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on one of your little quarrels, then I shall make my retreat,’ interjected Mrs Allen rising from her chair with a yawn.

‘Do you need anything Aunt?’

‘No, no I just need Polly to show me to my room and bed,’ smiled Mrs Allen making her way to the door. ‘Perhaps you should take a little lie down as well Kitty; you can’t really have got much sleep in the car.’

‘I am not tired Aunt; indeed I rather thought I might take a little look around the place.’

‘On your own? Are you certain you are ready for it dear; one never knows what memories might surface and I shouldn’t want you getting yourself upset?’

‘I am sure I shall be fine Aunt, there is no need to worry about me,’ smiled Kitty, rather thinking that she would prefer to take her first tour of the house on her own. It was strange but she seemed to have lost her fear of being met by old and forgotten memories the very moment she had stepped foot into the house; indeed her trepidation had been replaced by a sudden eagerness to see every inch of it and as such she soon found herself pacing the corridors and peeping through doorways with a rising feeling of exhilaration rushing through her.

Polly had not been exaggerating when she had said there was much to do; and indeed the majority of the wings Kitty found in the state of desertion that she had been expecting when she first walked in. She drifted past whole rooms draped in white sheets; the clicking of her heels against the dusty floors a solitary and strange sound as it filled the empty space around her; a space it seemed to Kitty that had long forgotten the stirrings of human life.

It was almost as if the house was asleep and Kitty suddenly felt herself oddly annoyed with it for not sharing anything with her. Yes she had been afraid before, had delayed this moment; however she was here now and ready more so for whatever it wished to reveal. Yet there was nothing; nothing but still rooms that might have belonged to any house in the country.

As she wandered into yet another bare room, Kitty found herself seized by a sudden need to wake it all up, to let it know that she was here. Without even really thinking what she was doing, she found herself walking rather purposefully towards the solitary piece of furnishing in this vast room and quite abruptly lifting off the white sheet to reveal a stunning grand black pianoforte underneath. As she let the drape fall to the floor, Kitty found her fingers hovering tentatively above the back and white keys that had been left so long untouched, a part of her suddenly afraid to bring them down. Perhaps this was a mistake; perhaps she should leave it to another day when her Aunt was with her. She was on the verge of turning around, of merely leaving the room to its unshared silence, when almost unconsciously she let one finger slip and strike a resonating C minor!

The note seemed to reverberate a hundred fold through the hollow air around her, and Kitty felt an odd shiver run through her spine at the sound of it. Yet she found herself bold enough to continue as her fingers almost of their own will began to play out the chords of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5.

Kitty had never deluded herself into believing that she was what could be called an accomplished player, heaven knows she had never had the patience to practice enough for that; however, when on occasion she truly gave herself up to the music that her fingers were creating, she had been known to surprise herself.

Symphony No. 5 was one such piece that she could give herself wholly up to; whenever she heard it she was always reminded of Hoffman’s words of praise for it, ‘leads the listener imperiously forward into the spirit world of the infinite.’ It was what she herself always felt as the climax climbed on and on until that final chord; where even in the moments that lingered after, she was always still caught in that other world. Reaching that point now, Kitty exhaled a gentle sigh as she carefully replaced the white sheet over the pianoforte and with one slow glance at the still empty room walked briskly back to the open doorway.

It seemed Rosevale was intent on sharing nothing with her and perhaps she deserved as much. Yet reaching out for the brass handle to close the door behind her, Kitty found her ears flooded once more by Symphony No. 5; only this time it was not the sound of a lone piano that struck its chords but a whole orchestra!

She glanced sharply back and drew breath as there before her was no longer the empty hall but a decadent ballroom brimming with the sound of music, laughter and lively chatter as the figures of ladies in stunning gowns and dazzling jewels glided effortlessly about the gilded floor as they circled within the arms of their admiring partners. Kitty watched them enviously; oh what it would be to be so finely decked out, to be dancing herself with a fine young gentleman. She would one day, when she was all grown up; but what she was thinking, she was grown up!

Almost instinctively Kitty twirled around so that she was now facing the open hallway where the music carried through the open doors and up the grand staircase to where a girl of four with dark curly hair was staring down wide-eyed over the banisters at the magnificent splendour before her.

How wonderful to be grown up, Kitty thought to herself as she watched the ball in full swing down below, admiring all the elegant ladies in their heavenly dresses. There was one particular gown that she had spotted that she liked above all the others; it was of a damask pink and worn by a very pretty young lady whom Kitty rather thought would make the perfect Elven Princess of her Mama’s most recent story. It was something about her shy gaze as she danced with her handsome partner, something that belied she had no notion of how beautiful she appeared; though Kitty rather thought that he did.


Indeed she was so enraptured by watching the smart young pair that she did not at all notice as a figure crept up behind her; not until a loud ‘Boo!’ echoed through her ears.



‘Michael!’ she exclaimed turning around to meet his laughing hazel eyes with a slightly annoyed expression on her own face. ‘Shh, or they’ll hear you down below.’



‘No they won’t; there is far too much noise,’ he replied rather boredly perusing the scene below as he too leant over the banisters; his gloriously blonde hair sweeping into his eyes.



‘Isn’t this tune lovely,’ sighed Kitty dreamily turning her attention back to the ball.


‘I suppose it’s alright; I’ve heard Mama play it before. Anyway come on back to the nursery; it is boring here.’


‘No it’s not.’



‘You’re not supposed to be here you know; it’s rude to pry.’



‘I am not prying.’



‘Do you even know what it means Kitty?’ asked Michael with a smile.



‘No,’ replied Kitty sulkily. She disliked it when he looked all knowingly at her like that; after all he couldn’t really know that much more than her, he was only three years older.



‘Well then.’



‘I’m only looking and no-one will notice; they are all having far too much fun,’ said Kitty. ‘Besides I want to stay so that I can learn how to dance.’



‘Oh come on Kitty, dancing is boring; come back and play.’



‘No.’



‘If I teach you how to dance, then will you come and play?’ asked Michael.



‘You don’t know how to dance,’ scoffed Kitty.



‘Yes I do, it’s easy. Look,’ he said as he made her a smart little bow and took her hands in his. ‘You place one hand here and the other…’ he cast a quick glance down towards the mass of swirling couples… ‘And one here.’



‘Then what?’ asked Kitty excitedly, her heart pounding within her chest. This was to be her first ever dance; a moment she would forever remember.



‘Well then… then you just twirl around,’ he replied attempting an extremely poor imitation of what one of the gentleman appeared to be doing and proceeding to step on poor Kitty’s foot such that she let out a loud cry of pain.


‘Kitty, Michael!’ came a voice from down below causing them both to startle. ‘What are you both doing up there; you should be in the nursery.’



‘We were just watching the dancing Mama,’ said Kitty in an innocent little voice. ‘We are not doing any harm.’



‘I’m sure you’re not, but you shouldn’t be here,’ smiled Evie, who looked quite radiant in a green silk dress that perfectly matched her emerald eyes. ‘Why not go to the nursery and play; I’m sure you shall have much more fun. I’d gladly escape this dull ball and come with you if I could.’



‘Oh do Evie, do,’ pleaded Michael. ‘It will be much more fun with you.’



‘I’m afraid I can’t; duties call.’



‘What if we kidnapped you?’ smiled Michael.



‘I should have to scream very loudly and protest,’ laughed Evie. ‘Such that I am sure that even one of these poor specimens might manage a rescue.’



‘I’m not so certain; they look a pretty cowardly bunch to me,’ replied Michael.


‘Let us not put them to the test; now away with you both.’



‘Oh must we go Mama?’ sighed Kitty. ‘It’s all so lovely to watch.’



‘Go and play Kitty whilst you still can; there are years ahead of you for balls like these,’ said Evie ushering them back up the stairs and readying her smile for the throng once more.



‘It’s all your fault we were caught,’ sulked Kitty trailing behind Michael as they made their way back to the nursery. ‘I was watching quiet as a mouse before you came.’



‘Oh do stop moaning Kitty; girls are so annoying when they moan,’ he called from far ahead of the corridor.



Kitty pulled a face behind him, then turned back to take one last glance at the party below. She could see her mother hovering at the open doorway to the ballroom; her beautiful auburn curls glistening almost a deep red in the light of the chandelier. Then she saw a figure appear beside her; a gentleman’s figure although as he was stood in the shadow Kitty couldn’t see his face. He had a glass in one hand and he appeared to be leaning over to whisper something in her mother’s ear. Evie instantly made to return to the ball, however, the gentleman caught hold of her arm and drew her rather roughly back into the hallway. Her interest caught, Kitty hovered where she stood; though they were now out of view she could hear their raised voices clearly.



‘I have guests to attend to,’ she heard her mother saying.



‘What, you cannot even spare a moment for me; I am a guest too after all?’ came the gentleman’s voice. Kitty knew it was familiar to her; indeed she rather thought it was a voice she knew exceedingly well, however, for some reason right now she couldn’t place it.


‘Not when you have clearly had too much to drink; you’ll only say something you shall regret, so

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