Post by rylevao on Jan 20, 2010 8:21:59 GMT -5
[glow=red,2,300]Escape from Loredaen Hall [/glow]
Chapter 1 - The Letter
One mild June morning, as the sun was casting it’s brilliant rays across the sky , the local postman was making his rounds. This was the kind of morning that the postman would have liked to have spent in his garden with a cup of freshly ground coffee in his hand and the morning paper upon his knee. But no, one has to work to live, so here he was.
“As if I really needed a walk”, he thought to himself grumpily, as he trudged along the sidewalk. He was a short, pudgy man with a fat, round, face. He wore a dark blue uniform and carried a big bag of letters over his shoulder. He pulled a few letters out of his bag and pushed them through the letter slot in the door of Number 4, Greenwich Close. He then walked over to Number 6 Greenwich Close, purposefully walking past Number 5. He rarely delivered mail to no. 5.
However, while digging in his bag for the letters addressed to Number 6 he stumbled upon a letter addressed to Mrs. Lilly Williams at Number 5 Greenwich Close, Manchester, England. The envelope was elaborately decorated, addressed in gold calligraphy and sealed with a coat of arms sporting a lion facing a stag.
“That’s unusual,” the postman mused. “Number 5 hardly ever gets mail, and never in my life have I seen such an elaborate envelope!” So he walked back to the house he had skipped and dropped the letter in the slot.
~
“Wake Up! Wake up!”, cried Lloyd, as he jumped on Tom. “It’s Saturday!”
“I know”, groaned Tom sleepily. “What about it?”
“It’s the beginning of Summer Hols!” Lloyd exclaimed, jumping up and running from the room. A while later Tom heard an exclamation issuing from Ernestine’s room. He did not bother to suppress a grin.
Tom Williams was the oldest child of Richard and Lilly Williams. He was fifteen; his younger brother Lloyd, was ten. He also had two younger sisters named Ernestine and Hattie. Ernestine was thirteen and Hattie was eight.
Tom peered over at the clock on his bedside table; it was nearing seven o’clock. He got out of bed and drowsily put on a green T-shirt and a pair of jeans. In Tom’s room, there was a small mirror over the relatively big dresser in the corner. He now approached this and with his reflection staring back at him he quickly combed down his black hair parting it in the middle, as was his habit.
When he opened the door of his bedroom the sweet aroma of butterscotch pancakes wafted up to him. With this scent in his nostrils, he took two steps at a time as he hurried down the stairs, for butterscotch pancakes were a favourite of his. Upon entering the kitchen, Tom saw Mrs. Williams standing by the stove flipping pancakes. His mum was a gourmet cook. Tom also saw Lloyd sitting down at the table greedily devouring three huge butterscotch pancakes drenched in syrup. Lloyd’s black hair was in a mess, as it usually was. His eyes, like Toms, were blue, and seemed to change colour to match what he was wearing. Lloyd cut a huge piece out of one of his pancakes and stuffed it into his mouth.
“Lloyd, take smaller bites,” Mrs. Williams said.
“Sorry Mum,” Lloyd mumbled, stuffing another bite of pancake into his mouth.
“Don’t ever wake me up like that again,” Tom said to Lloyd.
“If I hadn’t, I bet you would have slept through breakfast,” Lloyd replied.
However, before Tom could think of a good comeback, Hattie walked into the room. Her eyes had dark lines under them, signifying a late night, and her pink, horn-rimmed glasses were slipping down her nose, her long, brown hair hung in an untidy mess about her shoulders. Hattie was an avid reader, and was under the illusion that she knew more than she really did.
“Were you reading after hours again last night?” Mrs. Williams asked Hattie.
“Maybe,” Hattie replied, slowly pulling out a chair.
Lloyd looked up at Hattie, and then at his mother. “Mum, I just remembered, my Ghost Stories book is missing again.”
When Hattie heard him say that, her face turned red.
“Um, I have something to, um, do,” she then quickly turned and ran from the room.
Lloyd jumped up and ran after her, yelling “What did you do with it you little git?!”
Lloyd possessed a ghost story book consisting of 101 ghost stories. There was many a night when Lloyd woke up Tom with howls of fright due to a nightmare.
Ernestine entered the room, narrowly avoiding being run down by Lloyd. Soft brown curls framed her face as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She took a plate, and prepared her pancakes.
“Let me guess,” Tom said to her. “Lloyd woke you up too.”
“Bingo,” Ernestine replied. “Speaking of Lloyd, why is he chasing Hattie?”
“You’ve got one guess,” Tom replied.
“The ghost story book,” Ernestine said casually.
“Righto,” Tom replied.
“I hope she gets rid of it this time,” Ernestine said, pouring a ladle-full of syrup over her plate.
“You’re not the only one,” Tom agreed.
“Oh stop it you two,” Mrs. Williams said, smiling slightly.
“Dearest,” they heard Mr. Williams call. “There’s a letter for you.”
Mrs. Williams was curious. “I don’t usually get mail, this must be important.”
“I’ll go call Lloyd and Hattie to come and finish their breakfast,” Tom said. “It would be a shame to see these pancakes go to waste.”
Mrs. Williams left the room just as Lloyd returned holding a wet book titled “101 Ghost Stories” in one hand and an equally wet, ripped page in the other.
“Look at what she did!” Lloyd moaned plaintively. “She flushed it down the toilet.”
Tom had to suppress a laugh as Hattie walked in with a look of triumph on her face. Few people quarrelled more than Hattie and Lloyd.
“You two should finish your pancakes,” Tom said to them. “Or I’ll eat them for you.”
Therefore, Lloyd and Hattie sat down and finished breakfast.
“Tom,” Hattie said. “Where did mummy go?”
“Dad said she got something in the mail,” Tom said. “I wonder what it could possibly be,” he muttered as an afterthought.
In a short while, Mr. and Mrs. Williams walked into the kitchen. Mr. Williams looked concerned as he brushed his hand through his brown hair. Mrs. Williams was holding a red, ornately decorated envelope in her hand. She had tears in her pale green eyes, and her hands were shaking. She brushed her black hair out of her face.
“Can I have everyone’s attention, please?” She asked, with a break in her voice. “I just received an important letter in the mail. It has informed me that my Aunt Mildred has just died. Now, some—”
“Who?!” Lloyd interrupted.
“Your Great-Aunt Mildred was my mother’s elder sister.”
Ernestine piped in,” I didn’t know that you had an Aunt Mildred, why haven’t we ever heard of her?”
“Her husband died in the war and when my own mother died, shortly after that she became a recluse. It was as if she had disappeared for we never had an address for her. Apparently, she died last week of pneumonia. We’ve received a letter from her solicitors who want us present at the funeral.”
“Where will the funeral take place?” Tom asked.
“Behind the family estate, in Greenock.”
The family estate was an old mansion that had belonged to their great-great-great grandfather Archibald Loredaen. When he died, he’d left the house to his daughter, Gertrude Loredaen, but she was so distressed about her father’s death that she moved out and left the estate to the family as a place to stay.
“Why would her solicitors want us at the funeral?” Tom asked. “We didn’t even know who she was.”
“We don’t know,” Mr. Williams said.
“Now, your father and I have decided that it should be your choice if we all go or not,” Mrs. Williams went on. “For we realize it’s the beginning of your summer holidays and you have never knew your great-aunt Mildred.”
There was a long silence as the four siblings thought it over. Finally, Tom said, “I would love to go to the funeral, though I don’t think it a joyful event.”
“I’d like to go as well,” added Ernestine. “I’m eager to get a look at the family estate.”
“Ooooooh! I want to go too. It sounds exciting!” said Hattie.
“Oh, great,” grumbled Lloyd to himself. “Not an ideal start to my summer hol’s.”
“Well, it looks like that’s decided,” Mr. Williams said cheerfully, straitening his glasses.
“When do we plan to leave?” Ernestine asked.
“The funeral is on the sixteenth,” Mrs. Williams said. “So we will leave early on Monday.”
“Tomorrow we’ll pack,” Mr. Williams added.
“Won’t it cost a lot, for gas and such?” Lloyd asked. For he thought this would be a perfect excuse to stay home.
“Lloyd, do you even know where Greenock is?” Hattie asked mockingly. “It couldn’t be more than five hours away.”
“Oh, bother,” Lloyd muttered under his breath.
Chapter 1 - The Letter
One mild June morning, as the sun was casting it’s brilliant rays across the sky , the local postman was making his rounds. This was the kind of morning that the postman would have liked to have spent in his garden with a cup of freshly ground coffee in his hand and the morning paper upon his knee. But no, one has to work to live, so here he was.
“As if I really needed a walk”, he thought to himself grumpily, as he trudged along the sidewalk. He was a short, pudgy man with a fat, round, face. He wore a dark blue uniform and carried a big bag of letters over his shoulder. He pulled a few letters out of his bag and pushed them through the letter slot in the door of Number 4, Greenwich Close. He then walked over to Number 6 Greenwich Close, purposefully walking past Number 5. He rarely delivered mail to no. 5.
However, while digging in his bag for the letters addressed to Number 6 he stumbled upon a letter addressed to Mrs. Lilly Williams at Number 5 Greenwich Close, Manchester, England. The envelope was elaborately decorated, addressed in gold calligraphy and sealed with a coat of arms sporting a lion facing a stag.
“That’s unusual,” the postman mused. “Number 5 hardly ever gets mail, and never in my life have I seen such an elaborate envelope!” So he walked back to the house he had skipped and dropped the letter in the slot.
~
“Wake Up! Wake up!”, cried Lloyd, as he jumped on Tom. “It’s Saturday!”
“I know”, groaned Tom sleepily. “What about it?”
“It’s the beginning of Summer Hols!” Lloyd exclaimed, jumping up and running from the room. A while later Tom heard an exclamation issuing from Ernestine’s room. He did not bother to suppress a grin.
Tom Williams was the oldest child of Richard and Lilly Williams. He was fifteen; his younger brother Lloyd, was ten. He also had two younger sisters named Ernestine and Hattie. Ernestine was thirteen and Hattie was eight.
Tom peered over at the clock on his bedside table; it was nearing seven o’clock. He got out of bed and drowsily put on a green T-shirt and a pair of jeans. In Tom’s room, there was a small mirror over the relatively big dresser in the corner. He now approached this and with his reflection staring back at him he quickly combed down his black hair parting it in the middle, as was his habit.
When he opened the door of his bedroom the sweet aroma of butterscotch pancakes wafted up to him. With this scent in his nostrils, he took two steps at a time as he hurried down the stairs, for butterscotch pancakes were a favourite of his. Upon entering the kitchen, Tom saw Mrs. Williams standing by the stove flipping pancakes. His mum was a gourmet cook. Tom also saw Lloyd sitting down at the table greedily devouring three huge butterscotch pancakes drenched in syrup. Lloyd’s black hair was in a mess, as it usually was. His eyes, like Toms, were blue, and seemed to change colour to match what he was wearing. Lloyd cut a huge piece out of one of his pancakes and stuffed it into his mouth.
“Lloyd, take smaller bites,” Mrs. Williams said.
“Sorry Mum,” Lloyd mumbled, stuffing another bite of pancake into his mouth.
“Don’t ever wake me up like that again,” Tom said to Lloyd.
“If I hadn’t, I bet you would have slept through breakfast,” Lloyd replied.
However, before Tom could think of a good comeback, Hattie walked into the room. Her eyes had dark lines under them, signifying a late night, and her pink, horn-rimmed glasses were slipping down her nose, her long, brown hair hung in an untidy mess about her shoulders. Hattie was an avid reader, and was under the illusion that she knew more than she really did.
“Were you reading after hours again last night?” Mrs. Williams asked Hattie.
“Maybe,” Hattie replied, slowly pulling out a chair.
Lloyd looked up at Hattie, and then at his mother. “Mum, I just remembered, my Ghost Stories book is missing again.”
When Hattie heard him say that, her face turned red.
“Um, I have something to, um, do,” she then quickly turned and ran from the room.
Lloyd jumped up and ran after her, yelling “What did you do with it you little git?!”
Lloyd possessed a ghost story book consisting of 101 ghost stories. There was many a night when Lloyd woke up Tom with howls of fright due to a nightmare.
Ernestine entered the room, narrowly avoiding being run down by Lloyd. Soft brown curls framed her face as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She took a plate, and prepared her pancakes.
“Let me guess,” Tom said to her. “Lloyd woke you up too.”
“Bingo,” Ernestine replied. “Speaking of Lloyd, why is he chasing Hattie?”
“You’ve got one guess,” Tom replied.
“The ghost story book,” Ernestine said casually.
“Righto,” Tom replied.
“I hope she gets rid of it this time,” Ernestine said, pouring a ladle-full of syrup over her plate.
“You’re not the only one,” Tom agreed.
“Oh stop it you two,” Mrs. Williams said, smiling slightly.
“Dearest,” they heard Mr. Williams call. “There’s a letter for you.”
Mrs. Williams was curious. “I don’t usually get mail, this must be important.”
“I’ll go call Lloyd and Hattie to come and finish their breakfast,” Tom said. “It would be a shame to see these pancakes go to waste.”
Mrs. Williams left the room just as Lloyd returned holding a wet book titled “101 Ghost Stories” in one hand and an equally wet, ripped page in the other.
“Look at what she did!” Lloyd moaned plaintively. “She flushed it down the toilet.”
Tom had to suppress a laugh as Hattie walked in with a look of triumph on her face. Few people quarrelled more than Hattie and Lloyd.
“You two should finish your pancakes,” Tom said to them. “Or I’ll eat them for you.”
Therefore, Lloyd and Hattie sat down and finished breakfast.
“Tom,” Hattie said. “Where did mummy go?”
“Dad said she got something in the mail,” Tom said. “I wonder what it could possibly be,” he muttered as an afterthought.
In a short while, Mr. and Mrs. Williams walked into the kitchen. Mr. Williams looked concerned as he brushed his hand through his brown hair. Mrs. Williams was holding a red, ornately decorated envelope in her hand. She had tears in her pale green eyes, and her hands were shaking. She brushed her black hair out of her face.
“Can I have everyone’s attention, please?” She asked, with a break in her voice. “I just received an important letter in the mail. It has informed me that my Aunt Mildred has just died. Now, some—”
“Who?!” Lloyd interrupted.
“Your Great-Aunt Mildred was my mother’s elder sister.”
Ernestine piped in,” I didn’t know that you had an Aunt Mildred, why haven’t we ever heard of her?”
“Her husband died in the war and when my own mother died, shortly after that she became a recluse. It was as if she had disappeared for we never had an address for her. Apparently, she died last week of pneumonia. We’ve received a letter from her solicitors who want us present at the funeral.”
“Where will the funeral take place?” Tom asked.
“Behind the family estate, in Greenock.”
The family estate was an old mansion that had belonged to their great-great-great grandfather Archibald Loredaen. When he died, he’d left the house to his daughter, Gertrude Loredaen, but she was so distressed about her father’s death that she moved out and left the estate to the family as a place to stay.
“Why would her solicitors want us at the funeral?” Tom asked. “We didn’t even know who she was.”
“We don’t know,” Mr. Williams said.
“Now, your father and I have decided that it should be your choice if we all go or not,” Mrs. Williams went on. “For we realize it’s the beginning of your summer holidays and you have never knew your great-aunt Mildred.”
There was a long silence as the four siblings thought it over. Finally, Tom said, “I would love to go to the funeral, though I don’t think it a joyful event.”
“I’d like to go as well,” added Ernestine. “I’m eager to get a look at the family estate.”
“Ooooooh! I want to go too. It sounds exciting!” said Hattie.
“Oh, great,” grumbled Lloyd to himself. “Not an ideal start to my summer hol’s.”
“Well, it looks like that’s decided,” Mr. Williams said cheerfully, straitening his glasses.
“When do we plan to leave?” Ernestine asked.
“The funeral is on the sixteenth,” Mrs. Williams said. “So we will leave early on Monday.”
“Tomorrow we’ll pack,” Mr. Williams added.
“Won’t it cost a lot, for gas and such?” Lloyd asked. For he thought this would be a perfect excuse to stay home.
“Lloyd, do you even know where Greenock is?” Hattie asked mockingly. “It couldn’t be more than five hours away.”
“Oh, bother,” Lloyd muttered under his breath.