could hear a lady’s speaking voice saying “God Bless you…”

This sociopathic man must have an adversary lest he ruin the castle as he wrecked people’s lives. She had ascertained a pretty accurate image of Maximus Greenaway’s character tonight. She had been called to the castle to deliver it from his mercenary grip… On this thought she went back to her bed and slept soundly. Try as she might, Grace could not quell an intense and growing desire for Maximus Greenaway…

Chapter 4

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Gradually Maximus Greenaway and Grace without a surname became inseparable. Maximus made no decisions about the castle without her input and vice versa. When she refused to adhere to a plan thought up by him he revelled in her directness and fearless attitude towards him. He had never before known anyone who could confront him so completely. When she said “no” to him it got him excited down there and made him love her all the more.

One afternoon she sat with the caretaker and the bar manager discussing the idea that the boy ought to be removed from the bar and become assistant caretaker so that someone of legal age could work as bar manager.

“Maximus won’t let him leave the bar,” said Carl, “he’s the only one Maximus trusts with cash.”

“I bet I can talk him into it,” said Grace, “I can make Maximus do anything.”

That evening Carl told Maximus – word for word – what she had said. Maximus was furious but he said nothing. He did not like the presumption that she could manipulate him and he vehemently refused to remove the boy from behind his bar.

So she thinks she can ‘make me do anything’ he thought, incensed. He was at the telescope, watching as she walked around the courtyard. He imagined myriad scenarios in which he could show her how powerless she was in the face of his refusals. The boy would definitely stay behind the bar now, as punishment for her statement which was designed to belittle him before the staff. He loved her, but he would never allow her to think of him as easily manipulated by that love.

Gradually the snowdrops went back underground, making way for spring flowers and in that final year of the twentieth century a summer heatwave took hold of the universe.

JUST BEFORE THEIR FIRST SEX:

One afternoon he told her about his childhood abuses and began to cry

He did not elaborate too much on the acts perpetrated against his twelve year old body, but Grace guessed he had been forced to commit sexual acts for the older boys and perhaps had been literally penetrated by them too. She held Maximus very close until his sobbing subsided.

She guided his hand to her breasts where she assisted him in caressing them until she pushed his hand down the neck of her dress where his fingers found her nipples. He had good hands, clean, strong, thick fingers. She felt more aroused than she had in years and she longed to take him home to bed but was unsure whether he was actually ready for sex because he seemed so afraid.

She saw how perfectly formed was his torso, thanks to a strict regime of sit ups he performed every morning without fail. She did not see his penis because he kept it out of her sight but when he pushed his erection inside her she felt how small he was and how disappointed she was at the size. He was not tiny, but his erection had no length or girth and thus she did not feel much and ended up faking an orgasm which made Maximus feel like the man he had always wanted to be because he believed he had made his future wife happy with sex.

The following morning she attempted to put his penis in her mouth but he shouted “oh no! no! I don’t like that at all!”

Thus there was no pleasure found in fellatio and Maximus performed no cunnilingus upon Grace, which she found incredibly frustrating to the point of wanting to scream.

Thus far Maximus had particularly liked the gregarious nature of Grace’s character, but that morning – after her attempt to perform fellatio floundered – she went, as usual, to the bar to get some coffee and was gone for about forty five minutes where she was speaking to the staff and a few guests; for the castle had already begun to invite a few ghosthunters to stay there in the dormitories.

When she arrived back at the loft she found Maximus wearing a psychotic expression on his face and refusing to speak to her. He handed her a printed piece of paper which said,

“It is no longer acceptable that you go to get coffee and talk to everyone. If you are with me then you must stay with me. I do not permit you – as my partner – to go into the bar and spend ages talking to other people. If you cannot do this then we cannot be together.”

She felt insulted to say the least.

“Maximus you never before had a problem with my need to talk to people,” she said.

He refused to discuss the matter and said, “read the message again and understand it. Then you can give me an answer; either you will obey it or not.”

She left the loft then and walked alone around the country park thinking about how she had inadvertently become embroiled with a control freak who had a very small dick and was a walking dick when it came to women. With this man she would lose orgasms and her freedom to chit-chat but she would gain a castle. Was it worth it?

She concluded that the deal was worthwhile, returned to Maximus and said, “okay. No more talking to people at the bar I promise.”

PUT MORE EROTICA IN HERE

After that a new lease of life exploded out of Maximus Greenaway… never before had he felt so alive. One scorching August night as the stars sparkled madly in the clean black sky, the scent of summer barbeques wafted across the air, not a sound could be heard but the nocturnal creatures, the country park was empty … as Catherine and Maximus came into the courtyard she challenged him to a night on the roof.

“Let’s take a sleeping bag and some pillows and sleep under the stars.”

“Oh yes let’s!” cried Maximus like an excited little boy.

With his hand in hers, they climbed to the roof of the Castle. After climbing the last ladder they felt as if they were on top of the world. At the pinnacle, Maximus suddenly became overwhelmed with a desire to take off his clothes to feel the summer.

Catherine watched as he stripped. She smiled at his muscular physique and although she had never much cared for the naked male body – classing female nudity as far more aesthetically pleasing to the eye – she felt her own arousal in the form of small releases of velvety liquid which dampened the crotch of her underwear as she beheld his body. Even though she knew she would have to fake the final orgasm, she still wanted to feel an erection inside her and so she yielded as usual to Maximus Greenaway’s needs.

He lay down on the cushions and began to tell Catherine how he felt about his future.

“As the owner of the castle I must attempt to supersede the legacy left by Adelina Patti…”

“Yes, or you can simply continue her legacy,” said Catherine.

“After all,” she continued, “continuity is what it’s really all about… this building has been continued through different periods… first the gothic mansion, then the castle, the theatre then the nurses block… what will you add?”

“It’s as if the castle gives birth to a new architectural offspring throughout different eras,” said Maximus.

“Indeed,” she said.

“Catherine darling,” he said.

She looked at him with a most serious smile.

“Would you remove your clothes too?” he asked.

Without words she removed her dress to reveal again her creamy white skin, full breasts and powder pink knickers which she delicately took off.

“Catherine darling!” he exclaimed at the sight of her naked body.

What perfection she was to behold! What curves! What purity! The soft femininity of her features made him mad with desire. He looked her over as if his eyes could feel her and asked, “what is your opinion on motherhood?”

Something in Catherine’s heart began to tremble, she felt a lump sticking in her throat and struggled to say, “I do not think I am stable enough to be a mother.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

She moved closer to him and put her palm against his chest. Her touch made his burgeoning erection tingle.

“I mean that I have not lived a sufficiently stable life, I have always moved from one place to another far away place and would therefore not wish to bring a child into such an existence.”

“Ah, I thought you meant you had emotional or mental problems,” said Maximus.

“Well…” said Catherine… and the anxiety in her throat increased and her heart began to burn but her voice ceased.

She looked up at the sky and moved closer to him.

She pulled him down to the ground and put her head on his shoulder.

His fingers toyed with her hard, erect and perfectly pink nipples. His entire being was on fire. He moved up onto his elbows and leaned forward to take a nipple into his mouth.

“I think you would make an excellent mother,” he said, between kisses, “provided there is enough money for you and your child. Provided you have a good place to live.”

They began to kiss and as the kiss continued Maximus instinctively manoeuvred himself and her body until he was on top of her in the – as he remembered it from books, ‘missionary position.’ He could feel his passion rising to a point of mania. He felt his pelvis thrusting and pushing itself in a particular direction as if his body had an existence independent from his mind and all of a sudden the most beautiful sensation subsumed his penis as it miraculously found its way inside her. He closed his eyes and thrust himself inward then outward. He listened carefully to the sound of her breathing. She wrapped her legs around his back and breathed heavily, occasionally emitting soft sighs of joy.

He looked into her eyes and said, “Catherine, will you marry me?”

She did not even hesitate before she said, “yes.”

And all the loneliness of all the years of his life suddenly disintegrated. Maximus no longer felt that terrifying void inside him. He knew that he had found his life-long partner. He knew that she would make his life complete.

She did not know why it had been so easy to say yes. Never before had she wanted to be married. She felt a flicker in her gut that perhaps she only wanted the marriage because he owned the castle; could she really be so mercenary?

“Catherine,” he said, his voice faltering a little under the power of sensation racing through his body, “I want you to mother my child,” he said.

“Not yet,” she said, “let’s get married first.”

She pushed herself against him with great force and he felt her need. He knew that she too harboured the same needs as him and that her apprehension concerning pregnancy was irrational.

“I know you want a child,” he said.

“No Maximus, I don’t,” said Catherine.

He pushed himself very hard inside her then and she sensed that he had pushed with a sort of stabbing gesture as an act of defiant vengeance.

For a moment she thought she beheld a blackness in his eyes – a sort of madness – as she felt him pushing harder and faster.

“You do want a child,” he said.

And then she knew what he was intending to do and – horrified – she began to push him away.

“Maximus stop, let me go, please…”

He forced his tongue into her mouth and grabbed a fistful of her blonde hair. She bit against his tongue, but he came back for more and bit her lip in retaliation.

“I must have an heir to my castle,” he said. “Catherine, you want the same as I want… I am going to impregnate you…”

He was pushing too hard for her to fight back. His eyes were jet black as if possessed by his mission for impregnation and nothing Catherine could do or say would sway him from his path.

“Maximus I beg you to stop!” cried Catherine.

She cried out to the sky. She even called out for ‘help.’ But the castle was empty, there was only herself, her lord and master.

On and on, harder and faster did Maximus Greenaway thrust himself while Catherine sobbed under the pressure, powerless. He did not care about anything but his legacy and his legacy would be continued by a son of his own and this woman was the conduit to deliver that son. Catherine dug her nails into his arms and – summoning every ounce of her strength – tried again to push him off but Maximus forced her forearms under his so that she could not punch him. When her screams grew too intense Maximus stuffed a pillow into her mouth and grabbed fistfuls of her hair, yelling “stop it! Be quiet, you want this as much as I do.”

A tremendous pain was burning Catherine’s abdomen, she felt as though she had been kicked on the inside and she felt sure she would vomit at any moment… for Maximus the violence of sex elated him and heightened his erotic pleasure… he had been thrusting so violently into her that she felt extremely wet and thus did he perceive that she wanted to be impregnated as much as he wanted to commit the deed… every time he pulled himself a little out of her the pleasure ebbed in tantalising anticipation of the next forward thrust. In desperation she had bitten into her own arm and now her own blood was running over her elbow and onto his arm. He wiped his forehead in her blood and went on, aroused by the sight of her blood, pushing his tongue against it and licking it… like a vampire feeding on virgin blood, like a dog at its prey… she was too afraid to look into his eyes now, so demonic was the expression in the engorged black pupils. His mouth was twisted into an expression of pure intent to harm and he began to smell evil, she thought… a painful, pungent smell, the smell of death, the smell of destruction… How could she have put herself in such a precarious position?

Maximus could smell her blood and he liked it, it made him want to own her even more. He dug his well-manicured fingernails into her thighs and drew more blood which made her yelp like a wounded animal, then he smiled at the sight of her blood beneath his fingernails and put a finger to his tongue where he could again taste her pain…

Heavy droplets of sweat came pouring like rain into her hair and over her face and so salty was the perspiration that it stung her eyes…

And on and on he went pushing as deep as he could go inside her until he was sure he could go no further, until she felt she would break.

Pleasure belonged in another lifetime, gone was any strand of affection she had felt for Maximus Greenaway; now she had only fear and rage. How could there ever have been any semblance of pleasure? Conversely, Maximus was in the throes of pleasure with every new thrust, with every pull back, with every bite of her flesh and every drop of his sweat his being was on fire with so many sensations cascading all over him, racing through him while one pleasure became another became another like a kaleidoscope of sensuous movement all achieving unparalleled pleasure… Maximus was on top of the world and – the castle being his world – he was – quite literally – on top of the world that night. He felt like a king in complete control of his kingdom and that she – his woman – would soon be the bearer of his offspring; a joy which he had never expected to know in this lifetime.

On he went with feverish intent, surprised and proud of his virility. On and on in the production of a child which he felt was to be the product of pure love and that she still felt the same way as he did and that she also wanted – even longed for – a child borne out of their mutual love of each other and the castle.

Strangely, gently, he began kissing Catherine’s neck. He gazed into her eyes and she dared to look back and for a moment she saw what seemed to be an expression of love. He tried to kiss her mouth but she bit his bottom lip until it bled and he pulled his mouth away wild with excitement at the passion coming through her, soon to be his bride.

He grabbed one of her ankles and pushed her leg straight up so as to give himself the perfect angle for Maximus penetration and he breathed in deeply as if acknowledging that he was about to go for the final big push… in the final throes of passion Maximus heaved sobs of pure joy while Catherine’s legs shook uncontrollably and her heart threatened to seize up. She tried to tense her vaginal muscles enough to push his erection out of her body but the more she squeezed the harder he pushed.

And suddenly Catherine felt her self – body and mind – floating high above the scene so that she could witness what looked like a rape of her own body while she, being out of her body, could see the monster that was Maximus Greenaway holding her down as she screamed and pushing into her but she had separated herself from her body and she could not feel anything at all and then she was falling off the roof and falling down down down into the courtyard where she did not hurt herself as she landed and she was then standing at the front door to the gothic mansion in the year 1843 and she was speaking in the Welsh language – of which she had no knowledge – to a family of a husband and wife and four young children. The gentleman was Captain Rice Powell, he had commissioned the building of this mansion for his family. They all stood outside and talked about the unfinished house and its incongruity. And from the roof they all heard loud screams coming from Catherine in the future while the captain shook his head in deep disapproval of Maximus Greenaway.

And then – suddenly again – Catherine was rushed back inside her twentieth century suffering body and somewhere in the distance was a crying sound; a blood-curdling crying sound… a child was crying somewhere in the distance, the whimpering was getting louder until finally – overwhelmed – Catherine surrendered to the scene and let him do whatever he must to her body while she – by incredible mental concentration – managed to disengage her mind from her body… as a backwards sensation of falling came to her first and as she fell she beheld a dazzling light through a tunnel… for a brief moment she was nothing and when she opened her eyes she was in a different place, in a different time, and she was a child and she was crying… all around her were hospital beds and little girls in white gowns. Many of the little girls were coughing while nurses in old-fashioned uniforms examined the children. Catherine was suddenly in the throes of a coughing fit herself and two nurses held her to still the shaking of her body. As she held onto a nurse she saw again that dazzling light through a tunnel and she was acutely terrified of that light because it meant death.

“I can see the light, Nurse,” she said in her little girl voice.

“Stay away from the light, Catherine,” said the nurse.

“I don’t like the light, nurse,” she said.

“You do not have to go to the light, Catherine,” said the nurse.

And gradually the coughing ceased.

Little Catherine screwed her eyes tight shut. She was not ready to go to the light.

Then suddenly Catherine was back inside the terror of her present day rape beneath Maximus Greenaway. That first flash of sociopathy she had seen in him was an absolute truth, she realized… not only sociopathy but also psychosis was part of his character. The baby kept on crying from afar and Maximus heared it momentarily. He paused. The crying stopped. As he went on, she knew that he felt what he was doing was right. She knew that he even felt she was actually aroused by his actions. She cursed herself for having considered he might be a suitable husband purely because he owned the castle. He was a chronic narcissist and all he wanted was her body as a delivery vessel for his imagined child and as she mused on these ideas he thrust into her faster and faster until – from deep down in his abdomen – Maximus felt the approaching onslaught of a monumentally charged explosion; an explosion of new life, an explosion promising a rush of pure pleasure… coming from deep, deep inside him, a powerful, all-consuming explosion and the closer it got the harder he pushed because he knew what it meant and finally came a tidal wave of pleasure – borne from his own power – and he felt his mind exploding into a million fragmentations and triumph was his for the first time as Maximus Greenaway had ejaculated his legacy into this woman, gaining dominion over the woman and crowning himself King of the Castle.

He did not care that she lay underneath him bloody, bruised and sobbing, in shock and traumatized. He kissed her on the top of her head like a good little girl. Crying she may be now, but he knew that she would thank him in time. He collapsed on top of her and relaxed every muscle in his body. The sound of the child crying from afar continued like a horrifying lullabye… His breathing gradually began to slow and not long afterward he rolled onto his side and fell into a deep slumber there on the roof of the castle.

Catherine could not sleep. She stared up at the sky. She could hear the child crying from far away… and when his snoring became constant, Catherine crawled away from Maximus and crept, wrapped in a blanket, to the green room where she lay in the darkness through snatches of terror and exhaustion. She slept intermittently, awakening always with a start having relived the rape in dreams and seeing his shadow thrusting over her.

And when she had achieved a semblance of stillness she noticed how her body felt odd and she knew for sure that she was, indeed, with child and she had no idea what she would do about it. And from far off the sound of crying persevered until she felt like screaming.

Examining the myriad bruises on her body, she hated Maximus Greenaway and she hated the castle and she hated Madame Patti and above all she hated herself.

***

At noon the next day Maximus entered the green room without knocking. He carried a suitcase and was possessed with a countenance of authority he had never before felt in himself.

Catherine lay asleep. Her face was bruised. She was in the middle of a bad dream and cried out as he came near to the bed. Behind him she saw a small shadow tugging at his shirt and she wondered why he seemed not to feel it.

“Catherine darling,” he whispered.

She did not awaken. She began shaking her head and hitting the pillow.

“Catherine!” he shouted, and took her hand.

He kissed her forehead and touched her cheek until she opened her eyes. When she saw him she violently recoiled.

“What is it?” Maximum asked, deeply insulted.

She looked nervously into his eyes. In the distance she heard the former whimpers of a child becoming screams. She realised that he felt no regret about how he had raped her last night. She saw that he felt as if he had committed a most loving, masculine act last night. She saw in his expression how proud he was of himself.

And the screams from far away were coming closer but Maximus could not hear them… he began putting her clothes into a suitcase, saying, “Catherine, I am taking you to my loft, you shall live with me from now on. We shall, today, make a date for our wedding. We are to be married in the theatre. We shall announce the date tomorrow.”

“No!” she screamed.

“Oh yes, Catherine darling,” he said, “you must be close to me now. I have to take care of you.”

A thousand ages smashed against each other as Maximux Greenaway dragged Catherine with no last name out of her bed. The past lives she once had lived were screaming in agony as if they were being dragged to the gates of hell. Her mind splintered and fragmented and she could not see the way as he marched her through the courtyard to his loft. There was she to become Rapunzel. There – in that tower – overlooking everything but interacting with nothing, was her pregnancy to go to term while she – imprisoned by what some people call ‘love’ – sat catatonic, with new life inside her but all but dead herself.

Maximus remained stony faced and determined that – as the mother of his son – she would not be allowed to live anywhere other than with him.

Across the courtyard Catherine dragged her feet, feeling the presence of all those eras running in circles around her. She could hear Patti singing opera and the Davies family speaking Welsh… she could hear little children coughing and she could smell burning flesh coming up from the cellars…

In the corridor she saw a little girl with long blonde hair in a white gown, crying and coughing and holding out her thin arms to Catherine and whaking her head as if to say “no, do not go up there with him.”

But Maximus pushed Catherine up the stairs to his attic. He put her into his bed and took her temperature. She had a fever, sweat was pouring off her like water and she was trembling all over. He called a doctor. The doctor prescribed some Valium and insisted she be kept warm and still. Maximus immediately tore up the prescription for Valium; no mother of his son would be taking tranquilizers. He had not wanted to tell the doctor of the pregnancy yet. He wanted to keep the joyous secret to himself a while before announcing that he had an heir on the way…

From the next morning Catherine developed terrible morning sickness which would last all day into early afternoon. By night she could not sleep which deeply affected Maximus so that he could not sleep either and so they both became more and more irritable with each other. Maximus was overwrought at the thought that his son would be still born or somewhat deformed because the mother was so unwell, but try as he might he could not rouse Catherine from her seeming descent into madness. The more tired Catherine was the more she had visions of her past lives and the ghosts of those with whom she had previously lived at the castle.

In the early hours of one morning he awoke to find her gone. He raced around the castle alone not finding her, frantic that she may be sleepwalking and had fallen and hurt the baby…

Catherine, meanwhile, had half awoken and – sleepwalking – she went to what was then the new bridal suite but which had used to be Adelina Patti’s private chapel.

She entered the room and got down on her knees. Through another door an old Catholic priest entered.

“Forgive me father, for I have sinned,” said Catherine.

She was not – at the end of the twentieth century – a Catholic. Catherine was presently a Protestant. But in her sleepwalking she was momentarily possessed completely by the spirit of Adelina Patti. She needed to confess about her pregnancy because she perceived it as a sin against humanity and that the child would be borne from a brutal rape. She wanted to escape from Maximus but did not know how. He had taken everything from her. He had once loaned her a car so that she could go for a drive alone or in the event of an emergency but he had confiscated the keys on the morning he brought her to his loft. She was too sick to work but could nto go anywhere anyhow. She secretly wished Maximus would have a heart attack and die. He was so nervous all the time and so infuriatingly impatient and intense that all she wanted to do was feign sleep. She looked forward to the times he went to his office to work so that she could be left alone. She was catatonic by day and only came to life after dark when she wandered the castle alone as Maximus slept and she awakened the dead as her guides through the swamp of despair in which she felt trapped. She had wanted nothing more than to remain at the castle until her own death but now she wanted to escape and start a new life.

And so the priest lay his hand on her head and said, “my child, you must see this pregnancy through for it is God’s will that you bring a child to the castle. Patti was childless and many children died here during the castle’s time as a hospital for tuberculosis. You can alter the effect of history and bring an heir to this castle who will one day replace Maximus Greenaway – for Maximus Greenaway is not a holy man.”

When Maximus heard her cries from the bridal suite, Catherine had fallen to the floor and was tearing her own hair out, enraged that the priest had said she must see the pregnancy through. She had hoped for some sort of miscarriage or accident or some direction to prevent the birth. Upon seeing Maximus she jumped into the present moment as if awakening from a nightmare. He picked her up and carried her back to the loft where she cried all night. The next day he took her to the doctor where she was allowed to see the GP in private. As the pregnancy was still a secret she said

“Doctor I am having a crippling bout of insomnia – can you please give me some sleeping pills and something for terrible headaches such as Tramadol. I only respond to opiates.”

She left the surgery with a prescription for zopiclone and tramadol and was taken to the pharmacy where she assured Maximus it was only some fortifying minerals for pregnancy that she had been prescribed.

That night was her first sleeping pill. She took it shortly after Maximus fell asleep and then decided to walk through the courtyard. A gorgeous warm and unafraid sensation took hold of her body, the little blonde girl came running to her in the white gown… she picked up the child and carried her into the theatre where they danced for hours to the sound of Madame Patti singing great operatic songs.

And for the next week, every night, Catherine took a great deal of opiates and sleeping pills and experienced that weightless, joyous state known to all drug addicts in the honeymoon period of early addiction. If anyone made Catherine a drug addict it was Maximus Greenaway and his rape and imprisonment of her. She hated him with a passion and she was secretly enraged at herself for allowing a man with such a miniscule penis to impregnate her.

On the eighth night Maximus secretly stayed awake and caught Catherine as she was getting out of bed. He grabbed her by the hair and said, “and where are you going, my dear?”

“Let go of me, Maximus, I need some fresh air…” she said struggling.

He pulled her hair harder until she screamed.

“It’s no good screaming,” he said, “we are the only ones here tonight. No one will hear you. Why, I could kill you right now and no one would hear you die.”

His eyes were jet black. To his side she suddenly saw the old gentleman in a top hat again, shaking his head in profound disapproval.

Catherine began to sob pathetically.

“Catherine,” said Maximus, “I do not want you to continue with this pregnancy. I suspect that you have been having sex with the bar manager, Christian. Hence I am not even sure if the baby is mine. Tomorrow you will go to the hospital and undergo a termination. When you have recovered you must leave my castle and never come back.”

“Then let me return to the green room,” she said.

And – much to her surprise – Maximus let her go, alone.

“I have instructions to take you to the hospital,” he said.

Maximus had made all necessary arrangements for the termination. That day – while Catherine was under anaesthetic – Maximus sat in the country park and buried an imaginary spirit – his son – beside the memorial stone with Adelina Patti’s name on it. Tears flowed from his eyes like never before. He felt a pain deep in his heart that he had never thought possible. And even though he hated her he also missed the woman he had fallen in love with so quickly. She had used him and abused him! She had led him to believe that she would be a good wife when all she really wanted was to be joint owner of the castle. He convinced himself that she had been secretly sleeping with young Christian – even though this was nto true – so that he could justify why he had arranged for an abortion. But on some deeper level, hidden under all the rage and fear and suspicion, Maximus knew that it was he himself who had killed his one and only son and heir and that was why he must call Catherine with out a surname a “murderer.”

He told the general manager that she had been seeing another and he was not the father of her unborn child. He told the general manager to transport her to and from the termination and to ensure that she was kept out of his way.

She was very ill upon returning from the hospital. Autumn was on its way, the leaves were falling off the trees and the wind was high in the valley. Catherine felt dreadfully sick and could not eat. Maximus came to see her at the green room where she burst into tears upon seeing him. He took her into his arms and said, “you’re a good person Catherine.”

And thus did Catherine feel as if he had forgiven her.

He lay awake all night, sobbing and cursing her, in the throes of a confusion he had never known before.

He wrote a long letter to her and posted it under the green room door in the middle of the night. And thus was his former kindness inverted.

Dear Catherine,

I am writing because if I come face to face with you I am afraid of what I may do to you. Yesterday you chose to murder the only thing I had ever loved. You offered me your body, you accepted my proposal of marriage then you took away the only chance I ever had at happiness. To say you have ruined my life is an understatement.

It is your fault that I have inside myself an attraction for the female. It is your fault that I now desire an intimate relationship – even marriage – with a woman. I do not want a beautiful woman like you because beauty brings a litany of problems. As it is your fault that I have discovered these needs it is your responsibility to find me a wife. I have signed up to various – expensive – dating agencies and wish you to begin the search tomorrow. You may use my office to do so. I want an Eastern European wife because the women in that culture know their place. I will pay you just above minimum wage at an hourly rate until you have completed this task. When my wife is received you will leave my castle.

Maximus.

She read the letter three times. The next day, as white as a ghost, Catherine hastened to his office where she found him hunched over his computer with a black, demonic glare.

“Maximus, I cannot do this work for you,” she said, “I intend to leave the castle as soon as I am strong enough…”

He turned to see her, glared into her eyes, then picked up a pencil and began doodling on a blank page as if ignoring her refusal. Never again was Maximus Greenaway to speak to Catherine with no surname…

She went back to the green room to a fit of coughing in which she fell onto the bed where blood clots began coming out of her mouth. Her body sweated and shivered. She felt worse than ever. She fell asleep and began delirious dreams, hallucinations, visions of another era, of three other eras… she felt herself covered in an enormous, rubber blanket covered in snow… two nurses in old-fashioned aprons and head dresses approached her bed and gave her various things to drink. She realised that she was very young suddenly – no more than eight years old – and that she was terrified because across the ward where she lay – which was full of big beds and children – she could see a vast light through a dark tunnel and the light seemed to be calling to her to enter it.

“I don’t want to go to the light,” she heard herself say to the nurses.

“Do not go to the light!” said the ward sister who rushed forward in a frenzy.

They had lost one too many children that week at Adelina Patti Hospital. This tuberculosis epidemic was annihilating the future by way of the present. At this rate there would be no little girls to become women in the nineteen thirties or forties.

Through his telescope Maximus saw Catherine wandering the courtyard in a white dress with blood down its bodice. She coughed and spluttered and spoke to herself in the voice of a child. And intermittently he could see a small child following her and then evaporating before his very eyes…