CHAPTER 2:
REALIZATION:
The Sun was shining the birds were chirping and a warm, sweet-smelling breeze wafted its way into her room, nudging her slowly awake from a deep, dreamless sleep.
Sarah stretched her hand out towards her bedside table to turn on the lamp but encountered the softest of silk against her fingertips. She sighed contentedly with eyes half closed. She was feeling more comfortable than she had ever felt on her lumpy little single bed mattress and was loathe to wake up. She stretched out her arms and legs like a preening cat, oblivious to everything but the feel of the comfy mattress cushioning her body.
But unfortunately the last vestiges of sleep were fast deserting her and she had no choice but to reluctantly turn onto her back and open her eyes.
Her scream was loud enough to shake the walls. It took her a whole minute to shut up. Where in blazes was she? Sarah's head moved around in every direction like she was having an epiplectic seizure.
Above her was a billowing mass of crimson material worked into an intricate tent-like shape tethered to four posters of a massive bed that all but swallowed her up. She felt like Goldilocks in the big papa bear's bed. It lay in the centre of a cavernous room that looked big enough to house a tennis court. An imposing fireplace large enough to cook all of London's Doners in one go stood at one end of the room with a thick rug and a bulky, high-backed chair lying in front of it.
At the foot of the bed she could just about make out a large rectangular wooden chest and on her other side next to some tall red curtains stood a giant wardrobe. It seemed she had been plopped right into the middle of Henry the VIII's boudoir, complete with imposing grey-stone walls and a massive vaulted ceiling.
Barely had she calmed her racing heart or so much as released the heavy covers that she clutched protectively against her neck that the door slammed open and a dumpy little woman came running into the room. Sarah would have screamed again but her throat was pretty dry from her last bout and all she could muster was a scared little whimper.
"What is it milady?" the woman asked agitatedly, "Are ye feeling unwell?"
"Calm down, calm down calm down......." Sarah kept on reciting that refrain to herself.
Where was a paper bag when you needed it? She was starting to hyperventilate and that was definitely not a good sign.
Who the hell was this woman? and why was she dressed like a peasant from an ITV documentary on the Middle-Ages? She looked almost as scared as Sarah did herself, more so in-fact with her tiny hands wringing and her brown almond eyes wide with fear. Think! Sarah told herself, where could she possibly be and why.
Had she been kidnapped while she slept? She tried racking her brain but all she remembered was talking to a strange man on the street and getting herself fired. She vaguely recalled stumbling into her studio apartment in Ealing and collapsing onto the bed but nothing else came to mind.
Maybe she had been drugged she thought but she didn't feel woozy in the slightest and she didn't have a hangover. So it couldn't be alcohol or drugs. Then why was she lying here in this massive bed with a tiny woman hovering over her like a flustered chicken.
"What is the matter Milady? Why will ye not answer me?"
The "will ye not" had Sarah giggling. Unfortunately it made the other woman look just about ready to faint. Sara squelched her wayward sense of humor and quickly made to reassure her.
"It's alright um............ maid.... I just, just," Sarah couldn't think of a single excuse, she had never ever called a woman a maid before but some form of address was better than none at all, at least speaking seemed to calm the poor woman down somewhat. Now for the excuse, "I just had a ......bad dream." Eureka! Sarah congratulated herself on her not-so-fast thinking.
"That is a relief milady; ye gave me a terrible fright with that scream. I almost swooned dead away." The woman said in a mousy little voice with an uncertain smile pasted on her face.
"Fright" "Swooned" whatever was the matter with the woman Sarah wondered uneasily. It didn't bode too well for her if her kidnapper was a nut case. But looking at the tiny woman Sara doubted very much that the poor thing would be capable of kidnapping her.
Apart from the physical aspect this woman was definitely too timid to carry out such a crime, in fact she very much doubted this woman could even serve as an accomplice. No, Kidnapping was definitely out of the equation.
Maybe she was dreaming Sarah thought hopefully. Maybe this was all some kind of elaborate dream that she had concocted. She just hadn't woken up yet. Yes that was obviously it, hadn't she watched that movie about Henry the VIII and his wives the other night maybe she had enjoyed it a bit too much. All she needed to do was give herself a nice little pinch to wake herself up. With supreme confidence Sarah lowered her hand under the covers and pinched her bum "Owwww" she yelped.
The other woman jumped a foot in the air. She looked about ready to "swoon dead away" again and Sarah didn't have the expertise to deal with a heart attack so she decided to blag it out. Acting as blasé as she could manage Sarah looked the woman straight in the eyes and asked innocently,
"Why am I in bed at this hour?"
Sarah was almost certain that it was pretty late in the afternoon because the Sun shining outside beyond the shuttered window was much too bright for morning.
"D' ye not remember milady, ye had a terrible fall. The 'hole castle was in an uproar. Lady Catherine is in the chapel praying fer yer recovery while the Baron 'as been pacin' the solar all morning, everyone 'as been worried sick."
Lady Catherine? Castle folk? Baron? SOLAR? What the hell was this woman yapping about; Sarah couldn't make head or tail of the whole thing. Maybe she had died, Sarah thought. Perhaps that was the answer, ridiculous as it may sound at that moment Sarah actually considered that unlikely possibility as a plausible explanation. But that train of thought led her to another conundrum, "Was this heaven or hell?"
There was no fire or brimstone in sight so it was probably safe to say it wasn't hell. That left heaven, but there were no angels in white robes and where the hell was her halo, surreptitiously she raised her hand to her head only to encounter her messed up hair. No it couldn't possibly be heaven, she was still a healthy size ten under the covers and Sarah was pretty sure that the first thing she would have done in heaven would have been to demand a body like Naomi Campbell and a face like Charlize Theron.
Suddenly the door opened again and in came her mother looking like the lady of the manor. She looked better than she had ever done before and it took Sarah a whole minute to say anything. For a moment she doubted this vision really was her mother, for one she had two thick braids lying across her chest like silvery blonde ropes, secondly her waist was tiny cinched in at the middle by a tight fitting gown. It was a deep Burgundy color and was made of some kind of rich velvety cloth. Her skirt flared from her hips falling to the ground in intricate pleats and swathes of fabric. She looked just like the good witch in the wizard of Oz all decked out in at least 20 yards of fabric.
But the face hadn't changed, younger perhaps but it was definitely her mother. She had the same green eyes that Sarah had herself along with the fair alabaster skin and high cheekbones that her daughter had also inherited.
Oh yes it definitely was her mother Sarah assured herself before rushing into speech,
"Mother I am so glad you are here. Where am I? How did I get here?" Sarah asked desperately, trying to reign in her panic. It couldn't possibly be all bad could it? Her mother was here wasn't she, there had to be an explanation. But Catherine didn't answer; instead she stared at Sarah with a quizzical frown. Anxiously she looked back at the man who had just entered the room behind her. He was scrawny, slightly hunched back and had a thin squiggly white beard jutting out from his pointy chin like an old Billy goat.
"What is the matter with her?"
"I am not certain milady." the man replied, "I can not be sure until I fully examine her. After all falling off a horse is no paltry matter. There is bound to be an imbalance of the humors." The old goat drawled importantly, waiting expectantly for her ladyship to give the word.
Sarah didn't like the glint in the old coot's eye; the dodgy codger looked frail enough to be knocked over by a falling leaf yet more than willing to carry out a thorough physical examination.
"Better stay back grandpa or you'll end up with a lot more than a bent back." Sarah threatened ominously, watching with satisfaction as the wrinkly old scarecrow nervously backed up a few steps.
"When did she wake up, Glenda?" Catherine asked the maid, completely ignoring her frustrated daughter who had had just about had enough of being spoken of in the third person.
"A little while ago Milady, Lady Sarah screamed something fierce so I rushed into the room........"
But Catherine was listening to the maid with only half an ear, she quickly made her way to her daughter's bed, "How do you feel child? Does your head pain you?" she asked running anxious hands over Sarah's arms and legs, making sure there were no broken bones.
"No it does not." Sara said exasperated, "I feel absolutely fine and I am just about sick of this freak show. If this is a practical joke it's getting really old really fast." Sarah finished indignantly not realizing that the other occupants of the room were looking at her with a mixture of bafflement and worry as if she had suddenly grown two heads.
Sarah noticed the little maid Glenda make a sign of the cross and whisper something under her breath while her mother seemed to recoil. Something was definitely fishy here, they were all staring at her strangely and Sarah didn't like it one bit.
Her mother was the first to recover, "why is she speaking in tongues?"
"Speaking in tongues" Sarah almost laughed out loud, what were they on about now? Did they think she was crazy? it sure looked like it.
Sarah was fast developing a splitting headache and was on the very brink of screaming with frustration when a spark, a small memory exploded in her brain.
She suddenly remembered a fat old man in a Santa outfit, a man she had spoken to, a man who had asked her a single question. No it couldn't be, had that guy really been Santa Claus? Ridiculous as it may sound Sarah was starting to believe it was actually true. Nothing else could explain this situation, the room, the furniture, the maid and even her mother seemed different, Frighteningly different.
Had Santa actually granted her wish? that stupid wish she had blurted out more as a sarcastic joke than anything else. Dear God was she actually in some kind of castle, and if so which castle? Where? Whose castle? A million questions circled in her head making her feel dizzy.
So dizzy in fact that she didn't really catch the heated conversation her mother was having with the old guy, she ignored them in flavor of her own musings until she heard the words "bleeding" and "leeches" mentioned in the same sentence; a clueless idiot she may be but even Sarah knew that both those words could never be used in the same sentence and mean something good.
"Yes I think bleeding would be an excellent idea," her mother said satisfied, "Hurry Glenda, fetch the leeches and then inform my husband that Sarah has come around. The poor dear has been worried sick."
LEECHES! Sarah almost fainted on the spot. Were these people mad or just kidding? Sarah had a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach when she realised that everyone seemed deadly serious. In fact the little maid spun around to dash out of the room as commanded. If Sarah didn't take drastic action at once she would be getting some unwelcome friends for supper with HER as the main course. She needed to get out of this mess and fast.
"No mother....um that is unnecessary. I am feeling quite alright now." Sarah said, trying her best to sound convincing, "I am just tired. Maybe I should have some more rest."
Lady Catherine looked sceptical to say the least, but Sarah gave her her best "butter wouldn't melt in my mouth look" and it seemed to have a favourable affect.
"Perhaps you are right child. Maybe you do need more rest." Catherine murmured, calling back the maid from the door. "Would you like a tonic darling, to make you sleep better?"
Sarah had no idea what a tonic was and she had no intention of finding out. She didn't trust ancient medicinal remedies one bit, especially not after the business with the leeches, so she vigorously shook her head. "No thank you, mother."
She needed to get these people out of the room before she lost it completely. Somehow Sarah mustered a fake yawn to get them moving. It worked a charm; Catherine smiled maternally and stood up.
"Come along Henry, we best be leaving."
She kissed Sarah lightly on top of her head and walked sedately towards the door followed closely by Glenda and the healer. "Sleep now child everything will be better when you wake up."
Now where had she heard that before? Sarah thought vehemently. She made a solemn vow never to sleep again.