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Authors: Lynda Waterhouse
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picked up.
There was a long pause.
‘Hi. I got your e-mail. Sounds like things are working out for you.’
‘It’s cool here,’ I fibbed.
‘We are thinking of coming down for this Netherby Festival that you mentioned. Rebecca’s brother, Justin, says he’ll drive us if we pay for the petrol.’ Her voice
brightened up. ‘Jackson says hello.’
‘Sounds like you and Jackson are getting on.’
‘He’s always talking about you, Jenna.’ There was a sulky tone in her voice. ‘He thinks you’re ace for the way you’ve dealt with things.’
‘That was a temporary deal. You promised.’
‘I know,’ Mia snapped back. Then she explained, ‘Mum has been a total pain. Most of my free time is “planned” with activities, tutors or dancing lessons. I have to
be in by half past eight. I’m only allowed to go to Rebecca’s house. As soon as Dad comes back from his trip to the States, I’ll sort things out.’
‘Please hurry, Mia. I don’t think I can handle it for much longer,’ I said in a pathetic voice. Not my style at all. That business with the vase had shaken me up.
‘I have to go, Mum’s due back soon. Give me the number of the phone box and I’ll call you at seven o’clock tomorrow. I want to hear more about that mystery boy.’
Mia ended the call.
As I was making my way to the treehouse it began to drizzle and I could feel the fine rain soaking through my hair and cardigan. I wished I’d thought to pick up my coat.
It was five to three and Aurora was waiting for me by her tree. She waved and smiled when she saw me. At least somebody was pleased to see me. We walked up to the back of Netherby Hall.
The architecture was plainer and tattier than the front of the hall. It was still impressive, though. The rain ran through an ornate lead pipe next to the well-worn back door. Aurora lifted a heavy
latch that led us into a tiled porch and then on into a small, warm kitchen.
‘Shitty weather, isn’t it,’ she said as she closed the door behind me.
‘Language, Aurora!’ came a tired voice from the kitchen.
‘But Mum, you said it. Just before I went to collect Jenna you said “shitty weather”.’
Aurora’s mum wiped her hands on a cloth and smiled at me. She was a small woman with long grey hair tied into plaits like Aurora’s. She was wearing a nylon overall. She looked more
like a lady of the school dinner variety than a lady of the manor.
‘Hi, Jenna. I’m Isobel. The quiche will be ready in five minutes. I hope you like field mushrooms,’ she said, a worried expression on her face.
‘I love them,’ I said brightly, despite the fact that I had no idea what a field mushroom was.
‘How is Sarah?’ she asked. ‘It’s so good of you to help out in the shop whilst Kai’s away. I hope he’ll be back soon. He is such a wonderful poet! Sensitive
souls always suffer in everyday life.’
I just nodded. Why did Kai take in women so easily? As far as I could make out, he was about as sensitive as a bucket of mud.
Aurora tugged at my damp sleeve. ‘Come on, Jenna, I’ll show you around.’
We walked back into the gallery. I remembered the last time I’d been there with Gabe. Where was he now? Had he remembered that I was coming?
Aurora threaded her arm through mine and said, ‘In the olden days people used to walk up and down this gallery for exercise. Especially when it was too cold or muddy outside.’
I stopped briefly at the picture of Septimus Netherby. ‘They could walk past all their dead relatives and nod and say hello.’
Aurora giggled. ‘They could stick their tongues out or give them a wink.’
‘Or see where they got their cruel eyes or big nose,’ I added as we walked along. I stopped again next to the large Chinese vase filled with Gabe’s white roses and looked at a
picture I hadn’t noticed the last time.
It was a tiny portrait tucked away behind the vase. It was a portrait of a beautiful chestnut horse and resting her head against it and
There was a long pause.
‘Hi. I got your e-mail. Sounds like things are working out for you.’
‘It’s cool here,’ I fibbed.
‘We are thinking of coming down for this Netherby Festival that you mentioned. Rebecca’s brother, Justin, says he’ll drive us if we pay for the petrol.’ Her voice
brightened up. ‘Jackson says hello.’
‘Sounds like you and Jackson are getting on.’
‘He’s always talking about you, Jenna.’ There was a sulky tone in her voice. ‘He thinks you’re ace for the way you’ve dealt with things.’
‘That was a temporary deal. You promised.’
‘I know,’ Mia snapped back. Then she explained, ‘Mum has been a total pain. Most of my free time is “planned” with activities, tutors or dancing lessons. I have to
be in by half past eight. I’m only allowed to go to Rebecca’s house. As soon as Dad comes back from his trip to the States, I’ll sort things out.’
‘Please hurry, Mia. I don’t think I can handle it for much longer,’ I said in a pathetic voice. Not my style at all. That business with the vase had shaken me up.
‘I have to go, Mum’s due back soon. Give me the number of the phone box and I’ll call you at seven o’clock tomorrow. I want to hear more about that mystery boy.’
Mia ended the call.
As I was making my way to the treehouse it began to drizzle and I could feel the fine rain soaking through my hair and cardigan. I wished I’d thought to pick up my coat.
It was five to three and Aurora was waiting for me by her tree. She waved and smiled when she saw me. At least somebody was pleased to see me. We walked up to the back of Netherby Hall.
The architecture was plainer and tattier than the front of the hall. It was still impressive, though. The rain ran through an ornate lead pipe next to the well-worn back door. Aurora lifted a heavy
latch that led us into a tiled porch and then on into a small, warm kitchen.
‘Shitty weather, isn’t it,’ she said as she closed the door behind me.
‘Language, Aurora!’ came a tired voice from the kitchen.
‘But Mum, you said it. Just before I went to collect Jenna you said “shitty weather”.’
Aurora’s mum wiped her hands on a cloth and smiled at me. She was a small woman with long grey hair tied into plaits like Aurora’s. She was wearing a nylon overall. She looked more
like a lady of the school dinner variety than a lady of the manor.
‘Hi, Jenna. I’m Isobel. The quiche will be ready in five minutes. I hope you like field mushrooms,’ she said, a worried expression on her face.
‘I love them,’ I said brightly, despite the fact that I had no idea what a field mushroom was.
‘How is Sarah?’ she asked. ‘It’s so good of you to help out in the shop whilst Kai’s away. I hope he’ll be back soon. He is such a wonderful poet! Sensitive
souls always suffer in everyday life.’
I just nodded. Why did Kai take in women so easily? As far as I could make out, he was about as sensitive as a bucket of mud.
Aurora tugged at my damp sleeve. ‘Come on, Jenna, I’ll show you around.’
We walked back into the gallery. I remembered the last time I’d been there with Gabe. Where was he now? Had he remembered that I was coming?
Aurora threaded her arm through mine and said, ‘In the olden days people used to walk up and down this gallery for exercise. Especially when it was too cold or muddy outside.’
I stopped briefly at the picture of Septimus Netherby. ‘They could walk past all their dead relatives and nod and say hello.’
Aurora giggled. ‘They could stick their tongues out or give them a wink.’
‘Or see where they got their cruel eyes or big nose,’ I added as we walked along. I stopped again next to the large Chinese vase filled with Gabe’s white roses and looked at a
picture I hadn’t noticed the last time.
It was a tiny portrait tucked away behind the vase. It was a portrait of a beautiful chestnut horse and resting her head against it and
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