A Castle in the Air.

Clutching her aching jaw Bea rang the dentist's doorbell. The dental nurse who opened the door looked at her sympathetically and showed her into the waiting room. Bea was worn out, the abcess or whatever it was had started in the night and despite taking painkillers she'd been unable to sleep. She sat down and to take her mind off the pain she picked up a magazine and began to leaf through it. She glanced at a page and the shock of what she saw nearly made her forget her current woes. The picture she was looking at was at the centre of an advert. It was a castle. Her castle. It couldn't be but it was, even to the terraced gardens that sloped down to a river.

Since she was small Bea had had a recurring dream. Her dream featured a castle whose flags and pennants fluttered in the breeze of a glorious day. The atmosphere in her dream was of joyous anticipation. In one of the gardens and facing the river stood a young girl. She wore a flowing golden dress and her long hair was held by a band of the same colour. She held a posy of flowers of a curious oblong shape and whose colours went from pale cream to pale pink. A whippet stood beside her. Her eyes were alight with love and longing. Below her a boat appeared dressed with the same flags and pennants as those flying above the castle. A young man stood in the bows. He was tall and fair haired and wore dark hose and a tabard made of a rich brocade. A short dark blue velvet cape matched the velvet hat with a white plume that he waved wildly as soon as he saw the girl. He leapt onto the bank and ran towards her. She flew into his arms. It was always at this moment that Bea woke up.

Still under the shock of seeing "her castle", she barely heard the dentist tell her to take the painkillers and anti-biotics that he was prescribing and to return in a week's time. Bea went home, took her pills, rang the bank where she worked to book sick and her mother to let her know, curled up under her duvet and fell asleep.

Bea was a modern young woman in her early thirties, with short, highlighted,chestnut hair and hazel eyes. She wore designer clothes when she could afford them. She was a financial advisor in one of the big banks. She rented a flat in a small, new block. Her recurring dream had puzzled her but she felt that it was just one of those unexplained things. It had shaken her that the place in her dream appeared to exist.

The doorbell woke her several hours later. The caller was her next door neighbour Marise.
"Did you know that the top flat has been let?" she enquired.
"No", Bea was still muzzy with the medication,"what about it?"
Marise clutched her chest as though struggling with a strong emotion. She continued."The new tenant is a super dishy Italian. By the looks of the uniform that he was wearing he works for an airline. I met him on the stairs and he really is drop down gorgeous. He has a wonderful smile and deep brown eyes."
Marise was newly divorced and on the hunt again.
"Marise, you'll have to excuse me. I feel lousy. I'm so glad that you have seen someone who appeals to you and that he is going to be living here."
Bea closed the door on her excited neighbour. She shook her head carefully. Marise would never change. Why should she? Bea had had several love affairs and a recent one had ended badly. She felt that she needed some time out before letting another man into her life

Days later she met the new tenant as she was leaving for work. He was good looking without a doubt. Tall with fair hair, he was wearing designer jeans and jacket. He held the main door open for her and smiled. True, it was a wonderful smile.A month later she found an invitation in her letter box. It was for a small drinks party to be held in the top flat. It was signed by a Lorenzo Siri.

Marise was beside herself with excitement. The whole block had been invited as a sort of "get to know you" gesture, and of course Bea had to go. Bea was not so sure but decided that it would appear churlish if she didn't. After all, she didn't have to stay long. On the evening of the party Bea followed Marise up the stairs to the top flat. The front door was open and the two of them joined their other neighbours. Bea collected a drink from the kitchen and went into the living room. This was tastefully furnished but what stopped her in her tracks next to a dark blue armchair, was a photo on a unit in front of her. The castle. Her castle with a group of smiling people in front of it. At the centre of the group was a white haired lady in a basket weave chair. Bea felt Lorenzo standing behind her. Keeping her voice as steady as she could she asked,"Is this your home?"
He came to stand beside her. "Yes it is and these are my family,my mother,mybrother and his wife,their two sons and my sister. We are wine growers." His voice was soft with an Italian accent.
"Have you lived there long" Bea did her best to control the quaver in her voice.
"The castle has been in my family for over 500 years! My brother and his sons run the business. When I am not flying with my airline I like to spend as much time as I can there. It is not far from Rome." Bea could hear the pride in his voice but was disconcerted by the intensity of his look. She sat down hurriedly and Lorenzo went back to his guests.

Weeks later Bea came down to the front hall to collect her post. Standing by the letter boxes was a small dark haired woman, puzzling over an underground map. She sighed and looked helplessly at Bea.
"Can you help me? I need Piccadilly Circus.How do I go there?"
Bea looked at her. Where had she seen her before?
"Oh, so sorry, I am Pia Siri, Lorenzo's sister" she said, holding out her hand.
It fell into place. The photo of the castle. Bea shook hands and rxplained how to get to Piccadilly Circus.
That same evening Pia rang Bea's doorbell.
"Thank you for your help this morning. I would have been totally lost and I had an important meeting."
"Would you like to come in for a moment, I have just made some tea?"
Pia accepted with alacrity. Bea surprised by her own gesture decided that Pia in London was way out of her depth.
"I am in London for a little while. I work for an art gallery in Rome and we are interested in a big auction of paintings taking place next week. I would also like to visit some of your museums and art galleries. Lorenzo is away so I use his flat" Pia explained in a rush of confidentiality.
Bea took a sudden liking to this small bubbly person with her dark curls. She shared her brother's eyes and his smile. By the time they had finished a second cup of tea Bea had made a decision that astonished her. She would take a few days leave and take Pia round the major museums and art galleries. She knew them well as she had a great love of art herself. In the days that followed Bea discovered that Pia had a wicked sense of humour, a sense of the ridiculous and that she was great company. When Pia left for home they exchanged phone numbers and E-mail addresses. As Easter drew near Bea recieved an E-mail from Pia asking her to join her in Rome for the long Easter weekend. Why not she asked herself and accepted

Pia took Bea on a whirlwind tour of Rome. They crammed everything they could into the days. On Easter Sunday Pia took Bea to the castle to have lunch with her family. Bea went with trepidation. To her surprise the family seemed genuinely pleased to meet Pia's English friend.After lunch Bea wandered into the gardens and looked back at the castle. It did look like the castlr in her dream but her dream was set at a different time. While musing about it she came across a small sunken garden. At its centre was a statue of a young girl in a flowing dress with a wide band round her hair. She carried a posy of flowers and by her side stood a whippet. The statue was facing the river. Bea studied the statue's face. The girl bore a resemblance to the girl in her dream. Pia appeared beside her.
"I see that you have found Amelia" she said.
"Who was she?" Bea said, intrigued.
"She came from an old Venetian family as a bride for my ancestor Lorenzo. In those days marriages were often arranged, but in this case the prospective partners were lucky as they fell deeply in love. That particular Lorenzo was a great traveller and it is said that when he came home just before the wedding, Amelia was waiting for him just about here. Tragedy then struck as she died of a mysterious illness the day before the wedding. Lorenzo was heartbroken. He commissioned the statue and took off on his travels again. It was his wish that each time he came home by the river he could see Amelia waiting for him. Giacomo, our gardener, is a great romantic and has always been touched by this sad story. He keeps Amelia's garden in beautiful condition."
"What are the flowers that she is holding?" Bea asked.
"I don't know. I can only assume that they existed at that time. These are similar but not exactly the same" Pia said, pointing to the pale cream and pink flowers around the statue.

Bea returned to London both puzzled and in some turmoil. What did it all mean? Why had she had that recurring dream of a place that actually existed and of people who had lived and loved so long ago. It could not be mere chance that she had felt a strong attraction to the castle and, for such a short visit, had felt at home with its inhabitants. She had also been deeply touched by Amelia and Lorenzo's story. It was just a dream she kept telling herself. She was quite happy with her life wasn't she? The trouble was that she thought about Lorenzo all the time. She felt deeply attracted by him, found herself listening for his footsteps in the flat above her when he was at home and missing them when he was away. She was disturbed by the strength of her feelings. She knew that Lorenzo was single. Pia had revealed that he had had several affairs that had come to nothing. According to her he seemed to be waiting.

In the top flat Lorenzo's thoughts turned constantly to Bea. They became a strong tide he could not resist. He had never felt about another woman the way he felt about her although all he knew about her he had gleaned from Pia. She had told him about the trip to London, Bea's help and the days they had shared in Rome and the visit to their family home.

One late spring evening Lorenzo rang her doorbell. When she opened the door he was standing there, a spray of cream and pink flowers in his hand. On his face a quizzical expression that turned into a smile.
"Thank you for helping Pia" he said handing her the flowers.

She looked into his face and as she took his posy she realised how deeply she was in love with him and that he too loved her. In her mind's eye she thought that she could see Amelia smiling at her.

Copyright Jacqueline Hastings 2010