41 The Blue Castle - Read By Stephanie Poppins

Valancy Stirling is 29, unmarried, and has never been in love. Living with her overbearing mother and meddlesome aunt, she finds her only consolation in the "forbidden" books of John Foster and her daydreams of the Blue Castle. This is the place she can be who she truly wants to be.

After getting shocking news from a doctor about her state of ill health, Valancy decides to rebel against her family in true heroine style and live the life she was always meant to have.

In this episode, Valancy's family are keen to resolve things.

All rights reserved. This audio file is protected with an invisible watermark. Individual use only. Copyright Neworld Books.

Written by S. D. Hudson.
Performed by Stephanie Poppins.
Music by Jean-Miles Carter.
Published by Neworld Books.

Transcript

Welcome to sleep stories with Steph It is time to relax. And fully let go. There is nothing you need to be doing now. And know where you need to go. Close your eyes. And feel yourself sink into the support beneath you. And let all the worries of the day go. Drift away. This is your time. And your space. Take a deep breath in through your nose. And let it out with a long sigh. That's it! There is nothing you need to be doing now. And know where you need to go. Happy listening. Chapter 41 Valancy looked dully about her old room. It too was so exactly the same it seemed almost impossible to believe in the changes that had come to her since she'd last slept in it. It seems somehow indecent it should be so much the same. There was Queen Louise everlastingly coming down the stairway. And no one had let the forlorn puppy in out of the rain. Here is the purple paper blind and the greenish mirror outside the old carriage shop with its blatant advertisements and beyond it the station with the same derelicts and flirtatious flappers. Here the old life waited for her, Like some grin ogre that bided its time and licked its chops. A monstrous horror of it suddenly possessed her. When night fell and she had undressed and got into bed, The merciful numbness passed away, And she lay in anguish and thought of her island under the stars. Then she thought of Barney inescapably. She ached for him. She wanted his arms around her, His face against hers. His whispers in her ear. She recalled all his friendly looks and quips and jests His little compliments, His caresses She counted them all over, As a woman might count her jewels. Not one did she miss from the first day they met. These memories were all she could have now. She shut her eyes and prayed. Let me remember every one, God. Let me never forget one of them. Yet it would be better to forget. The agony of longing and loneliness would not be so terrible if one could forget. And Ethel Traverse, That shimmering witch woman with her white skin and black eyes and shining hair. The woman Barney had loved, The woman he still loved. Hadn't he told her he never changed his mind? The woman who was waiting for him in Montreal. The right wife for a rich and famous man. Barry would marry her of course when he got his divorce. How Valancy hated her now, And how she envied her. Barney had said I love you to her. Valancy had wondered what tone Barney would say I love you in. How his dark blue eyes would look when he said it. Ethel Traverse knew. Valancy hated her for the knowledge, Hated and envied her. But she can never have those owls in the Blue Castle, They're mine. Thought Valancy savagely. Ethel would never make strawberry jam or dance to old Abel's fiddle or fry bacon for Barney over a campfire. She would never come to the Little North Starwyce shack at all. Valancy wondered what Barney was doing, Thinking and feeling now. Had he come home and found her letter? Was he still angry with her? Or perhaps a little pitiful. We see lying on their bed looking up to stormy Mastawis and thinking about the rain streaming down on the roof. Or was he still wandering in the wilderness, Raging at the predicament in which he found himself? Did he hate her? Pain overtook Valancy and wrung her like some pitiless giant. She got up and walked the floor. Would mourning never come to end this hideous night? And yet what could the morning bring her? The old life without the old stagnation that was at least bearable. The old life with the new memories, Longings and anguish. Why can't I die? Moaned Valancy. Chapter 42 It was not until early afternoon the next day a dreadful old car clanked up Elm Street and stopped in front of the brick house. A hatless man sprang from it and rushed up the steps. The bell was rung as it had never been rung before, Vehemently, Intensely. The ringer was demanding entrance, Not asking it. Uncle Benjamin chuckled as he hurried to the door. Uncle Benjamin had just dropped in to enquire how dear Doss Valancy was. Dear Doss, " he'd been informed, Was just the same. She had come down for breakfast, Which she didn't eat, Gone back to her room, Come down for dinner, Which she didn't eat, Gone back to her room. That was all. She had not talked. And yet she had been. Left kindly and considerably alone. Red Fern will be here today, " said Uncle Benjamin. And now his reputation as a prophet was made. Redfern was here. Unmistakably so. Is my wife here? He demanded of Uncle Benjamin, Without preface. Uncle Benjamin smiled expressively. Mr Redfern, I believe. Very glad to meet you, Sir. Yes, That naughty little girl of yours is here. We've been. . . I must see her. Barney cut Uncle Benjamin ruthlessly short. Certainly, Mr Redfern, Just step in here. Valancy will be down in a minute. He ushered Barney into the Parliament but took himself to the sitting room and Mrs Frederick. Go up and tell Valancy to come down. Her husband is here. But so dubious was Uncle Benjamin as to whether Valancy could really come down in a minute, Or at all. That he followed Mrs Frederick up tiptoe on the stairs and listened in the hall. Balanced dear, " said Mrs Frederick tenderly. Your husband is in the parlour asking for you. Oh, Mother! Valancy got up from the window and rung her hands. I cannot see him, I cannot. Tell him to go away. Ask him to go away. I can't see him. Tell her. He stungled Benjamin through the keyhole. Redford says he won't go away until he has seen him. Redfern had not said anything of the kind. That Uncle Benjamin thought he was that sort of a fellow. Fallacy knew he was. She understood that she might as well go down first as last. She did not even look at Uncle Benjamin as she passed him on the landing. Uncle Benjamin did not mind. Rubbing his hands and chuckling, He retreated to the kitchen, Where he genially demanded of Cousin Stickles. Why are good husbands like bread? Cousin Stickles asked why. Because women need them. He beamed. Valancy was looking anything but beautiful when she entered the parlour. Her white knight had played fearful havoc with her face. She wore an ugly old brown and blue gingham, Having left all her pretty dresses in the blue castle. But Barney. . . Dashed across the room and caught her in his arms. See, You darling little idiot. Whatever's possessed you to run away like that? When I came home last night and found your letter I went quite mad. It was twelve o'clock. I knew it was too late to come here then. I walked the floor all night. Then this morning Father came. I couldn't get away till now. Whatever got into you? Divorce? Don't you know? I only know you married me out of pity. Said Valancy, Brushing him away. I know you don't love me, Barney. I know. You've been lying awake at three o'clock too long, Said Barney, Shaking her. That's all the matter with you. I don't love you, My girl. When I saw that train coming down on you, I knew whether I loved you or not. Don't I love you? I was afraid you would try to make me think you cared, Cried Valancy passionately. Don't. I know all about Aethel Traverse. Your father told me everything. Don't torture me. I can never go back to you. Barney released her and looked at her for a moment. Something in her pallid, Resolute face spoke more convincingly than words of her determination. Valency. He said quietly. Father couldn't have told you everything because he didn't know it. Will you let me tell you everything? Yes. To dramancy wearily. Oh, How dear this man was, How she longed to throw herself into his arms. As he put her gently down in a chair, She could have kissed the slender brown hands that touched her arms. She could not look up as he stood before her. She dared not meet his eyes. For his sake she must be brave. She knew him, Kind and unselfish. Of course he would pretend he did not want his freedom. She might have known he would pretend that. Once the first shock of realisation was over, He was so sorry for her. He understood her terrible position. When had he ever failed to understand? But she would never accept his sacrifice. Never. You've seen Dad, And now you know I'm Bernard Redfern. And I suppose you've guessed I'm John Foster too, Since you went into Bluebeard's chamber. I think going out of curiosity. . . I forgot that you told me not to go in. I forgot. Never mind. I'm not going to kill you and hang you up on the wall. There's no need for you to call Sister Anne. I'm going to tell you my story from the beginning. I came back last night intending to do it. But things got away with me. I am old Doc Redfern's son of purple pills and bitters fame. Don't I know it? Wasn't it rubbed into me for years? He laughed bitterly then and strode up and down the room a few times. Uncle Benjamin tiptoeing through the hall heard the laugh and frowned. Surely Doss wasn't going to be a stubborn little fool, Was she? Then Barney threw himself into a chair before Valancy. As long as I can remember, I've been a millionaire's son. But when I was born, Dad wasn't a millionaire. He wasn't even a doctor. He isn't yet. He was a vet and a failure at it. He and Mother lived in a little village of Quebec and were abominably poor. I don't remember mother. I haven't even got a picture of her. She died when I was two years old. She was 15 years younger than father, A little school teacher. When she died, Dad moved into Montreal and formed a company to sell his hair tonic. He dreamed up the prescription one night, It seems, And it caught on. The money began to flow. Dad invented or dreamed the other things up too. Pills, Bitters, Liniment and so on. And he was a millionaire by the time I was ten. Now our house was so big a small chap like myself always felt lost in it. I had every toy a boy could wish for. And I was the loneliest little devil in the world. I remember only one happy day in my childhood valency, Only one. Even you were better off than that. Dad had gone out to see an old friend in the country and he took me along. I was turned loose in the barnyard and I spent the whole day hammering nails in the block of wood. It was a glorious day. When I had to go back to my room full of playthings in the big house, I cried. But I didn't tell Dad why. I never told him anything. It's always been a hard thing for me to tell things, Anything that went deep anyway. And most things go deep with me. I was a sensitive child and I was even more sensitive as a boy. No one ever knew what I suffered, And Dad never dreamed of it. When he sent me to private school, I was only 11. The boys ducked me in the swimming tank until I stood on a table and read aloud all the adverts of father's patent abominations. I was frightened and half drowned and all my world was against me. But when I went to college and the Soffs tried the same stunt, I didn't do it. Barney smiled grimly. I never heard the last of the pills and the bitters and the hair tonic. My four colleges were a nightmare. I had a few friends and there was always some barrier between me and the kind of people I cared for. I was Doc Redfern's son. The other kind who would have been willing to be intimate with such a boy. Well, They ignored me. I had one friend, A clever bookish chap and a bit of a writer. There was a kind of bond between us. He was older than I was and I looked up to him. For years, I became happier than I'd ever been. And then. A burlesque skit came out in the college magazine. And the names were changed of course, But everyone knew what it was and who it was meant for. It was so witty. McGill rocked with laughter over it, And I found out. He was the one that wrote it. You sure? Fancy's dull eyes flamed with indignation. Yeah, He admitted it when I asked him. He said a good idea was worth more to him than a friend any time. You know, Redfern, " he said, There's some things money won't buy. It won't buy you a grandfather. Well that was a nasty slam. I was young enough to feel cut up and it destroyed a lot of my ideals and illusions. Which was the worst thing about it. I was a young misanthrope after that. Didn't want to be friends with anyone. And then, The year after I left college, I met Ethel Traverse.