Ashes of rose

Hall for concert

The hall at Ashley Coombe, near Arundel, always surprises visitors - It is opened to public in summer months - who expect to find a mansion, for strictly speaking, it is castle. At one time, at the commencement of the building of the second dwelling on the site, it was referred to as Ashleigh castle, probably on account of the fact that the only surviving relic of earlier days was the Barbican or outer gatehouse. This is an almost exact copy of the one at Lewes castle some thirty five miles to the east which dates the fourteen century. It is a roofed building with large opening with twin cellular towers linked at the top by a parapet with openings. Decorative flint work faces the stonewalls.

Ashleigh Hall as it stands today has the earlier Barbican in it's centre with living accomodation in two wingson either side. Included in the right hand wing is a replica of the great gallaried room that was destroyed by fire, together with the most original building in 1972. Fortunately, many families treasures were saved from the flames; standards, painting, weapons, armour, so some of these adorn the rooms today.

"We are using Ashley Hall. Pretty good hall right?" Emmy shove his right hand against her neck giving her a lover's look.

Emmy had always thought he looked a bit of a wimp.

"You still hungry or not?" Ally asked intensively.

"Pretty hungry". Emmy responded immediately.

Emmy opened the huge door in front of him and stood motionless, with his back to the huge door. Ahead if him a wide staircase ascended and then divided, curving left and right. On the panelled wall of the landing where it split and directly facing him was the portrait of Sir Richard Jill's, knighted by Elizabeth R. Jill's. Sir Richard's eyes always seemed to stare accusingly at you, where ever you were standing. Knighthood or not; Nothing has changed, not the smallest detail. One side, to the right, was open to the great room below that took up the entire height of this part of this building. It was like a church, only without pews, nothing marring the perfection of the highly polished wooden floor. The lowe part of the walls was covered with linefold panelling, the upperbare paster painted white, the starkness alleviated by books, novels, magazines arranged in patterns. A few other books, sir Richard among them owned it. There were a lot of funitures in the room; a few chests with arrangements of flowers in copper bowls on them, a couple of oak chairs, a Chinese screen at one end. Three suits of fine flemish armour stood at the farthest end. Emmy could remember Ally getting into trouble for popping a ferret in through the open visitor of one of them, and then being able to persuade it to come out. Emmy continued with his wanderings. After three months of being away, the present surroundings were totally unbelievable. His feet sank into the deep pile of red carpet. All sound was hused by rich hangings to match and tapestries depicting medieval hunting parties, the horses not trending on one bright flower beneath their hooves.

"Hey". Ally shouted from behind

"Have a hot shower and then we'll go to the restaurant to go eat".

He turned.

"I don't really know why you're bothered".

"With you?" She said not looking up from knitting.

"Wasn't it me who always stood beside you in time of troubles?"

Emmy groans gently having full knowledge Ally like him for who he was, not who he seemed to be.

In his slightly light headed state, Emmy could picture himself as he stood thinking about what she had said: Broad shouldered, blond, possibly a little bovine. Yes, perhaps, some people, usually women, were put into the world to fix some men problems, oxlike lovers and take the thorns from dog's paws and so forth. Ministering people. Angels probably.

"Ally, will you get married to me one day"?

She lifted her head to stare at him.

"Eventually, I suppose". She added with enormous sarcasm. "When I have the time".

He realized that he had a huge, inane grin on his face.

"Go and have a shower". Ally scolded. He went still grinning.