The Enchantress of Avalon (Part One of Two)

Draft for a two-part story

An homage to HP Lovecraft

The Enchantress of Avalon (Part One of Two)

It’s only now that I can remember things clearly. Those events of All Hallow’s Eve will always be etched in my memory. As I tell this tale now I can still smell the fear. It had been twelve months since my Lenore went missing. Despite long and painstaking efforts, she could not be found. That day had been the anniversary of her disappearance; a day of deepest maudlin.

There was no work to be done, what with it being a Sunday. I recall clearly the sun shining making the Heavens look their most radiant. It was whilst observing the skies that I found myself out strolling along the High street in Glastonbury. All manner of odd folk were around as ever there were in this most eclectic of places. They say there are more witches here than anywhere else in England and that would seem to be the case given the plethora of pagan artefacts for sale. Passing the magnificent St John’s church with its ornate gates and most wonderful of towers, my reverie was broken by a sudden desire to stop for tea. This wasn’t something I would normally consider and when I reflect on this now, it would seem that strange forces were at work. With a thirst upon me I decided to take refreshment at a small establishment opposite St. John’s.

Opening the shop door, a bell high on the frame tinkled announcing my entrance. It was of note that the room was full of visitors with a similar idea to mine with few spaces available at any of the tables. My gaze was met by a fireplace with an ornate clock made of mahogany perched on the mantelpiece. A magnificent mirror with edging of gold overlooked proceedings. There was a certain decorum with menus of cardboard standing sentry sitting on white tablecloths of linen embroidered with images of roses.

Spying perhaps the only spare chair available, I made my way across the royal blue and white carpet towards it. I had considered leaving but such was my desire to enjoy a short break that I persisted even if it meant sharing a table with another. Seated was a young lady perhaps twenty or so years of age. I enquired if she minded me sitting with her. Looking up, she agreed, demurely. In hindsight, I should have considered this unusual that a member of the fairer sex would be alone in this environment but it just didn’t occur to me at the time.

Moments later, a waitress wearing a cotton jacket of gold thread secured by a broach in the middle, fair hair tied in a bun with a skirt that matched the rest of her attire attended and took my order of tea for one. My temporary partner declined any order made on her behalf, a partly drunk cup perched in front of her with tea and milk accompanying in finest blue, bone China. Behind her were a gentleman wearing spectacles and sporting a small beard and a lady of middle-aged years. They were smiling as they exchanged pleasantries, occasionally lifting cups of chai to their mouths to sip in a genteel fashion.

All of the tables hummed with quiet chatter save for the one I was sat at but then we were strangers. The young girl opposite me was discreetly looking down at a book, reading at the table’s edge. Whilst it was rude to stare, I did take in her appearance through the periphery of my vision. She had blonde hair with curls at the side, her freckled face decorated with light make-up, her nose was on the small side whilst her eyes were of a darker shade of brown. She wore a delightful gown with a bell-shaped skirt. I must admit to an instant attraction, notwithstanding my ongoing lament for my dear Lenore.  Again, when I think on this, my behaviour seemed quite at odds as to what might be considered “normal”.

Those moments awaiting the return of the assistant were awkward. We were both aware of each other’s presence but uncomfortable with breaking the silence. When my tea finally did arrive, this seemed to relieve the tension. As the waitress left, I poured and glancing across, I asked “What brings you here on a sunny afternoon?” At first, I thought my words would be lost and my question would remain unanswered. However, she slowly looked up from her tome and stared back at me.

“Simply taking refreshment, the same as you sir.”

Whilst this would seem a sensible reply, I wasn’t sure of how polite a response this was. Her voice was light and serious, a distinct gravitas and confidence about it. My apprehension was alleviated when she smiled.

“Of course, of course.” I stuttered. “My social conversational skills are somewhat stunted by my profession at times.”

“And what would that be, prey tell?” she enquired, now looking more animated than she had been.

“I am a practicing solicitor at Parker, Parker and Dingwell at the town chambers.” came a perfunctory answer.

“Ah.” She said simply and looked down at her book once more.

“My name is Robert Hicks, by the way. Please excuse my manners.” I held out a hand across the table, somewhat limply.

Despite only having just met this girl, I felt an allure that I can’t say that I had felt in a while. I was twenty-eight years old and had a successful career ahead of me. Before meeting my intended, Lenore, I had been in but a handful of relationships, none of which extended beyond a few months at best. I was still naïve when it came to women.

“Ah that sounds so interesting. You must be busy. I imagine it’s a rare moment that you get to sit with unknown girls in tea shops.” There was an air of mischief about this comment. Her eyes twinkled as she watched me ruminating, wondering how to reply before she said “Not that I mind at all, it’s nice to make your acquaintance.” She took my hand and shook it briefly and with the gentlest of touches.

I felt like a fish that had been taken off its hook and cast back into a river.  She was staring out of the front window now watching people go by.

“Is it customary for you to take tea on your own?” I enquired, instantly regretting being so bold.

She looked at me with an expression of mild surprise and with a half-smile. Then, as abruptly as we had met, she suddenly stood, made her apologies and left. For a few seconds, it felt like a gust of wind had blown straight through my soul.  I quickly replayed the conversation in my mind and determined that this was one of the stranger incidents of recent days. As a practicing solicitor, at times I would be confronted with the occasionally obscure affair such as the vagaries of unravelling a client’s last will and testament but the extraordinary nature of this incident exceeded those matters.

My eyes had followed her hasty exit. As she left through the door, she was met by two further women. I found myself being stared at by all three of them through the window. The girl I had briefly engaged in conversation with me was looking at me with an enigmatic smile. Her associates, both of whom were older wore decorative bonnets tied around their chins with lace and gaudy dresses. Both had fixed me with more sinister gazes. It was hard not to notice their sharp, jutting chins with hairs poking out of them. As quickly as they appeared, they salted off into the distance, leaving my mind whirring with confusion. That was until one of the waitresses crossed the room, stooped and whispered into my ear “The lady left this for you, sir.” handing me a folded piece of paper. I glanced at her quizzically as she took her leave.

I opened what I imagined was a message of some kind. The handwriting was beautifully articulated in what was a simple sentence. “Meet me at the top of the Tor. At Midnight. Agnes x.” Needless to say, I was shocked at the small kiss that came after the disclosure of the girl’s name. This was very forward, especially for a young lady meeting an older man for the first time. It had been the shortest of exchanges and yet, here it was, a curious invite to meet again, albeit, this whole situation had taken a bizarre turn. Why send a note like this? Why not simply state the request when we were together at the table? Why suggest a triste after such a fleeting, impromptu engagement? Who were the formidable looking friends she had met outside? Questions filled my head but, of course, there would only ever be one outcome.

Part two at: https://www.abctales.com/story/marandina/enchantress-avalon-part-two-two

Image free to use at https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Teahouse#/media/File:Tea_room_with_interio...