The Bell Tower of Elderfont Abbey was dark and claustrophobic. Sconce-held candles cast weak orbs of light over the walls; dashes of flame were reflected in the suit of armour and the large, ornate mirror. A woman passed it now, her hair the colour of burgundy and long as a bride's train. She wore a flowing black dress of vaguely medieval cut, and her face was as pale as the moon.
“I'm coming! I'm bloody coming!” she roared at the telephone, which seemed to give a frightened pause in its ringing. She squeezed past the suit of armour and grabbed the receiver. “Yes?”
“Is that the Bell Tower, Elderfont Abbey?”
“Yes, yes.” She felt something nudge her elbow and turned quickly to see the suit of armour leaning towards her leeringly. It had caught in the fabric of her sleeve. “What is it?” she snapped.
“Delivery, ma'am. We – we can't seem to locate -”
“Where are you now?”
“We've just turned off Farmbrook Terrace?”
“Yes. Fine. Now, continue on to the end, and you'll see a cul de sac to the left...” She tucked the receiver under her chin as she tried to unpick a thread from the breastplate.
“There's an abbey in there, is there? Strange. I don't recall -”
“Just turn left into the cul de sac -” A gauntlet fell off and she smothered a curse as it hit her toe.
“The sign says Farmbrook Court. Can that be right?”
“Yes, yes. Now. At the end of the row, -” She shoved the suit into the corner, where it collapsed crashingly.
“Number 6?” the voice yelled.
“It's the sixth, yes, that's right.” She kicked the gauntlet over to the pile of metal. "That's Elderfont Abbey.”
“Um...”
“Look at the sign on the door. El-der-font Abbey. The Bell Tower is at the top, naturally.” She watched as the gauntlet and its twin began arranging the other pieces.
“Apartment 4a?”
“Apartment 4b. Look, you should be able to see it, right next to the buzzer: The Bell Tower.”
“Ahem.”
“Are you there? If you're there you have to press the buzzer, I can't open the door otherwise.”
“This is a really big parcel. I don't know if we're going to get it up the stairs...”
“That's your job, isn't it?” She hung up and leaned across the debris to press the button which unlocked the lower door. “You'll have to leave that until they're gone,” she said to the gauntlets.
Of late, Veridia Darkwater had been less sweet-tempered than usual. And she had not been sweet to begin with. Compared to Veridia, lemons were on the cloying side. Her nemesis, whom she hated, was holidaying in Australia, which was just as well for him. His absence had luckily coincided with her bad mood. Now she stood at the front door to her flat, listening to a heaving, banging sound.
Slowly, trundlingly, a man's head came into view, emerging from the stairwell. His face was red and damp. He grimaced, then looked up at her, resentment in his eyes. With a grunt he took another step, and she saw the end of a huge brown paper parcel. “Keep moving, Joe!” a faint voice called from the depths. “I'll drop this if we don't get to put it down soon!”
“Nearly there, Neil, nearly there,” the man managed. He reached the landing and took three hurried steps forward, then with a sigh lowered his end of the box to the floor. Behind him the other man gave a cry of relief, and appeared, rubbing the small of his back. “Whoo,” he said, swinging his arms and rubbing them. “Whoo.” He stopped this upon catching sight of Veridia.
She glared at them, and then at the box. “What the hell is that?” she said. They looked at each other. “It's yours,” said the one called Neil.
“But who sent it? I don't know anyone!” She said this as if refuting an accusation. Joe raised his eyebrows and began stepping back slowly. “Well, it's got your name on it, love.”
“Love, is it?” Veridia began dangerously.
“I doubt it,” said Joe. “I don't think love comes in a big box.” Veridia scrutinised him with narrowed eyes. Was he stupid? Or was he cheeky? He thrust a sheet of paper at her. “Sign here please,” he said. She glanced at it. “But I don't want it. I have no room for it. Whatever it is.”
“That's not really how it works, l- ma'am,” said Joe. She opened her mouth to retort, but her eye happened to fall upon the sender's name. It was that of her nemesis, whom she hated. She paused, and her lips gathered to one side of her face. They appeared to help her come to a decision, because she snatched the slip, scrawled across it, and shoved it back at Joe's chest. Seizing his chance, he scarpered. “Hey!” she screamed. “How am I supposed to get this thing inside?”
In the end, the suit of armour helped her. It kept falling to bits and having to rebuild itself, so it was late in the evening by the time Veridia finally unravelled all the packaging. She was so incandescent with rage, she barely needed the candles. He had sent her a shark. An elderly stuffed shark. In a glass cabinet. What the hell was she supposed to do with that? She read the note again.
Dearest darling Veridia,
A little token of my feelings for you. It reminded me of your gentle ways.
Off for a bit of a swim tomorrow, at Lake Disappointment.
Kisses,
Mordecai
She snarled and scrunched up the letter, and decided to feed it to the shark. Then she remembered it was dead, and stuffed, and in a glass case. Instead she clambered over it and fell into a blood-red velvet armchair, her right hand spidering about on the floor for the half bottle of wine she had seen earlier. It was a screw-top, thankfully. She wondered if she could be bothered trying to get to the glasses in the kitchenette. The gallery of gothic statues tended to hinder movement in that direction. She considered, then stood on the chair and leaned across its high winged back, swiping an ornate silver goblet from its perch on a high shelf.
Twisting back to a sitting position, she gave a sharp intake of breath. A huge misty something hung in the air in front of her. As she stared, it grew gradually more distinct, gaining fins, a sharp nose, and what was either a hefty set of teeth or a particularly spiky echidna. The ghost of a shark. Its cold, shimmery eyes stared back at her, mostly terrifying, but also a little bit accusing. "I didn't kill you and stuff you," she said. Its expression didn't change, but then, she wasn't sure sharks really did expressions.
It turned abruptly, whipping her with an icy but ethereal tail, and swam out to the hall. A frantic clanking heralded the entrance of the suit of armour, closely followed by the intrigued fish. “Stop running about!” Veridia yelled. They both halted and looked at her. “I don't have room for you here!” she cried, accidentally knocking a gargoyle off an occasional table as she gestured. She gave a strangled bellow and strode out to the mirror in the hallway, her long skirts collecting various ornaments on the way.
“Mordecai!” she screeched at the glass. Within the writhing pewter frame, a man's face appeared. He was as pale as his wife and wore a pointed black beard and a claret-coloured smoking jacket. Behind him, people pottered about over scrubby sand, shading their eyes against a blue sky. He squinted, and then smiled. “Ah, you received Nursie.”
“Nursie?”
“Yes. Poor little Nursie. I knew you'd give her a good home.”
“Mordecai. I do not have room for a stuffed shark. I definitely do not have room for a stuffed shark, and the ghost of a stuffed shark.”
“Yes. What's that on your sleeve?” His wife glanced down and casually disentangled herself from a gem-encrusted reliquary. “Well,” he continued. “I suppose you can move back to the castle, and take Nursie with you.”
“Oh, can I?” Veridia hissed.
“It's that or send her to some awful antique shop. You couldn't do that, could you?” Veridia glanced around the corner, where the morose-looking shark hovered. Beside it, the suit of armour stood with its helmet on one side, looking pleading. “Tchuh,” she said, gruffly.
“Look,” said the removal man at last, “You'll have to give me better directions, I never heard of a castle around here.”
“I told you – you carry on down Meadowview Road, take the third left -”
“Ashgrove Crescent, you mean?”
“Near the end of the row, there's an elder tree and a fountain -”
“Yeah, I see it. A bird bath. Number Eight, Ashgrove Crescent, then?”
“Look at the sign on the gate! Elderfont Castle! Just like I said.”
