The Orb of Alberston

By JD Cooper

Garrett Irwin sets sail across the Atlantic to carry out a simple task-close down and sell off the Worthing Estate.
But an anonymous letter warns him to beware of strange events happening at the house-of mysterious lights, and people from other times appearing and disappearing.
Sent into an unknown world Garrett must battle time, enemies known and unknown and his own fatal illness if he is to succeed.
Will Garrett complete his task before his own time runs out?
Find out in this Gothic novel-with a twist!

• Language: English
• Publisher: JD Cooper
• Release date: Dec 27, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005885915

JD Cooper

Writing a bio about me, the author, seems a little weird, so what can I tell you about JD Cooper. JD Cooper was born at some stage and is probably a bit older than some people, but not everyone. He would be a man and I would think he would live with his wife, dog and his laptop, lets say....near a beach. On windy days there would be nothing better for him to do than walk hand in hand with his wife, and throwing a stick for his dog. His dog wouldn't run after it and his wife would give him 'that' look - the one that says "well you threw it ! " I dont know about you but that sounds pretty good to me.....and I'm not even JD Cooper.

Book preview

Introduction - a rude awakening

I looked out at the grey sea as it heaved and churned over and over again, lashing the sides of the ship. I had been aboard the SS Hummel for nearly two weeks now, having left my parents in New York on a rainy winter's morning.

My father had advised me not to go, telling me to leave the matter to the English as no good would come of it. An American would not be welcome at the Worthing Estate and especially not when they found out why I was there, he had warned.

I had told my father that I had no choice, we would be paid handsomely whatever the task, and that I could not pick and choose what assignments I worked on anymore. Besides, the English winter could not be harsher than those we had been having in New York recently, and it might do me some good to get away from America for a while. It might help me come to terms with my illness and forget about my now former fiancée Rebecca.

Ah, Rebecca. Just the thought of her was enough to start me off on another coughing fit, and I knew where that led. Some three months ago she had sent a carriage for me and requested that I attend her family home, and I had duly complied.

I had been confined to my bed the previous week by the physician and told that my illness would more than likely take me from this world within the year. The physician had been business-like and had left no room for debate or misunderstanding.

The same could also have been said about Rebecca on that bright morning as I had stepped down from the carriage and been admitted to the house by the manservant, Whitman

Good morning, Sir, a crisp one today he said as he rubbed his gloved hands together

It is indeed Whitman, how are you today? I enquired

I am well Sir, and I hope you are too. But my advice would be to turn around now and get your driver to whip those horses as hard as he can back down the drive

Whitman?

She's in a dark mood, and no mistake he advised as he bade me enter the drawing room.

Miss Rebecca will be down shortly Sir….though there's still time to escape. I think your driver is still in sight

No. I said Thank you for your counsel, Whitman, but it can't be that bad. Nothing a little tea and sympathy won't put right, I'm sure

Maybe Sir, but she's not asked me to serve you tea.

Rebecca was never what you'd call a prompt sort of girl, and at first it had been kind of endearing, although now it was wearing a bit thin, but she had so many other qualities I was happy to let this little foible go.

Half an hour later, with my mind still mulling over as to whether this was just a little foible or something a bit more engineered, my question was answered when Rebecca entered the room. She was accompanied by her aunt Eleanor, as she often was, and I didn't think too much of it at first.

I stood as the two ladies entered and took up positions on a low two-seater settee near the window.

Rebecca. Miss Forsyth. Good day I offered.

Garrett

Mr Irwin came the replies.

Nothing more,  no enquiry as to my health or my views on the weather.

How are you both today? Miss Forsyth, are you recovered from your cold?

Yes.  Thank you. Quite recovered she replied.

And you, Rebecca, are you well, you've not suffered also?

"No Garrett,  I am well thank you. I need to speak with you,

and I fear this will be uncomfortable,  at least for one of us" she said as she turned her head and looked out the window and down the drive.

Rebecca seemed distracted and though I tried not to, I couldn't shake the feeling she was waiting for someone's arrival and more importantly,  at least for her, for my departure.

Rebecca, what is it, what uncomfortable news do you have for me, are you unwell, are you suffering in some other way?

No. Garrett. I am not suffering, but I feel that our arrangement needs to be terminated

Just like that.

Rebecca, please? I will not beg, but we are engaged to be married, that is not just ‘some arrangement’, surely. What is the cause of this, what is the issue? Could you at least explain that to me.

I had been distracted by this sudden news and had not noticed another carriage come up the driveway until its occupant was admitted to the drawing room where we stood. The man that entered I knew well, for it was my former roommate at college Jon Maxwell

Irwin

Maxwell

We greeted each other, but not like the former roommates that we once were.  I was suspicious of the timing of Jon’s visit, and he seemed somewhat startled to see me here, probably more correctly, still here.

Have you told him Rebecca? Have you told him about us, how did he take it?  Look Irwin, no hard feelings. I'm sure Rebecca has explained her reasons by now. I didn't expect you still to be here under the circumstances Jon said.

Jon. Rebecca. I will save any unpleasantness, especially in front of Miss Forsyth. Congratulations to you both and I wish you only happiness for your future. I take it Rebecca that me not having a future of my own past next year may have influenced your decision. It would have been nice to hear it from your lips, rather than to presume I countered

At this Rebecca sniffed quietly, into her handkerchief, stood and with Miss Forsyth, left the room. And that was that I had entered the room as an engaged and happy man and would leave…as what? An unhappy bachelor? No. I wasn't unhappy, it was more like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders.

Oh, I had been in love with Rebecca, was in love with Rebecca, but with my future far from assured what could I really offer her, in all probability just a short marriage and then the black trappings of widowhood.

I think given more time she had wanted me to end things, but selfishly I could not bring myself to do so, perhaps this way was better for both of us. I turned to Maxwell and wished him a good day. I could not speak to him then, and I have not spoken to him since.

Whitman arranged a carriage for me and as I waited, I realised it was he who I would miss the most when I left the house for the last time.

I stood with him and talked, and when the carriage arrived, I shook his hand and bade him farewell.

It is for the best Sir, I'm certain of that. You are better off far away from here he advised me.

Whitman, I thank you for all the years of wise counsel and will miss you. If you ever find yourself at a loss, employment wise, here is my card. My father is aware of you and would pay generously for someone with your skills.

Thank you, Sir, that is kind. I will certainly bear it in mind he replied as he closed the carriage door.

I watched him from the rear window and thought how sad that I most likely would not see him again.

James Greenleaf and the letter

That was only three months ago, and yet it seemed a lifetime had passed. I had come to terms with my single life again and had thrown myself into my work. Rebecca and Jon had been engaged to be married only a few weeks after I had seen her for the last time and rumours abounded as to why so quickly, but they were not my concern, and I will therefore tarry no longer on that situation.

I was, as I have mentioned, aboard a steamship, and bound for England, to the Worthing Estate to be precise. But whilst I was going to use the time I had left wisely, and try to enjoy each remaining day I had, I knew that my presence there would not be welcomed and not many people would enjoy it.

My outward task, my 'cover story' if you will, was that I was going to the estate to conduct a full audit of the house, the staff and all the attached businesses that drew townsfolk to it, with a view to someone purchasing it.

In reality though my job was pure and simple - shut the place down.

An anonymous client had contacted my father, Stewart Irwin, at our business premises and made that request, and that I specifically,  took on the assignment. There had been a number of letters to and from a postal service that shielded my father from knowing who was offering such a large sum, for what seemed a straightforward task - go there, assess, strip, close.

My father told me that the sum was too much to turn down and that he was going to use the fee to send me to the best hospital for my condition.

These matters normally took three months and whilst I was not conceited enough to believe I could conclude things much sooner I feared what would happen if I took much longer.  If I was to die, I wanted it to be on American soil, not thousands of miles away in an unwelcoming house.

My journey had been uneventful so far and whilst I did enjoy travelling by ship, I had not been myself on this particular voyage. Something nagged at me, and my nights were restless as I tossed and turned in my cabin. I was beset with the feeling of foreboding, that something awaited me, something I could not describe or give any shape too. 

I had attended the evening meals aboard the ship and partaken in its fine dining and wines.  I had had pleasant conversations over the table and afterwards whilst walking and smoking the occasional cigar, though I knew I should not.

I had noticed an odd fellow on board, a man who seemed to be watching me but when I approached him he always seemed to be just around the corner, and out of my reach. 

I wanted to speak to this man who seemed interested in me, and I wanted to know why. Eventually after a few days, and towards the end of my journey we came across each other whilst standing on the deck.  Though it was cold I wanted air, I needed space from the bustle of the evening meal, and it appeared that the man felt the same. As it turned out I need not have chased him any further as he approached me.

Mr Irwin? he enquired.

Yes.  I am Garrett Irwin. I’m sorry you will have to excuse me as I don't think we have been introduced and I don't know how you know my name.

The man pointed to two deck chairs nearby and as he stubbed out his cigar he waited as he offered me the choice of which seat, I wanted.  It was settled then - I was to sit with a man I did not know and listen to him.  I was curious and so, with nothing much else to do I sat.

He sat next to me, drew a hip flask from his coat and handed it to me.  It was cold and so I partook of the warming golden liquid and thanked him. I handed the flask back to him and as it disappeared into his large black coat he coughed lightly and spoke

You will have to excuse me Mr Irwin, I have not introduced myself. I am James Greenleaf; I am an employee of your father’s client. I have been asked to ensure that you reach your destination - that being Southampton as far as I am concerned, after that you're on your own.

Greenleaf looked about as if he were being overheard and continued

Personally, I would run a mile. I would disembark and get the same ship back to the States as soon as it's ready to sail. The Worthing Estate is not what it seems, hence my employers wish to have it closed down.  We have tried for many years to close it down but without success. My associates have tried before, but not returned from England and they have not been heard of since.  Think very carefully Mr Irwin before you go there.

I was stunned.

Explain yourself Greenleaf. Tell me now why it needs to be closed down, and why, specifically, did your employer choose me to do his bidding? I demanded.

I cannot say exactly what is wrong with the place, for I have not been there, only that it is not what it seems. It draws a bad energy to it and to all those who enter it, a terrifying and draining energy, I am told.  Why you? Specifically, you? I do not know. Personally, I would think that, without putting too fine a point on it, you are dispensable, bearing in mind your condition, maybe you can try, and if, or rather when you fail to carry out my employers wishes you will be thought to have died naturally from your illness.

As opposed to what? Does everyone know my personal business? I have told no one except my parents and they would not inform others of my situation.  Aren't physicians supposed to be bound to some form of secrecy? Is nothing sacred anymore?

No. Probably not, and there is nothing sacred about where you are headed. If I cannot persuade you from going there, then maybe you should speak to the people in the nearby village of Alberston. They will tell you stories of first-hand knowledge of the goings on at the estate. That is all I can say, and I must leave you now Mr Irwin. I wish you well, whatever your decision and with that the man stood, tipped his hat to me, and seemed to almost disappear from my view within seconds. He was there….and then he was not.

Two days later I disembarked the SS Hummel when it arrived at Southampton. I stood on the dock as my cases were found and loaded into my carriage and though I looked for him I saw nothing of Greenleaf.  I was perplexed and so I enquired of the steward standing at the gangway.

Let me check the manifest Sir, Greenleaf you say? Like the poet? the steward remarked

Poet? I queried

Yes Sir, John Greenleaf Whittier? He wrote ‘Don't quit’ at least that's what everybody says it's called - do you know it? It's very inspiring the steward let me know

I'm sure it is, steward, thank you….but

The steward looked down on his manifest sheet and then up at me

No Sir. No one of that name embarked the Hummel in New York and so he couldn't disembark here. Could he have used another name and was, you know, pulling your leg Sir? the steward offered

No. I don't think so. I spoke with him, we had a conversation, on the deck

Sorry Sir. No Greenleaf.

I thanked the steward and boarded my carriage, my mind racing as to why a man with whom I had spoken was not on the manifest, but more what he had said to me about the Worthing Estate. A terrifying and draining energy - superstitious nonsense surely? I would go to the estate, conduct my work as swiftly and thoroughly as I could and return to America.

The carriage journey was uneventful and as I sat inside, and the driver outside I had no room for conversation.  Instead, I read and reread the letter my father’s client had initially sent him:-

‘Dear Mr Irwin,

Thank you for responding promptly to my urgent request.

You come highly recommended, and I have faith that your son will be able to conduct this matter with all due haste.

There have been reports of strange happenings at the estate during the nights and the days go by when no one is seen out of their rooms.

There have been reports of strange lights coming from the house at night and noises to make the blood curdle.

Were you to accept this task your son should take the utmost care when dealing with the staff there. He should not trust what they say and let them know only what he must.

I urge you extreme caution in this matter and will pay three times your usual rate for this type of service were you to accede to my request. 

Please take this letter as my authority to use any possible means to bring closure to this whole saga, it has gone on far too long……

The letter was unsigned but gave the correspondence address of a solicitor in the city whom my father knew, but when we checked he could only tell us what we already knew from the letters and that in any event he did not know who his client was, which he said was not unusual in some cases.

My father and I had talked about this matter over and over. I was keen, as three times our usual fee plus expenses was a large sum of money and my father would clear sufficient funds to easily keep his business running, for as it was, things were very tight at the moment, and he knew he could not pick and choose who he worked for.  We talked of the content of the letters and his view was that though the money was tempting we had to find out more about the estate before we agreed.

However, try as we might, we could find nothing about the estate other than its location and broad history.  It was not known who currently owned it and so we were sorely taken aback when we asked the anonymous client who said, they did. That then begged the question, why did they want it closed down?

Arriving at the Worthing Estate

Having stayed overnight halfway through my journey we arrived at the estate in the early morning.  My cases were swiftly placed on the ground near the front door, and without waiting for a tip my driver mounted his box seat and whipping the horses, sped off down the drive like the devil himself was after him.

I was left standing at the front door in the brisk English air, my breath making whirls of mist in front of me - like I was smoking an illicit cigar - what bliss that would have been !

I tugged on the doorbell pulley and heard the resultant clang from within the hall. A few moments later a liveried man answered my call, and I could not believe who I was looking at

Whitman?

No Sir, I am Tennyson, like the poet, although I believe your Mr Whitman may have written a few lively ditties in his time?

Oh. Good morning, Tennyson. You have a twin in the United States of America, an  identical twin

No Sir. I do not. I was a single child I am told the man said with no humour in his voice at all.  He stood bolt upright and filled his livery in all areas, and whilst he was exceptionally thin, he seemed to block the doorway and I could see nothing behind him.  It was as if he was guarding the entrance into the house, which I suppose was amongst his duties.

I am Garrett Irwin. I have been sent…

To conduct an audit, I believe. Yes Sir, please excuse me. Let me have your cases brought in and as he looked behind me at my luggage he suddenly shouted

Bamford

At which a young boy, of no more than twelve years old came running from within the house.  He nodded politely to me and went to collect my cases which I have to say were bigger than him.  When he started to struggle, I went to assist him, but Tennyson barked

Leave him Sir. He has to learn. He needs to build his strength up.  This way if you will

That's alright Tennyson. I don't mind helping him, he's only a young lad after all

Leave him Sir. This way please he insisted as he stood aside to allow me entry.

I mouthed an apology to the young boy and followed Tennyson into the hall.  I accepted his offer of tea and was placed in a library just next to what I thought was a ballroom.  Tennyson advised me that my luggage would be taken to my rooms, and I was left alone.

The room was like any other English library I suppose, in that it had floor to ceiling books, most of which it seemed had not been read in years. There was dust over many of them so thick you could have written your name in it.  I liked reading and browsed through some of the titles but did not recognise any of them. Many were in foreign languages, some of which I did not know although some were in Latin which I had a passing grade in. It was as I was walking around the library when the door opened, and a young maid entered.

Good morning, Sir. I have tea for you. Would you like me to pour? she asked

Yes. Thank you. I am Garret Irwin, and you are?

I am Daisy, Sir. I am the maid here. I live here as well, but I used to live in the village, do you know it, though probably not, as you are….

Foreign?

Not English I meant, sorry Sir

American. I am an American Daisy. Have you not met an American before?

"No Sir. I haven't. I