i'm sorry people, but mr computer is being very difficult at the moment and not allowing me to seperate the segments. Not even typing random letters divides the sections!
Any suggestions as to how to fix this matter would be greatly appreciated as I am getting myself all worked up which isn't very nice.
hope you like the story. This is my first fic. I know it's slow at the start but believe me, soon things will be flying!

The journey to England was bumpy; it was my first time being on a boat...and the last if I have my way. Upon arriving at Portsmouth we had to take many trains and carriages to get to Carlisle, stopping and resting at various other cities and towns.
It's a good thing that Raoul and Thomas not only are rich but are gentlemen, for me and Meg could never have been able to afford all the expenses of travel and hotels.
We arrived in Carlisle late afternoon over a week long trip. The limited shops and markets in the town were shutting, and the church bells chimed their evening call.
From what I saw by the carriage window it seemed a secluded town for the amount of people and shops that were about.
Could my father really have lived here? Could my family history lie in these cobbled streets and brick walls?

It is now late into the night; the street lights have been distinguished, allowing the full moon to prompt its light upon the town. Viewing this spectacle gives me comfort. I no longer feel alone standing on the balcony in my nightgown below the night's sky. The moon is my companion; in reality and in my dreams.
To me the moon, rather than the sun, symbolises light; it is the beacon in the dark, it let's us know that it's there to watch over us while we dream.

Last night I dreamt I was running in a castle with a woman, who had pink hair shaped into bob, her name is Dora. It was a fun dream, I enjoy being in that woman's company. We care for one another.
Tonight I shall be playing a competitive game of chess with a butler of the castle named Joseph (to which he shall beat me), and then tomorrow I shall be reunited with Erik.

Is it a sin to secretly yearn for the man you are about to marry to be more like the man of your dreams?

Stop moaning Christine, you are very lucky to be engaged to Raoul, a person of his status would never normally be with a girl that has nothing. Be like Meg, squeal with giddiness of the luck! If it wasn't for Raoul I wouldn't be standing on this balcony would I?
I slump over the metal wall, my sight barely registering the dark streets. My head leaning lazily on my hand, I catch a figure standing infront the hotel, looking up.
It seems to be staring at something, squinting my eyes to get a better view, I see that the person is looking at my direction-
"Christine!" I jolt my head from the shock and I catch sight of the twisting doorknob, "Oh good your awake!" said Meg, barging in without inspection. "Could you plait my hair for me? You're better at it than I am! Christine? Christine what are you doing standing out there, its freezing!"

Automatically, without looking back, I re-enter my room shutting the doors behind me, along with shutting the absurd thought that I believed I saw a pair of familiar blue eyes.


Bruno blasted into his parents room and slammed against his mothers bedside drawer. He flew the drawer open and started rummaging manically inside.
"Bruno!" shrieked Dora, stomping into the bedroom her hands on hips, "Where have you been? How dare you run off in the middle of night! How many times do I have to tell you not to go off on your own! Wait til your father get's here, he and your uncle have been searching all over for you!"

Bruno was barely listening; his sallow hands still searching rapidly at every object in the drawer.
"Look at me when I am talking to you!" demanded Dora.
"Mum where's your wedding photo?"
"What?"
"Your wedding photo, I need to see it."
Dora narrowed her eyes in suspicion at his sudden curiosity on her wedding day, but gave her son an answer, "It's in a white envelope in that drawer you're messing up. Why, what are you up too?"
For such a small drawer his mother sure had alot of items.
Broken bracelets, dead watches, and empty perfume bottles; all, too Bruno, complete rubbish.
At last he found the white envelope; yanking it out he opened it to retrieve the photo.
"Don't bend or smudge it!" snapped Dora; her stare still curious.

He saw his uncle standing to the right of his father as his part of best man...His father linking arms proudly with his mother; the beautiful bride...and the maid of honour standing to the left of Dora carrying a bouquet of pink daisies; each person portraying cheerful, happy faces.
"It was her..." Bruno whispered in awe; his blue eyes transfixed on the Maid Of Honour.
"What was her?" asked Dora blankly. "Bruno what is going on? You run past me and the staff in the hallway, charge into my room to wreck my stuff, and randomly ask for my wedding photo, all without any word of explanation! And don't get me started on you not explaining yourself on your whereabouts as well as not apologising-"
"I saw her mum, I saw Christine!"

Those last three words knocked Dora's temper and mind right off. Sharpness probed her frozen heart at the mention of that name.

"It was in Carlisle, she was standing in a hotel balcony. At first I wasn't sure, but the moon displayed her face and there she was! She's alive mum!"

The door burst open again; Dominic striding in a mixture of annoyance and relief when told his son has returned from his night-time wonderings,
"Bruno Bennett, you know full well you are not allowed out in the middle of the night alone! Not only are you risking your life, you are also risking everyone else's. Guards, myself and your uncle where searching for you and-"
Dominic stopped his lecture upon registering his son's and wife's expressions. Both were stunned, but his wife was shaken.

"What's wrong? What's happened?"
"Christine dad!" Bruno exclaimed, running towards him, "I've found Aunt Christine! She's alive in the town of Carlisle!"
Dominic become stoic; darting his eyes between Bruno and Dora.
"I wasn't sure at first, that's why I had to look at the wedding photo to double check, and it's definitely her dad! Though her skin has more colour..."
"Bruno," Dominic called hoarsely when he found his voice, "Your Aunt Christine died a long time ago-"
"But it's her dad! I know it is!" Bruno cried adamantly.

Soundlessly, Dora sat at the end of her bed; gazing into nothing, feeling nothing.

"Uncle Erik will believe me," stated Bruno and he made to leave the room; Dominic however, stopped him.
"Enough Bruno," Dominic's once quiet tone now had an edge to it.
"I'm not lying!"
"But it can't be true either." said Dominic, "It must've been the trick of the light."
"There was no light to cause a trick!" offended by his dad's comment. "I didn't imagine it dad, it was Aunt Christine standing on that balcony looking at the moon."
"The moon?" Dora repeated in a whisper, her wide eyes finally landing back to Bruno.
Bruno nodded, "She must've sensed my presence for she saw me, but only briefly. Someone called to her from her room."
"And the person that called to her said the name Christine?" asked Dora, still in a whisper.
"Yes!"
Dora turned to Dominic, "I have to check it out." She stood up.
"Dora," Dominic came to stand infront of Dora, "I know you miss her still, but think about this, it can't be possible!"
"Maybe, but I have to see for myself. Bruno is so adamant, what's the harm in checking?"

Dominic's sympathy swam for his wife upon seeing her glimmer of hope, "That you will become disappointed. If Erik caught wind of this-"
"He would want it checked on too." Dora ended. "Tell him if you must, but compare his disappointment to mine; which shall be worse?"
Dominic stared diligently to his wife. They both know the answer, Bruno even knew the answer. Erik would be right back to the night Christine died if he raised any hope, and that period is unspeakable. It's only since the arrival of Bruno that Erik has tried to get his life back in some kind of order, though it can never be the same.
Four hundred years without Christine...four hundred years without that happiness she constantly gave him...it's been pure misery.

"Go then," said Dominic, "And make it quick. Perhaps if it's false the woman on the balcony can be useful for other things like our appetite."

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

"Meg, do you ever feel like you are being watched?"
"Sometimes, but why not? I'm young, pretty and tantalising, it's only normal!" Meg giggled.
"I'm being serious Meg; I think I'm being followed."
I look round the shoulder for the hundredth time and still I cannot find those eyes that have been haunting me since that night on the balcony.
"Perhaps an admirer." shrugged Meg, eyeing a hat in a shop window, "You think maroon would suit me?"
"Meg! Can you for once stop thinking about yourself and help me?"
"Stop getting your bloomers in a twist!" Meg laughed, "There's nothing to worry about. So you've gained an admirer? Count yourself fortunate, we've only been in the town for three days."
"Yes," I hiss, "Three days of me constantly looking over my shoulder!"
Meg sighed exasperatedly then said shooting her eyes back to me, "You know what it is Christine? Stress simple as that. Stress at not yet finding anything about your father, and possibly irritation at Raoul for not allowing us to help him with his research."

Meg has a point. Raoul has been going to all these libraries and government buildings, all to gain some sort of knowledge on my father, yet he won't let the daughter join him.
"I don't want to see the disappointment in your eyes, its best if I carry the burden."
He's being considerate, but it's my burden to bear, not his. Plus, I feel like I should be doing this investigation, he was my father. Raoul still hasn't gone to the address that was found with my father's records. He wants to find out more on the building, turns out new tenants seem to be residing there.
Meg is right, its stress that's making me feel jumpy.
"Sorry Meg," I mumble in shame.
Meg gives me a one arm hug, "It's alright Chris, now about that maroon hat..."

We window shop for another half an hour, though that's mainly all we've done since we arrived here, we can never tire of the shops. Here the items are reasonably priced, nothing overly expensive. Meg has already bought herself four dresses, two bonnets and a pair of evening gloves (with the financial help of Thomas of course).
I haven't bought myself anything, not because I haven't found anything, but because I don't like the feeling of Raoul purchasing my belongings, as if he owns me when we're not even married yet.
But yet Christine you allow him to buy your travel, accommodation costs and food costs... oh, I really am some sort of twisted hypocrite!

"Even if we find out nothing Christine, Carlisle is really starting to grow on me." said Meg serenely.
I can't help but agree, smiling. "Same as I Meg; there's something very unique about here."
"The city of Paris of course has its flamboyant charm, but here in the town of Carlisle it's completely opposite. It's like it's planted in the middle of nowhere, yet it holds such a grand town and look there," Meg pointed towards an alleyway, "A forest! Right at the end of an alleyway, random or what?"
A shiver runs through me as I gaze at the bent, thick trees. Though this sun is up, and it's just turned mid afternoon, the forest appears dark and dreary. Dear knows what creatures live in that land.

"Excuse me," a boy suddenly pushes between me and Meg; he was heading towards the mysterious forest.
"Where are you going?" called Meg, she too thinking the same as I.
The boy stopped and turned, and it hit me like a bolt of lightening. The blue eyes; that boy was who I saw from my balcony! For a wild thought I believed I saw Erik's eyes for they are blue also, crazy I know!
Like the boys his eyes have that shade, but the boys are different; they have flecks of hazel in them. He has a young pale face; he mustn't be any older than ten. Light brown hair that blends nicely to his eyes and skin. He is wearing brown knee length shorts, displaying his pale skinny legs, and a thick black coat. His clothes have a certain style, like they have been perfectly made.
The boy grinned impishly as he responded to Meg's call, "Home."
"Home?" questioned Meg, "Surely it's not in the forest?"
The boy nodded, "Yeah, right at the bottom infact."
"There's a house buried deep in the forest?" I say in wonder and disbelief.
His blue eyes sparkled as they connected to me, his grin turning into a smile, "Not a house, a castle."
"A castle?" I laugh in disbelief.
The boy too laughed. "You two aren't from here are you?"
"No, we're from Paris." said Meg.
"But you," he said looking directly at me, "You don't have a French accent."
"No," I agreed, my smile now wavering from his quick observation.
"We're here to find out why," said Meg, "We believe that her father came from around here."
"Your father?" the boy repeated; his impish mood gone, now utterly perplexed.
"Yes but we will spare you the details." I said, shooting narrow eyes to Meg at her flippancy. Seriously what is he playing at? Telling a small boy, a stranger, about us being here! Like he would understand!
"Maybe I could help," suggested the boy, now sounding interested, eager.
"Thanks," I say smiling, touched by his politeness, "but we're ok thanks. My fiancé is currently doing some research on him."
"Whereas mine is gambling!" added Meg brightly.
The boy's eyes widened upon hearing the word 'fiancé',
"Oh, well if you need anything you know where I live." And with that he abruptly turned and darted into the gloomy forest.

"That was weird..." I stated curiously, his figure promptly disappearing into the darkness.
"Perhaps he thought his luck was in until you mentioned Raoul." Meg laughed.
I playfully hit Meg on the arm. "Do you really think there's a castle in there?" I ask.
"It's possible, if so then the kid must be from some royalty. Come on, that maroon hat is tormenting me."
My feet took me to where Meg wanted me to go...but my mind, my mind was buzzing about that little boy. I never meet him in reality, and neither did I in my dreams. But his eyes; they weren't Erik's, yet that sense of familiarity never left me.