Decaying Castle Green House, Cardigan, is now in the process of being rescued by the local community. Left to slide into dereliction for many years, the regency villa inside the castle walls has long been overgrown. The Green is an overgrown wilderness, while trees have become almost jungle-like in their growth. High up on one of the trees, sharp eyes can still detect a few strands of frayed rope, all that remains of the strange fate of Robert Conyers. An animal rights activist, Conyers planned an attack on an investment banker who handled the account of a major research laboratory. The attack left the man dead, while his wife committed suicide a few months later, after receving constant hate-mail.
Conyers forgot about the incident and he prospered. Five years later, the man, by now a successful film producer, was called to Cardigan Castle by a starley with whom he was having an affair, in a letter on paper headed, 'Castle Green House Hotel,' bearing an engraving of the house. He was able to book a room, calling a Ceredigion number. When he arrived, however, he found a deserted, shaggy ruin. Looking around, he felt a stab of fear...
Friday, October 06, 2006
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5 comments:
A starley, Scruff tells me, is one or two degrees below a starlet.
Five degrees, but who's counting?
Well, Scruff's not the most organised or accurate person in the world. I'm not counting. But I do have a quiet table for two booked at a little restaurant in London, and I'm counting on you to turn up there. If Ms Madison is nervous I can have another table bookd for her and Scruff.
I'll certainly be there.
I'll tell Scruff. You'll like her.
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