The family chapel was large, like the inside of a small cathedral. The vaulted ceilings seemed cavernous. The floor and some of the columns were made of khaki-colored marble. Down the center of the chapel was a massive oriental carpet. The altar had silver vases and heavyset candlesticks. Above all this was a very narrow stained glass window, like a bejeweled bracelet in a stone setting. The rest of the chapel was also made of stone and looked like fussily carved icing, as if someone had gone overboard in a cake decorating contest.
Down more corridors and through more doorways, we eventually found a room that appeared to be shoehorned from a well-to-do suburban house into the bowels of the castle. We were in a lounge and office with working electric bar fires and a dropped ceiling. Perhaps this area was used by the family when the gawking hordes had gone.
“This must be the private parts,” said Jessie innocently.
“Not that private, Mum,” I said with a smile.
Losing the Ties that Bind Us
4 weeks ago