All that is left are the basic foundations – four gigantic slabs of stone embedded in the earth. They remain to testify that once, long ago a property of substance stood on this very plot of land. According to parish records there have been three properties on this very site and all have suffered the ravages of a great fire that reduced the dwelling to a shell and killed those who dwelt therein.
Yet the cornerstones have remained in tact.
The story I relate tells of a period when a new Master bought the land and retained Seth as part of the settlement.
Parish records state that a gardener called Seth has always been here.
The Master oversaw the building of the house. He ordered new stone to be brought to the site – quarried and cut into shapes according to the instruction of the masons.
And timbers salvaged from various sources. Some new, some from shipwrecks where all hands were lost. Some, beams from places of sorrow pulled down and scattered in the hope to ease the shame.
The site became alive with noise and whilst masons fashioned the stone, carpenters reshaped old sail masts exposing their raw, inner sides. Other craftsmen honed each joint to perfection and fused them with various timbers from disused places, making the old new again and given a new purpose – masking their old existence – being full of memories, some too awful to bear.
Yet the spirit of the site melded these memories, and passed them throughout the new building where the cornerstones soaked them up and placed them with other, older thoughts, into storage.
The dwelling began to take shape. Inglenooks breathed life into rooms. Firelight flickered on walls, dragging shadows from corners to dance a merry jig. And the Mistress picked flowers tended by Seth, walked his twisted winding paths – delighting in the pleasures of his creation and the Master smoked his pipe of contentment. Then Sophia arrived – first sleeping, then crawling, toddling and jabbering. Hair like polished corn, she sang in every room, danced Seth’s paths and filled the house with love, until the Mistress grew wan and was placed to rest and the Master sobbed tears and that was when the wicked evil Nurse arrived.
–
(c) 2024 Pat Barnett.
