Amanda Cadabra and The Strange Case of Lucy Penlowr by Holly Bell (i like reading .TXT) 📗

... I ’ave to think back ... inhalin’ smoke, I think it were.’

‘Do you think it was that, Pasco?’

The man snorted derisively.

‘’Course not. She fell in battle.’

Thomas waited to see if anything else might be forthcoming. Finally,

‘Is there any more you can tell me?’

‘Long time ago. I din’t think in on it until the Arlodh asked me,’ he said with a nod towards Kyt. ‘That’s all I remember, young master.’

‘Thank you very much indeed, Pasco. You’ve helped a great deal. And I assure you what you’ve told me will not be included in any official records.’

‘Hm.’

Kyt spoke. ‘Thank you, Pasco. It all helps to put the past behind us.’

‘Hm. Well, you ‘ave the future to think of, Master.’

‘We have the future to think of, Pasco,’ Kyt insisted. ‘Whatever happens, this remains your home. You are a Flamgoyne of Flamgoyne. The last of that name that I know of. This estate is where you stay for as long as you wish.’

Pasco seemed mollified by this speech.

‘Hm. Well, thank you for that Master Kyt. But what’s to be done about the upkeep? That’s still the question. The land’s untended, and only so much I can do to maintain this house.’

‘There’s enough money for now at least. Just keep the parts of the house going that you need for yourself. We’ll work it out.’

As they came down the front steps, the Trelawneys observed a man with a camera standing on the other side of the gates. On closer proximity, he was seen to be of medium height, fit and attractive with dark brown hair. He was dressed in a leather jacket over a white rollneck and black jeans.

‘Can we help you?’ asked Kyt, with his usual friendly manner.

The visitor’s merry eyes sparkled as he greeted the Trelawney men.

‘Hello. Please. I noticed your so beautiful castle,’ he said in a Russian accent. ‘My wife and children will love to see this. Is it ok for me to take a photo?’

‘Yes, of course,’ Kyt replied amiably.

Thomas turned to his father. ‘Can we open the g—?’ Unnervingly, the gates parted. ‘Right. That should give you a clear shot,’ he said to the photographer. ‘I’m Thomas, by the way.’

‘I am Ilia.’

‘Kyt.’

‘Is this your castle?’ enquired Ilia.

‘Yes, it’s, er ... yes,’ replied Kyt.

Thomas asked if Ilia were on holiday.

‘On business, just taking a little look at your lovely, er ... “duchy” I must say, yes?’ Ilia checked with a twinkle.

Kyt chuckled ‘That term should keep at least some people happy.’

‘Are you here long, Ilia?’

‘I fly home today.’

‘Well,’ said Kyt, ‘I hope you’ve enjoyed your visit to Cornwall and will come again.’

‘Oh yes. Ok. You like to see?’

He showed them the shots, clear and sharp. Thomas and Kyt had to admit, framed as he had photographed them, Flamgoyne looked rather romantic. Appealing even. They praised Ilia’s results.

‘Are you a professional?’ asked Thomas curiously.

‘No, just hobby. So, I go now. Thank you, er, Kyt and Thomas.’

‘You’re welcome, Ilia,’ Kyt responded.

‘Safe journey home,’ called his son.

Thomas dropped Kyt back to his own car then drove straight to Hogarth’s.

Chapter 37

Looking for Answers

Mike was up a ladder again, this time painting the upstairs hall and ceiling at the top of the stairs. The furniture in the sitting-room was now standing away from the walls, and there was the smell of oil-based matt.

‘No Amanda?’ he asked, finishing his current patch, then descending.

‘She’s still out with Gran. Painting the town, or something, red, I shouldn't wonder.’

Hogarth led the way downstairs to the kitchen and put his brushes in a jar of white spirit. He stripped off his vinyl gloves and switched on the kettle.

‘Make up the fire so we can have tea in comfort,’ he bade Thomas cheerily.

Finally, he came in with the tea-tray, having removed his overalls, and joined Thomas by the fire. Trelawney reported what Pasco had said.

‘Good,’ replied Hogarth jauntily. ‘Let’s dissect it all this evening with Amanda, shall we?’

‘Certainly.’

‘Looking forward to starting work in Sunken Madley soon?’

‘I am,’ Thomas confirmed.

‘This is good practice.’

‘Hm, a sort of pre-partnership effort.’

‘Have you, er ... told her yet? About that thing you can do. The extent of your intuitive abilities?’

Thomas felt himself flushing a trifle as he replied,

‘Do I really need to ... I mean, at the moment?’

‘Your call,’ Mike replied in relaxed tones. ‘It would certainly help your working relationship if you could learn to open up to one another a little more,’ he encouraged.

‘Of course,’ Thomas replied vaguely.

‘How about the fact that the Flamgoynes and Cardiubarns intended the two of you for one another before she was born, and they decided they’d produced a lemon?' asked Mike, in a by-the-way fashion.

‘No ... I haven’t mentioned it. It hasn’t come up. And there hasn’t been the right ... moment.’

‘Well, perhaps you’re still right about that one, and it is perhaps not the fortuitous time. However, leave it too long, and it could come up at an inconvenient point,’ ended Hogarth on a gently cautionary if enigmatic note.

Thomas looked at him uncertainly. Mike steered the subject onto a side-line.

‘But the Trelawneys have taken your new partner to their hearts, have they?’

‘Definitely,’ Thomas replied with a smile, glad to have an easy question to answer.

‘Not surprising though, is it?’ asked Hogarth casually.

‘Not really. For all Miss Cadabra's antisocial tendencies, inability to read people, frequently missing the obvious, peculiar detachment and that terrifying creature she hangs out with, she can be rather sweet. Of course,’ Thomas interrupted himself hastily, ‘at other times, she can be .... When I first met her, I didn’t think she was sweet at all!’

‘Are you sure?’

‘What? Oh, I see what you mean. Well, then