The White Lady - Lily Larkin

The White Lady

The light blacks out from the tower of Redhall Manor, once, twice, three times and I smile, slowly slipping out from beneath the blankets of my bed in the gate-house.

I pull on my simple white dress and best boots, lacing them up as quickly and quietly as I could before crouching down under the bed to pull out my tiny case, filled with my few precious belongings. Creeping across the room I lift my white linen cloak and bonnet from the hook by the door.

As I go to leave, my hand stills on the iron handle. I throw a glance over my shoulder at my sleeping family whom I am leaving behind, and sadness fills my entirety. I try to push it away and think only of the loving life I am to have with my beloved and our child, but I cannot do it without knowing that I will have something to remind me of home.

So I risk it.

On tiptoes, I creep across the floor to my sweet sister’s bedside. Her face is relaxed and body still in slumber. She barely stirs as I gently pull the ribbon from her plaited hair.

I look to my other side, to where my parents sleep soundly in their bed. Oblivious to me leaving, never to return.

At that thought, my heart aches.

As quick as I could, I tiptoed back to the door, collecting my case. I leave, not allowing myself a final look back. While I walk away from the gate house, from my family, from life as I know it, I only let one small, bittersweet tear roll down my cheek.

Dusk is now long past and it is only the light from the moon that allows me to cross glenhead field. To the south I can see the top of the tower of Redhall manor, peaking out above the darkened treetops. I cannot help but smile at the many fond memories made inside the manor that have led to this moment.

I lift my white petticoats above my ankles, as I begin to wander from the path and through the trees, over the tops of rocks and roots. I can hear the rush of the river nearby and I quicken my step, butterflies beginning to flutter in my belly. I clamber through the wood until I can see the meandering path of the river. I follow it’s banks to the top of the steep decline to where the river cascades down a waterfall and regains it’s flow through Aldfreck field.

I perch myself upon the large rock that, over the last months, has become my usual seat when we meet here. I stare, for the last time, across to where the moonlight dances on the calm surface of Laharna lough, and follow the outline of McGee’s island shrouded now in

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black shadow. Beyond the island, the sea shimmers with sliver rays and although I cannot see it, I know that a boat is waiting for us in the harbour at Mullaghdoo, ready to take Andrew and I away to Scotland, the land of his ancestors, where we are soon to be married. We will travel to Duntreth and live happily together, raising our child in peace, in a land where people will not know of our difference in upbringing, only that we are in love.

I place my hand on my slightly swollen belly and try to calm the nerves inside.

I wait upon the rock and gently, passively, run my sister’s ribbon in and around my pale fingers as I watch the moon make it’s journey through the stars, and sometimes, momentarily, like now, hiding behind a cloud.

I hear the thud of horses’ hooves and try to settle the panic of butterflies in my belly. Quickly, I tie the ribbon to the handle on my case, before standing up to greet my beloved.

Through the thick shadows of the oak trees I can see the figure of a dark man upon a black stallion, hooded and moving slowly towards me. They stop, only a few feet away. The man jumps down from his horse, his dark grey cloak covers his entire person, right down to his ankles. He begins to step towards me through the dark.

“Lord Edmonstone?” I whisper, “Andrew? Is that you my love?”

He lowers his hood and lets the moonlight grace his features; dark eyes, disheveled hair, sunken cheeks. He looks hauntingly beautiful in the pale light.

“My, my, you do look like a proper white Lady in your wedding gown.” He says in a low voice as he steps over to embrace me.

As we ride across the fields, the hooves of the black stallion sound almost distant. Exhaustion invades my whole body. I lean my head back upon Andrew’s shoulder and slip away into sleep, dreaming of our life together.

***

Slowly, I open my eyes. It’s still dark, but there is now little moonlight and a steady drizzle of rain is soaking into my clothing. I run my outstretched arm across the surface beneath me. It’s cold and damp.

It’s dirt.

Promptly, I sit up and look around. I’m in a pit of sorts. One side is made of a grey stone wall and the others are all just dirt embankments. There is a stream rushing into the pit and disappearing amongst the salt and dirt.

Salt. I’m in the salt hole!

I scramble up the sides and stand by the stone wall momentarily, looking around the familiar landscape. I’m not even a mile from the Redhall estate.

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Looking down at myself I discover that I am still in my wedding gown and white cloak. Although my bonnet and case are missing.

I decide to climb over the wall and rush along the road back to the Manor.

As I do, I see an unfamiliar building on My Lady’s Brae to my right. It’s a rather large house and a light can be seen in the window. I wring my hands and the butterflies panic once more in my belly.

I try to console myself and in doing so, try to believe that I have simply fallen, hit my head and become somewhat confused. I will remember everything again, shortly.

I arrive at my home - the gate house. Relief floods through my body and I reach out to open the door when I remember I was to meet Andrew by our spot at the Waterfall.

My fingers lightly touch the handle of the door and I want nothing more than to clamber into bed and sleep but I have to meet Andrew. We have to get on that boat. We have to go to Scotland and be married. Have our baby. Raise our child in peace and love; for that life we cannot have here.

Swiftly, I run across glenhead field. The mud ruining the bottom inches of my wedding gown and cloak.

I slow down to carefully navigate my way through the darkness of the wood before reaching the top of the waterfall. I huddle at the base of an old oak tree, seeking protection from the rain and wait.

I wait, alone, until dawn. With every passing hour, a worse scenario of what has held my darling Andrew away from me, fills my mind.

I begin to scour the woodland and walk along paths I know him to take, until I reach the Manor. It’s a large and imposing building with a tower that is higher than the tree tops.

There is no sign of him anywhere.

I hurry through the gardens, which somehow seems more filled with roses and tall stemmed flowers than I recall it had yesterday. But I do not have time to dwell on it. I must find Andrew.

I enter the house through my usual door at the back and in the kitchen. I am greeted with a sight most unusual. The kitchen looks completely different and there are many strange foods laid upon the counters. A man I have never seen before is stirring a huge pot in the corner. I hear footsteps coming down the stairs so I step into the shadows to conceal my presence.

“Lord Ker says Lady Maddelena doesn’t feel well enough to eat.” It’s a woman who appears in the kitchen, holding a bowl of chopped fruit.

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The man who had been stirring the pot, stops and turns around looking irritated, “Does she ever!”

Who are all these people? Visitors perhaps that arrived in the night?

With their backs turned I sprint up the stairs and into the main hall. It looks entirely different from yesterday. As does every room I pass in and out of. I recognise none of the furnishings and even less, the paintings of people hung on the walls.

Wiping tears from my face, I rush home, wanting nothing more than the calming embrace of my sister and the soft reassuring voice of my mother.

I am shocked to see that as I reach the gate house, everything looks different here too: there are tall hedges, neatly trimmed; a garden with a fancy gate and very life-like wooden dolls to the left with a cup and teapot between them. The house itself is now bigger and the door has been left ajar.

I walk through and see a house that is filled with fine furniture. There are many doorways, leading to many rooms. In one room, a table is set with fancy lace, painted cups and teapot and there is a strange object making the sound of people talking although, I understand little of what it says.

Walking back through the house where only yesterday, I kissed my little sister’s brow, I hear voices above me. Eager to hear what they say, I make my way up the stairs. I sit outside the doorway and peer into a room where I see a large cot and a baby asleep. Instinctively, I place my hand on my swollen belly and think of my own baby within.

“Lord MacAuley will be here any minute, now put on your shoes!” A woman says to a small girl who is clearly annoyed, but does as she is bid.

Who is Lord MacAuley? I think to myself but I am pulled sharply from my thoughts as there is a rush of noise from downstairs.

“That’s him now!” The woman cries, “Quick, quick, quick! Oh where did I leave your bonnet?!”

I dash downstairs and out the back door before someone discovers me. It’s dusk now already and I feel compelled to return to the waterfall.

For two full nights and days I walk the estate in search of my family and beloved Andrew. The buildings change so rapidly and keep growing in number. Beyond the estate, the village of Templecorran has turned from a tiny village to a place full of houses and people.

It seems as though everytime I turn around, the world becomes more foreign to me than it was only a few days ago.

I sit at the water’s edge near Laharna lough, remembering the tender touch of my beloved.

I watch as the sun slips away behind the glens, it’s last rays of light bathe the land and Page 7

water in a warm orange glow. My body feels weary as I rise and start the lonely walk back to the Manor.

As I approach glenhead field, I hear the sound of many children laughing. Placing a hand upon my belly and smiling, I walk forward until I can see them. They are young boys and all smartly dressed in green uniforms. They sit around a fire and hold strange objects emitting a bright light. They have tents, pitched merely yards from where they have gathered. I study their activity from the shadows of the wood and I listen to their storytelling.

“She walks from where she was murdered, to where he dumped her body,” One of the boys say, “every night, just as it’s getting dark.”

“That is nonsense!” Another boy says and laughs. The rest all join in.

“My aunt knows the McClintock’s, who own Redhall, and they have seen her!”

The other boys just continue to laugh.

Intrigued by their conversation, I step out of the shadows and walk towards them, intent on asking them questions.

“Hello.” I say and they turn to look in my direction.

“It’s the White Lady!” Several of them scream and all flee to their tents.

My head begins to spin, I feel uncontrollable tears roll down my cheeks and I want to flee this place. I run towards the gate-house with my vision blurred by tears and my limbs shaking.

Suddenly, there is blinding light hurtling towards me and a noise I don’t recognise. Startled, I fall backwards and stare at the huge object as it passes in front of me. I stand up and stare at it in confusion and awe. It comes to a halt a short distance away. A man in strange clothing opens a door and steps out.

He looks at me and gasps, “The White Lady.”

I turn and flee across the fields, with no idea where I am heading. I just keep running for I fear if I stop I will fall apart. What has happened, what is this world I am in trapped in?

I run further and further until suddenly I am flying through the air and then with a thud I land in the damp dirt.

I groan and look around. I recognise it. It’s the salt hole.

All at once, there is an overwhelming sharp pain in my gut and in my head. I feel like I’m being pulled backwards through time. Everything is moving so fast before my eyes. Voices screaming in my head. I see the black stallion and my beloved’s hand reaching out to me.

And I remember everything.

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***

“My, my, you do look like a proper white Lady in your wedding gown.” Andrew said in a low voice as he stepped over to embrace me.

He pulled me in close with his left arm and I happily threw both of mine around his neck, breathing in his scent.

I gasped out in pain and looked down at my belly to where he had plunged the knife in. He pushed it in further and further again. I could taste blood in my mouth and feel it dripping down my chin.

When he finally removed the knife, I collapsed to my knees, my hands becoming bloody as I tried to stop the bleeding.

He dragged my limp body over to the stallion. I just wanted to sleep, but the pain of him moving my body was too overbearing, too great.

He threw me upon the horse and seated himself behind me, keeping me in place until he reached the salt hole.

I remember the feeling of being taken off the horse. I remember feeling him roll my body down the dirt embankment into the pit.

I remember hearing the last words ever to be spoken to me while I was alive, “Goodbye, my White Lady.”

***

Over the centuries, there have been many sightings of the White Lady of Redhall, who everynight, walks from the salt hole to where she was murdered by her beloved.