Carolina slipped further down into the hot water of the roll top bath and watched the tea lights flickering. A glass of Merlot within easy reach, she mused on her recent life changes. A high flying, well travelled, published author, to owner of her Aunt Jane’s seaside, seventeenth century cottage.
She breathed in the salty air coming through the open window of Timeless Cottage and thought about a new story line of marauding pirates and sea captains. As the water grew cold again, Carolina slipped on her monogrammed ‘CE’ dressing gown, fluffy slippers and sat in her secluded little courtyard tapping out words on her laptop. Occasionally she thought she heard a soft chuckle, but ignored it.
Topping up her glass she reread her words and felt conscious of someone close by. Impossible as the courtyard was enclosed, and yet… she could almost feel warm breath on her neck, just as if someone was reading over her shoulder. Carolina reminded herself of her fair consumption of wine, but couldn’t resist turning around to double check. Of course there was no one there and she returned to the story line. Oh to roam the sea in a beautiful schooner with a sea faring captain at the helm she said out loud. Her imagination grew stronger as her skin developed goose bumps.
As she turned back to the laptop a very sensuous voice close by said, “Very good m’dear but let’s continue writing inside.”
Startled, she glanced in the direction of the voice, but realised she was completely alone. A cold shiver went through her and gathering everything together she headed inside, and locked the door, freely admitting that she was now spooked.
Pouring herself a cup of coffee she sat in Aunt Jane’s rocker for comfort. Damn it though, she could still feel that warm breath on her neck. It felt real anyway, and that chuckle…! Let’s not forget the dreams of late that had taken her to far off places, with connections to the sea….
Sipping the coffee she began rocking slowly remembering her family history and her aunt’s words.
“Take on the cottage and you take on its past life. Our family history is entwined within the sea.”
Wait! She could now smell a feint whiff of pipe tobacco. Then it was gone. Time for bed thought Carolina. As she pulled the duvet over her and slipped into sleep she heard voices.
“Fear not m’dear we will finish it on the morrow.”
Followed by her aunt Jane’s words, “Now that’s my kind of man. If I was fifty years younger and alive…!”
The cottage heard the soft chuckle of the rich velvet voice; but Carolina was already in the land of dreams.
In the corner of the room watching her sleep, was the handsome inspiration for her story. Those were the days m’dear, I should never have let you go! Relighting his pipe he sucked on it thoughtfully for a few moments and then disappeared. His vapour trail followed him through the open bedroom window.
The next morning Caroline continued to work on the story in the shaded courtyard. At times she felt exhausted but she couldn’t stop. At the end of the day it was finished and printed off. Her publisher would be pleased with this one and she left it on the table ready to package up for delivery.
It was an extremely hot night threatening a coming storm. Carolina tossed and turned continuously in the heat causing her lace nighty to become soaked. Cornelius Essex watched her from the corner of her bedroom. Her long, curly, raven black hair was spread around the pillow. Her full breasts were rising and gently falling in her erratic sleep pattern. His thoughts were preoccupied with their previous life together. Maybe with the right encouragement she would remember. He had waited centuries for her to re-join him, but he could do nothing until she had taken up residence again in this cottage; their cottage that they had shared for many years together.
“M’darling Carolina Essex I have waited so long for this moment. Together we will roam the Caribbean seas in my Blue Dolphin.”
He materialised and scooped her up in his arms. She would finally be his love once again, and he held her closely, kissing her lips. Carolina, unconsciously wound her arms around his neck and murmured in her sleep, but that was the only sound from her as they melted into the hot sultry night.
Aunt Jane materialised and smiled at the manuscript on the kitchen table. Finally their love story was written…
She then went in search of the brandy bottle that had caused her demise. Ok she couldn’t drink it but she could sniff the bottle maybe!
~o0o~
ã T K Geering 2012
