Read Online The Strange Fate of Kitty Easton by Elizabeth Speller, Georgina Capel - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Elizabeth Speller, Georgina Capel
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enthusiastic. ‘Back in Crete, Sir Arthur is possessed of a magnificent certainty and has rebuilt the palaces of the Minoans so that they’d feel quite at home if they returned tomorrow. I don’t have his great gift of faith. I like the standing and silently sensing the invisible. You too, I imagine?’
Laurence was surprised by Patrick’s frankness and perception. He was about to reply when he heard voices.
‘Ah, my hosts,’ Patrick said, ‘my family. No rest for me then.’ Turning to Laurence, as the voices drew closer, he added ‘Later perhaps,’ just as Lydia called out from the corridor, ‘Hello. Patrick? Is that you?’
She came in just a little ahead of Frances looking unwell but as animated as Laurence had ever seen her, taking Patrick’s hand in both of hers. From behind her, Frances, who had looked watchful at first, stepped forward.
‘Patrick,’ she said, giving him a hug. ‘How awful of us. I had no idea you were here until I saw that strange old car outside and realised it must be yours.’
‘Your telegram said you’d be later...’ Lydia said.
Patrick grinned. ‘The car. Dreadful old thing. Somehow suitable for an archaeologist, but I rather wondered whether I was going to make it at all. I set out early, simply so that I stood a chance of getting here in daylight.’
His glance lingered on his sister-in-law and Laurence fancied he could see concern in Patrick’s eyes but he swiftly turned to Frances, regarding her too with real warmth.
‘You look so well, Frances.’
He turned back to Lydia, who was holding on to the back of a chair. She blinked a couple of times, almost as if she were trying to focus.
‘Sit down,’ Frances said gently, taking her arm again. Lydia’s skin was greyish and she closed her eyes briefly, but once sitting by the fire she brightened again quickly.
‘So where’s my big brother?’ Patrick said. ‘Out beating the bounds in true squirearchical fashion?’
Lydia smiled. Frances stood behind her chair, gazing down at Lydia with her hand resting on her half-sister’s shoulder.
‘He must be with David and William,’ she said, looking up.
‘Ah, yes. Turning old Easton into a model estate. Before scouring the mop fairs for tenants.’
Frances’s eyes narrowed but Patrick appeared not to notice. ‘It’s really very good to be here again, Lydia.’
‘You should come more often,’ she replied but without any tone of reproach. Then, turning to Laurence, ‘We haven’t seen Patrick for five years. I fear he has weathered those years better than we have.’
‘Nonsense, you look well!’
‘It’s not nonsense, despite everybody’s care, but you were always gallant,’ Lydia said.
Laurence was struck by the long interval of time. Five years’ absence?
Maggie came into the room carrying the tea things. The girl looked flustered, her eyes opening wide when she saw Patrick, who stepped forward to take the tray from her. Putting it down, he shook her hand. ‘Well, I think I can certainly say that you’ve grown. How old are you now?’
Maggie’s cheeks were blotched with embarrassment or pleasure. ‘Fifteen,’ she said. ‘I’ll be sixteen come July. I’m sorry I wasn’t here, I was seeing to my grandad and I didn’t know we’d have people for tea,’ she said, all in a rush. Then she added, ‘Mrs Hill is teaching me to cook. I did half the cake.’
‘I’m glad. I’ll have to come back more often when you’re in charge of the kitchen.’
Maggie’s expression was uncertain. She stared down abruptly at the cup still in his hand, then around the room like an animal seeking cover, her eyes seeming to fix on the tray Laurence had brought in earlier. Suddenly she seized Laurence’s teacup from the table beside him and snatched Patrick’s from his hand, putting them next to their ancient teapot, and picked up the tray. For a second Laurence was startled. Muttering ‘servants’ crockery,’ she half bobbed, something he’d never
Laurence was surprised by Patrick’s frankness and perception. He was about to reply when he heard voices.
‘Ah, my hosts,’ Patrick said, ‘my family. No rest for me then.’ Turning to Laurence, as the voices drew closer, he added ‘Later perhaps,’ just as Lydia called out from the corridor, ‘Hello. Patrick? Is that you?’
She came in just a little ahead of Frances looking unwell but as animated as Laurence had ever seen her, taking Patrick’s hand in both of hers. From behind her, Frances, who had looked watchful at first, stepped forward.
‘Patrick,’ she said, giving him a hug. ‘How awful of us. I had no idea you were here until I saw that strange old car outside and realised it must be yours.’
‘Your telegram said you’d be later...’ Lydia said.
Patrick grinned. ‘The car. Dreadful old thing. Somehow suitable for an archaeologist, but I rather wondered whether I was going to make it at all. I set out early, simply so that I stood a chance of getting here in daylight.’
His glance lingered on his sister-in-law and Laurence fancied he could see concern in Patrick’s eyes but he swiftly turned to Frances, regarding her too with real warmth.
‘You look so well, Frances.’
He turned back to Lydia, who was holding on to the back of a chair. She blinked a couple of times, almost as if she were trying to focus.
‘Sit down,’ Frances said gently, taking her arm again. Lydia’s skin was greyish and she closed her eyes briefly, but once sitting by the fire she brightened again quickly.
‘So where’s my big brother?’ Patrick said. ‘Out beating the bounds in true squirearchical fashion?’
Lydia smiled. Frances stood behind her chair, gazing down at Lydia with her hand resting on her half-sister’s shoulder.
‘He must be with David and William,’ she said, looking up.
‘Ah, yes. Turning old Easton into a model estate. Before scouring the mop fairs for tenants.’
Frances’s eyes narrowed but Patrick appeared not to notice. ‘It’s really very good to be here again, Lydia.’
‘You should come more often,’ she replied but without any tone of reproach. Then, turning to Laurence, ‘We haven’t seen Patrick for five years. I fear he has weathered those years better than we have.’
‘Nonsense, you look well!’
‘It’s not nonsense, despite everybody’s care, but you were always gallant,’ Lydia said.
Laurence was struck by the long interval of time. Five years’ absence?
Maggie came into the room carrying the tea things. The girl looked flustered, her eyes opening wide when she saw Patrick, who stepped forward to take the tray from her. Putting it down, he shook her hand. ‘Well, I think I can certainly say that you’ve grown. How old are you now?’
Maggie’s cheeks were blotched with embarrassment or pleasure. ‘Fifteen,’ she said. ‘I’ll be sixteen come July. I’m sorry I wasn’t here, I was seeing to my grandad and I didn’t know we’d have people for tea,’ she said, all in a rush. Then she added, ‘Mrs Hill is teaching me to cook. I did half the cake.’
‘I’m glad. I’ll have to come back more often when you’re in charge of the kitchen.’
Maggie’s expression was uncertain. She stared down abruptly at the cup still in his hand, then around the room like an animal seeking cover, her eyes seeming to fix on the tray Laurence had brought in earlier. Suddenly she seized Laurence’s teacup from the table beside him and snatched Patrick’s from his hand, putting them next to their ancient teapot, and picked up the tray. For a second Laurence was startled. Muttering ‘servants’ crockery,’ she half bobbed, something he’d never
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