Epilogue
It’s been 6 months and 9 days since what has now been dubbed the Rockford House Case came to light.
Time to reflect, time to cry and a time to look not at the past but towards the future.
We have all taken hits, suffered loses and lost battles, those of us that were involved in this evil time.
Today I look out and see a new day, another grey winter’s day, but it’s my day. The wind howls below and the rain batters the panes of glass of the new greenhouse Ive had built. The waves are angry and you can hear them crash from here, the master bedroom when when the windows are closed.
I love it, the tranquility the comfort, the English dream. Far away from the city and it’s vices, noise and pollution.
Yes this house is in the limelight and every day either a phone call or someone at the gate to come and see the property or an interview. It’s not happening. We’ve seem so much lost this year and this place is not a peep show of the dreadful evil that lurks within. The house is free of all that evil right now but only in the right conditions.
People haven’t done the place any favors. From that fame whore of a violinist who played and claimed he encountered ghosts, to one of the detectives who had a mental episode bringing the place further into the spotlight of perverts of the supernatural wishing to get a glimpse of things that they’ll never understand.
Why do humans relish fear? Why the curiosity of dread? Why does death sell?
I could go on about death, fear and dread but that’s not significant now. Not relevant anymore.
When my father passed away at the end of June, her revenge was completed even though I’d already won. As she stood her powers subsiding slightly at the grave of her dear father. A man so weak, he became a conduit of the past and allowed himself to be taken to the point his body had to be destroyed in order to suppress it.
I stood in court and spoke of what I saw and heard there. I helped those that needed it and allowed the preparations for my requisite of Rockford House necessary.
No one was charged with murder except Martina Thornton, who was witnessed killing Robert one of those witnesses also by a necessity was deemed to mentally unsound to stand and speak of what she witnessed and endured. She even forgot the language she came here to learn.
Now she’s back on the Baltic Sea in care and far away from the loudest echoes of this case.
As for Nathan Thornton he stood in court changed his story to suit the narrative I gave him almost went down for contempt of court, and had disappeared up to the Scottish Highlands, residing in a cottage I believe left to him in the will of Dear Robert. He did attend his mother’s funeral which not many did as she is now a Monster Of Rockford, just like those before despite Nathan’s apron clinging.
He is out of the way broken and is no threat to me anymore, not that he ever was to begin with.
My father may Rest In Peace. He was a good man, a caring man, set us all up well for that day when he did depart. He’s gone, they said it was a stroke but we know who killed him. My mother knows too, and it’s nearly taken her in the aftermath. Now she lives alone, with her and herself. I call her once a week but she thinks I’m lost. She tried to stop me purchasing this place, my castle, with the money left by my father. How she resents what Ive become and to hear her you’d think she is talking to a ghost.
I’m not the ghost Marie, you are if you miss Father so much take that leap of faith that you seem to cling onto and see if the god you believe him allow you that eternal meeting. You are done here.
The bank seized Rockford house after extensive investigation. They were only too willing and content to let it go for a bargain, though I’d given all for it. It’s my house now and I have made it a home finally. No more do we heat the creaks at night or see the shadowy figures. They are behaving and have accepted that I have the power and I may not be Lord of the House I’m certainly it’s true keeper. I have the box after all, the box that the mystery is kept and though I can’t ever remove the cursed object from its grounds, I still hold it close and I do get ideas.....
The box I speak of is where it should be underneath the conductor that keeps the mischief at bay. It’s down below the house, only accessible by a secret door I found quite by chance. I be the keeper of the house but the box has it’s own keeper. And she sits there all day the box in her hands and at night the box under her bed. She still sees the members of Rockford, and they do taunt her, even her withered father and her unstable mother, visit her as when I bring food to her I’ve seen her face as they touch her.
My life is all about evils, necessary ones, my father dying was a shock but necessary, my ex Dawn Thornton’s mental breakdown evil but necessary and though it was hard to achieve I got what I wanted and she is now in my care, and cared for she is........in this dimension at least.
Her sacrifice keeps the halls warm, the air fresh and the dark nights affable. Nothing is seen here and my sister and her partner can vouch for it as my best friend Ethan who was kind enough to bring my alongside the small quay at Rockford village. All parties can say they’ve stayed here and never slept better.
That suits my narrative and least now I can hire staff. Heath has become my
estate manager, he is qualified and really is my brother just not by blood. It’s great to have him here and I can do most of my work via computer. Unfortunately as I’ve taken on my fathers work, I still have to make that trip to London from time to time, and I miss the house so badly it hurts. I also have to listen to jibes about my hair being silver. Barroom talk by so called educated people, but it’s all lie. Education means nothing anymore, I know so much and can do so much. Superpowers are real if we choose to believe them.
The Thornton solicitor Walter Dawkins has become a thorn in my side. He fought hard to prevent Rockford House slipping out of ownership but Robert messed up on his contract and his folly is my gain once again.
The Thornton children were all left money, and the three properties that were in ownership by Robert but all jointly, and that means that none of them can sell without the other being compensated so let them fight, and none of them had the money for the upkeep of this place. So it had to be sold. Plus Dawn’s doctor states she is just grief stricken and won’t pass on powers of attorney as he clearly thinks her mind is sound. Don’t you just love doctors and their arrogance.
So today I’ve hired staff. Or rather Heath has. We have a resident cook, an Italian man called Enzo, who once trained to be a priest by all accounts, a house keeper named Sue who seems to be very efficient and a gardener, a Trevor Green, I’m not sure about him yet. He stays in the house as the gatekeepers cottage is still in Maggie Coopers name and she is still “missing” according to the police. Though I know better and have seen her lurking about in dead eye form, before the box was harnessed.
Plus she is still here, she has no claim to the house but comes here to charge her batteries and then departs back to Ascot. The gates won’t stop her plus she comes to see her sister and that pestilential solicitor made sure of that by law, but more on her later.
I had to make that man squirm to get him to release Dawn from the care home her sister plonked her in. He done it but keeps coming back with conditions. One day he’ll sign his last paper believe me.
So now it’s Christmas coming and I finally can live the life Ive always wanted. Sue is making the place homely and we found some rather charming decorations in the attic.
What to do with the snake tapestry I love, and the Portrait of the Lady Of The House, only gather it with holly I guess. Same goes to that awful panting Dawn done of her hair.
We have guests and I’ll make sure the other power holder is away that day though I can’t see how, I’m afraid to touch her as she is of me in case the power jumps back and leaves for good. I avoid her eyes at best as they now have this strange flicker of orange from time to time that even unsettles me. I allow her to come here but not to stay however there are times she does anyway and I her room is still here. It’s an unfavorable situation but so far I’m bound still by her power even though we are on a level playing field, plus I’ll never forgive Summer Thornton ever....... and one day, she’ll finally sink just like the rest of her family. This house does curse families.
That leads me to speak of enemies and allies. I mentioned guests, yes I have a few. Some well wishers of my fathers clan, and those brave enough to give this house a chance. A man I remember being here at the infamous dinner party, Roy Burnett, the director of Gladstone Holdings, the company Robert once had a high stake in.
He wishes to propose a venture in this place but I for one is disinterested. I’ll hear his cockney working class ramblings as he comes up with some way of convincing me to make money from this house attempting to pull the wool over my eyes
He’s got another thing coming.
Also a family called the Davenports, and looking into it, them and the Thornton’s have history and being relations. Their patriarch John Lawrence once owned this place, and it’s interesting to find out that he feared it. His son and wife Marcos and Penny have got in touch and want a tour. I’ll give them that as they seem to be good associates of one of my father’s friends Sir Ross Ballard who will be also attending with his wife and vibrant daughter Portia.
Heath and Faye his partner will be present, as so will Olivia my sister and Jonathan her now fiancé.
My mother won’t come but I’ll send on a nice wine to keep her mind elsewhere but here.
I didn’t mention my new partner I met by chance as she offered to buy my car when I realized it was still up for sale. Clemente Nestor-Heath, and Ive not felt love quite like it. We hit it off from the first awkward meeting as I came home from burying my father. Sliver car for sliver hair she said and though I told her my beloved Porsche wasn’t for sale anymore. She now has the keys to them and to my heart but not the house.......not yet.
She loves it down here, it’s everything she wants, she understands the agreement with Summer, and hates her as much as I do even though she doesn’t understand the real workings of the power. She does see good in me and my handling of Dawn and cares for her too in a way I’d never have guessed. After all I make it clear Dawn and I are finished but I still have a sense of constitution to care for her. She won’t know the real reason Dawn is here, as I look at her and think my level was low to be aligned with such a weak feeble creature.
Clemente really has a way about her and a dark side too that I crave. Her long blonde hair her green eyes and sexual energy keeps me stirred and it’s far from just sex that keeps us in the light.
She doesn’t seem to have time for her family which I find odd, but they are up in Yorkshire and she sees them from time to time though I’m never invited.
She has suggested we get fitter and though I want to tell her. “I don’t need to” she insists.
She has suggested one of her friends a Christoper Muldoon from Surrey comes and gives us personal training as it’s far from city gyms here. Maybe even install one in the house. Keeps her occupied I suppose like me she does a lot of work online and is running a small exquisite clothes business for the higher end client.
This Christopher Muldoon seems to know Sir Ross Ballard too and just shows me how small this world is.
Olivia likes her too and my sister can be most judgmental though she liked Dawn too.
So now I must mention enemies we have many. These fame hounds selling stories are the bane of this place. That two bit crack pot violinist, the Rev John Sherwood who talked of evil within these walls on live radio. The detective Larkin, who came out and said she was attacked something “that shouldn’t be”in the Summer House. The police gave her extended leave due to stress, which helped matters. The councilor David Marston who said he knew Martina was under a spell. All those liars and charlatans who make money form misery. Fortunately the internet has its hordes of skeptics who bury the stories also, as much as revive them. Photographs have been called fakes and no one has any real evidence of the power and it’s stories remain just that stories.
Even had a so called paranormal blogger from Canada called Graham on to me about how he was here back in 1990 and has spoken online how him and some traveling friends encountered evil when they trespassed the grounds. In the so called Rockford House Party Incident that was originally blamed on the consumption of drugs. Yet this “ufologist” has his fans across the world and says what he likes from the comforts of his Toronto apartment. Instead of rubbishing his claims I’ve invited him to visit and even offered to pay for his travel expenses so he can see for himself there is nothing but warmth and regeneration here.
He’s yet to respond and that’s where he’ll be called out as a fraud if he refuses.
Then onto another whore of misery, one Ive had the ill pleasure of meeting. A Simone Taylor. She was a friend of Summer Thornton and though they aren’t anymore for reasons I don’t know which is odd as she is now also a groupie queen to Benjamin Hawkes and his glorified pub band of half wits. She is claiming to be writing a book on Rockford House and when she does she’ll get my end of the law and I’m not talking about injunctions either. A parasite and a predator of misery and doom is all she is while she sits in her house on its leafy lane and sharing her “tales” with Oxford and it’s so called educated elites. I’m unconcerned of her as this is a person who talks to birds.
Finally Summer Thornton herself. I can’t get rid of her and though she spends most of her time back in university pursuing her degree in architecture she comes here merely to have a presence and go to her room which is still the way she has it. Clemente has voiced her concerns and she feels uneasy around her and also her “bodyguard” he can’t possibly be her lover, Jaime Marriott who skulks about like a drone who is certainly not welcome here and he has no place or power to enter this house but rather waits in the car outside the gate like a dog.
Summer Thornton will meet her end and by my hand but to do that I need to figure out a plan and this power does not exempt me from the law.
Ethan says I should just get the police involved and block her but on what grounds as she is sure to do no real harm and can see her sister when she likes. She comes to keep her hair silver and those Eyes Oversized and that’s all she seems to live for but I fear she’ll cause me problems down the line. Also Clemente wants to know everything about her, and does know we did have a thing though not my my hand or mind.
I was convinced she was about to push her sister into the sea one day as she took her for a walk, Dawn follows silently as was led to the edge of the tide line. I do think Summer wanted to talk to her mother but she’s not appearing only to Dawn and Fat Kitten sometimes mumbles the words she passed through her.
Haven’t heard from Summer in a week so I’ll expect her soon. She hates me more then ever that I’m the one here and she is merely like a weed in the garden, you just can’t get rid of her.
Well my diary that’s all I’ve got to say today and it’s strange but I’ve never kept a journal before. Now here I am talking you you upside down and left to right in Latin, one of the new skills.
Summer may still be the presence to be feared but I am the Man Of The House now the man in the high castle as I look across this beautiful place and land from the balcony of the master bedroom and know that forever I’ll be here, it makes even death itself insignificant as I now know my level.
Until another time
Myles Knight Master Of The House.
