The Sisters of Castle Stone

#5: Cocktails and Caviar

It looked like a scene from a film, a grand and magnificent structure. Castle Stone stood surrounded by a sea of evergreen trees that stretched as far as the eye could see.

Charlotte's eyes widened as she stepped out of the car. The soft breeze blew her dark chestnut-coloured hair, which she tucked back behind her ear. Sweet birds sang in the trees around her and the skies above. She took a deep breath and stood for a moment, in silence, gazing up at the sight before her. Something deep inside her felt strange, as if unnerving, and the anxiety twisted inside her like an angry snake.

Pretty pale green ivy climbed up the side of the huge palatial grey stone building. Its four towers were so high they almost tickled the clouds, as each flew a flag at full mast in the colours of Clan Greyson. Charlotte looked the castle up and down. The old casement windows were partially lined with lead and heavy, light-coloured curtains hung within. A bouquet sat in a vase on the windowsill. She counted six windows on the top floor and five on the ground. Then something caught her attention. A subtle twitch of a curtain high on the attic floor. As far as she was aware her family were the castle's only occupants, so who, or what, was that? For a moment, Charlotte wondered if there wasn't staff working there like there would have been in times long since past.

She could easily imagine herself lounging around on a velvet rouge chaise lounge, a little bell sitting on a coffee table in front of her, which she could ring if she wanted something. No matter how silly. Prawn cocktail with caviar and escargot, whatever they were, and a side order of chips. Lots of chips, hot and smothered with mayonnaise and heaped with glorious quantities of cheese. Just thinking about it made her stomach rumble. What if there wasn't a proper chef?

The hard sound of Dad's smart black shoes, against the cold flagstone courtyard, echoed through the silence as he headed towards the shimmering black front door. He reached out his hand and gave a loud knock. The girls stood close by, and Charlotte waited. Her heart pounded inside her chest. Her forehead began to feel wet and clammy.  She breathed in the fresh air and the heavenly floral scent of the beautiful flowers that bloomed brightly in the sizable flower beds under the downstairs windows.

Standing outside the castle, waiting for the door to open, felt like ages. Every second felt like a minute had passed, and every minute, like an hour. In reality, it was no longer than perhaps five minutes, maybe a minute or two more, but in Charlotte's mind, she'd been there for a house. The loud rumbling sound of vans heading down the driveway towards the house caught her attention. At least, fingers crossed, she'd have somewhere to sleep. As the vehicles headed around the side of the property, the creaking sounds of an old door could be heard. She looked straight ahead and watched as the huge heavy front door of the castle began to creak open.

Charlotte jumped back. A bald head, not home to a single hair, peered out from behind the door. Her father stepped forward and the man opened the door wider.

"Good evening," said Charles, "I do hope you've prepared the Castle for our arrival."

A strange pale figure stood in the doorway, his crisp white shirt partially concealed by a tartan waistcoat, with a fur sporran around his waist that slightly hung over his dark navy tartan kilt. Long woollen socks were pulled up over his knees and Charlotte couldn't help but wonder whether or not he was a true Scotsman.

"Aye. Everything's been done to ya request sire." He spoke in one of the strongest Scottish accents the girl had ever heard and unfortunately for the gentleman at the door, she'd heard a voice similar to that before.

The young girl's mouth gradually began to turn up at the corners, and a silly sound like a squeaky little mouth escaped her voice. The more he spoke, the less control she felt over her sense of humour,  and the more she thought he sounded like a character from her favourite film.