Hey everybody, has it been a long time or what? I wouldn't know, days have no meaning for me anymore...
I know a lot of you were curious about what happened when VH went to persuade Hannah. I had decided to keep it a secret, but since I was coming up with some lovely scenarios, if you really want to know send me an e-mail and I'll probably type one of them up and send it to you.
.... anyway here ya go! Next chapter!
Chapter Thirty: Starting
It must pain you to let go
Of everything you've ever wished for
"We're all set," said Carl, "all ready to go, all prepared, totally— ready. If we only had a destination in mind, this whole thing would be a piece of cake."
"I've been thinking about it," said Tamerlaine slowly. "Carl, you remember we had two homes, the one my sister and I stayed in after Mother died, and then the house on the cliff—"
"House on the cliff," Carl repeated. "What house on what cliff?"
"The one where Father was— found."
"Ah," said Carl immediately. "No, I don't remember, but I know what you mean."
"I thought it had been sold— that is, I assumed it had. But— suppose after the estate passed to Uncle Edward, he retained it?"
"It makes sense," said Van Helsing, "especially from a criminal point of view."
"How do you mean?"
"Ms. Gentle, I suspect very strongly that your uncle is responsible for the death of your father, if not your mother as well. It only makes sense to hold on to the property your father was murdered on— in order to keep nosy parkers from amateur-sleuthing around, if nothing else. Do you remember where it is?"
"To the north," she said, her brow wrinkling. "Near the Welsh border. We called it something ferociously clever, I remember— Dunroamin, or Gentle's Rest, or— something else sickeningly cute."
"And it was on a cliff."
"It was most definitely on a cliff," she agreed. "I nearly went over, one summer. I think my vertigo dates from that."
"You have vertigo?" said Carl. "I have vertigo!" In response to the look they both gave him, he said, "Right, some other time. Ahem, look, Tamerlaine, do you think there's anywhere else he might have gone?"
Tamerlaine buried her head in her hands. "That's just it, I don't know. I rarely spoke to my uncle— his disapproval of me was very public."
"False disapproval," interjected Van Helsing.
"False or otherwise, everyone heard about it. He gave me an allowance every month— he spoke to Simon quite often— perhaps I should have suspected they were in league together, but when one gets in a depression one tends to concentrate on oneself, you know."
"It was in the papers, you know," said Van Helsing suddenly. "Last night. Late edition. Sir Edward Gentle named successor to coveted Parliament position. No one seems to know where he is. I wonder what's next— Prime Minister? Queen of England?"
"Paper—" murmured Carl, thoughtfully thumbing his lower lip. "Paper? Oh!" His tone was so clearly surprised and exultant that it attracted the other two's attention and they both looked curiously at him. He had taken hold of the scrap-book and was rifling furiously through the pages.
"Where— I know it must be here— where could it— ah! Here it is!" He stared at the page and then looked up at Tamerlaine, a definite twinkle in his eye. "You're right."
"What about?"
"It was called Gentle's Rest."
"Where?"
"Just outside Craigorn-On-Wells. Gentle's Rest, East Hockley, Craigorn, Wales."
He pushed the book over to Van Helsing, who read the article with interest. When he finished, he said, "You were five when your father died—"
"Yes. I remember him going away. He said he wouldn't be long, he would be— come back soon." Tamerlaine's face was still but the look in her eyes made Carl worry. "It was all so long ago."
"And now you will make amends," said Van Helsing firmly. "Every crime has its punishment, and no victim ever goes fully unrevenged. It doesn't matter how long it takes."
Tamerlaine lifted her eyes and smiled.
"So what do we do?"
"We ride for Wales," said Carl, in a tone that brooked no argument.
They rode for Wales. There was some dispute as to whether or not horses would suffice— both Carl and Van Helsing were of the opinion that Tamerlaine should ride in a carriage. She insisted horses would be faster and she could ride. Not well, she admitted freely, but well enough.
Carl and Van Helsing said, amidst lots of hemming and hawing, that they'd feel better knowing she, as a female, was fully protected from the elements— whereupon she called them both male chauvinist pigs and insisted they lead the way to the stables at once.
There was a bit of a silence while the two men looked at each other.
At last Van Helsing raised one eyebrow and said, "Well, at least she can't be any worse than you, Carl."
On that note, they attempted to set out.
Hannah was, initially, a bit of a problem.
It took fully twenty minutes for Carl to persuade her that their leave-taking was a good thing, although, he later confided to the others, it was Van Helsing she would regret the loss of.
They looked at Van Helsing, who sat, tight-lipped and with a slight blush stealing over his distinguished features, on a nervous, piebald mare.
"I'd feel inclined to laugh," Carl added, "if it weren't for the fact that he'd knock me off my horse if I did."
"Which would be a shame," said Van Helsing, "as it took you an hour to get on in the first place."
Tamerlaine clutched the mane of her horse in both hands and grinned desperately. When she said she rode not-well she spoke truth, and she was supremely nervous— not just about the impression bad horsemanship would make on her companions, but the impression bad horsemanship would make on her body.
"I will make you a deal," she announced to her horse, much to Carl and Van Helsing's amusement. "You see me safely to my destination, and I won't beat you to death with a stick. I've never broken a bone in my life, and I don't intend to start now." Satisfied, she looked at the men.
"Are we going?"
"We're going," said Van Helsing firmly.
She grinned broadly and motioned with her hand. "Age before beauty."
"In that case Carl should be going first."
"I think not!" exclaimed Carl. "With my sense of direction? We'd be lost in five minutes. Anyway I am not either older than you, Van Helsing. Which of the two of us has memories of fighting at Masada?"
"I'd love to explore that more fully," said Tamerlaine, "but hadn't we really better be getting on?"
They set off.