*~*~*~*~*~*
Lara sat at her desk, filling out forms and paying bills. Of all the things she could've done this afternoon, bill paying was the most boring.
The Hawkins' had sort of pressured Lara into having them for dinner tomorrow night, so Hilly was preparing some samples to test feed Bryce and Lara for dinner. Bryce was looking up some information on the Swords she was planning to find.
Lara placed the last envelope in her 'out' tray and stood up. A large crate had come for her that day and she needed to free up space in the attic. It was cluttered enough.
"Lara? Have you finished paying bills?" Hilly stepped out of the kitchen.
Lara nodded. "I'mgoing to unpack that crate that arrived today - the attic is full up."
Hillary nodded. "I'll send Bryce when dinner is served."
Lara pocketed a packet of matches and went up to the attic in the West Tower. She opened the door and was suddenly amazed at the amount of *stuff* crammed into the room.
Lara rarely came up to the attic - she was a busy girl and didn't really have time to fiddle around with old bits and pieces. Hillary had told her there was a small fortune of stuff up here and had insisted she sort it out - especially since she had received some more stuff that day.
Striking a match and lighting a lantern (the electricity had never worked in this tower) and she opened her new crate. Five paintings she had recently aquired and an old Italian jewelry box. She was selling all except the box.
*The crate would be useful to store the things in those old boxes,* Lara thought. The old cardboard boxes in question held her old school things, old toys, photo albums and her mother's belongings. The tower had had leaks the previous winter and most of the boxes were crumbling and almost tuck to the floor. The labels had been written in her father's purple inked fountain pen, her absolute favourite pen. It was in her office drawn, snug in a silver case. But the ink had smeared and left marks over the cardboard, floor and walls.
*Better to start with the oldest stuff - it's been up here here the longest,* Lara thought, pulling out her pocket knife and ripping into it. The tape holding the box together crumbled away and Lara was left looking at old dresses.
Shaking one out, Lara realized it was her mother's wedding dress; it was all white lace, off the shoulder with long sleeves. It deeply reminded Lara of a body bag. Peering into the box, she found a photo album and a choker - black, set with three fake crystals.
Folding the old dress back into the box, Lara opened the album. The first photo showed her mother and father on their wedding day. A shiny black car stood nearby, decorated with white roses and satin ribbons. Her mother's dark brown hair was curled and piled up on her head. Her father was smiling and waving at the camera.
Underneath it was written, 'Gabriella Winters, born on the 5th Day of June, 1948. Married on 19th Day of March, 1973. I am officially Lady Gabriella Croft.'
Lara pulled the lantern closer and had a quick flip through it. Recipes, poems, newspaper cuttings and photos were all stuck in the book. *Sort of like a diary,* Lara thought. She had kept a diary once - for an entire week, when she was 19. Now, she had a journal of her expeditions.
'I have a perfectly good diary, my grandmother bought it for me as a wedding gift. Mum said she was eccentric in her ways and mad to give me a diary. A lovely necklace or money, but not a notepad. So my album will tell the stories behind the pictures. Love, 'Ella.'
Lara gazed at the photo. Her mother, looking very similar to herself, sitting on the front bench of Croft Manor. Wearing a white sundress, with her hair out, she looked very happy. But very thin.
The next page was dated '7th Day of November, 1974,' - Lara's birthday. No pictures, just a newspaper clipping and Lara's mother's note.
'My baby Lara has been born. She's beautiful. Mother cannot come to the hospital - more in my diary.'
Lara flipped through the next pages - recipes, poems and photos of her Aunty Florance, a person Lara had never met.
Then, Lara realized that the album was almost over - only five more pages were filled.
'Lara turns 3 to day. Mr Wilson is developing the photographs as we speak - write.'
'Lara has been sent to stay with my mother - I am too ill to care for her.'
'Lara's 4th birthday to-day.'
That was it. It ended there. None of the photos mentioned on her third birthday were there. No last message for her daughter. Lara felt an over whelming sense of sadness over take her. She had never really mourned her mother's passing; she had never known 'Gabriella Croft,' only her beloved father.
Lara put the album on the dresser and moved to another cardboard box. Just as faded as the last, Lara ripped into it. Clothes and a few battered novels. The next box contained Lara's old school books and summer clothes. Then Lara stopped. Why all of a sudden was her mother so important? Lara was 26, almost 27, and her mother had barely ever counted in her life after her father died.
Her mother's family were not there. She had never known Aunt Florance or her Grandmother Danielle. From what she had been told by Mr Wilson, 'Flora' and 'Danielle' were only interested in money. Both were currently living in France, where the lifestyle suited them.
"Lara!" Bryce. Calling her for dinner. Lara sat the album on an ancient dresser, with only three and a half legs. Blowing out the lantern, Lara went down to dinner.
Hillary had managed to whip up a homemade pizza, some sort of quiche, salmon with brie and curry on little rice crackers.
"This is bee-oo-ti-ful!" Bryce cried, filling his plate up with the 'samples'. "Is this what you'll be serving tomorrow night?"
"Yes. But I have brought out some of my chocolate and raspberry ice cream, because Lara, you seem depressed," Hilly raised his eyebrows.
"I was 'cleaning out the attic and I found my mother's album," Lara said. "Do you know where her diary is? She kept refering to it."
Hillary passed Bryce the pizza. "Lady Gabriella's diaries were boxed up and burnt the day before your father left for his last expedition,"he said solomnly. "I understand that he wrote a letter explaining why, but I've never seen hide nor hair of it, Lara."
Lara licked the brie off her fingers. "Why? Did my mother know something special?"
Hillary looked uncomfortable. "You do know about how she died?"
Lara shrugged. "Sickness. I honestly don't remember her. Daddy always told me that it was because I stayed with Aunt Liate a lot when Gabrielle was dying. Cancer, I expect."
Lara knew if herfatherhad heard her refer to her mother as Gabriella, it would have broken his heart.
"That's right, Lara. She died just after your fourth birthday. She was living in a hospital by then and you didn't know her. She was hospitalized when you were three," Hillary sipped his tea.
"Excuse me!" Bryce raised his hand. "How do you know all this? You wouldn't have been working here."
Lara laughed. "Hilly's father worked for my father. And Hilly did garden work back then."
Lara heard the doorbell chime. Hilly stood up and went to get it.
"Hey Lara," Bryce turned to her. "You now how your father made a secret letter for you about the All Seeing Eye - maybe your mother's diaries are hidden like that!"
Before Lara could reply, Hilly walked in and handed Lara a bouquet of yellow roses. Opening the card, she frowned.
'To Lara, Love Alex.'
"Bastard," Lara spat, dumping the flowers in a vase. She tore the card in two and tossed it into the heater.
"Alex?" Bryce asked, his mouth full of curry.
"Mmm. Hillary, why did Daddy burn her diaries?" Lara asked.
"No reasons were given, Lara. He just told Mr Wilson to fetch Gabriella's diaries and destory them. He never read them. Mr Wilson told me all this, before he retired to Boothby's."
Lara tapped her cheek. Why had her father destroyed her direct link to her mother? He used to always tell her how much he wished Lara could remember her.
"My mother didn't know of the Illuminati... but why?" Lara sighed. "I'm going to have a bath, Hilly. I'll have dessert later."
Lara sat at her desk, filling out forms and paying bills. Of all the things she could've done this afternoon, bill paying was the most boring.
The Hawkins' had sort of pressured Lara into having them for dinner tomorrow night, so Hilly was preparing some samples to test feed Bryce and Lara for dinner. Bryce was looking up some information on the Swords she was planning to find.
Lara placed the last envelope in her 'out' tray and stood up. A large crate had come for her that day and she needed to free up space in the attic. It was cluttered enough.
"Lara? Have you finished paying bills?" Hilly stepped out of the kitchen.
Lara nodded. "I'mgoing to unpack that crate that arrived today - the attic is full up."
Hillary nodded. "I'll send Bryce when dinner is served."
Lara pocketed a packet of matches and went up to the attic in the West Tower. She opened the door and was suddenly amazed at the amount of *stuff* crammed into the room.
Lara rarely came up to the attic - she was a busy girl and didn't really have time to fiddle around with old bits and pieces. Hillary had told her there was a small fortune of stuff up here and had insisted she sort it out - especially since she had received some more stuff that day.
Striking a match and lighting a lantern (the electricity had never worked in this tower) and she opened her new crate. Five paintings she had recently aquired and an old Italian jewelry box. She was selling all except the box.
*The crate would be useful to store the things in those old boxes,* Lara thought. The old cardboard boxes in question held her old school things, old toys, photo albums and her mother's belongings. The tower had had leaks the previous winter and most of the boxes were crumbling and almost tuck to the floor. The labels had been written in her father's purple inked fountain pen, her absolute favourite pen. It was in her office drawn, snug in a silver case. But the ink had smeared and left marks over the cardboard, floor and walls.
*Better to start with the oldest stuff - it's been up here here the longest,* Lara thought, pulling out her pocket knife and ripping into it. The tape holding the box together crumbled away and Lara was left looking at old dresses.
Shaking one out, Lara realized it was her mother's wedding dress; it was all white lace, off the shoulder with long sleeves. It deeply reminded Lara of a body bag. Peering into the box, she found a photo album and a choker - black, set with three fake crystals.
Folding the old dress back into the box, Lara opened the album. The first photo showed her mother and father on their wedding day. A shiny black car stood nearby, decorated with white roses and satin ribbons. Her mother's dark brown hair was curled and piled up on her head. Her father was smiling and waving at the camera.
Underneath it was written, 'Gabriella Winters, born on the 5th Day of June, 1948. Married on 19th Day of March, 1973. I am officially Lady Gabriella Croft.'
Lara pulled the lantern closer and had a quick flip through it. Recipes, poems, newspaper cuttings and photos were all stuck in the book. *Sort of like a diary,* Lara thought. She had kept a diary once - for an entire week, when she was 19. Now, she had a journal of her expeditions.
'I have a perfectly good diary, my grandmother bought it for me as a wedding gift. Mum said she was eccentric in her ways and mad to give me a diary. A lovely necklace or money, but not a notepad. So my album will tell the stories behind the pictures. Love, 'Ella.'
Lara gazed at the photo. Her mother, looking very similar to herself, sitting on the front bench of Croft Manor. Wearing a white sundress, with her hair out, she looked very happy. But very thin.
The next page was dated '7th Day of November, 1974,' - Lara's birthday. No pictures, just a newspaper clipping and Lara's mother's note.
'My baby Lara has been born. She's beautiful. Mother cannot come to the hospital - more in my diary.'
Lara flipped through the next pages - recipes, poems and photos of her Aunty Florance, a person Lara had never met.
Then, Lara realized that the album was almost over - only five more pages were filled.
'Lara turns 3 to day. Mr Wilson is developing the photographs as we speak - write.'
'Lara has been sent to stay with my mother - I am too ill to care for her.'
'Lara's 4th birthday to-day.'
That was it. It ended there. None of the photos mentioned on her third birthday were there. No last message for her daughter. Lara felt an over whelming sense of sadness over take her. She had never really mourned her mother's passing; she had never known 'Gabriella Croft,' only her beloved father.
Lara put the album on the dresser and moved to another cardboard box. Just as faded as the last, Lara ripped into it. Clothes and a few battered novels. The next box contained Lara's old school books and summer clothes. Then Lara stopped. Why all of a sudden was her mother so important? Lara was 26, almost 27, and her mother had barely ever counted in her life after her father died.
Her mother's family were not there. She had never known Aunt Florance or her Grandmother Danielle. From what she had been told by Mr Wilson, 'Flora' and 'Danielle' were only interested in money. Both were currently living in France, where the lifestyle suited them.
"Lara!" Bryce. Calling her for dinner. Lara sat the album on an ancient dresser, with only three and a half legs. Blowing out the lantern, Lara went down to dinner.
Hillary had managed to whip up a homemade pizza, some sort of quiche, salmon with brie and curry on little rice crackers.
"This is bee-oo-ti-ful!" Bryce cried, filling his plate up with the 'samples'. "Is this what you'll be serving tomorrow night?"
"Yes. But I have brought out some of my chocolate and raspberry ice cream, because Lara, you seem depressed," Hilly raised his eyebrows.
"I was 'cleaning out the attic and I found my mother's album," Lara said. "Do you know where her diary is? She kept refering to it."
Hillary passed Bryce the pizza. "Lady Gabriella's diaries were boxed up and burnt the day before your father left for his last expedition,"he said solomnly. "I understand that he wrote a letter explaining why, but I've never seen hide nor hair of it, Lara."
Lara licked the brie off her fingers. "Why? Did my mother know something special?"
Hillary looked uncomfortable. "You do know about how she died?"
Lara shrugged. "Sickness. I honestly don't remember her. Daddy always told me that it was because I stayed with Aunt Liate a lot when Gabrielle was dying. Cancer, I expect."
Lara knew if herfatherhad heard her refer to her mother as Gabriella, it would have broken his heart.
"That's right, Lara. She died just after your fourth birthday. She was living in a hospital by then and you didn't know her. She was hospitalized when you were three," Hillary sipped his tea.
"Excuse me!" Bryce raised his hand. "How do you know all this? You wouldn't have been working here."
Lara laughed. "Hilly's father worked for my father. And Hilly did garden work back then."
Lara heard the doorbell chime. Hilly stood up and went to get it.
"Hey Lara," Bryce turned to her. "You now how your father made a secret letter for you about the All Seeing Eye - maybe your mother's diaries are hidden like that!"
Before Lara could reply, Hilly walked in and handed Lara a bouquet of yellow roses. Opening the card, she frowned.
'To Lara, Love Alex.'
"Bastard," Lara spat, dumping the flowers in a vase. She tore the card in two and tossed it into the heater.
"Alex?" Bryce asked, his mouth full of curry.
"Mmm. Hillary, why did Daddy burn her diaries?" Lara asked.
"No reasons were given, Lara. He just told Mr Wilson to fetch Gabriella's diaries and destory them. He never read them. Mr Wilson told me all this, before he retired to Boothby's."
Lara tapped her cheek. Why had her father destroyed her direct link to her mother? He used to always tell her how much he wished Lara could remember her.
"My mother didn't know of the Illuminati... but why?" Lara sighed. "I'm going to have a bath, Hilly. I'll have dessert later."