A Different Reflection (4 page)

“This was Master James on his sixteenth birthday – the day he became a man!” George sighed. “Unfortunately, two months earlier his father became very ill and took to his bed for two weeks before dying. He initially contracted influenza and then it progressed into pneumonia. Poor Margaret was inconsolable, and James had become heir to the estate overnight and had become the head of the house! He was devastated at the loss of his father and unfortunately in the days that followed it was to take its toll,” George said sadly.

“I am sure at that age it was a very hard duty to uphold whilst trying to grieve and console his mother at the same time,” I replied.

“Hmmm, Howard was indeed missed by all. He was a very sound employer and friend,” he replied. “This is why I am glad that they had a family portrait done whilst James was fourteen. Happier memories are good to reflect on sometimes; it reminds us of why we should go on living our lives.” George smiled as he looked at the painting alongside the one of James; all of them, smiling, an inseparable family. “A little like having a photograph to cherish!” he then said. I smiled at the portrait and tried to understand how tough it must have been for a sixteen-year-old boy to have so much responsibility. George gestured for us to move on and we passed another large mirror which he glanced in briefly as I smiled at him.

The next painting was, as portraits go, breathtaking. It was of a very handsome well-built man, with sapphire blue eyes and dark long hair that was swept back. He was well dressed and held himself very well indeed. I stopped and stared for a long time when George spoke:

“You like this portrait?” he asked. I turned to him.

“Well, as a woman, you would have to have no pulse not to like that one!” I laughed as I replied honestly and openly, with the courage of wine.

“Yes, well… Master James became quite the ‘magnet' for young women, very much to his mother's disapproval!” he replied, with his arms crossed across his chest. I gawped at him in surprise.

“Wait a minute, this is the same person as the sorrowful sixteen-year-old?” I asked as I walked back to the previous painting, looked at it and then returned back to George. “He looks so different, so well… how can I say it… so well lived and sure of himself!” I finished.

“Oh yes, he lived well. Drinking – or drowning his sorrows – gatherings, gambling, girls… he was only twenty-five at the time of this portrait, and as the years passed it only got worse. His mother did not try to stop him any longer; she hated watching him live the way he was. She wanted him to find love – real, true love, as she had – but she knew his behaviour was to avoid disappointment or loss the way she had suffered.” He sighed. “It was a truly sad and heart breaking time for all who had watched him grow from a small boy, to see what he had become. However, everyone tried to support him the best that they could,” he then finished.

“So there was no marriage? Is that why she was so negative?” I asked.

“Oh Katharina, marriage would have been ideal, according to his mother; the problem with Master James was that he did not want to settle down. After the loss of his father and having to run the estate, he became isolated from society for quite a time. After some time, though, he could not bear to see his mother so upset on a daily basis with her loneliness. With him needing to attend social meetings and gatherings, he started to surround himself with more and more people at events where he felt important and needed,” George explained.

“So he thought being surrounded by many people would stop him from becoming lonely?” I queried. George nodded as he looked at the painting.

“He started to realise that he was popular with the female species – usually rich, beautiful women – and he used it to his advantage!” George replied.

“Reckless, I would say, and self-destructive! I take it he only attached himself to these women for the night, or as long as they entertained him?” I then asked.

“Nice way of putting it, Katharina! Yes, that's exactly what he did. He had the notion in his thick head that if he did not get close to any single woman, then she could not break his heart. Marriage was not anywhere near the top of his list, I assure you!” he said with anger and regret.

“I find it very sad that he felt that way. After seeing his mother so upset, I can imagine it would make you very protective of yourself, but to deny that kind of love and affection and commitment with someone… it's a far worse torture to endure, and extremely sad!” I answered, as George looked at me.

“Do you believe that love and commitment of that magnitude are available to everyone?” he questioned. I smiled.

“Oh George, absolutely!” I stated with conviction. “I am a huge believer in the ‘happily ever after' story of love and affection on that scale. It's what I have always wanted!” I replied as I stared at the portrait.

“You do not have that now? You are engaged, are you not?” he asked. I looked at the ring on my finger.

“Yes, I am engaged, but there is another story entirely!” I replied with doubt.

“Your fiancé is not a romantic, then?” George asked as he looked directly into my eyes. I smiled and touched his shoulder.

“Unfortunately he is not! Unlike some of us, George,” I sighed and moved along, then continued, “I thrive on stories of love that has lasted against all odds. A love worth dying for, and certainly worth fighting to live every day to experience!” I finished as I turned and looked at him. I shrugged and smiled again. “I cannot believe I just told you that!” I then quickly followed it up with.

“Well, do not give up hope, Katharina; after all, I find it is always acceptable and possible to believe in fairy tales!” George smiled at me and walked toward me.

“I always live in the hope of being promised a love like that!” I laughed lightly. “So what happened to James?” I then asked. George sighed.

“You really want to know?” he asked.

“Hell yes, I am completely wrapped up in his story now. I really want to know whether he found happiness!” I confirmed.

“Well, I think that maybe you should ask that on your next visit! It is getting very late and I do not want you travelling alone very late at night,” he smiled as he guided me toward the door. I looked at my watch: it was 9.45pm.

“Gosh, I didn't even realise that so much time had passed. I have had such a lovely evening, George!” I was quick to reply.

“Let me call you a cab,” he suggested as we walked back to his apartment and I packed my belongings. “Would you like to call again?” he then asked.

“I would really like that, if you are sure. I feel like I am taking up so much of your time though.”

“Time, Katharina, is one thing that I have plenty of!” he laughed. “I find your company refreshing; as long as you don't mind spending time with an old fool like me, I would be honoured if you would pay me another visit!” he remarked.

“Please don't be so harsh on yourself. I find you an interesting, generous and very likeable person, George; I love your stories and your company, and better still I love your cooking!” I smiled as I replied. “I would have loved to have lived in a house like this; it really is my dream one day!” I replied.

“Maybe I could fulfil that wish for one day and night?” he replied.

“How so?” I asked curiously.

“Why don't you come and stay here, for one whole day and one night? You can have one of the original master rooms and imagine that you are lady of the house for a day and night,” he suggested. “If your fiancé approves, of course!”

“I think that you will find I dictate my own decisions and choices!” I replied as I thought for a minute. “Alright, George; one day, one night – one life experience I will never forget. I would love to – on one condition!” I replied.

“Which is?” he asked with anticipation.

“We will both cook, and… I would like one dance in that huge ballroom!” I said forcefully as I smiled. George laughed.

“Well that seems like a fantastic deal for me!” he joked.

“When do you request my company?” I asked.

“I can do Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday or next weekend!” George quickly answered. I looked at my planner.

“How about Tuesday? I am quite liking the idea of this, and Tuesday means that I do not have to wait too long,” I asked.

“Tuesday it is. I feel very fortunate that you have accepted my invitation. Shall we say nine o'clock? I am so glad that we met; you are a breath of fresh air in my otherwise very boring life!” he then stated.

“Thank you George; likewise!” I announced in return. The cab outside sounded its horn.

I turned and walked toward the main door, which he opened, and as I turned back to shake his hand, he once again held it gently, kissed the back of it and bid me goodnight. I waved as I got into the cab and text John to say I was leaving as we pulled away down the long driveway. I couldn't wait to tell him all about it.

“Like hell you are!” John shouted at me. “Are you completely out of your mind? You have no idea who this guy is and what he is capable of!” he angrily said.

“John, for goodness' sake, he's ancient. What do you possibly think is going to happen to me? He has been nothing but charming and insisted that I check with you first! He's hardly likely to do that if he's intending on holding me hostage, is he?” I answered back with annoyance.

I had not expected John to be so upset about me staying for one night at Northfield. To add insult to injury, I was really looking forward to it! He looked at the disappointment in my face and then carried on:

“Look, I know you can look after yourself – it's the reason I bought you self-defence classes – but I just think it's a little odd! A young woman staying with an ‘ancient' bloke? I would be mad not to worry!” he then said as he kissed me on the forehead. I sighed.

“I know, and I appreciate you worrying, but I have a really good feeling about this story, this house and George. It just feels right, and I know I can make a great story out of this. I don't expect you to understand my reasons, but I really want to do this. I will have my phone and you know where I am!” I replied, trying to pull my best sympathetic doe-eyes at him.

He shrugged and grunted at me as he walked to the bathroom. “Sweet Jesus, Kat, I know you – and I know that you will not be happy if I try and talk you out of this!” he called back to me. He had pushed the bathroom door nearly closed and so I punched the air with excitement that he was coming around. “It does not mean that I am happy about it though!” he then said. I slowly danced around the room whilst he was brushing his teeth. I was so excited. I thought about the grandeur of Northfield and the fact that I was going to be spending a night and a whole day there! I was going to make sure that this was enjoyed to the maximum.

The weekend couldn't have dragged more significantly, and by the time Monday morning arrived, I almost ran to the tube station. I knew that there was a brief meeting this morning, so there would definitely be the question asked of how my evening with George had gone. I hoped that Angela, my editor, could see a great story, and along with my enthusiasm, let me stay on Tuesday night. It was alright getting John to agree, but I had to convince Angela it was worth pursuing.

As expected, the meeting swayed my way, and I gave them a brief rundown on what had happened to date. I was surprised at the response from most of the team, including the men. I expected some negative feedback, but everyone seemed to like the idea and the women were, like me, intrigued with George. “It's good to get some background, but we need to know his story Kat!” Angela confirmed.

“Yes, well hopefully I will get to that tomorrow – and tomorrow night!” I replied.

“Well just in case you need a quick getaway, take one of the cars,” Angela then said.

“You can take mine – I'm in all week, I've got a deadline coming up, so I can take the tube to work!” Martin, one of our journalists, suddenly announced.

“Great, that's sorted then!” Angela finished as she closed the meeting.

I walked back to my desk to find a steaming cup of coffee waiting for me. Claire had collated all the appropriate data for me and it sat neatly stacked in a pile on my desk. “So did she say yes?” she suddenly asked as she appeared at my side. I nodded as I picked up the mug of coffee.

“Ooooh, this is so exciting!” she replied, as she clapped her hands with the eagerness of a small child.

“Well, I'm just hoping that I don't find myself with a boring, non-printable story at the end of this!” I casually replied.

“Well, I hardly think that's going to happen! Even I'm intrigued and wish I could come with you!” she happily pointed out.

The day was steady. I thought about the best way to approach my overnight visit, then made sure that I wrote down some appropriate questions to ask. George had a very clever knack of completely enticing you into his stories so that you forgot what you asked in the first place! I needed to try and focus, especially as I was to be there for a long length of time. After all the planning, I was glad to be on the way home. Driving through London in the early evening traffic was not so great, but as I had been given the use of a car it was bearable.

I arrived back to an empty apartment – John was always working all hours at the moment – so I used the opportunity to get things packed before he changed his mind. I decided I would take a favourite tea dress (purchased solely to attend a recent wedding) for dinner tomorrow evening. I would perhaps be a little over-dressed, but if I was staying at Northfield I was certainly going to make the most of it. I sat on the end of my bed and thought about what life would have been like back then, in such a grand house. I always felt that we were never as romantic these days as back in those times, and George's many stories certainly confirmed a lot of that.

I had just finished packing when John arrived home. I could tell that his day hadn't gone all too well, but I tried to ignore the negative signs. I started an evening meal as he finished up on his computer. Once we had sat down to eat, I asked him about his day.

“I take it you haven't had a good day?” I asked hesitantly.

“One of the worst! Things are not going to plan with this new deal, and it means I am going to have to work longer hours tomorrow night!” he snapped in return. I looked down at my plate.

“Probably best that I am away tomorrow night then?” I reminded him. He took a bite of food and then looked at me.

“Ah, I forgot – yes, you and the lonely old fool! I still don't think that I'm happy about this, Kat,” he said, slightly aggravated.

“Well it's all arranged now, and I am going!” I insisted.

“It had better be worth it!” John then snapped again. “I mean, you are going to look fairly silly if there isn't really a story there!” he then laughed. I slammed my fork down onto my plate.

“Well, thanks for that vote of confidence!” I remarked. I suddenly wasn't very hungry and took my plate to the kitchen.

“Yeah, but come on, Kat, it is all a bit strange, you not knowing him that well and staying. People will talk!” he smugly commented.

“Well let them!” I snapped back. I walked to our bedroom and closed the door. I stood and looked out of the window at the grey sky that was accumulating above; it remarkably reflected my mood. I decided to take a hot bath, get into my pyjamas and read.

By the time John came to bed, I had nodded off whilst reading. I was only aware of him being there when he took the book from out of my hand that had fallen onto my chest. I briefly woke.

“I don't want to fight with you, Kat. Just be careful!” he whispered in my ear as he snuggled up behind me.

“Hmmmm!” I lazily replied, too tired to restart our argument.

I seemed to have the most vivid dreams and the one that woke me at 3am was no exception. I sat up in bed and looked at the clock. Great, another early wakeup call! I stumbled to the bathroom and, whilst washing my hands, looked at myself in the mirror.
Mirrors – I must put that on my list of questions for George. Why are there so many mirrors?
I stumbled back to bed in my half state of slumber and went back to sleep; it was raining outside, again, but the sound was soothing, and before I knew it the alarm had kicked in at 6.30am. I woke to find that I had knots in my stomach – not the horrid type, but the excited and slightly nervous type, like a first date! I showered and changed into some casual clothes and then went for coffee. John had already woken and I could hear him in the kitchen.

“Got to dash babe!” he said as I appeared. He kissed me on the cheek and grabbed his keys after putting a slice of toast into his mouth. It was all a little quick.

“Alright! See you tomorrow night!” I replied. He stopped at the door before exiting, put down his briefcase and removed the toast from his mouth.

“Promise me you'll be careful?” he said as he walked back and gave me another kiss.

“Of course. I'm looking forward to finding out more!” I replied honestly. “I hope that your day is better than yesterday!” I finished as he turned and replaced the toast back in his mouth. He raised his hand in the air in acknowledgement, then left. As the door slammed shut, I sighed,
Hope it goes well!
I sarcastically mimed to myself. I decided to have some coffee – a good cure for anything. I would let the rush of early business traffic make its way through and then I would set off. This gave me time for a very leisurely breakfast and time to look at the paper, which was a novelty for me.

As I pulled out of the underground garage, I had butterflies in my stomach again. I really wanted this to work, and I knew it had to be good to convince Angela to print it, but there was always that small thought at the back of my mind that it may be a non-runner. The traffic wasn't too bad, the weather was dull and cloudy and looked like rain, but I had plenty of time to re-run the questions in my head for George before I got there. As I neared Northfield, on the quiet roads away from London city centre, my phone rang. I answered it. “Hello?”

“Kat, it's Claire. I just wanted to wish you luck. I am actually slightly envious of that fact that you get to spend the night in a beautiful old house!” she commented, with a hint of frustration.

“Ah, thanks Claire. I am nearly there now, so fingers crossed!” I replied.

“Well, keep your phone on just in case. Ring me anytime!” she replied.

“I will. It's really nice that you called. I am quite excited now!” I replied honestly.

“I bet you are! I would be. If it does turn out that he is an old pervert, though, don't be afraid to use your self-defence. Just don't kill the guy – that would make the wrong kind of story!” she joked as I laughed. We said goodbye as I reached the main gates.

As I parked the car and started to open the door, George appeared with a larger smile than normal; he almost skipped along to my car. I stepped out and smiled. “Good morning, George!” I said as I went to the boot to get my overnight bag.

“Good morning, please allow me!” He reached in and retrieved my bag and other things.

“It's not a particularly nice day, George!” I commented on the accumulating grey clouds.

“Typical British weather, I think!” He smiled and gestured for me to walk ahead of him up the front steps.

On entering the amazing house I stopped and glanced around again as I shrugged my coat off and placed it on a nearby chair. It made me smile again, just to see the splendour of it all. George closed the door and I turned to face him. “Are you sure that you are alright with me staying, George?”

“Absolutely! In my not-busy schedule, it is my sheer delight to spend some time with you, Katharina!” He was so sincere and seemed good-hearted. “Let me show you to your room!” He gestured toward the stairs and walked along side me with my bags.

“I still cannot believe how beautiful this house is!” I pointed out. “I am really looking forward to being here!”

“Well that is good news. The place could do with some cheering up!” he laughed as we walked past the big mirror at the top of the first stairway.

We walked along a corridor that I remembered briefly from the tour that George had given me on a previous visit. We stopped at a door about halfway along. He turned a large door handle and pushed the door open, which creaked as I walked in. It was a large room with a four-poster bed; it was very lavish and filled with paintings, and furniture that was of a more feminine style. In the corner stood a dressing table, and as I walked to it, it felt like I had stepped back in time. There was a beautiful hairbrush and mirror inlaid with fine, intricate silver. Old perfume bottles stood, still half-filled, alongside a jewellery box. I lifted the lid to find the most beautiful bright blue inlay, and around the outside of the inner lid was what looked to be mother of pearl. Oddly, there was still jewellery inside.

“I didn't have the heart to remove it!” George suddenly said. “It belonged to Margaret. It feels like parts of her are still around here; she did so much. I like to keep reminders of people past!” He seemed so sad.

“I can understand that, George. I think it's a very sweet sentiment,” I smiled.

“Feel free to wear anything within it!” he then remarked. “So, do you find the room to your liking?”

“It's more than I could have imagined myself staying in this time last week!” I laughed. “It's amazing, I love it.”

“Good!” he quickly replied. “The bathroom is two doors down. I will go and put the kettle on, if you want to unpack! Come down to my kitchen when you are ready.”

It took me a few minutes just to take in the whole room after George left. I strolled around the edges, looking at the paintings and another large mirror. The fireplace was a beautiful cream marble and had logs sat within it, ready for lighting. The walls were decorated with a subtle, pale-green paper with darker green trailing leaves and pretty little pink flowers. It felt delicate to the touch and looked hand painted. As I returned to the bed and sat at the foot of it, I took a deep breath and imagined Margaret in this room. It intrigued me to think of who had been here before me.

Not having much to unpack, as I was only staying the night, I laid my dress on the bed and placed my shoes on the floor. I straightened the creases from travelling and then took out my wash bag. I could take that to the bathroom later. On removing my notepad with its questions, I headed down to the kitchen to find George. As usual, he was busy in the kitchen; he was just finishing making us a coffee, so I sat at the table.

“I suppose it will be strange for you to have someone staying here for the night! How long is it since anyone else occupied the house?” I asked curiously as he handed me my coffee mug.

“Ah, now let's see. I think that the last people to be here were the Wainwrights.” He questioned himself for a second. “Yes, that's right. They lived here for about eighteen months, going on eight years ago now!” He sat at the table opposite me as I nearly choked on my coffee.