Just a short tale for those with a few moments to spare , hope you enjoy it.

                                       Charlotte of Little Dean

                                                                By P A Hilton

Charlotte James had lived at Little Dean for all of her life. When she was a young girl she had viewed it has some kind of paradise, but now it had become her prison. A place she now felt she had to escape from.

Charlotte longed for a life of fun and romance in the brightly-lit clubs of London. Although they were places she had never seen, except in glossy magazines. She desperately needed to get away...  far away as possible from the dull and solitary greyness of the Devon moors. All in all, everything about Little Dean made her so unhappy that her family and even the house staff thought of her as being a manic depressive.

If it had not been for the arrival of Harry Walker, a very pleasant man who had recently moved into the area, Charlotte would have ended it all. Now she felt sure there was a way forward – a way for her to escape to a new life, a life away from the gloom and misery of Little Dean.

Harry was much older than Charlotte – in fact he was more than double her age – some would say he was more of a father figure. To Charlotte none of this mattered as she had a game plan, besides twenty or more years didn’t matter. She had decided what she wanted, and it didn’t matter how many casualties had to fall on either side.

Charlotte and her mother had been close, but their relationship was now becoming strained. Every time Harry came to visit she was sent away to do something whiles her Father and Mother would chat with Harry in the conservatory about the years gone by.

Charlotte had decided that she would have to do something or her plan would fail. Even though she could see the fear grow on her mothers face whenever Harry came by, it did nothing to dilute her growing rage and anger at being excluded from Harry - her precious Harry - the infatuation of her life.

Rumour had it that Harry had worked in the city, very important they said. But then all had gone wrong for him, one lost deal – a very big deal – and that was the end for him. In his world it seems you're not judged on you success but on your failure, have one and your out. In all honesty it had not all been down to him that the Bank almost went bust, but he got the blame.

Charlotte sat at her dressing table in her room and gazed out onto the cold black lifeless moor. Thoughts raced through her mind, she needed a way of getting her mother out of the way. Charlotte had to find a way so that she could put her plan to work without being caught.

She had toyed with the idea of murder, but rejected it out of hand. Starting to weep Charlotte threw herself onto her bed. A sharp rap on the front door reverberated through Little Dean; it seemed to make the building spring to life, and then came a second rap. Charlotte ran from her room, as she plied the stairs it became a race as she watched her Mother approach the door. Opening the door she held out her arm to push Charlotte back – Charlotte stopped as her body stiffened and her mood became as dark as the hall. What was it with her mother, why did she want to keep her away from Harry, was it spite or was there some dark secret.

Stooping down she picked up a candle stick and swung it towards her mother, before it made contact Harry grabbed her wrist and pulled her close. Charlotte looked into his eyes and instantly she knew the secret of her paternity.

Thank you. It's not my normal genre (Gothic) but I thought I would try something a little different. Tell me what you think, I would appreciate comments.