Hollow Earth by John Barrowman, Carole E. Barrowman Read Free Book Online Page B

told Sandie in a low voice.
    Her heart fluttering, Sandie lifted the satchel and her bag out of the car, crossed the courtyard and went inside through two massive, oak doors set in an arched, medieval portal.
    ‘Now, you two,’ said Simon, turning back to the twins. ‘Let’s head down to the jetty first.’
    He led Matt and Em through the tower’s arched gate to the rear of the Abbey. They walked along a path that wound its way through vegetable gardens and flowerbeds, bordered by the same ancient stone wall.
    ‘Do you like to garden?’
    ‘We live … lived in a flat in London,’ answered Matt. ‘We grew some herbs once in a pot.’
    Simon laughed. ‘Our housekeeper, Jeannie, will be recruiting you both, I’m sure. These are her gardens, and she grows most of what she cooks for us.’
    ‘What if you want a burger?’ asked Em, not a vegetable lover.
    ‘That she negotiates with the local butcher.’
    They left the secluded garden path and walked out of the shade across a manicured lawn. On the far horizon, the islands their mum had pointed out to them loomed even larger, and in every direction on the water, there were boats of all sizes. The closer the three of them came to the water, the less perfect the lawn became, until it eventually rolled into a rocky shoreline and a pebbled beach. The jetty looked modern but well used, with two bench seats at the end. The linked boathouse was a heavy wooden structure, built to withstand the powerful winds and storms coming off the Atlantic.
    ‘Do either of you like to fish?’
    Matt and Em looked at each other. In unison, they shrugged.
    ‘Never done it,’ said Matt.
    ‘That’ll change, too.’
    Matt and Em were still a bit stunned by the sheer size of the Abbey, its grounds and its breathtaking vistas, but Matt in particular was in awe of the Celtic tower perched on the point of the smaller island across the water.
    ‘It’s pretty impressive, isn’t it?’ Simon said, noting Matt’s interest.
    The three of them walked out to the end of the jetty.
    ‘I’ve read a lot of books about ruins and castles,’ said Matt. ‘But nothing compares to actually seeing it.’
    ‘He’s a dork about that kind of stuff,’ Em cut in.
    Matt ignored his sister’s taunt. He was far more interested in the history looming in front of him. ‘Why would monks have a watchtower built over there on the smaller island and not over here?’
    Simon hesitated for a beat. ‘I think the answer has something to do with the smaller island being the first line of defence during an invasion. The tower would have had a better view of the sea to the north, which was the direction most of the invaders, especially the Vikings, would have come from. But you’ll learn about all that when you start your lessons.’
    ‘Lessons? We’re going to go to school here?’ asked Em incredulously.
    ‘Yes, Em,’ said Simon, smiling at her reaction. ‘Your grandfather and I will be your teachers at the Abbey. Now, shall we continue our tour?’
    The twins were so stunned by this information that they simply nodded.
    Em and Simon walked back up the jetty to the shore, but Matt stayed behind, staring at the tower. It didn’t make any sense. When masons built these lookout towers, their primary function was to warn the castle’s inhabitants or the surrounding town of approaching invaders. Usually a lookout would ring the bell at the top of the tower and, if necessary, fire flaming arrows or catapult pots of boiling tar at the invaders to slow their advance. And sometimes, but not very often, the towers were used to protect people from the invaders. This tower was far too narrow to protect more than a few people. Not only that, but its position and its few arrow slits were all wrong for fending off invaders.
    ‘Matt, are you coming?’ called Simon.
    Matt ran along the jetty to catch up, deciding that this was a pretty cool place. The Abbey was as impressive at the back as at the front, but for different