was no closer to ‘what she was thinking’ than before.
All this mystery was beginning to excite him, to exert some allure on his feverish imagination, for he reasoned that if someone had taken such great pains to hide a Key-Ring, then it must be of great significance. Great-Grandmother had never struck him as one given to frivolity. No, her purpose would become clear in time, he was sure. Until then, Kevin thought, reluctantly leaving the study with the book tucked firmly under his arm.
It had been a fine adventure.
Chapter 3: Through the Veil
K evin was dozing in the Library when Aunt Beatrice woke him.
“ Rise and shine, sleepyhead,” she cooed, shaking his shoulder gently, but with a certain implacable air common to retired schoolteachers everywhere. “Fancy nodding off at two o’clock! Why, you are missing a beautiful day. And how is my favourite nephew?”
“Hmm?”
“I must advise, my dear boy, that you should not snore with your mouth open so. A bird might build its nest in there and that would be frightfully amusing.”
Kevin closed his mouth with a snap and sat up, pulling his bathrobe straight. What time was it? What day? He had asked Albert to call Aunt B first thing. Had he found the Blue Room only last night? Leaping lizards!
“Aunt B! Did you fly here?”
“All the better to see you, my dear.” She tittered at her joke, patting an imaginary stray hair back into its rightful position. Aunt Beatrice was very proper and formal at all times, and always impeccably turned out. She reminded Kevin of a wren, for she had a tiresome habit of pecking at fluff wherever she could find it–as she did now, plucking a thread off his bathrobe. “Faithful Albert delivered your message this morning. He has been a Jenkins family servant all his life, did you know? And his dear mother before him, who was my nurse when I was young.”
“Is that so?” He could not imagine Aunt B as a girl, for she was a contemporary of his grandmother’s–she was his great-aunt, strictly speaking, but insisted on just ‘Aunt’ rather than ‘Great-Aunt’. ‘We’d rather not give my age away, dear!’ she had once explained. Aunt B she had been ever since.
“I owe you an apology,” said Aunt B, who had not even removed her coat. “You caught me on my way to London–a dreadful business, that’s what it is. Perfectly horrid. Ivy, one of my oldest and dearest friends, has had a bad fall and is in hospital as we speak with a broken hip. At her age, too, she should not be climbing on chairs to reach into cupboards. It was fortunate that one of the neighbours heard the crash and came to investigate, for Victoria has lived all on her own since her Harry died of the pneumonia in sixty-four, and has nobody to look after her, the poor dear. I shall be her only friend and comforter.”
Kevin smiled at her martial attitude. She had served during the war, a most enthusiastic supporter of the cause. As it was, she had enough projects and good works on the boil at any one time to make one’s head spin.
“I must confess,” she continued, “that your note proved a trifle cryptic, even by your obtuse standards. I was quite unable to decipher it. Hence my flying visit, for which I must offer my most profuse apologies. You do understand?”
“I understand,” he said dutifully. “I must not delay you. I’m sure that this matter can wait upon your return.”
“James has the Jaguar purring outside this very moment,” she said, referring to her driver. Father had dismissed James soon after they took over the Jenkins estate, Kevin recalled; even then he had been a silver-haired grandfather figure. “He’s a real old devil sometimes–overly fond of breaking the speed limit, you know. He shall fly me to London as on a magic carpet.”
Kevin , who from his bedroom window had on occasion marvelled at the familiar green Jaguar’s velocity as it raced up the long driveway to Pitterdown Manor, gave a dry little chuckle.
All this mystery was beginning to excite him, to exert some allure on his feverish imagination, for he reasoned that if someone had taken such great pains to hide a Key-Ring, then it must be of great significance. Great-Grandmother had never struck him as one given to frivolity. No, her purpose would become clear in time, he was sure. Until then, Kevin thought, reluctantly leaving the study with the book tucked firmly under his arm.
It had been a fine adventure.
Chapter 3: Through the Veil
K evin was dozing in the Library when Aunt Beatrice woke him.
“ Rise and shine, sleepyhead,” she cooed, shaking his shoulder gently, but with a certain implacable air common to retired schoolteachers everywhere. “Fancy nodding off at two o’clock! Why, you are missing a beautiful day. And how is my favourite nephew?”
“Hmm?”
“I must advise, my dear boy, that you should not snore with your mouth open so. A bird might build its nest in there and that would be frightfully amusing.”
Kevin closed his mouth with a snap and sat up, pulling his bathrobe straight. What time was it? What day? He had asked Albert to call Aunt B first thing. Had he found the Blue Room only last night? Leaping lizards!
“Aunt B! Did you fly here?”
“All the better to see you, my dear.” She tittered at her joke, patting an imaginary stray hair back into its rightful position. Aunt Beatrice was very proper and formal at all times, and always impeccably turned out. She reminded Kevin of a wren, for she had a tiresome habit of pecking at fluff wherever she could find it–as she did now, plucking a thread off his bathrobe. “Faithful Albert delivered your message this morning. He has been a Jenkins family servant all his life, did you know? And his dear mother before him, who was my nurse when I was young.”
“Is that so?” He could not imagine Aunt B as a girl, for she was a contemporary of his grandmother’s–she was his great-aunt, strictly speaking, but insisted on just ‘Aunt’ rather than ‘Great-Aunt’. ‘We’d rather not give my age away, dear!’ she had once explained. Aunt B she had been ever since.
“I owe you an apology,” said Aunt B, who had not even removed her coat. “You caught me on my way to London–a dreadful business, that’s what it is. Perfectly horrid. Ivy, one of my oldest and dearest friends, has had a bad fall and is in hospital as we speak with a broken hip. At her age, too, she should not be climbing on chairs to reach into cupboards. It was fortunate that one of the neighbours heard the crash and came to investigate, for Victoria has lived all on her own since her Harry died of the pneumonia in sixty-four, and has nobody to look after her, the poor dear. I shall be her only friend and comforter.”
Kevin smiled at her martial attitude. She had served during the war, a most enthusiastic supporter of the cause. As it was, she had enough projects and good works on the boil at any one time to make one’s head spin.
“I must confess,” she continued, “that your note proved a trifle cryptic, even by your obtuse standards. I was quite unable to decipher it. Hence my flying visit, for which I must offer my most profuse apologies. You do understand?”
“I understand,” he said dutifully. “I must not delay you. I’m sure that this matter can wait upon your return.”
“James has the Jaguar purring outside this very moment,” she said, referring to her driver. Father had dismissed James soon after they took over the Jenkins estate, Kevin recalled; even then he had been a silver-haired grandfather figure. “He’s a real old devil sometimes–overly fond of breaking the speed limit, you know. He shall fly me to London as on a magic carpet.”
Kevin , who from his bedroom window had on occasion marvelled at the familiar green Jaguar’s velocity as it raced up the long driveway to Pitterdown Manor, gave a dry little chuckle.
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