The Letter

by

Thomas Leathan-drum

Chapter 1

The Letter.

The letter arrived in the first post of the week, captured in a yellow envelope, with the sender's decipher in pride of place, and holding the fold tight, a red wax seal indented with initials ... its appearance giving no indication of its importance.       Mr. Umber took the letter on a silver tray to the study, placing it on the mahogany desk, where it sat unopened, anticipating  Mr. Graham Darlington's return.

    These are times when travel was by horse, and distance consuming to achieve. Winter weather added to the inconvenience, and slowed arrival times. Important correspondence posted by lawyers, requiring a favourable reply but when left unattended can prove disappointing.

    So it is; the letter sat un-opened.       With the master absent from the house and not trouble with expecting such a letter, and nor were those at home; no thought was given to its existence. 

Chapter 2

Holly.

Through the small glass panel windows. The winter's rays without any summers heat; creep across the bedroom floor, falling short of Holly's bed~her bed, her room, her prison,unable to rise from it, or escape from it, without help~help freely provided by Mr. Umber and his wife, both in the graceful years of life; faithful servants, almost family; for when as a young couple established their position in the household; growing into their profession, as so did the children into their adulthood.

    Poor restless Holly under her blankets pondering her brothers return, never knowing the truth of anything, experiencing nothing but loneliness in the dark hours of night, or when the house is empty of others; denied the ability to witness the sun or the moon as they adventure across the sky, reading by the light of a candle love poems from her father's library, she reads~reads from cover to cover, each encouraging rimes to flow un-restraint one day to a trickle the next, then scribed in her diary hidden by the leather bind.      

    Confined to her bed every flower on the wallpaper she has counted, with a likeness copied by pen to paper, learnt by heart names of each portrait holder,  country landscapes honoured with a title, each individual character scrutinised.

          Poor restless Holly every day of any season, be night or day, her young heart leaps with joy and happiness, enjoying days when her brother is free from business, spending his time with her, when he should be with a loved one of his own; but he never complains or is eager to leave her.       Happiness is at a high  when with strong arms he lifts her from her bed ... gently into a chair with wheels, and together fly out through the opening in her prison walls; free to breath the fresh aromas flowing thought-out the garden; absorbing scents that she can only smell from her bed when the wind is kind to her; taking the narrow stone laid path with boarders determined to hold the soil at bay.

Chapter 3

'Come everyone,' called Mr. Darlington.

Josh and David, are brothers, Josh the older aged 17, David 15; both sons of Joseph Flint and his late wife Mary.     Like their father, tall strong young men, brought up on hard work and till the death of their mother feed good homemade wholesome food.       

    This morning the boys have the Darlington's coach attached security to~two of the estate's fineness horses.     The coach has not the status for a King or Queen, for it does not glitter from gold fittings when the sun seeks them out; yet is made with a solid frame, with bright coloured interior, comfortable leather bench seating for six and coloured curtains, to be drawn over the glass at night.     It's wheels assembled from hard timbers bound with iron forged from local fires; straps and buckles... the best money can procure; while the door panels proudly carry the family crest.      

    'Come everyone', called Mr. Darlington, eager for his outing, carrying his long coat — with his wife of thirty-years — dressed neither for a winter or a spring adventure; accompanied by his son Graham, a fine figure in his hunting jacket, joined by his daughter Holly, and  cousins Isobel and Anne - both staying once more at the request of their mother - each with a hooded robe as traveling attire.      Isobel enjoys the company of Holly and Anne of Graham ... she showers strong feelings of warmth and affection on him, they on occasions seen together holding hands — embracing each other under the disguise of a friendly game of hid and seek;   she stands no taller than to the base of Graham's chest, and when standing side by side she is eclipsed by his shadow         

    Mrs. Darlington informs all who will listen, she has kind feelings for Anne, in particular her slight figure, her soft and gentle voice, the willingness to please Graham.      Cousin or not, a marriage will satisfy all.

    Josh with reins in hand, sits ready to take the party out through the gates and along the path.       As the family arrives David opens the door, placing the little steps to help the ladies.      Mr. Darlington takes the hand of his wife, followed by Graham helping all three young ladies into the coach; the last hand is that of Anne.    Mr. and Mrs. Darlington sit together facing forward ... with the basket of nibbles between them, in easy reach of all, incase refreshments are required before lunch.      

      Opposite, under the non-offensive occasional glances of Mrs. Darlington, nestled and intertwined tightly, are the four youngest; Graham happily sandwich at close quarters.

    The larger baskets containing lunch proper, cold drinks for the girls, ale for the men, home made jam and home baked bread; freshly churned butter, moulded by hands of local young girls, all lovely packed in individual hampers, by the wife of Mr. Umber ...  securely on the roof, guarded by their bindings.Chapter 4

The day brought more than the change of season.

That day summoned the change, instructing springs songs and warm winds to prevail over winter chills; exchanging in a glance, soft white snow for new pasture green.      Fresh young creatures, grateful for the opportunity to venture from their winters home, to supplement their diet with berries.     Wondering sheep with coats as white as show patrol the path towards the gate; witnessing the parallel strips being left by the coach wheels; two bronze lionesses  heads fixed upon the block pillars, one to the left and on to the right of the path, keep guard; their glazed eyes unaccustomed to the drawn light, wiping from their noses that of the steam forced from nostrils of horses endeavours, adding to the passengers pleasures.      From the windows wiped by gloves, the travellers enjoy scenes of nature as it evolves.        

    The conversation within the coach covers subjects of all descriptions, Mr. Darlington, business and house expensive,  his words falling on deaf ears, his wife reading a novel by ...... turning the pages with a figure free from her glove.   Holly and Isobel specking words only they, can hear ... glancing from each other, to out the window and spying on the young lovers~the young lovers holding hands within they're clothing for no one to view; they stared at each other afar.        

The trip now was in its second hour; the passengers have changed seats — the nibbles basket has had its treasures forfeited.      David has taken the reins.    Josh is standing with his father.     The low grey clouds have been replaced with clear; sun rays have been encouraged to slice their way into a winters image. 

    'Is it time for lunch,' shouted Mr.Darlington.      David brought the coach to a stop.  Mr. Flint descended to the ground and spoke to Mr. Darlington.   'Are we not stopping for lunch?' Molly asks.    'Not yet, we will once the bridge has been crossed,' was his reply.

    A better day could not be dreamed of; together in superb company of family and loved ones, progressing easily into the country-side; gliding through a winters morning, hoping to arrive  to a spring day ... one filling with blossoms, butterfly's, birds, hares and deer.

    Their movement only slowed as David masters the coaches entry onto the old wooden bridge, the bridge just three coaches in length and one wide, still covered with snow like ice ... he must manoeuvre between a fallen tree trunk and the edge come to subsidence.    His concentration interrupted by his father's words of encouragement; though many are lost due to the distance that they have to travel, but he knows by the tone of the voice, the trust his father's has in is ability.   David has his hands to the breast-strap of the lead horse, Graham had excused himself to his father and attends to the second horse, Mr. Flint is positioned behind the coach.      

    'Walk on,' commands Josh with gentle encouragement,     and so forward the horses and coach slowly trip onto the bridge.

~~~~         

    The snow stops falling, what was days before hail, and before that heavy rain.   The powerful gale stops blowing, what was hours before a strong wind, what was hours before that a breeze.    The birds stop singing, their happy tweets are forgotten, their plumage tranquil.     At the church overlooking the bridge the bells stop ringing, as if the ropes were cut.    The choir stops rehearsing, returning the words to the song sheets.   The vicar starts praying, opening his bible; for all eyes and ears descend upon the object depended on the bridge; an entity made by craftsman, and being drawn by animal strength for the purpose of their master.   In silence, all elements pause a moment and witness the sliding from life to death.Chapter 5

Two Angels descend upon Bundlewood.

Among the bed of snow in accompany of wild strawberries, red and green; between roots of large elm trees, small children of no age play, like snakes with no bite extend themselves twisting; some rising to branches above eye sight, others stare Anne straight into her small beautiful blue eyes, now blind to her lover ... forgotten by her angel~her angel failing to address her need to be saved from the cold water waiting under the bridge that now all in the coach were plugging towards.  Mr. Darlington silent in speech, one arm bracing his body the other his wife~wife and mother of Graham, and Holly; eyes crying with clear crystal tear drops, one for each year of her life and one each for those within this tomb~tomb, a casket built by craftsmen with the finest timber, leather of young calfs and curtains of coloured cotton; each body intwined within the next, head to shoulder, arm in arm, wet warm bodies; no headstone between them.

    In the years to come to celebrate those lost that day a brass plaque screwed to a replacement beam, names etched in relief.           

    Isobel with thoughts of only her mother and her sister, the mother who always insists she loves her, yet sends her away; and of her sister Anne, a year younger than she, her little sister~a sister who embraces her father's confidence and with ease; able to win the mutual trust of others, learn private matters and secrets with a flick of any eye, the sway of a her head, and a why not tell smile; neither sex is immune from her clutches.

~~~~

   God sends two angels to Bundlewood this day to save a brother and a sister.   The choir returns to song.     The birds circle with feathers fanning.   The vicar's prayers have been answered.     Parse The Lord.     All is, as it was, once.     Or is it?

    Graham and David guild the team of horses slowly towards, and onto the timbers of the bridge.     Josh holds the team steady.    Mr. Flint the evaluator of the rear wheels.      No one breaths out of period, all breath as one, all as one the breath is held, all as one the breath is exhaled; seconds are exported into minutes; slowly he on top and those five in the coach and those two at the front and he at the back creep forward; the snow parts for the wheels; the twisted ropes of steel, that are at this time securely fastened by the maker, take the strain; tightening their grip as one, not as individuals, holding the pillars with the horizontal beams as they take the strain, the planks who's job it is to form level ground for the coach to passover — one in ten do; the lazy ninth does not, with its weakness to hold firm allows the one on top and the four in the coach drop to their deaths and he at the rear to follow them.

    The screams come loud and fast from the loved ones inside; Graham cannot attended to their survival, nor can he stop David from being a Good Samaritan.   The planks open themselves to the waters below, providing the coach access down to the cold water~water there waiting to take them to Gods domain.

~~~~

              A thousand birds full the sky, their eyes join those of Graham; together scanning, screening, searching every crevasse, fissure, nock and cranny, nothing is overlook; no speck near or far neglect, no stone un-turned.       'God, what have you done with them'? Graham screams.    He is ready to throw himself from safety where he stands into the water below to be with the taken; a miracle, before his eyes ... rising from the dead through the cracked ice twisting skyward like a serpent fluted from a cane basket, Holly appears.Chapter 6

Graham Darlington's down fall.

With the older generation reluctantly passed, so did go the good fortune; with it also the knowledge learnt through time and experience.      Advantages where taken from one so young~one so young and new to the business world — one so young with little understanding and confidence to question those more worldly; investments made, based on half-truths, and a lack of understanding; resulting in combined failures, absorbing all of the families finances, sucking the life out from under all that rely on those very funds, those unaware of the consequences of a poor enterprise entered into.

    'You have the deeds to the estate Mr. Darlington,' the question coming from Mr. Hawks.      'I have,' and with that said, the paper is handed across the table, signatures added to the paper in ink, end the relationship Graham Darlington has to the family home and those there still, unaware of these happenings.       Now a man of no wealth or standing, Graham leaves the offices of Mr. Hawks; broken, ashamed, drenched with humiliation, fighting a thousands tears, the owner of no more than eights weeks to vacate his family home~a home he was born to, the home of many generations passed.     

    From the office of Mr. Hawks to the stables with the intention of collecting his horse and return home, should have only taken few steps, but was delayed by a visit to the Oak-tree Inn.   Keeping himself to himself Graham sat a table hear the fire, staying till time was called by the in keeper, then the short walk from there was completed.

    But with all that had gone before him the trip home was not achieved by his own horse and desire to arrive there; with no company to control his mind and to console him at this time, to lighten his troubles to share in his failures of business and the affaires of the heart, drowned him in sorrow~sorrow greater than he could master.      How was he to disclose the news that the family home and all its lands, farm workers, all the stock, now belonged in total to Mr. Hawks. 

    His thoughts became blurred with memories of his father, his mother, his loving making to his cousin Anne; now salvaged from the river's bed, and laid to rest in the churchyard~churchyard abreast of the hill favouring the bridge that took the lives of those he'd loved; yet he must proceed putting his affairs in order, first to attend to Holly's welfare.      But how can he return to her with this sorrow, to burden her with the knowledge of his misgivings ... where can he take and provide for her now, for he is his dissolute.

     'Walk on', the only two words spoken' within the last hour, two more than said to those met on his journey; The clouds close in, his horse refuses to move, tears are blurring his sight; but through the tears come faces~faces of ancestors, lining the walls, hanging with proud, displaying strong faces, posture, and grace; great-grandfathers, grandfathers and the alike; all successful in their time on earth — trusting their decedents to follow in their footsteps ... each in their time, to increase value and status for the Darlington dentistry.       

    Had Graham not stopped on the bridge, that had replaced the old; stopped he did on the very spot~the spot that had opened up and swallowed all, on that day.      Dismounted he stands with heavy heart and with discuss in himself, his failings, his inability to maintain his family home ... shame like a rash spreading from head to toe, his desire to scratch only out voted by his voluntary death.        

Chapter 7

 The fire reveals a secret.

Poor restless Holly counts the days since Graham has graced her with his company.    Old Mr. Umber has not the strength to lighten her bed rest by a walk.      Mrs. Umber has not been well, he informs Holly.   'Have you sent for the doctor?' Words coming from one who appreciate illness relief.       'No' is his reply.

    The doctor is call for, the medicine prescribed.     'Bed rest for you Mrs. Umber,' the doctor orders~then orders a hot drink for all.

    A message is sent to the last place known of Graham's whereabouts.    

    The next day the doctor is called, Mrs.Umber is not recovering; death is descending upon her with steps, each one speeder than the last.       The next day the vicar is summoned, his words only reprieve her an hours extension.      The next caller is the undertaker.

   Another message is sent to the last place known of Graham's whereabouts.    

   A fraction if time compared with the age of a life passes, only a young child from Dundlewood cottages comes to mind the needs of Holly; the child brings no news of Graham, no message, no hint of his movements.      

    'Please fetch Mr. Umber to my side,' Holly asks of the child.     'He has no strength to attended you,' the child whispers.     'Shall I draw the curtains for you miss?’  'Please, and call for the doctor to attend to Mr. Umber'.

    The doctor is call for, no medicine prescribed, will return Mr. Umber to himself.      'Bed for you Mr. Umber,' the doctor advises.  ‘Put your affairs in order’.

  A message is sent to the last place known of Graham's whereabouts.   

   The next day the doctor is called again, Mr. Umber has done as advised and joined his wife in the after world, without a visit or a word to the last of the Darlington family member within his reach.

    The next day the vicar is summoned, his words lost to the dead.  The next caller is the undertaker.

    No message is sent to the last place known of Graham's whereabouts, requesting his attendance.

~~~~

    To be have the sensation of movement stolen from one so young ... how could God be so cruel?   Why was she selected from so many — what criteria, what touchstone was used as a reference point?     No disease that affects the brain and spinal cord, could have been elevated higher than the loss of Holly's control functions; robbing her of clear vision, pinching her of balance to hold one straight, providing her with a state of numbness to her lower limbs, the loss causing such pain and discomfort, climactic feelings seducing a young female body, desperate for affection and sexual activity.

    So what can start as a lovers tiff of no great importance in the greater of all things solvable, yet left unattended without a kind word by either offended party, in no time allotted to it~is un-mastered.      As it is with a family feud started a hundred years before by ancestors long past and almost forgotten, families torn apart over a dispute between a truth to some and lies to others, never put to rest.

    So what starts from a small hot cinder from last nights fire, propelled to take light of flammable materials, burn~burn all within its circle; destroying countless generations of collections, consuming with its masterful flames, masterpieces of fine art, gathered from far off exotic countries ... travel by those on their world tours; all this lost of treasure and life of poor restless Holly, caused by her spasmodic gesture towards her reading candle  bringing it closer to her eyes.

    How can it be to watch the flames creep towards one so young and helpless, confined to her bed, with no brother to lift her with his willing strong arms to safety~safely out from within her prison, they would fly~fly through the garden to peace.        

    But no, Holly must endure the misery of death by fire, like the witches in times passed, consumed by fire at the stake for their misadventures.       Her screams are not heard for she utters none, with her last breath she recites the Lords prayer ... sadly only four words come whispering forth.     'The Lord is my ...', before the flames devourer her frail, young female body~a body never knowing the touch of a lover.Chapter 8      

The letter's contents.

Had she lived seconds longer; or been saved from her death, by a miracle, or taken from her bed to the room holding the secret of the letter that came, and was left to be opened on the return of her brother, she would have seen the heat melt the wax seal holding the folds fast and revelled the words the lawyer that place upon the yellow paper. Holly would have learnt the contents and taken advantage of they're meaning and lived happily ever after; but she did not and did not live anymore.

    The last will and testament, of Richard Goldheart.

.... having no other more fitting to benefit from my estate and fortune ... having lost my wife to illness many a year since, and of late my two loving daughters -  Isobel and Anne; pitched from me in a tragic accident; taken so early in life, so young ... they gave me fulfilment in life as in death and in spirt and in warmth of heart to help cousins they loved so much.   So it is; Graham and Holly Darlington are the sole beneficiaries of my life's savings.

The end