Ghosts

By Jane Goodhew

She had never been on a long weekend break before or rather not on her own, this was the first and she hoped one of many as it was time to venture out into the world and stop behaving like a precious child who could not manage without its nanny. The hotel looked imposing it was a country house not one of those modern buildings with no personality, this looked as if it could tell many exciting stories of love and intrigue even a murder or two. She was becoming fanciful now with her mind working into overtime instead of just chilling as they say these days. She was supposed to go into neutral and just relax and enjoy the surroundings, the leisurely walks down to the lake and then across to the woodland beyond. She could see what looked like a deep blue velvety carpet interspersed with a mixture of tree mainly old as this was ancient woodland and she remembered that in the brochure she had seen a painting of the bluebells growing in their natural habitat long before the house was built. Bluebells like her loved to be somewhere stable and can be dated back to at least the 1600’s just as her ancestors did. She decided to stop dreaming and go to her room and unpack after asking if they could prepare a picnic lunch so that she could go for a wander without having to rush back to eat in the restaurant as she could do that in the evening at her leisure.

 

                                                        

The receptionist was most obliging and after finding out what sort of sandwhich and drink she would like told her it would be ready for her when she came back down again and called for a bellboy to take her case to her room.  The room was on the third floor, it had a large bay window which looked out over the front lawn, in the distance she could see where she intended to take her walk and the path that led down to the woods.  The bedroom was larger than she had imagined and had a writing desk infront of the side window which had a view across to the stables.  She thought that maybe tomorrow she would go for a ride; she had had lessons as a child and decided it must be like riding a bike once learnt not forgotten?  She changed into more comfortable clothing and then went down the large staircase to the reception resisting the urge to slide down the highly polished bannister. 

There must have been a change of shift as it was not the kindly lady who had organised her picnic but a middle aged man who looked as if he had had enough of life and resented being there.  He eventually looked up at her and grumpily asked what she wanted, she explained she had ordered a lunch and had come to collect it so she could go for a walk in the woods without having to rush back.  Why she was telling him all of this she did not know but she wanted to talk and to try and engaged him into a conversation hoping she could extract a smile from his forlorn face.  Ever since she was a child she had disliked seeing people unhappy and therefore felt it her duty to cheer them up if possible as she had been blessed with a sunny disposition and saw life through rose tinted glasses even though it had not been that way in reality.

 

He rang down to the kitchen and in less than a minute a small wicker picnic basket was presented to her.  She thanked them both, the receptionist and the young girl who had bought it up to her who had turned and left without a word to either of them.  She handed over the key and made her way to the entrance and out into the late Spring sun.  The hyacinth scent wafted up the stone steps and it reminded her of  her aunt Maud’s cottage and the long Easter holidays that she had endured there keeping her obnoxious cousin company.  How grateful she was to be free of them all and to be able to come and go as she pleased, to answer to no-one.   She crossed over the small bridge and into the woodland; it was much cooler there in the shade of the trees which were just beginning to get their foliage back. 

She heard a rustle in the distance and saw a dark figure running through the trees, he must have known his way because in an instance he was gone and there was silence once more.  As if to keep her company the birds began to sing to one another and the bee buzzed  around her head as she bent down to smell the bluebells.  After walking for about half an hour, she decided to stop and have her lunch.  Chicken and advocado sandwich, with a variety of cheese and grapes, apples and  small bottle of wine, what more could she ask for, a few chocolates appeared at the bottom of the basket as if in answer.  Yes, she was content and happily ate the contents thinking about how she would spend the rest of the day before going back to dress for dinner.

The warm environment mixed with the wine must have made her sleepy because the next time she opened her eyes it was dark and she wondered how she would find her way back as there were no lights to be seen.  Her eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness and she saw in the distance what must have been headlights so she headed in that direction hoping that if she got to the road she could go that way back to the hotel.  Eventually she saw the exit and luckily as she did a car drove past and asked if she wanted a lift as coincidently he was staying at the same hotel as her.  She readily accepted and they talked like long lost friends until they got back and then he suggested that as he was on his own perhaps she care to join him for dinner.  How could she refuse, so saying Aurvoir they got their respective keys and went to their rooms to freshen up and dress in more appropriate attire.  She filled the bath to the top and the bubbles ran over but she didn’t care she was happy and after she had dried herself before slipping into her long white gown, she sprayed herself with her new perfume Ghost by Ghost after all that is what they all were.

 

 

  

Copyright Jane Goodhew