‘The full guided tour,’ he answered, starting up the engine. Within minutes they were breezing along the country roads, blasting out Stereophonics.
‘Maybe tomorrow, I’ll find my way home…’
Cassie looked sideways at him. How apt were those lyrics?
It didn’t take them too long to arrive over the bridge entering the city. She marvelled at the skyline, seeing the castle, the priory next door, the Ashton memorial and the church spires. It was a splendid, historic place, oozing with character. Lancaster had everything, links to the past, but also a lively student vibe. There was a canal and a quay built in the eighteenth century during its Golden Age as a port, and beautiful acres of parkland with enchanting woodland walks. Rory parked outside the castle.
‘Come on, we’ll go on a guided tour.’
Cassie enjoyed listening to the guide as they walked through the dark stone passageways, hearing about the trial of the Pendle witches, who had been imprisoned there centuries ago, in the cells at the bottom of the castle. The magnificent halls were still used as court rooms, which she found extraordinary.
‘The castle and courts coexist,’ the guide had told them. It was a touch eerie seeing where the criminals were hanged, but darkly interesting.
After the tour, Rory put an arm round her shoulders. ‘Let’s go for a drink.’ He ushered her down the steps to an aged pub. They were actually underground. ‘There’s a secret tunnel from here to the castle,’ he told her. ‘It was used to store gunpowder at one time.’
‘Really?’ Cassie’s eyes widened.
‘Yes, then it became a cellar.’
Cassie could see three tunnels running from the bar area. It was easy to imagine all the wine bottles lining the curved walls. She found the whole experience amazing.
‘Let’s have lunch here,’ she said, taken by her surroundings.
‘OK,’ he smiled.
‘Let’s sit…’ she eyed each tunnel area; one was upmarket with raspberry-striped seating and tall tables, another more basic with wooden pews and stools; the middle tunnel was a comfortable dining area with spotlights and pale grey panelling. ‘In here.’ She made her way into the dining area.
Cassie sat back and enjoyed watching Rory order their food at the bar. He stood tall and confident, but in an unaffected way. He was friendly to the guy serving, asking for his recommendation of wine. She liked his easy manner, suspecting that not many of the finest barristers would have the same grounded way about them. She couldn’t imagine the pompous, middle-class set asking what wine to buy.
‘Here we are.’ He passed her a glass of white while he’d ordered a cappuccino for himself. ‘So, what do you think of Lancaster so far?’
‘I’ve always liked it, but I’ve never been round the castle, and this is a fascinating old pub, isn’t it?’ Her eyes scanned the curved stone walls again.
‘It is,’ he nodded. ‘Takes me back to my student days.’ Then he blew on his coffee and took a gulp. Cassie laughed.
‘What?’ he asked, somewhat bemused at her response.
‘You. You make me laugh.’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know.’ She shrugged. ‘Just your down-to-earth way, that’s all.’
He frowned. ‘Why shouldn’t I be down to earth?’
‘Because a lot of people in your position, wouldn’t be. They’d be… superior, toffy—’
‘Like your ex?’ he cut in with a smirk.
‘Yes,’ she laughed again, ‘like Justin.’
‘Well,’ he reached out for her hand and kissed it, ‘I am most definitely not like that banker.’ His blue eyes twinkled. Cassie let out another yelp of laughter.
The day continued with the same banter flowing as Rory pointed out different points of interest. They walked to Dalton Square, a lovely restful place with benches and trees scattered with tea lights; one would never guess it was where the infamous Dr Buck Ruxton had lived, making national news in the 1930s after murdering his wife and house maid. Rory then drove them past his old grammar school and on to his parents’ house.
‘I would call in, but they’re staying at my brother’s in Kent at the moment,’ Rory explained. Cassie took in the modest semi-detached house off the main road and tried to picture a young Rory being brought up there. On the way back, he detoured past Lancaster University.
‘It looks fairly modern, doesn’t it?’ she remarked at its flat angular roofs, with turquoise and orange walls.
