The Ghouls Of Calle Goya E-Book

Owen Jones

• Herausgeber: Tektime
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Seitenzahl: 413

Beschreibung

Londoner Frank marries Joy, a beautiful young Thai, who works in town. She has always dreamed of going to the Costa del Sol, so they head to an apartment in Fuengirola loaned by Frank’s boss for their dream honeymoon.
Things start to go wrong when Joy fears that the apartment is haunted. Fear leads to depression and deepens into terror. Frank has no idea what to do, except take her back to her family in Thailand, but that brings its own misfortune.
Life finally looks brighter because of the intervention of a secret Scandinavian society.
This is the story of how Evil can result from good intentions. It is a fantasy, but based on true events.

Leseprobe

THE

GHOULS

OF

CALLE GOYA

A Salutary Tale of Good Intentions and Evil Deeds

by

Owen Jones

Copyright © October, 2020 Owen Jones

Fuengirola, Spain, and Bangkok, Thailand

The right of Owen Jones to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright Designs and Patents Act 1988. The moral right of the author has been asserted.

In this work of fiction, the characters and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or they are used entirely fictitiously. Some places may exist, but the events are completely fictitious.

Table of Contents

1 LAKE MJØSA, NORWAY

2 THE SEDOLFSENS’ ANNUAL BALL

3 THE 100th APPRENTICES’ NIGHT

4 FRANK AND JOY

5 LA RESIDENCIA ‘HOME FROM HOME’

6 THE BEACH

7 FUENGIROLA SOUTHWEST

8 LOS BOLICHES

9 PARANOIA

10 THAILAND

11 JOY’S SISTER

12 BEW

13 GOING UP COUNTRY

14 BAAN LEK

15 LIVING WITH MUM

16 COVENTRY

17 AWKWARD TIMES

18 BOO’S DEN

19 UPS AND DOWNS

20 THE VISA RUN

21 THE FOG BEGINS TO LIFT

22 GETTING MARRIED AGAIN, AND AGAIN

23 LONDON

24 THE GOYA SOCIETY FOR TRUTH AND BEAUTY

25 THE LETTER

26 EPILOGUE

THE DISALLOWED

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

The Ghouls of Calle Goya

A Salutary Tale of Good Intentions and Evil Deeds

By Owen Jones

Published by

Megan Publishing Services

http://meganthemisconception.com

eBook, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your sole use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

DEDICATION

This edition is dedicated to my wife, Pranom Jones, for making my life as easy as she can - she does a great job of it. Our daughter, Chalita, has been incredibly kind to us during the creation of this book, which is based on elements of truth on more than one level.

Aliya created the cover artwork.

Karma will repay everyone in just kind.

INSPIRATIONAL QUOTES

Believe not in anything simply because you have heard it,

Believe not in anything simply because it was spoken and rumoured by many,

Believe not in anything simply because it was found written in your religious texts,

Believe not in anything merely on the authority of teachers and elders,

Believe not in traditions because they have been handed down for generations,

But after observation and analysis, if anything agrees with reason and is conducive to the good and benefit of one and all, accept it and live up to it.

Gautama Buddha

------

Great Spirit, whose voice is on the wind, hear me. Let me grow in strength and knowledge.

Make me ever behold the red and purple sunset. May my hands respect the things you have given me.

Teach me the secrets hidden under every leaf and stone, as you have taught people for ages past.

Let me use my strength, not to be greater than my brother, but to fight my greatest enemy – myself.

Let me always come before you with clean hands and an open heart, that as my Earthly span fades like the sunset, my Spirit shall return to you without shame.

(Based on a traditional Sioux prayer)

CONTENTS

1 Lake Mjøsa, Norway

2 The Sedolfsens’ Annual Ball

3 The 100th. Apprentices’ Night

4 Frank and Joy

5 La Residencia ‘Home from Home’

6 The Beach

7 Fuengirola Southwest

8 Los Boliches

9 Paranoia

10 Thailand

11 Joy’s Sister

12 Bew

13 Going Up Country

14 Baan Lek

15 Living with Mum

16 Coventry

17 Awkward Times

18 Boo’s Den

19 Ups and Downs

20 The Visa Run

21 The Fog Begins to Lift

22 Getting Married Again, and Again

23 London

24 The Goya Society for Truth and Beauty

25 The Letter

26 Epilogue

The Disallowed – Chapter One

About the Author

1 LAKE MJØSA, NORWAY

The old Baron was seated at the large, highly polished, teak and leather desk in his study looking out over the lake before him. He was short for a Norwegian, about five feet eight inches, had distinguished curly grey hair, a rather round face with brown, bespectacled eyes and was dressed casually in a dark green cashmere cardigan, open-necked shirt, and grey flannel trousers, since he was not expecting any visitors until possibly after lunch. The perfect silence was only occasionally broken by the sound of ice cracking on the lake outside or birds foraging for small fish in the shallows. The old castle had stood secluded in its large grounds for five centuries and the current baron had spent all of his time there after finishing his education. Quietness was ingrained in him.

When the long-awaited tap on the door eventually came, he answered it in a surprisingly loud voice.

“Enter! Ah, Maximillian, I hope that you have good news for me”. There was more than a hint of impatience in his voice.

“Yes, Herr Baron, I am certain that I have. The telephone line and the satellite dish have been restored to fully functioning order after the storm last night and the post has been delivered”. Maximillian proffered the silver tray he was carrying to the Baron, who picked up the dozen or so envelopes on it.

“So, that means that telephone, broadband and satellite communications have been completely restored?”

“My tests suggest that that is indeed so, Herr Baron”.

“Very good. Thank you, Maximillian. You may proceed with the preparations. Is everything progressing as planned in that matter?”

“Yes, sir, there are no problems”.

The Baron fanned the letters and the butler left in complete silence, although, before he pulled the door to behind him, he did allow himself one glance at his employer’s face. He thought it an extremely courageous and cheeky thing to do, but he liked to be aware of the Baron’s mood at all times.

Maximillian had been the Baron’s manservant at university in Heidelberg, when they had both been young men. He was German, and was the only person allowed to call him Herr Baron. He was completely trusted by the whole household. They had been together for more than fifty years and they knew each other better than they did their own wives.

The Baron was looking for the heavy, dark-green envelopes that signified that they came from the closest members of his family and the community within which he worked. These he opened with an obvious sense of trepidation, putting the others aside until later. He was smiling as he withdrew the RSVP cards one after the other. There were eight of them. He held them up before him and spoke to an old family portrait.

“The clan is gathering, grandfather Peter. We will be one again and continue the ancient family tradition!”

The walls of the panelled study were lined with family portraits, but there were two in particular that the Baron wanted to view at that moment. However, they were not on display to everyone, not that many people ever made it into the intimacy of his private study anyway. Only a handful of business managers, solicitors, accountants and the like had ever been through its door.

However, the Baron had another room, a secret room, off his office. It had always been there, since the castle was constructed, but along with millions of dollars of other restoration work, it had been brought into the Twenty-first Century with state-of-the-art security, life-support and communication systems. He activated the remote-control device in his pocket and a perfectly hidden panel slid open - silently.

The room was large by any standards. In the centre, stood a perfect, round, table with thirteen matching chairs; a seemingly unnecessary antique chandelier hung over its centre, but its candles could be lit with piezo lighters and doused with puffs of air from canisters of compressed air that were operated by the same remote control. However, it was only ever used on very special occasions because the room was already perfectly illuminated by concealed lighting, which could be adjusted to suit the circumstances. As he entered what he referred to as The Sanctuary, he pressed another button on the remote and half of the opposite wall came to life with a scene from outside the castle. It was a special one-way window, which could be made to give a view or not by passing an electrical charge through the glass.

However, the Baron paid scant attention to the swans foraging on the lake outside. He pushed more buttons, and two other panes of glass were activated revealing his most prized possessions. One oil painting and a sketch in controlled environments became visible. The Baron held up the RSVP cards to the man in the painting and spoke.

“The four-hundredth annual gathering of our clan is about to take place, O Most Revered Ancestor. They have long-tried to deny your connection to our family, but we have never been cowed. We have never denied you and nor will we ever! We know that we are of the same blood and we will keep the faith! Just three more days and we will all be reunited again - I trust that you will be able to honour us with your presence on that auspicious day, even if only for a short while?”

The Baron smiled as he felt that he had been answered in the affirmative silently in his head. He smiled at the wiry-haired, middle-aged gentleman in the picture and again felt an answer. He moved to the woman in the second picture. It was not a portrait, but depicted only one person in the scene. He bowed slightly and clicked his heels in the best way of showing the deepest respect that he knew.

“Revered Ancestors, your will will be done according to our ancient family tradition”. Having said that, he bowed again to each painting, turned on his heels, left The Sanctuary and pressed the button necessary to put the room into lock-down once more with only a barely audible swoosh from the door. He returned to his desk, switched his computer on and called his butler again.

“Maximillian”, he said, “it appears that communications have indeed been restored to normal again. The letters I received this morning indicate that the traditional family gathering will proceed as planned. Be so good as to implement the ancient procedures for the combined four-hundredth gathering and one hundredth special initiation. You have prepared for a dozen initiations before, have you not, Maximillian?”

“That is correct, Herr Baron, this will be the thirteenth time”.

“Your service is much appreciated, Maximillian, not only by myself but by the whole family. Have the new members of staff been appraised of their duties during the gathering and been instructed where they may and may not go during the two days of the celebrations?”

“Yes, sir, everything is as it should be”.

“Accommodation, for our staying guests, food, drink, special needs, etc?”

“Yes, Herr Baron, I have taken care of all those details personally”.

“Is there anything you want me to deal with?”

“No, sir, only those things, about which I know nothing”.

“Very well, you may continue with your duties, Maximillian”.

“Yes, Herr Baron”.

With that, the Baron turned his attention to his everyday business activities and paid the butler no further heed.

∞

The thirty-one staying guests arrived almost at the same time the following afternoon. They arrived in their own vehicles, mostly by car, although two flew in using their own helicopters. There were eleven members of the Inner Circle, four candidates, ten spouses and six teenagers. Spouses were allowed, as were children over thirteen, but they were not classified as Inner Circle, which comprised the Baron, the Baroness and eleven other close friends and family members. The non-Inner Circle guests were kept at a distance from the main purpose of the event. Partners, girlfriends and boyfriends were strictly forbidden.

The eleven other Inner Circle members were all blood relatives, however distant, and they had ten spouses and ten children between them. Four of those children had been selected for ‘special attention’.

At the First-Degree Ceremony, the candidates are willing, but trepidatious, excited, but wary, and those who knew more about what would be happening to them were saying nothing, although their sponsors were hoping that their own apprentice candidates would pass the test and prove that their judgement had not been impaired by the ties of parenthood. If they passed the test, they would become acolytes - aspirants to join the Inner Circle and learn the secrets of its members, when one of them passed on to meet the Great Ancestors.

The Inner Circle members were old but not ancient, and, being rich, they had access to the best medical care anywhere in the world. The Baron, at seventy, was the second youngest on the Board, as the Inner Circle was sometimes called, after his wife, Ingrid, and was its president. His wife was a decade younger and its chairperson. They had not been blessed with children, so they could not populate the Board with their offspring, but they held virtually full control of the group in any case. It was the way that the organisation had been set up four hundred years before.

In actual fact, in many ways its constitution, such as it was, was quite progressive, in that men and women had equal opportunity, but once a leader had been chosen, he or she could be autocratic, if they so wished. The Baron was so well respected because he always listened to dissent and sometimes accepted the opinions of others as superior to his own, but he didn’t have to.

Presidency and chairpersonship of the Board was for life, or as they put it ‘for the duration of the elected person’s life on Earth’. The Baron and Baroness were expected to fulfil their rôles for another ten to twenty years, but no-one felt any resentment about it. He was, after all, the world’s closest living relative to the ‘Revered Ancestor’, as far as they were concerned. Certainly, others claimed ancestry and some could even prove it, but the Norwegian branch considered that they were the only true family, the only ones who truly understood him and the only true holders of the Faith, even though they were not recognised by mainstream historians or anyone else for that matter.

However, that didn’t concern them one jot. They revelled in it. As far as they were concerned, they knew their ancestry and had no regard for the opinions of outsiders. Sometimes, over the centuries, rumours concerning the secret society had slipped out, but they had always been quashed. In the earliest days that would have been achieved by the use of merciless violence, but in the more merciful spirit of modern times, law suites had been just as effective. The Sedolfsen family had access to the most conniving lawyers in the world and were prepared to unleash them at the slightest whiff of scandal.

It didn’t happen very often because newspaper editors knew of the risk they ran if they attacked the Sedolfsens, but a few brave seekers of truth had been bankrupted in the past for trying to expose more than they could prove and the next round of potential exposure was about to begin.

Disgruntled failed potential candidates were the greatest risk. Being young, they often got drunk and revealed details to friends that they should not have. Sometimes, these 'friends’ then sold their stories about the powerful, though secretive Sedolfsens on to the press. It would be during the next month or two that they would be at their most vulnerable. The full celebrations were to last two days. The first day was to include local dignitaries and those from farther afield who could make it, but these guests would not be invited to spend the night. When asked the reason for the annual bash, the answer was always the same.

“Oh, we don’t know why any longer! One of our relatives, er, great times twenty uncle Peter, we think, started the tradition of a party on this date four hundred years ago, and no-one has ever thought up a good enough reason to cancel them. We have been holding them every year ever since!”

That had always produced a laugh and an end to the matter. However, the real reason for the first night of the celebrations was to charge the castle with energy that the Inner Circle could harness for use in its own private rituals on the second day.

Not many people understood that and even fewer people noticed that the largest parties occurred every four years, when potential new apprentices were selected.

And this, the one hundredth selection, was to be a spectacular event.

2 THE SEDOLFSENS’ ANNUAL BALL

The Baron wanted the four hundredth annual ball and the one hundredth apprentice selection to be the best ever. To that end, first, he had done some thinking, then he and his wife had put their heads together and finally he had asked The Board for its recommendations. It was the way he usually did things, and one of the reasons that he was so popular.

The result was that three hundred and ninety guests were invited and fifty extra staff were taken on. The Baroness was well aware that nothing was allowed to go wrong this year even though the ballroom would be filled to almost double the capacity it was designed for. Therefore, she had called in the assistance of the best party organisers in Norway and Sweden to check her figures and supply extra staff.

Von Knutson were the best in the business and it was rumoured that the royal houses of both countries had availed themselves of the company’s services in times of need.

“What is the weather report, Francisco?” asked the Baroness of her husband. “Do you think that the gods will look upon us favourably this year?” She was only an inch taller than her husband, but she was naturally thin and elegant, whereas he was prone to putting on weight. However, that, her hair and her heels made her appear a lot taller, not that the Baron minded. In fact, he was rather proud of having a taller wife, as many shortish men are.

“I think that they will, Joie”, he replied using his pet name for her. “The ice has gone from the lake; the birds and foxes are coming back... it’s not so cold and the weatherman says that we are in for an exceptional spring. So, yes, I think we’ve hit it lucky”.

“It was also a stroke of genius to invite so many people that whatever the weather is like outside, people will find it too warm inside just because of their own body heat”.

“It’s very kind of you to say so, my dear. I am rather proud of that little touch myself. I really liked your suggestion to have concealed entertainers dotted about between the ballroom and the marquee too. That’ll make them jump about a bit! By golly, I should say so”.

“Thank you, darling. Catering for two hundred in the dining room and two hundred in the marquee should ensure some circulation and there’s the smoking room, the verandah and the gardens. I think we can safely say that our guests will have ample opportunity to regulate their body temperature themselves”.

“I agree, Joie, a well-deserved pat on the back for all concerned. Ah well, let’s get on with it then. The first batch of guests is due at eight, aren’t they?”

“Yes, Frank, we had better start getting dressed. It’s time to let the staff and caterers sink or swim on their own. There’s nothing more we can do until we are ready ourselves”.

“Very well, Joie, I’ll call by your dressing room at eight to pick you up”.

They embraced lightly, pecked each other on the cheek and parted company.

∞

The Baron and Baroness were standing by a table of drinks about twenty feet in from the entrance to the ballroom. The Master of Ceremonies announced each of the guests as they arrived, but the hosts only remained there for thirty minutes while the most important guests entered, those who had been given the earlier arrival time of eight pm. Others who had been told eight thirty would have a harder time of making it to shake the Baron’s hand and express their gratitude for being invited.

Dress was formal, but this wasn’t a problem for most of even the local tradesmen who already possessed dinner jackets to wear to their Masonic or Round Table Lodges, both of which the Baron was a member, although he rarely attended the meetings any more. He had joined because it was traditional, a gesture of goodwill, a publicity exercise, more than because he was looking for a good night out with decent local people.

The majority of the local population understood this and respected him for making the effort to support the neighbourhood charity fundraisers. The aristocratic Sedolfsens enjoyed a good reputation with the overwhelming majority of people living around about the castle and in the province as a whole.

They both put on their best smiles to match their aristocratic-cum-military dinner attire. The Baron sported medals, a cummerbund and a sash, while the Baroness wore a full-length dark green silk ball gown, a tiara and a sash. They extended a white-gloved hand, one after the other, to each of the early guests. Occasionally, the Baron would bow slightly and click his heels and his wife would courtesy, when someone of royal blood stood before them. As the ballroom began to fill up, the members of the Inner Circle mingled seamlessly from the French doors, the dining room or the main entrance according to their preference.

The event was spectacular; everyone said so. The party was reported in the local paper by the editor of the newspaper personally since he was there, as was his boss from Oslo, the owner of the paper.

There was a small orchestra providing appropriate music in the ballroom for those who knew how to dance in the older styles and there were quite a few. There was a harpist in the dining room for those who wanted a break and there was a small theatre troupe performing sketches in the marquee. The crowd modulated itself very well by moving between the venues, and the weather could best be described as fresh, but it was certainly not cold.

People wandered between the three main hotspots and stood on the patio or walked in the gardens, which were lit by a multitude of lights regulated by a number of computer-controlled, pre-programmed sequences. The surprises went down well though. Scantily clad men and women in tights and body stockings, who must have felt the cold, sprang out from alcoves and small arboreta in a flood of coloured light, and fire-eaters spat flames from concealed spots at random. Hoots of laughter and screams of surprise could be heard in the grounds all evening.

With so many guests present, and so much going on, it was a simple task for the thirteen of the Inner Circle to slip away whenever they wanted to. Rarely was it a concerted effort to leave and meet up all together, but nevertheless, it was not unusual for two-thirds of the Board to find themselves in The Sanctuary at the same moment.

The Baron had opened the one-way window onto the ballroom as the two rooms adjoined. There was also CCTV of the grounds and the marquee fed from the castle’s main security cameras.

“What an atmosphere, Francisco!” said one of the Inner Circle seated around the table. “You really have excelled yourself this year”.

“Pardon, Claus?” asked the Baron, who was slightly hard of hearing, if the voice was not completely familiar. Claus waved at the screens and held up a thumb. “Oh, yes, I see what you mean. Thank you so very much. Joie put a lot of work into the event”.

“I particularly like that ingenious touch of having thirty guests to each member of the Board. It gives the atmosphere that extra frisson, don’t you think?” commented another member.

“Yes”, added Claus, “it should provide a real boost for tomorrow. Well done, both of you. I think I’ll wander over to the marquee and have a smoke on the way. It looks pretty lively over there. Anyone fancy a wander?”

“Yes, I’ll go with you”, replied another and they exited into the study.

The whole castle was filled with the sounds of people enjoying themselves, but the events outside in the garden and the marquee seemed to be marginally the most popular, partly because the weather was so mild and partly because the ballroom soon became stuffy when it neared its intended capacity.

The most active revellers of them all though were the thirteen members of the Inner Circle who appeared to thrive on the excitement of those around them. Baron Sedolfsen and his wife seemed to be everywhere. Everyone wanted to talk with them and they were willing to cooperate - nay, more than willing, they were enthusiastic about it. They literally dined on the joyous mood of their guests.

When the party was officially over at midnight, the hosts posted themselves near the exit from the ballroom so that they could personally thank all those who wanted to bid them goodnight and that was all of those who hadn’t had to leave early.

When the last few guests had left shortly before one, and the servants were securing the castle for the night, the Inner Circle came together in the middle of the ballroom floor as if from out of the woodwork. Each was smiling broadly.

“Well, my hat’s off to you, Franky, and you, my dear Joie, you really have done us proud this year”. There followed a round of cheering.

“Thank you, uncle Hakon, thank you all, on behalf of Joie and myself. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a few things to do before I retire, but you can carry on until you drop if you like. I’m sure there must be some food and drink lying around that you can scavenge, otherwise just ask the staff who are still cleaning the place up. Goodnight”.

The Baron remotely locked down the Sanctuary and went to his room feeling exhilarated, but also wanting to preserve the energy for later on that evening.

3 THE 100th APPRENTICES’ NIGHT

Most of the Inner Circle spent the following morning in bed, and the afternoon lounging around the castle, walking in the grounds or fishing in the lake, which was well stocked and famous for its trout. The Sedolfsens had a few items to check on, but left most of the organising to Maximillian, since the caterers were no longer needed.

Breakfast and lunch were served, but they didn’t lay on any food after that because it was traditional for everyone to dine together after the meeting had closed at around ten o’clock.

The rooms of all of the Inner Circle had been granted access to the footage of the party the previous evening and all of the members spent an hour or two running through the highlights as they were getting ready in order to relive the party and psyche themselves up for the evening before them.

The ceremony began at seven. All the lights in the public area of the castle were put out at the main fuse box, only the kitchen was left using electric light so that the staff could prepare supper. Torches of greased twigs were placed in their holders along the passageways and candles and open fires were used in all the rooms. The flickering lights made it look from outside as if the castle were ablaze. When Maximillian struck the gong at seven, thirteen figures in full-length black cloaks with hoods left their rooms and proceeded to the study bearing a burning fifteen-inch candle before it. When they had all arrived at the study door, the lead figure produced a large black key and ceremoniously opened the door. They filed into the office, which no longer looked quite as it used to and waited while another key was produced and The Sanctuary was made accessible to them. As each figure stood at the threshold to the inner sanctorum, a challenge was given: “Who was the last and yet still the first great Master?”

A muffled reply from each of the twelve, inaudible to any other than the Guard of the Sanctuary, and if correct, earned admittance. Each of the twelve passed the test and stood behind his or her seat.

“I say to all standing here, what is the first requirement for opening this meeting?” asked the bearer of the keys.

“To prove to you, O Inner Guard, that we are just members of the Inner Circle loyal and true, and that we have earned the right to a seat at this table”, the twelve chanted as one.

“And how will you achieve that, pray?”

“We will achieve that, Inner Guard, by revealing our true identities in the time-honoured fashion”, came the reply.

“And what is that time-honoured fashion of which you speak?”

“We will step out of the Darkness and into the Light, so that we may be recognised as true and loyal members”.

“Very well, let it be so, starting from number thirteen”.

A figure took one step nearer the seat before him, placed his candle in the holder on the table and began to disrobe. He hung his cloak over the back of his chair and stood in front of it. He was wearing a white smock, which bore several daubs, streaks and patches of colour on it.

“My name is Erik,” he said placing two fingers of his right hand over his heart, “and I am the Master Artist of the Odense Atelier of Artists. I bring you greetings from all the Artists, Painters and Apprentices from the loyal and true Odense Atelier”.

“Thank you brother Artist. Your qualifications being the artist’s smudges over your heart have been recognised and your greetings noted. Welcome to the Inner Circle. Number twelve...”

A similar routine was carried out with numbers twelve to two, which was the Baroness, who represented the Mjøsa Lake Atelier. When the twelve Master Artists had revealed themselves, the Inner Guard spoke again.

“And I, as the Inner Guard of your Sanctuary, will now reveal my true identity in honour of your candour and trust”.

He removed his hood revealing a Basque beret, and then his cloak to show his artist’s smock.

“Greetings, Brother and Sister Artists, from the Inner Circle Atelier here at Lille Mjøsa Castle. Please convey my deepest regards to the artists and apprentices of your respective Ateliers and now let us be seated.

“Fellow Artists, before we are seated, let us take the time to open the Atelier properly. What is the one item that the world needs more of?”

“Enlightenment!” came the universal reply.

“Yes, my Brothers and Sisters, but universal enlightenment, not that of a few for the few, so let us take a leap of faith into the Darkness and trust in Higher Forces. Extinguish the personal lights that have guided you here this evening and trust in the common good now”.

On the word ‘now’ each candle was put out and The Sanctuary was left in total darkness.

“Great Artist of the Universe”, wailed Joie, “please help us in our moment of blindness, we beseech you!”

There was a spark in the blackness above them and a candle flickered into life, then two more, followed by four and then eight more. Fifteen, a magic number to them, the length of a tool of enlightenment, an artist’s paintbrush.

“As you are all aware, this is the 100th. Apprentices’ Night, so it is very special to us. Not only does Apprentices’ Night come but once in four years, this is the one hundredth such occasion and we have four would-be apprentices. I am sure that you are all aware that we had 390 guests last night, which equates to thirty guests for each member of this Inner Circle Atelier and that our Atelier meetings are held but once a year on the 30th. of March. All the significant numbers are in force this year, so let’s make it a good one. Erik of Odense, would you once again don your cloak and hood and prepare the apprentices in the outer chamber, while we who are left prepare for your return”. He tapped a block of cedar with the rear end of a fifteen-inch paintbrush to signify that that subject had been dealt with and the Master Artist from Odense left the room incognito.

While he was admitting the apprentices to the study, and advising them how to present themselves to the Board, the other twelve members were preparing The Sanctuary. They removed various artefacts from the walls and placed them around the room and donned masks and singlets that they had made themselves and brought with them. Then they put their cloaks and hoods back on, and secreted themselves at various locations around the room. Finally, the window to the outside was activated, the candles were relit and taken by their owners to wherever they were stationed, and the lights in the chandelier were extinguished. Francisco pushed a button and a tiny red light flashed high up in the far corner of the study. Eric was watching for it and was the only one who saw it. Everyone heard the howling of wolves and evil cackling.

“The time has come apprentices for you to show your worthiness to join our esteemed organisation”. The howling and cackling continued and as each apprentice showed signs of rising tension, Eric said, “Turn to your right so that I may blindfold you... All right, about turn left and await my signal to enter the Chamber of Trials, where ghouls, demons and other terrors may be lurking. Your sponsor will guide you, so trust in your sponsor and nothing evil can befall you. Via con Dios, trust only in Him, yourselves and your sponsor. I will see those who survive in the Otherworld very soon”.

A single crash of a gong somewhere in or outside the castle rang out and the door to The Sanctuary opened with a loud, eerie creak.

“Take fifteen paces forward on my mark, apprentices, but pay heed, fifteen, no more and no less. There you will find your sponsors. Good luck! Forward into Darkness, brave fellows!”

They took off gingerly in single file, each one counting carefully and stopped at the fifteenth step.

“Go no further!” shouted one sponsor over the din as he grabbed his ward’s left arm above and below the elbow.

“Stop for pity’s sake, before it is too late!” pleaded the second and grabbed his charge. The third and fourth apprentices were treated likewise and they were led off to the four corners of the room sometimes having to avoid obstacles that lay in their path or to bear the howling and cries of Board members as they passed them by. This was all frightening enough for the young apprentices, but their blindfolds had been made so as not to cover the eyes completely, so that the wearer could catch glimpses from time to time.

When the terrified apprentices had made it to the apparently safe refuge of their corners still in the grip of their sponsors, the picture wall came to life revealing a scenario of a pack of timber wolves feeding on a carcass in a thunder and lightning storm. Shadowy ghoulish figures clad all in black but flashing occasional glimpses of pale-green skin darted about among the wolves. It was so lifelike that many would have believed that they were outside in the woods at the terrible scene.

“Apprentice Artists, you have been blindfolded to shield your sensibilities from the wickedness that goes on all around you in this world. However, some of you, the bravest, the humblest and the truest, will catch glimpses of the horrors that can befall mankind even through the blindfolds that they are wearing. If you are one of those, I salute you and bid you to take courage from the knowledge that your Brothers and Sisters are here to ensure that you come to no harm. Sponsors, I call upon you to lead your apprentices around our hallowed grounds but to guide them carefully, and protect them from Evil”.

The couples meandered around the room, roughly following the walls, but trying to disguise that that was what was happening. As they passed the round table or any of the posts where members were stationed surprise interactions would take place all to the backdrop of the terrible sounds of wolves feeding and ghouls enjoying themselves in the way that men assume that they do.

One candidate stumbled and nearly fainted, but for the encouraging words of his sponsor.

“Courage, Robert, you are almost through this ghastly night. Let me be your comfort, guide and shield”.

Robert walked on, but certain that he had failed the test and disappointed his Sponsor.

“I see approaching Brethren,” called a voice in the Darkness. “Brethren, be ye of good heart?”

“Aye, Brethren, and you?”

“Yes, we are looking for shelter from this madness!”

“Would you join us?”

“Gladly”, came the reply. Three more such greetings were given and the band of eight returned to the table where the other nine members were already seated. The first sponsor rapped the tabletop with his knuckles.

“Who is without?” called Francisco.

“We are eight brothers and sisters, loyal and true, seeking shelter and sustenance. It has been a most foul night”.

“Eight, you say? But we only have room for four more. Whom would you leave behind?”

“No-one, Brother, if you cannot accommodate all of us them we must move on for we are loyal and true to one another too”.

“In the face of such loyalty, I will call up four more chairs that you may all dine with us. Enter Brothers and Sisters loyal and true”.

With that, the members removed their ghoulish masks and singlets and placed them in the drawers in the table before them.

“Step up Brothers and Sisters that you may be recognised”

The first sponsor removed the cloak from his apprentice. “May I present Millicent, a sister apprentice from Oslo, and I am her Master, Willem of Oslo”. So, saying, he removed his own cloak. The other three couples followed suit.

“Master Artists, before I can allow your apprentices to join our illustrious gathering, I have two questions: one for you and one for them. Why are they blindfolded?”

“So, that their eyes might be spared the horrors of the night”.

“So, if Darkness brings horrors, what would you like most right now apprentices?”

“Light!” said three in unison, but the fourth said, “Lights!” before realising he was out of sync and said “Light!”

It produced a barely-audible chuckle from some members.

“Well, if our guests desire Light, or even more than more than one, let there be Light and as the chandelier dropped a few feet and the candles were lit, the sponsors whipped away their apprentices’ blindfolds.

“Before you join us at this table, in honour of your candid nature, we will also reveal our true identities. Number thirteen?” and the disrobing began again. When Francisco had taken his cloak off, the sponsor Master Artists and their apprentices were directed to their places.

“Well done, Apprentices”, said Francisco, “let me be the first to shake your hands and welcome you to this the Mother Atelier. We will dine tonight and tomorrow you will return to your Mother Ateliers in the knowledge that one day you may be called back to this table to take a permanent seat as do we thirteen here now”.

The Apprentices looked around them but only the table was clearly illuminated the walls some distance away were in shadows and the picture wall had been turned off.

“Brothers and Sisters, please sit back from the table a few inches”.

Francisco pushed a button in his pocket and the table sank slowly out of sight. Moments later, it was replaced with an identical table bearing seventeen servings of soup in bowls of gold, and bread rolls on golden side plates. The Apprentices were awestruck at the extravagance.

“No silver service tonight, Brothers and Sisters, tonight all the metal on the table will be of twenty-two carat gold. We don’t use it often, but as tonight is the one hundredth Apprentices’ Ball, Joie, my wife, and I thought it appropriate. Joie, would you say Grace? Bon appétit everyone!”

The tables revolved thirteen times for thirteen courses, and the banter around it was jovial and lively. The four Apprentices were particularly pleased to hear that they had been awarded two weeks’ holiday in Spain. This was not a complete surprise to them, because there were rumours about the holiday apartments that the organisation owned around the world, but it was twice the normal length of time given to an Apprentice.

“And don’t worry”, Francisco reassured them, “we have already squared it with your bosses, parents or whomever.

“One word of advice about your vacation: you will all be expected to behave in a manner that will bring honour to our illustrious organisation. We have owned most of our overseas properties for many years and so, we, naturally, have contacts in the vicinity, who will be able to report back on your conduct. Make sure that it is exemplary. Having said that, we all hope that you enjoy yourselves at your destination. You have earned it. Well done, one and all!” Francisco started the round of applause and the members of the Inner Circle followed his example with great enthusiasm.

When the ceremony and the meal were over, everyone had had his or her fill of food, drink and speeches, and they were all happy to go to bed.

4 FRANK AND JOY

Frank was a tall, handsome, fifty-something-year-old banker, who worked in the City of London, but as a specialist in commercial loans; he often had to travel to other branches than his own to meet clients nearer to their premises. Every lunchtime, and sometimes after work too, he would visit one of the pubs or restaurants in the area where he found himself for something to eat. He was a bachelor, and, living alone, found cooking for just himself a chore. If he fancied a drink to relax himself in the evening, he could take a taxi home since he never took his car to work anyway.

He was well off, or at least well paid and had saved quite a lot in nest eggs provided by the bank at preferential rates. However, he was lonely. He was beginning to regret never having made the time to look for that special someone. These days, he found that he was finding himself more and more often on his own. He was bored with drinking and eating too much just to be able to convince himself and his colleagues that he was having a good time being single at his age. Pick-ups were becoming rarer, but he hadn’t given up hope just yet.

One Friday lunchtime, he noticed a party of Thais from the Embassy nearby celebrating across the bar room. There were about twenty of them and they were roughly evenly split between the ages and sexes. However, one of the women, whom he judged to be about thirty years of age and just about the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, seemed to be responding to his stares. At first, there was brief eye contact, and then a smile quickly covered by a hand, and then, as time passed by, more open responses.

He checked his watch. His lunch hour had flown past and it was time to leave, but how could he go now, after being presented with a rare opportunity like this?

Frank reconsidered his thoughts. ‘Rare?’ ‘Rare?’ Rare did not even come close. This was more than rare, it was unique. He made a snap executive decision and phoned in sick.

“I’m at that new wine bar down the road. Look, I’m terribly sorry, but I feel a little queasy. Perhaps one of the moules in the marinère was off... No, there’s no need, really... Honestly... I’ll sit here a while longer, go to the toilet a few more times and then get a taxi home. When I feel that I can trust myself... if you know what I mean... Yeah, sure, thanks. Yes, it is a bummer, but there you go. Maybe it’s better not to eat seafood on a Friday after all. It can spoil your weekend.

“Oops, something’s bubbling down below, I’d better go back to the bog and sit down. See you on Monday... Thank you, bye”.

When he was certain that the Thai party would not be breaking up any time soon, he ordered a decent bottle of red Rioja, and sat back to stare at the Thai woman, who had caused him to lie to his boss for the first time that he could remember in thirty-odd years.

He was in a cavalier mood after lying to Mike, his manager, so he decided to take a big risk. He held up his glass to the Thai lady and mouthed the word ‘Cheers!’ His heart was in his mouth, but he came over light-headed when she reciprocated with her glass of white liquid.

He cursed himself for ordering a full bottle of red, when she was drinking either white wine or water. It was impossible to tell from the distance, but he could not see any wine bottles on the table. For a few seconds, he toyed with the idea of sending the wine back as corked and ordering a glass of Chablis, but he had already told one lie and didn’t like the feeling.

When he saw her and three other women stand up to go to the Ladies, he decided to make his move. As they passed by his table, he gave her his best smile. He thought he would die when she smiled back, but she did not stop. He wondered how long it would take four women to go to the toilet. Three to five minutes, he reckoned, but he knew that he could not be too generous, so he began counting down four minutes. Halfway through, he remembered that he had a stopwatch on his Omega, but it was too late and he nearly lost count.

At what he hoped was the four-minute mark, he got up to stand at the bar close to his table. They would have to pass by in single file, and if she were last, he would ambush her.

Sure enough, after three hundred and twelve seconds had passed, the women started to walk past him, but they all smiled.

Two almost giggled.

He guessed that he had been a topic of conversation in the loo, but his prayers were answered and ‘his girl’ brought up the rear of the line. He stepped out in front of her.

“Oh, I’m dreadfully sorry. I do apologise! Are you all right? I don’t know what I must have been thinking!”

“Don’t worry, no harm done”, she said stopping and smiling at him broadly for his clumsy approach. After a few seconds, she started to look embarrassed.

“Oh, look, silly me, I’m blocking your way. I couldn’t help noticing you... and your friends... are you having some kind of a party?”

“Yes”, she replied, giggling at his awkwardness and obvious intentions. “It is our king’s birthday, so we have the afternoon off. We are celebrating his happy birthday... December 5th. is a very big holiday in Thailand”.

“Oh, you’re Thai, are you? How interesting”, he said feigning ignorance. “My name is Frank by the way” and he held out his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Frank. My name is Joy”, she replied, still seeming to be laughing at a joke that he was not aware of.

“When you are finished with your party, Joy, might I be permitted to buy you a drink to celebrate your king’s birthday as well?”

She hesitated for just the right amount of time for propriety and then accepted.

“My friends are leaving at three. I was going to go back with them, but... I suppose I could join you for one drink... in honour of our king, of course”.

“Yes, of course, in honour of your king’s birthday. I will wait for you right here”.

Frank had never been much of one for royalty, but at that moment, he was thanking God that there was a king of Thailand.