A Gothic Lesson in Love Page 2

  Unsettled, she decided it was time to vacate the premise. Placing distance between herself and the cottage she could not help but feel that she was being watched. It was at that very moment that she remembered Francis, the benevolent woman who had given her a ride into town the day before, warning her about the place. Andrew Maurice Seabreeze was the property owner’s name, she had been told. And she was quick to note how mysterious a man this Seabreeze fellah was. No one had ever seen him in public nor knew what he looked like. He never left the property. It was even rumored that he was a murderer or thief who had served his time and paid his debt to society and had decided to live out the remainder of his life as a recluse.

  “Some even say he keeps bodies parts of those he murdered inside,” Francis had said, voicing an already well-established speculation.

  “Then how does he get food and supplies if he never leaves the property?” Irene remembered asking Francis as they drove. It was an astute observation Sherlock Holmes would certainly be proud of.

  “They say the grocery store delivery man comes there once a week with provisions, but never staying more than it took to offload his cargo,” she remembered the kind woman saying. “But be warned young lass, yah git yah bike tomorrow and yah arse out of there and never again step foot on that cursed property. Yah hear me!”

  Irene nodded, with a growing concern for the safety of her scooter.

  Chapter 2

  Irene shared her morning experience with her aunt over dinner who immediately recoiled in her chair after hearing the name Andrew Seabreeze brought up.

  “You were at the Seabreeze residence?” she asked in disbelief. “Honey, I did not know that was the place you ran out of gas.”

  “God, what’s with this Seabreeze guy, anyway?” Irene wanted desperately to know.

  “Well, your good Samaritan friend was right,” her aunt began. “The place is creepy and no one has ever seen this man in public. Now whether or not he has killed anyone that I do not know for certain.”

  “Look, he can’t be too bad a person if he was kind enough to leave a can of gas for me to use,” Irene reasoned aloud.

  “Well, you actually have a point there,” Audrey said as she placed a cup of chilled lemonade to her lips and swallowed. “Nevertheless, you have no further reason to go back there Irene. You returned the gas container, now perhaps you should leave it at that.”

  “I don’t know why I think this but perhaps everyone is wrong about this man being a murderer. Just perhaps. But you’re probably right about me letting things be,” Irene demurred in an effort to assuage her aunt.

  “You know your aunt’s right,” Audrey smiled. “And speaking of loveliness, which happens to be the complimentary opposite of handsomeness, I have a wonderful young man I would like to introduce to you this upcoming weekend. His name is Morris Dyer. He comes from a good background. He’s handsome, well-educated, and athletic. And he’s around your age. Anyway, before I introduce him to you I’m going to take you shopping so that we can get you into something more appealing than what you’re used to wearing, okay?”

  Irene smiled half-heartedly and mouthed the word, “Sure, auntie.”

  “Just think of it as another church outing, sweetie,” Audrey added getting up from the table then paused. “Look, I’m not playing matchmaker. Honestly, I’m not. I just want you to meet an interesting young man. Who knows? You just might take on a new friend.”

  “You know, I just may. I’m not averse to making new friends,” Irene assured her aunt.

  “Good. Then it’s settled.”

  It was Irene’s second visit to the bustling city of London since her arrival at Heathrow International Airport a week earlier. Along with her aunt they frequented several fashion boutiques and hat shops. After several failed attempts, and a couple of, “I don’t know about this, auntie,” in picking out a contemporary dinner dress, something more form fitting than what Irene was accustomed to wearing, she gave into her aunt’s well placed intentions and selected a short blue dress with a hemline that stopped inches above her knees. It appeared to Irene, who was modest in every sense of the word, that the dress was tailored more to entice rather than to appeal.

  Later, the two women visited a well-known beauty salon to have their hair shampooed and styled. Once there Irene backed out of getting hers done. She was content with wearing her shoulder length dark brown hair in a ponytail. She did agree to a pedicure, however.

  Gazing into the wall length mirror, Aunt Audrey smiled, delighting in the finished product. Prim and proper, like a noble English woman, she looked and felt like royalty. Of course, she was disappointed that her niece had decided against getting pampered. But she felt she still had all summer to work on her.

  Afterwards, they had a late lunch and indulging conversation.

  “This city is so amazing,” Irene beamed looking about her.

  “Yes, it is,” her aunt agreed. “Wait until I show you Big Ben and the London Tower Bridge and Buckingham Palace.”

  “Auntie, I can’t wait to visit all of those places,” Irene said, her eyes wide and her voice full of excitement. “I have never been anywhere this exciting and interesting outside of Virginia Beach and Washington DC.”

  “Well, there’s an amazing world out here for you to see and enjoy. Your Uncle Ron and I traveled all over Europe. I’m talking France, Italy, Sweden, Portugal, Austria, and Spain. I was like a school girl on a never-ending prom night back in those early days of my marriage. It was all so fascinating.”

  “What ever happened between you and Uncle Ron, if I may ask?”

  “Life for us just stopped being a big whirlwind of travel, fun, and excitement. We allowed events, and sometimes others, to get in the way of what we once had. Before we knew it, we had grown apart. By then, we both realized the honeymoon was over. But it was fun for about three years of the five years we were married.”

  “That sounds so sad,” Irene came back, as she took another sip of strawberry milkshake.

  “Hey, it’s all a part of life and growing up, my dear.”

  “And what about Uncle Samuel?” Irene asked.

  “Your Uncle Sammy?” Aunt Audrey murmured. “I tell you, that man swept me off of my feet before I could tell him what my name was. Talk about love at first sight. Your uncle was one of the most charming and most considerate and romantic men you’d ever want to know or meet.”

  “So, what happened?” Irene chuckled as she grabbed her aunt’s arm to urge her on.

  “Well, over time your uncle became very possessive of me,” she began. “He wanted to know why I had to work late at times, who brought me home, and who was on the phone with me. If I dressed up too much for his liking, he’d think that I had a rendezvous planned with some guy I had supposedly met. It got so intolerable I had to move out of our home. But I had no regrets about leaving him or divorcing him. Now, let’s stop talking about my rollercoaster love life and talk about yours. Besides, we’re going to have to walk around pretty soon just to work that milkshake off.”

  Irene smiled before settling into a more serious look, saying, “I don’t have a love life?”

  “And why is that?”

  “Well, for one thing, I have been focused on my career goals. Other than that, I haven’t found the right guy.”

  “Just out of curiosity, have you ever been in love before?”

  Irene swallowed as she seemed to contemplate a response.

  “Well, come on, tell me now that I told you all about my fantastic love life,” her aunt teased.

  Irene chuckled.

  “I thought I was in love one time,” she began thoughtfully.

  “Well, what happened?”

  “It didn’t work out.”

  “What happened?”

  “I don’t know, but it just did not work out.”

  “I can see this is something you’d rather not talk about.”

  “No, not really. Please don’t take it personally, auntie.”

  “I und
erstand. Anyway, thank God there’s a lot more fish out there in the sea,” her aunt said after a pause.

  “I know. That’s why I’m waiting on the Lord to find me that special guy.”

  Audrey listened but said nothing. This was going to take a lot more work than she had originally anticipated, she concluded. One of the first lessons her niece would have to learn was that the good Lord helped those who helped themselves. This was a lesson she knew well. A woman who did not hesitate to go after what she wanted, she had made a career of it.

  After a brief effervescent chat with her mother Judy back in the states, Irene grabbed her blue handbag and after a quick critique in the full-length hall mirror, caught up to her aunt who was exiting the door now that their ride had pulled up to the front of the house. In the land of Kings and Queens, this was the night she would meet England’s version of “Prince Charming”.

  In her aunt’s eyes, this was the night her niece’s life was to take a turn for the better. This was the night they had all been waiting for, especially Irene’s mother.

  Irene did not see this in the same light. But she had decided to be cordial and friendly just the same. She had reasoned earlier on in life that there was no harm in making new friends. Tonight would be no exception.

  Twenty minutes into the ride, she could not help but peer out of the window when they passed the infamous Seabreeze residence. Under the bright full moon, the place looked even more haunting. Nighttime was usually the setting haunted houses looked their most haunting. Sitting back she returned to her thoughts.

  When they arrived at the village and restaurant where they were to have dinner with Morris Dyer, the chauffeur dropped them off, asked what time they wanted to be picked up, then took off in the silver Benz.

  Morris appeared wearing the brightest of smiles. Unchaperoned, he was as tall and as handsome as her aunt had claimed he was. He wore a dark brown suit, light brown shirt, dark brown shoes, and a dark brown tie. The widening of his eyes, once he had picked Irene and her aunt out in the crowd, told her that he found her pleasing to the eye.

  Irene and her aunt stood up to greet him.

  His grip was firm, his cologne mild and appealing to her senses. Perhaps he found her perfumed body just as agreeable, she thought. It was a rare occasion she wore such scents.

  He joined them as they sat down.

  After sharing a delicious oven-roasted lamb dinner, complimented by a serving of roasted potatoes, carrots, peas, and white pearl onions, seasoned lightly, and a few well-placed nondescript tidbits about her niece, in an effort to advance their struggling conversation, Audrey excused herself from the table to join friends seated at the bar, giving the young couple their space. From this point on it was up to them to either soar like eagles or fall like a pile of bricks, she told herself.

  “So, how has your visit been so far?” he asked, his British accent gentle on her ears.

  “I’m enjoying myself,” she answered as she returned his gaze.

  “Been over to Aylesbury, yet?”

  “No, but I heard of it.”

  “I’d like to take you there one afternoon, if that is alright with you.”

  “What’s there?” she asked stirring what was left of her drink with a straw.

  “Though it’s a quaint little market town, it has numerous stores and apparel shops and several eateries with menus that are easy on the stomach,” he answered.

  “And just what do they do for entertainment in Aylesbury?” she probed a little deeper.

  “There are folk singers, musicians, and mimes that entertain on the open streets, and there are several pubs and one very popular nightclub,” he replied with a prolonged gaze. “You like to dance?”

  “I’ve never been to a nightclub before or been dancing, that is outside of playing around at home with my sister Margo,” she confessed with a blush.

  “Well, I guess we’ll have to do something about that,” he teased, then as an afterthought, recoiled with, “Hey, your auntie told me that you were prom queen. Did you not cut a rug that night, a queen as beautiful as yourself?”

  “Cut a rug?”

  “Dance is what I mean, lass.”

  “Oh, I danced once with the prom king. That was the extent of it.”

  Morris shrugged, saying, “I don’t know. But if I were the prom king I would not have let you leave my arms so easily.”

  “Is that so,” Irene said with a smile, but the smile was unsure.

  “Yes, I’m sure,” he nodded confidently.

  “So what do you do, career-wise, Morris?” she asked, turning interviewer in an effort to redirect the topic and the focus from her.

  “I work with my uncle who is a locksmith in Aylesbury.”

  “Is it something you like doing?”

  “Allow me to put it this way, it helps keep gas in my car,” he chuckled. “But a lifetime career of it, I don’t think so. I want to go to school and study to become a radiologist.”

  “That sounds exciting,” Irene said, opening up and placing a soft chocolate mint to her mouth. “I imagine my aunt told you that I studied to become a registered nurse.”

  “Yes, your auntie did.

  “Did she also tell you that I was a philosophy major, as well, just so that I could be more employable?”

  “No, she didn’t,” he quipped. “Do you like the field of nursing or philosophy more?”

  Without hesitating she said, “I love nursing but I am in love with philosophy. I hope to return to both as soon as I return to the States at the end of the summer.”

  “Excuse me. I’m sorry to break up this singles convention but our ride has returned,” Audrey said, placing her hand on her niece’s shoulder.

  Collecting her purse, Irene stood up. Morris stood up as well, wondering where the time had gone.

  Irene thanked him for a pleasant evening and conversation and turned to leave.

  “Hope we get to give it a go again,” he said with a toothy smile.

  “Sure,” she said smiling.

  “Hopefully soon, Irene,” he added.

  She answered with another smile before she and her aunt made their way towards the exit.

  During the ride back Aunt Audrey insisted on hearing every detail of Irene’s and Morris’ time together and every word exchanged between them in an effort to gauge whether or not the two had warmed up to one another. Though Irene did not afford her aunt much to go on, Aunt Audrey remained hopeful that the two would at least meet once again.

  The following morning Irene went to the entrance of the house to retrieve the daily newspaper and a metal crate containing several bottles of chilled orange juice and grape juice and apple cider and a gallon of milk, left by the dairyman twice weekly. For breakfast she cooked scrambled eggs and bacon, along with a sausage link and a buttermilk biscuit. The aroma permeated the air.

  Strawberry preserves and butter went on the biscuit before she poured herself a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice and began to consume her meal. Though she was vacationing in England, she was still a country girl at heart when it came to breakfast food.

  Afterwards, she brushed and combed her hair and did a load of laundry.

  Much later she planned on exploring another new town; perhaps even purchase a few items and souvenirs. That was her ultimate goal; to visit a new town every week. As she had told her mother on the phone, she had plenty of places to go and plenty of things to see.

  After lunch, she read the local newspaper that had been dropped off in front of the door of the house by a young newspaper delivery boy earlier. The headline was about a possible trip to Ireland by President John F. Kennedy scheduled for 1963, the following year. The president’s ancestors hailed from Ireland and it would be the young president’s first visit ever to his ancestral home and the first visit for any United States President. As part of his European tour, he would spend four days in Ireland, visiting Dublin, Wexford, Cork, Galway and Limerick.

  After reading the comic section she put th
e paper down, gathered what she needed, and headed out.

  The afternoon skies outside of Asbury Point remained overcast, gray skies threatening to turn black, and those walking or riding about on scooters running the risk of encountering gusty winds and potential rain. Torrential rains, at that. But this did not deter Irene, who was cruising towards Wayne Brier on her scooter. As a precaution she had put on a swimming skull cap and wore a rain-proof poncho with a hood to protect against any rain she might encounter. Still, she figured she could make the trek to the village before the storm set in. She had figured wrong.

  Chapter 3

  It felt like miniature razor blades slicing across her face, the heavy downpour that came at her sideways and with a fury. It was as though someone had decided to turn on a switch just to spite her. Still, Irene forged onward. Rounding a curve she charged her scooter up the hill as the rain continued to batter her mercilessly. Though her well-covered hair remained dry, her face was dripping wet and her vision partially impaired.

  Suddenly a large creature dashed in front of her. It was an unapologetic dog. In a dire effort to avoid hitting the animal she swerved abruptly but lost control.

  It happened so fast, the dog, the braking, the scooter sliding out of control on the wet road. Her whirlwind ride came to an abrupt end after her scooter hit the curb tossing her into the air and onto a soft patch of grass near a mailbox. She was shaken up and a little sore, but from what she could ascertain, she was not injured.

  Muddied and wet, she sat up and read the name on the mailbox. Her eyes widened in disbelief. It read Seabreeze. Turning her head quickly towards the property she confirmed what she already knew. It did not escape her that this was the second time she had wound up at this eerie place as a result of an incident related to her scooter. Creepy it all seemed. And just as creepy, it had stopped raining, though there was still thunder that rumbled in the distance and lightning.