You Promised

Chapter Twenty

Adam laughs, his fingers intwined in my hair. His forehead rests against mine as we sit on the bench in Oxford. The wind whips through my cocoa-brown hair as we look out on the square that is bustling with people. We came on the train into town for a day out together shopping.
   'Where do you want to go?' I ask him as we begin to stand up and walk down a small street towards the Main Street.  The shutters whack against the stone buildings making a cracking sound in time with our footsteps. The grey sky is scarcely viewable from underneath the lampposts and bunting.
   'Where do you want?' Adam asks, pulling me to his side and keeping me there. I wrap my arm around him as we struggle against the strong wind.
   'Its not the best day for shopping.' I concede. 'The bags would be impossible to keep a hold of.' I say while using my other arm to keep my hat on my head.
    'Do you want to go home?' He shouts, trying to be heard over the wind.
    I really don't want the day with Adam to end, but this is a day impossible to enjoy.
    'We really can't do anything in this weather.' I say begrudgingly. 'But let's not go home yet, maybe the weather will let up! Is there anything to see here?'
    'Its a good idea. Have you ever been to Oxford Castle?'
     I shake my head. So, we head to the bus. The red bus halts to let us on and we sit down the back looking out the windows. The city blurs past us while we sit together in the relative warmth of the bus. I scrape my hair out of my eyes until Adam gently helps me, his fingers softly caressing my cheeks. The sound of hail soon bombards the roof of the bus and those sitting upstairs on our open-topped bus quickly surrender and come downstairs. Soon, we arrive at the castle. 
    There is a giant tower on one side that has tall turrets on its top. The door has two small windows above it that look like eyes. The stonework is beautiful but the few big windows have bars over them, making this castle look more like a fort. The castle walls surround a giant cobbled courtyard which the rain seems to bounce off of.  Adam puts his coat around me, leaving his own shirt clinging to his muscled arms. We run to a stony overhang and Adam shakes his head, sending water droplets flying everywhere. I wring out my own hair and scour the walls for the way inside. We quickly find the door and sprint across the yard to reach it.
   We come into a reception and I flap my arms to shake off the water from Adam's coat.   I fold it over my arm as we make our way towards the desk. An old woman hunches on a stool behind a wooden box. We hand her the fee, while she examines us over her spectacles. She nods to a doorway as she stuffs our pounds into the wooden box. We walk to the door and Adam politely holds it open for me.
   We enter the front hallway and I admire the family crests that adorn the walls. They give the otherwise stony grey room a splash of colour with sparkling gold and royal blue on shields of blood red. There is a giant bear fur lying on the floor in front of the fire. A red carpet guides our way down the hall towards a giant pair of elk antlers that overshadow the two cracking bookcases beside it.
    A woman shuffles down the hallway towards the group of us. The group consists of Adam and I, two men who are very clearly tourists, an elderly couple and a family of six. The tour guide introduces herself as Doris. Adam snorts beside me and rolls his eyes as one of the tourists who was wearing a plastic crown and a tie with rainbows on it, winks at me. I hide my face and pretend to gag. Adam laughs and pulls me along with him as Doris shows us around. As Doris prattles on about an old chair I look out the window. The weather is clearing and I'm starting to wish we hadn't bothered paying the £7 pounds each it took to get in here. We move from room to room until we are finally lead down a narrow, winding staircase into the basement which looks considerably more like a prison.
    'The castle was originally built in 1071 for William the Conqueror, to enable the Normans to control the area. A prison was built within the castle, which is still mostly in use.' Drones the tour guide. I look about the basement at the long, slim pillars that arch into the ceiling. I glance at Adam and stifle a laugh as he pretends to shoot himself while the tour guide entertains us with a story about the old groundskeeper.
   Soon, we return to the surface and tip-toe around the giant puddles of the courtyard. We then go into the family chapel. Up high in the rotting rafters, swaying gently, are two giant flags. One is, obviously, the British flag to which our elderly companion salutes. The other is the family crest of the last people who owned it. The emerald green intertwined with the gold threads shines in the dwindling daylight and creates a tunnel of light onto the altar.