The dining room of the Blackstone Hotel is unremarkable, much the same as any provincial hotel dining room that is past its prime. Cheap fading pictures adorn the walls, the furniture is well made but slightly scuffed and the odour of countless dinners and lunches lingers in the air unpleasantly. In the kitchen, the breakfast service is being finalised. Tea and coffee is brewing, bacon, eggs and kippers are being taken from the hotel refrigerator, and porridge is being warmed on the hotel's range.
Upstairs in their rooms, the characters awake. The lightening sky outside is leaden but the torrential rain has ceased, replaced by a persistent drizzle. It is 7.30am.
For Rosa Only,Your night has been extremely troubled. If the doubts put into your head by the photograph about your parentage weren't bad enough, you have had the most extraordinary and unsettling dream.
In the dream you were dancing within a stone circle. Your very movements were strange: you held your arms to the side, leaping and whirling. Yet you executed the steps without thinking, your body moving instinctively, as though you had known the dance all your life. In the middle of the circle was a figure holding a shining knife above a human sacrifice. As the figure brought the knife down, you woke up.
For Helen Only,Your night has been extremely troubled. If the doubts put into your head by the photograph about your parentage weren't bad enough, you have had the most extraordinary and unsettling dream.
You were lying down. There was a familiar, comforting smell around you, although you couldn't place it. Then you realized: the smell was soil. You felt enclosed, safe and warm. When you opened your eyes, you see only soil; and when you opened your mouth, soil rushed in. Yet you could still breathe. You were not scared. You sunk deeper and deeper into the earth, feeling
safer and safer.
Then, you woke up.
For Exeter Only,Your night has been extremely troubled. If the doubts put into your head by the photograph about your parentage weren't bad enough, you have had the most extraordinary and unsettling dream.
In the dream you were dancing within a stone circle. Your very movements were strange: you held your arms to the side, leaping and whirling. Yet you executed the steps without thinking, your body moving instinctively, as though you had known the dance all your life. In the middle of the circle was a figure holding a shining knife above a human sacrifice. As the figure brought the knife down, you woke up.
For Dr Laws Only,Your night has been extremely troubled. If the doubts put into your head by the photograph about your parentage weren't bad enough, you have had the most extraordinary and unsettling dream.
You were standing inside a stone circle. Others danced around you, with bizarre, ritualistic movements, whirling as they held their arms horizontally. When you looked down, you saw your brother Geoffrey lying prostrate beside an open grave. In your hand was a curved, ancient knife of a strange metal. You knew what must do. You sliced Geoffrey's throat, shoulders and calves, with diagonal strokes. Then, thank God, you woke up.
For Pedro Only,You had an untroubled night, though that last whisky chaser you took to bed was probably unwise. You desperately need liquid refreshment and a hearty breakfast.
Upon awakening Helen's first action is to light a cigarette, her second is to get up.
Putting on a Japanese silk dressing gown, a present from an admirer, she moves toward the window and pulls back a corner of a curtain for a look outside. Seeing the change in the weather from persistant rain to less persistant rain she thinks, Oh goody goody another fine day in the paradise of the North.
Angrilly she stubs out the cigarette and begins the process of transformation to acceptability in company.
By 8:30am she is ready to face the day, lighting another of her favorite Turkish cigarettes she leaves her room for the hoped for pleasantries of the Dining Room, having first made sure that her door is securely locked.
Putting on her best celebrity false smile she enters the Dining Room. "Am I first down? How awfully tiring"
We do not see things as they are, we see things as we are.
- Anais Nin
Rosa wakes suddenly, hands raised to fend off her nightmare assailant. A fearful scream dies in her throat as she realises where she is and she sits in bed for some time, hugging her knees until her heart-rate returns to normal.
After a while, she gets out of bed, pulling on her dressing gown against the chill. Not yet ready to see anyone else, she uses the jug of water and basin to have a quick wash before dressing. Pulling a brush through her hair, she can't help but notice the dark circles under her eyes. Not one to normally bother with make-up, it takes her a little time to find the concealer tucked away in the corner of her toilet bag. As she applies it in the mirror, she can't avoid the haunted look of the reflection staring back at her. She glances out of the window but the dark sky and falling rain do nothing to lighten her mood.
She makes the bed and sits awhile, pondering the dream and the events of the night before, until deciding that breakfast might just take mind off things.
Rosa makes her way downstairs and into the dining room. "'Morning," she says, trying to stifle a yawn. "'How did you sleep?"
At Rosa's greeting Helen peers over the top of the newspaper she has been looking at to pass time. "Morning darling. Despite the awfull bed I slept well, yourself?"
Although it didn't take an expert to recognise a bad nights sleep when one saw it. Of course, she thought to herself using the newspaper to cover her smile, that hagard, tired look could be her natural state.
Folding the paper she indicated the chair opposite her at the table, "Do join me darling" Helen was hoping that if the table was occupied the awful Exeter and his sychophant associate might sit elswewhere.
We do not see things as they are, we see things as we are.
- Anais Nin
"I must admit", says Helen leaning across the table so as not to have to speak too loudly, "That I didn't sleep to well myself, what with odd dreams added to worrying about that silly photograph."
With her usual alacrity she produces a cigarette and fits it to her holder, then with a match torn from a matchbook that bears the name of some club or other, she lights it and drags smoke deep into her lungs.
Holding the lighted match before her she exhales blowing both the smoke from the extinghuished match and the aromatic perfume of the Turkish tobacco straight into Rosa's face, "You don't mind if I smoke", it wasn't a question. "I suggest we have some breakfast, or coffee at least, than see if we can find a library in this god forsaken dump and find out who was the photographer on that picture".
Without waiting a reply Helen swivels in her seat and snaps her fingers at one of the hotel staff. "Coffee, black"
We do not see things as they are, we see things as we are.
- Anais Nin
Rosa coughs and politely waves the smoke away. When the waitress approaches to take their breakfast order, she asks for a cup of tea and says, "'Excuse me, do you happen to have a copy of the local trade directory?"
Exeter woke with a start. He couldn't believe his eyes when he checked the time and tried to go back to sleep again.
Exeter thinking: No decent fellow is up and about at this time of day.
He lets out a loud sigh as he can't seem to find sleep again and gets up, taking his time to get dressed properly for breakfast. Rubbing the required number of tonics and potions on his face and hair, he smiles a reassuring smile at himself in the mirror.
"Now that's a lordly smile if ever I saw one!"
Exeter lights up a breakfast fag and leaves his room, heading down the stairs to coffee and coffee.
"He said we were all cooked but we were all right as long as we did not know it. We were all cooked. The thing was not to recognize it."
The middle-aged waitress approaches with Helen's coffee. She is dressed in the standard black dress with white apron and low-heeled black shoes. Her dark hair is slightly greying and tied back in a bun, with a black and white cap.
She places the coffee in front of Helen. Looking to Rosa she replies "They might have a trades directory at Reception madam, but I might be able to help. What is it you're after?" As she says this she pulls a pencil and notepad out of her apron pocket, ready to take the breakfast order.
Not wanting to give away to much information about the photograph just yet, Rosa replies "I'm looking for a local photographer. Could you be a dear and nip out to Reception and see if they have one?" She smiles winningly and orders tea, toast and marmalade for breakfast.
OOC,[url=http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4267447/]Rosa tries to persuade the waitress to fetch her the trades directory from the hotel reception. (1d6=1)[/url] Dash it all! :oops:
Although it is obvious that the waitress is not adressing her, Helen, says "A decent library, if such a thing exists up here"
Looking at the waitress pencil poised above her pad, "Just the coffee is fine. Now do you know of a library or not?"
We do not see things as they are, we see things as we are.
- Anais Nin
Smiling a patient smile, the waitress says "I'm sorry Madam, I really can't leave my post here but I can answer both your questions anyway. The public library is on the High Street. Turn left out of the hotel and keep walking for about two minutes. It's the big red brick building," and here she looks pointedly at Helen, "on the opposite side of the road. As it happens, Wendall's, the only photographic studio in town, is four doors down from the library on the same side."
Looking down at her notepad she readies her pencil. Now, are you ready to order?"
Pedro appears after Exeter in the dining room. Seeing people in the room, he smiles and says:
Good morning everyone! Hope you all slept well.
He pulls a chair close to Exeter and joins the ladies.
Sorry for my arrogance last night, to leave without say good night. I think the last dose of Whiskey made me feel sick. But about the photograph, is everything is solved?
As first Exeter and then Silva sit down at the table without a simple by your leave, Helen arches her eyebrows and sips the steaming cup of coffee,
Helen thinking: Men, arrogant bastards
.
To the univited table guests she smiles, "We were just discussing that very fact. It would seem that there is a very strong likelyhood that the picture was taken by the local photograpers, Wendalls, and after breakfast Rosa and I shall pay them a visit and see if they can throw any light on the photographs subjects" Helen takes another sip of coffee awaiting the next declaration from his lordship and friend.
We do not see things as they are, we see things as we are.
- Anais Nin
Between the arrival of the two men, Rosa manages to order her pot of tea and toast with marmalade.
"Wendells could be one option," she says. "To be honest, I haven't looked too closely at the mark - everything was a bit of a shock yesterday."Rosa reaches into her bag and brings out the photo, studying the mark to see if the photographer's name is incorporated in it.
Rosa sighs. "There's nothing to suggest a name," she says shortly. She puts the photograph back in her back and looks around, wondering where the waitress has got to with her cup of tea.
"What has everyone got planned for today?" she asks.
