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Dinner At The Manor

Beckingridge Manor was a place that many would dream of living in. It was a beautiful old mansion house that had been in the family for generations. They were old money but Jeffrey Beckingridge aka Gramps was who made it really what it was. But behind those mansion walls lay skeletons. Like for instance, Alice Beckingridge. She had been accused of murdering her son. The boy had been born deformed. He had been hidden inside the manor, few even knew of his existence until his life was cut short and his body discovered buried in the Manor House lawns. She’s dead now too so plays little part in the following events.  

Then there was Alice’s sister in law, Elizabeth. Growing up in the world of privilege she had never really learned what it meant to consider others. Spoiled and selfish as you would expect Elizabeth set herself apart from the rest of her family by having a conscience. She did try. What made her the same was she had her skeletons too. The became less over the years with Gramps no longer around to lock them away.  

Elizabeth makes attempts to distract her nephew by hiring a music teacher.

Then there was Alice’s daughter Catherine. School shootings, extorting teachers and running her aunt Elizabeth over with the car so that she now walked with a prosthetic leg. Young Catherine was quite the up and comer. The society pages of the Filton Crier were keeping a very close eye on her indeed. Now she had her own baby, little Vicky. Time would tell where Victoria Beckingridge would fit into her family.  

Probably the most notable in terms reputation would be George. Elizabeth’s nephew and Catherine’s younger brother. He had hit first hit the headlines at age eight when it was he who had discovered his mother’s body. The already famous Beckingridge heir became even more so when he was kidnapped by his music teacher, Vincent Baines. Dead dogs, dead relatives, dead teachers were left behind. If there were a competition for the ûmost skeletons among the Beckingridge’s the safest bet would be George. Psychopathic tendencies is what they say about him but given his status in the city no one seemed prepared to do anything about it. The music teacher instantly regretted his decision to take the boy away from what he felt was a toxic environment. The Manor House was indeed toxic but stealing him away just gave George a whole new playground for ten long years. The musician’s life was made a misery but the family sighed relief being rid of little George for a while. When he was found they would have denied him if they could.  

George and his beloved companion Cecil.

So quite a mess as I’m sure you will agree and it rested on the shoulders of patriarch, Ernest Beckingridge. Sweet natured Ernest didn’t have the bite of his sister, Elizabeth. He didn’t have the iron will of his wife, Alice either. Quite frankly he didn’t have what it took to lead the Beckingridge Empire or keep his son and daughter in line.  

“Stop killing things!” Ernest cried in despair. “Why can’t you just act like a real boy?”  

George grinned. It was only feeding his temperament.  

“It’s okay, baby girl,” Ernest said to Catherine. “We’ll be fine.”  

Ernest Beckingridge has a lot on his shoulders.

Catherine snuggled into her father’s arms. At her age she really should have been learning responsibility but it was easier to hug her and keep her quiet. Ernest wouldn’t be around forever and Catherine was in for a rude awakening when she didn’t have her billionaire father to protect her. Elizabeth tried to warn her brother of this. She had experienced the same thing when Gramps died.  

Disfunction. A term used when a family unit is broken but carries on anyway. Blood is thicker than water. Money and entitlement make you even thicker than that to the ways of the world. But despite all their troubles life at Beckingridge Manor went on. Dinner was always served promptly at eight.  

*** 

The salad course had only just been served. George hadn’t ate much of it. Instead he made a fuss of it with his fork then left the shredded pieces. He had spilled some of them onto the table. Catherine wasn’t paying much attention as usual. With one hand she was trying to feed her baby. Vicky was leaning forward in her high chair trying to catch the spoon in her mouth but her mother’s eyes were too busy reading her phone.  

“George, will you take that disgusting thing off of the table!” Aunt Elizabeth barked.  

It was a stuffed mouse she referred to. It’s fur was matted, the stuffing was crushed and for some reason it smelled like garlic. He named it Cecil and he took it wherever he went.  

George glared at Elizabeth. “Cecil stays here,” he stated.  

“You’re eighteen,” Elizabeth chided. “It’s ridiculous that you would carry that filthy thing around with you.”  

Ernest looked up from his plate. He finally decided to speak up.  

“Come on now George,” he said. “Take it off the table.”  

Elizabeth wasn’t satisfied. “We’re trying to eat here and I need to look at those … stains? What even is that?” she wrinkled her nose. “Never mind. I don’t want to know, just get the damn thing away.”  

George grinned. Seeing his aunt get upset made him giggle. Cecil tended to have that affect on people. 

“May I be excused?” Catherine asked in what should have been a polite request but was instead laced with frustration.  

“No you may not,” Elizabeth said. “If you didn’t have your face stuck in that blasted phone the entire time you would be done by now. Eat your salad.”  

Catherine looked to her father. Ernest raised his eyebrows but said nothing. It wasn’t his problem. He had ate his salad.  

“How is the tuition going, George?” He decided to attempt polite conversation with his son. “Are you coping with it?”  

George wouldn’t be an easy pupil to teach. The general public scoffed at the idea of a grown man removing his pupil from his home only to become the kidnap victim himself but Ernest knew his son. It was indeed very plausible. The most unsettling thing about the whole scenario was how George had returned to the manor after all that time and it seemed like nothing had happened. The Beckingridges could adapt to any scenario. It was what helped them keep the flow of cold hard cash to the city.  

George nodded. “It’s okay.” He looked at Cecil. In his mind Cecil must have said something he didn’t approve of so he knocked him over. He could see Elizabeth stifle a stomach lurch at the toy.  

“And Kappa So?” Asked the father. “It’ll be pledge week soon.”  

Ernest had been a member of the exclusive Filton Fraternity back when he was George’s age. He wasn’t exactly one of the in crowd but Charles ‘Chick’ Owen who was the Chapter Leader at the time accepted him as one of their own. The fraternity was now under the guidance of Chick’s son Buddy. George had taken a shine to him. He even started to imitate him quite a bit, using turns of phrases he wouldn’t normally.  

“Kappa So!” He would scream, already wearing his blazer even though he hadn’t officially been accepted.  

“Buddy said you’re a peg legged whore and the only time you shut up is when you have a dick in your mouth,” George gleefully announced to his aunt.  

“George!” Ernest finally decided to intervene.  

It was too late though. Elizabeth was already on her feet. He had her fork in her her hand, pointing it at her nephew like Satan with his trident. She decided against it. With a clang she dropped the fork onto her plate and lifted her glass of wine instead.  

“Liz!” Ernest tried to stop her but it was too late. She emptied the glass into George’s face.  

“That’s disgusting!” He complained. “It tastes like feet.”  

Elizabeth sat back down. Her scowl had dissolved into a wry smile as she watched George try to dry himself with the table cloth, almost knocking his plate to the floor.  

“Gah!” Vicky started to reach out for her great aunt.  

“May I be excused?” Catherine asked again.  

“No,” Elizabeth barked. “We’re a family and we have dinner together. Even if we must share the table with lunatic Larry over there.”  

Ernest was shaking his head. “Can’t we just have one meal where someone doesn’t empty a glass of wine of another’s head. Don’t we deserve some quiet after everything the family has been through?”  

“Oh Ernest do shut up,” Elizabeth barked.  

Ernest sighed. He attempted to change the subject. It was always especially volatile between George and Elizabeth so he decided to engage his daughter.  

“So Catherine,” he began. “Did Vicky sleep through the night? I don’t believe I heard her.”  

Catherine shrugged. How would she know? If baby Victoria had been screaming merry hell from her nursery it still wouldn’t have been her mother to go and fetch her.  

“I think she was trying to say da da,” Catherine offered.  

Elizabeth was turning her empty wine glass in her hand. “It’s a pity she doesn’t know who Da Da is,” she commented.  

“I hope you choke pills and die you cantankerous old shrew,” Catherine snarled.  

Elizabeth gave a hearty laugh. “Oh Catherine, I wouldn’t have to be cantankerous if you didn’t leave your child for everyone else to look after.”  

Vicky had woken up through the night as it happened. Catherine wouldn’t have known this because she had ignored the baby’s cries until Elizabeth had come to fetch her.  

“Come to me my little darling,” she had heard Elizabeth whisper to her daughter over the monitor in a sweetened tone she used with no one else. It was so alien to her aunt that at first she didn’t realise who it was.  

Catherine raised her finger at her aunt. George was giggling to himself, his fair hair still stained with red wine. Ernest was almost burying his face in what was left of the salad in despair.  

“Can we leave the vulgarity please!” Ernest requested with a little more passion than they were used to. “It’s not for the dinner table.”  

“May I be excused?” Catherine asked again.  

“No.” This time it was her father who requested that she stay.  

“I’m not hungry,” she tried.  

“Maybe not,” said Elizabeth, interrupting Ernest. “But your baby still is.” 

“I have a vulgar story,” George put in. 

“No George,” said Elizabeth. “You don’t.”  

*** 

Later that evening the Beckingridge manor quietened. Elizabeth had decided to take a walk around to try and tire herself out. She sensed that evening would be one where sleep would not come easily. As she passed by Vicky’s nursery she could hear singing. At first she thought it was a figment of her imagination it had been so soft and tender. She recognised the song but couldn’t quite place where from. It was a male voice. Ernest wasn’t an easy sleeper then either so perhaps he had gotten up to spend some time with his granddaughter. Was the song the lullaby their nanny used to sing to them as children? Elizabeth still couldn’t decide. She didn’t want to disturb the sweetness. She actually found herself enjoying the tone. She pushed the door open gently. The nursery was bathed in soft nightlights. Stars danced across the roof. Vicky had pulled herself up onto her feet in her cot. It wasn’t Ernest who was singing to her though. It was George. The lighting had subdued his normally sneering expression. At the least the light had provided some of the softening. Some of the serene look had been given from the way he was watching his niece.  

George loved music lessons as a child.

He hadn’t heard his aunt behind him. His focus remained on his niece. Victoria tried to reach through the bars of her cot to Cecil. 

“No,” said George, again surprisingly calmly. Normally he threw a tantrum when anyone tried to take Cecil. It was ridiculous to see a young man of nineteen who was supposed to lead the Beckingridge Tower one day throw a tantrum like a toddler over a stuffed animal. He smiled at Vicky though. It seemed the after dinner entertainment was called off.  

“You don’t want Cecil,” George explained to the child. “He’s not a nice toy.”  

It had been the first time Elizabeth heard George admit he was a toy. Every other time he was insistent that it was his friend. Elizabeth knew he had just being doing it to create a scene. What frightened her the most about that realisation was that she would have created a scene too if someone irritated her the way she seemed to irritate George.  

George lifted a stuffed monkey and passed it to the infant.  

“Here. You have ‘cheeky monkey,” he said.  

Vicky grinned and clasped the monkey to her chest. Cheeky Monkey looked exactly like the little monkey on the pink onesie she wore.  

“Cheeky Monkey is a much better toy for you,” the uncle explained. Vicky seemed to agree but she kept her eyes on Cecil.  

“Cecil!” Vicky garbled in toddler language pointing to him.  

“That’s right,” George agreed.  

He seemed to take closer note of Vicky behind the bars of her cot.  

“They won’t keep you in here all the time,” George went on. “I won’t let them. It was so easy for them just to lock that door and forget me when I was a little boy. I won’t let them do the same to you. I know it can get scary in here sometimes. The door is heavy and the windows are high up but you won’t be locked in here. You can’t let them see you get angry. That’s when they lock you in here.”  

“Gah?” Vicky said almost agreeing. Her tantrum earlier had seen her banished to the nursery just like Uncle George said.  

“Yeah, that’s right,” said George. “They just lock you in here, sometimes for days. They would always have you smile. They would always have you laugh. You can’t say anything no matter how much you want to scream and rip into someone’s belly. But don’t you worry Vicky. You won’t be like me. You won’t need crusty old Cecil. I won’t let them lock you in here.  

He leaned over and kissed her head. “You are cute!” He gushed.  

Vicky giggled. “Yes you are.”  

“That’s enough George,” Elizabeth finally interrupted.  

George turned round finally paying heed to his aunt’s presence. 

“She was crying,” he said.  

Elizabeth insisted. “Then I’ll see to her.”  

“She wanted me,” George was adamant.  

Vicky lay herself down in her cot, clutching Cheeky Monkey closely. She yawned. George and Elizabeth left her room to let her drift back to sleep.  

“Good night, Aunt Elizabeth,” George said neither sweetly nor sneering. For a few moments he could be mistaken for a real boy.  

“Good night George,” Elizabeth replied.  

“Sleep well,” added the nephew.  

Was that a threat? Was that a genuine request? Was he deliberately being a nice to essentially be an irritating prick? Elizabeth found Ernest in the lounge and when she had relayed to him the conversation she had overhead with Vicky it seemed to make him uneasy. They had locked him away often when he was a child but what choice did they have? He was out of control. Who’s fault was that?  

George pulled the sheets up to his chin. Cecil sat balanced on his belly watching him with his beady black eyes. That was when he heard his door click, locked from the outside.  

Behind those mansion walls lay a whole host of skeletons. The Beckingridge family experts at locking them away.  


The Beckingridge family can buy just about anything. What they can’t buy is peace of mind from the psychopath that lives in the manor with them.  

The Beckingridge family thought they had it made. An obsessed music teacher took their problems away but ten years later it was back in the manor and the teacher in Harbour House rehab.  

Character Profile: Evan Heath

Age: 47

Occupation: BECKINGRIDGE FIRM accounts adviser.

Features in: MAESTRO ; KNOCK KNOCK

A skilled negotiator for the most part, Evan is charming but also very full on. He started his career in sales for COOPER Garage when he was a budding accounts student at FILTON University. With his proven stats behind him he was head hunted for the advice team for Beckingridge Firm. This suited Ethan. BECKINGRIDGE TOWER was the one place in Coldford he wanted to work. There he thrived and there he also met his wife, Sonya.

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Mr and Mrs Heath are two HIGH FLIERS from the Beckingridge Firm

So what exactly does the accounts advice entail? Evan, being a proven salesman with a head for numbers formed a formidable team with his wife. They were placed in charge of bringing in wealthy new clients for the financial giants to invest their money. They were also charged with pushing old clients to invest in new projects. All with that ultimate goal – Cold Hard Cash.

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The Heaths are tough negotiators.

Successful at their job and paid well the Heaths bought a lavish residence in Filton. Fancy cars and expensive restaurants like the DELPHINE are all part and parcel. They just can’t get enough which is why their teenaged son is still sent drug errands to the Shanties.

Times change and the flow of wealth in the Shady City can be treacherous. As music teacher, VINCENT BAINES, watched the Heaths leave for work one fateful morning he couldn’t help but notice that Filton had no soul. Who needs a soul when you can sell it for a mansion house?

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Ernest Beckingridge describes a phone call in the middle of the night that alerted him to trouble with the Heaths at The Tower.

 

Music teacher Vincent Baines shudders when he arrives at the home of his latest pupil. Behind mansion walls are where the true skeletons lie. 

Mr and Mrs Heath found themselves on the wrong side of the Knock Knock Boss Lady. It was time to take a leap of faith. Complete Season 1 of the Knock Knock graphic novel series is free to read here or click below to download for Kindle.

Character profile: George Beckingridge

Age: 18

Occupation: Business student at FILTON UNIVERSITY

Features in: MAESTRO; HARBOUR HOUSE

George is the youngest child and only son of CEO ERNEST BECKINGRIDGE. He is a young man with every possible privilege in life laid at his feet.

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George Beckingridge adjusts himself to life back at the manor.

Having spent 10 years in the hands of a kidnapper, George is still adjusting to life back at BECKINGRIDGE MANOR with his Aunt Elizabeth, his father, sister and his new born niece, Vicky. As accommodating as the manor and its staff can be it seems he isn’t overly excited about being home. He always did find it quite a constricting place when his mind was set on doing whatever he wanted.

He has a psychopathic nature with a wealth and family name behind him that would have him see no consequences. George is a dangerous presence among polite society.

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Beckingridge Manor: Home to the Beckingridge family for generations.

He is rarely found without a stuffed mouse toy named Cecil in his arms. Cecil doesn’t make a fitting accessory for a young Filton man ready to take his place at the top of the BECKINGRIDGE TOWER but those close to George have learned not to try and take it away from him.

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George learns piano from music tutor, Vincent Baines.

Having missed out on a great deal of schooling a team of tutors have been assigned to bring the Billionaire Boy up to speed in preparation for him taking his father’s place at the BECKINGRIDGE FIRM.  There is only one tutor George requests though and that is music teacher, VINCENT BAINES, who had been assigned to him as a boy of eight. George had been quite a handful at the time and his family felt that music lessons would give him something more positive to focus on. The trouble is though, thanks to those lessons Mr Baines is now resident of the rehabilitation facility HARBOUR HOUSE.

OUT NOW.

Little George Beckingridge has become too much for his family to handle. Perhaps music lessons from the talented Mr Baines will give him something more positive to focus on.

For more on Maestro click HERE

Vincent Baines was warned his pupil will be a handful but his obsessions got the better of him. Not to worry though, we cure all kinds of ailments. Welcome resident 1105 to Harbour House.

Financial Plan

All was quiet. ERNEST BECKINGRIDGE was still awake. It was only ten thirty but he and his partner Evelyn were taking the jet on an early commission to Luen in the next morning. A well earned break Ernest agreed. The office had kept him busy lately.

“Maybe we could just go to Luen and stay there,” the financial CEO had jested that afternoon as they sat at their usual table in Delphine – a fine dining restaurant in the wealthy town of FILTON.

“Now how would they ever function without you?” Evelyn put to him.

Ernest knew they would manage just fine. If it weren’t for his name and Gramps’ insistence, Ernest would have been the last person chosen to lead the financial powerhouse based at BECKINGRIDGE TOWER. His novelist sister, Elizabeth, would have been a better fit but his own dreams and aspirations came second to the expectations others had of him holding such a powerful family name.

It was a well earned break though because Ernest worked really hard keeping the board happy. They pulled the strings, he danced, he sang and they laughed as money filled their bellies.

Up and coming high fliers MR AND MRS HEATH had managed to gain an audience with Lynette Fullerton of Fullerton Construction and Joshua Coby of Coby Games. In a joint effort to fund a program to revitalise the SHANTIES.

It was a late hour for a meeting but the Heaths had managed to hold them down before making their way to a party being held in the Penthouse for clients and staff. Lynette Fullerton was an old money name in Coldford. Joshua Coby was new money. The young man was overwhelmed when his software development business became an overnight success with its game LONESOME NIGHTS.

“We’re going to have a bit of a chit chat with them before heading upstairs,” Mr Heath explained confidently that afternoon.

Ernest left them to it. The Heaths were hungry. It was they who had managed to convince Joshua that his money would be safest in the hands of BECKINGRIDGE FIRM.

Ernest had just began to doze off when his phone rang.

“Ernie,” Evelyn shook him. “Ernie, baby, answer the phone.”

Ernest fumbled for his spectacles and lifted the phone. The caller I.D. showed the smiling face of his secretary Bernadette.

“Hello, Bern …

Before Ernest could finish his greeting he was met with sobbing. Ernest sat up properly. Evelyn stirred beside him.

“Bernadette? What’s happened? What’s wrong?”

“They fell!” she wailed. “They fell from the roof.”

Ernest’s heart began to beat harder. He could feel his breath deepen.

“Who fell?” he asked.

Bernadette managed to compose herself enough to speak. “I just stepped out to the court yard for some air and a group of them were on the balcony. They jumped!”

Her voice quietened as she pulled away from the phone. “Is that more?” she asked someone beside her. “No!” she screamed. “Stop them!”

More screams erupted. Ernest could hear every note of fear in the voices of the stragglers, smokers and interested onlookers who had crossed the street from the WEIR HOTEL out of morbid curiosity.

“It’s still happening. That was more of them. I can’t get inside the building.”

“I’ll be there in half an hour. Stay where you are,” Ernest ordered.

He climbed out of bed and pulled a green, woolen pull over from the dresser. He slipped into it without removing the blue cotton pajamas he wore to bed.

“What’s happened?” Evelyn asked.

“I don’t know exactly. There’s been some trouble at the tower. People are jumping from the roof.”

“Oh no!” Evelyn gasped climbing out of bed. “Are you going down there?”

Ernest was now pulling a pair of faded blue jeans over his pajama trousers.

“I have to,” he said.

He tried to bend over to finish dressing. His glasses slipped off. Evelyn crossed the room, lifted his spectacles and affixed them back onto his face for him.

“I’ll come with you,” she stated.

Ernest shook his head. Now he was finally looking a bit more put together.

“I need you to stay here in case the police call.”

By the time Ernest Beckingridge got to the tower that bore his name it was over. The fallen 59 they called them. Clients and staff of the firm, Mr and Mrs Heath included. it would take a lot of cleaning up. Not just the blood, bodies or despair that littered the court yard where the statue of Jeffrey Beckingridge stood.

It was a long way down from the top.

Ernest is called to give evidence in the trial of KNOCK KNOCK Boss Lady, Tabitha. Giving an account of an event known as the Free Fall Massacre.

Click HERE to read Knock Knock Episode 17:

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The rest of the series is free to read HERE on Vivika Widow Online or you can download for kindle by clicking HERE.

KNOCK, KNOCK: Episode 1: Welcome to the Club

Knock, Knock: Episode 2: Don’t Come Knockin’

Knock, Knock: Episode 3: Sleep Tight Sam

Knock, Knock: Episode 4: Take A Bow

Knock, Knock: Episode 5: A Room With A View

Knock, Knock: Episode 6: Picking Up Strange Women

Knock, Knock: Episode 7: No Kids Allowed

Knock, Knock: Episode 8: Kids These Days

Knock, Knock: Episode 9: Shootin’ The Breeze

Knock, Knock: Episode 10: Calling Last Orders

Knock Knock: Episode 11: Shady City Blues

Knock Knock: Episode 12: Going Down

Knock Knock: Episode 13: Got the Fever

Knock Knock: Episode 14: Laying Down the Law

Knock Knock: Episode 15: Still I Stand

Knock Knock: Episode 16: Start Spilling

That’s not the only trouble at Beckingridge Manor. Ernest’s son, George, has been a complete handful lately. Enlisted to help is handsome, talented music teacher VINCENT BAINES in the hope that music lessons can give the little boy something more positive to focus on.

Click HERE to read Vivika Widow’s hit novella MAESTRO.

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A Long Fall from the Top

A husband and wife team. Mr and Mrs Heath are the dynamo duo of the BECKINGRIDGE FINANCIAL FIRM. They are the leading investment consultants and have brought more clients in in their time that most of the other long standing members of the team.

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The logo for the Beckingridge Financial Firm.

The live fast. They sell hard. They fall far.

They enjoy a fancy life in the expensive FILTON district. In order to keep that up though someone has to pay. That’s where the wide smiles for their clients come in. They will sit you down, offer you a cup of tea and before the end of the meeting you will be rest assured that your money is in the safest hands in the Shady City. After all, with a son, Taylor, to put through University the Heaths know the importance of money and the family unit.

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The entrance to Beckingridge Tower. Statue of founder Jeffrey Beckingridge aka Gramps greets.

BECKINGRIDGE TOWER may seem intimidating, cold and soulless even but let the Heaths explain the exciting vision they have for your money and you will feel like you are in your own living room. You will become part of the Beckingridge family.

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The Boss Lady’s view over the incident known as the Free Fall Massacre.

But wait! Before you sign on the dotted line let us just offer one last piece of advice. The Shady City functions on COLD HARD CASH. The larger the pile you have the further you have to fall.

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It was an event known as the Free Fall Massacre. Beckingridge Tower would never be the same. Those passing would remember the bodies of the fallen 59 that littered the court yard.

Complete season 1 of the Knock Knock graphic novel series is free to read HERE.

Or click HERE to download for Kindle.

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