Disclaimers: as before.

Nigel's station was at the end of the line, very literally. Alighting at Bannockburgh Halt, he observed that the buffers at the termination of the track been reached and that land itself disappeared swiftly into sea and fog beyond the end of the deserted platform. The station was tucked in a small glacial-cut valley, the sides of which soared up towards looming, grey mountains, between ranges of which the railway line had weaved itself, with the aid of several tunnels and tottering viaducts. It had been a spectacular journey. Nigel had enjoyed it, despite his misgivings about his destination.

Towards the end of the trip, which had taken several hours, he had started to feel a little nervous about the quietness of the train. The conductor had still been making his way up and down, and he bought a cup of tea from a nice lady at the buffet car, but there didn't seem to be any other passengers left at all. Glancing up the platform in the light drizzle, then, he was enormously relieved to see and hear the chatter of three young women climbing out of a carriage at the other end of the train. All were carrying small suitcases or travelling bags, much like himself. His instructions from Sydney were to wait on the platform for somebody from the castle to meet him. However, seeing as nobody else was about, chivalry required him to ascertain if the girls were also bound for Bannockburgh Towers, and if he could do anything to assist them.

As he got closer, Nigel discerned the young women features rather more clearly and instinctively stopped dead in his tracks. They were gorgeous! All three had amazing bodies and almost implausibly beautiful faces, although each was of a rather different 'type.' One was very tall, with long, sandy straight hair and a svelte model-like figure and face to complement it. The second was a peroxide blonde, shorter, with wavy hair, an hourglass figure, and voluptuous Marilyn Monroe-style lips, embossed with bright red lipstick. The third was a petite brunette, with neat, almost feline features and a particularly pert bottom and cleavage.

Nigel forgot himself for a moment, and stood transfixed, taking in the visual feast. He did not register, until it was too late, that the girls had also noticed him, and were sizing him up in much the same way. Unfortunately for Nigel, it was three against one.

'Oh my God,' squealed the pseudo-Marilyn Monroe. 'He's way cuter than the last stableboy!' They rushed at him as if they were one being. Nigel was struck with sheer panic.

'How do you do, ladies, I….err, wondered if you needed any assistance?' He knew all was lost.

'You can assist me anytime you like, sweetie,' said the tall blond, circling him like a predatory panther. The would-be Marilyn reached forward, brushed her fingers through his hair, and then leaned into him and whispered breathily, 'You're our stableboy, aren't you?'

'I…I think so!' Nigel, swept away by a combination of excitement and horror, tried not to squeal.

'Stop teasing him,' said the brunette, cliched though it was, she was obviously the sensible one. She took Nigel by the arm, and pulled him away from the pawing blondes. 'Oh dear,' she sighed. 'Have you any idea what you've let yourself in for?'

Nigel stared at her vacantly. The tall blond had leant over and was trying to stick her hand down the front of his jumper. The brunette swatted her travel companions' snakelike wrist. 'Leave him alone!' she said authoritatively.

'I'm Moira,' said the brunette, directly. 'This is Pansy,' here she indicated the short, curvy blonde, 'and this is Tabatha.' At this, Pansy and Tabatha both started forward in the hope of conferring warmer greetings, but Moira yanked Nigel forward by the sleeve and out of their respective paths. 'And you are?'

'Nigel,' said Nigel distractedly. He could see Pansy pouting at him in the corner of his vision.

'Oh dear,' said Moira, again. 'Well, it's blatantly obvious you came into this with your eyes shut, isn't it?'

'Is it?' Nigel was certainly finding it difficult to focus. Tabatha had now stuck her fingers down the back of his trouser waistband.

Moira continued. 'We are all actresses.' Pansy smiled bountifully, and fluttered her eyelashes. 'Out of work actresses,' articulated Moira, emphatically. Pansy pouted again.

'Sadly, we've all done this several times before. We know the ropes: be nice to the guests, let them get friendly, but not too friendly…'

'Unless we want them to, of course,' giggled Pansy.

'Be quiet, Pansy!' Tabatha looked slightly chastised, but only slightly.

'You, I assume, are a student, not an actor?'

'I'm a postgraduate student. History. Ancient studies.' Nigel answered on autopilot. All he could think about was the feel of Tabatha's ice-cold fingers tickling the small of his back.

'Yes, well, they've been having problems getting stableboys,' said Moira, with a sigh. 'I'm not surprised,' she continued, shaking her head. 'The pay is lousy, and it was humiliating work for an actor.'

Nigel nodded and smiled, but his senses had come back far enough for him to think to himself, 'it couldn't have been as humiliating for them, as it's going to be for me!' He could see that there would be some pleasures involved, but he sincerely wished that Tabatha would remove her hand from its current location, which was dangerously near his underwear.

These thoughts were interrupted by honk of a car horn, following which, to his inexpressible relief, the offending hand was removed swiftly. A large, black vintage looking car, which Nigel identified as a 1939 Morris, drew up outside the tiny station, and a red-faced, middle-aged man with a bushy moustache jumped out energetically.

'Three milk-maids-come-serving-wenches, check! One stableboy,' he said uncertainly, eyeing Nigel up and down as if he was a prize bunny-rabbit. He then grinned. 'Check!' he exclaimed, running over and patting Nigel on the back. 'You'll do very nicely. I'm Bob - the estate manager, butler, and general dogsbody round here.' Nigel shook Bob's proffered hand. 'I'm always a bit nervous about employing people when I've only seen a picture, but my wife adored you. She said you looked perfect!'

'He is perfect,' drawled Pansy, and then gave a hiccupping giggle.

'Alright Pansy, into the car all of you,' said Bob, who then began gathering up their luggage to put in the boot. Nigel knew he had no time to waste: he tossed his bag into the back and threw himself into the front seat next to the driver. There was no way he could survive being stuck in the back seat between Pansy and Tabatha, although he could imagine worse ways to die!

………………………

The car journey lasted about three quarters of an hour, during which time the car chugged its way along a winding coast road, hugging the edge of the sharp slopes that marked the bottom of the mountains. Nigel had to concentrate hard, bombarded with all sorts of questions which he had to answer without giving away his true occupation. He was a student, he told them, and he was in desperate need of a bit of extra cash, fast. His car had broken down and he needed to fix it! He'd never done anything like this before but, hey, he was game for anything! Nigel's severely regretted expressing the last set of sentiments as soon as he uttered them.

Did he have a girlfriend? That was a hard one, causing Nigel to pause and think.

'No, well… kind of. There's somebody, but she doesn't know… ' Nigel wished he'd not been so honest, but hoped sharing this knowledge might ward the girls off a little. The three actresses in the backseat exchanged knowing glances. He'd forget her soon enough, they thought. This boy was certainly 'game.'

……………………

Eventually, they reached a small bay with a jetty which led straight onto the tiniest car ferry that Nigel had ever seen. Bob drove straight on, waved at the ferryman and shouted 'All aboard, Donald!' The runway at the back of the boat slowly folded up, and the ferry eased away from the quay, rolling gently on the waves. Nigel hoped it wouldn't be too far, or get too rough. He felt his cheeks becoming red just at the thought of being seasick in front of Moira, Tabatha and Pansy.

Fortunately, land became discernible ahead after about ten minutes, and after fifteen they were safely docked. For only the second time since he'd met the girls, Nigel thought about Sydney. He hoped the small stretch of water would not be between them for too long. He then wondered how it would be when she did arrive, pretending not to know each other, and how she would get along with Pansy, Tabatha and Moira!

It was only a short drive from the dockside to the castle. Bob said the island was only five miles square and, apart from his cottage and a few other outbuildings, the castle was the only building on the island.

But what a building it was! It truly lived up to its name as 'the towers.' The enormous facade was peaked at each corner by high, castellated towers, from the edges of which hung humungous, garish gargoyles, water pouring from their mouths after recent rain. The windows, large and small, rose to high pointed arches, like those of a cathedral. At its centre, ascending high above a courtyard, was a high round tower. This was topped with a precarious looking spire, the point of which was obscured by the low hanging cloud.

'It's full of vampires,' lisped Pansy, patting Nigel on the shoulder and pointing to the tower. Her voice was laced with mock fear. 'Will you protect me from them, Nigel?' She giggled, Tabatha joining in. These two girls were starting to annoy him. They may have been pretty, but they made Claudia look like a hard-nosed intellectual.

'What an amazing pile,' he said to Bob, referring back to the stately home, but really he was unimpressed. It wasn't a real castle. It was not yet two hundred years old! Never built to be a fortification, it was merely the folly of an overindulged aristocrat and Imperial plunderer.

Nigel had little time to sneer, however, as he was hurried off quickly to be shown his room and told the ropes. In under an hour the guests would arrive, and everybody needed to be ready, in character and in costume.

Thanks for reading. Reviews appreciated. More very soon – and more Syd, I promise!