put down her bag, frowning as she tried to take it all in. “But why did he build it here?”
“She lived nearby. Her family had a property, a big property. Her father was very rich. She met Mr. Visconti when she was on the Grand Tour, traveling all over Europe, becoming a lady.”
“So why didn’t she marry him?”
“I don’t know. Miss McInnes didn’t say.”
“
Wouldn’t
say?”
“No, Grandma thinks she doesn’t know. Remember, she was only a little girl when she heard all this. Miss McInnes was related to the family, very distantly; that’s how she knew about it. But there was some sort of scandal and it was all hushed up. Maybe it was because the family didn’t approve of Mr. Visconti. Because he was Italian. Or because he was different.”
“Because he built houses with gardens painted on the walls.”
“Maybe.”
Laura was silent for a moment, then said, “People are so stupid.”
“Only some.” Leon took another bite of his apple. “Come on. Let’s get going.”
Laura bent to pick up her bag, but Leon seized it from her. “Here, I’ll carry that,” he said, and swung it over his shoulder as though it weighed nothing. Laura stared after him in surprise. She had read about boys carrying girls’ school books in some of her mother’s old novels, but she hadn’t imagined that they really did it. Not that this was like in the stories, shereminded herself — he was just carrying it because it was heavy — but it was nice all the same. She hurried to catch up with him.
Laura’s mother was making coffee when they came into the kitchen. She smiled at Leon and asked how their research was going.
“Fine,” said Laura. “We’re going to look for a cellar.”
“A cellar! Why?”
“One of the articles said there was a cellar.”
Laura’s mother shook her head. “You can’t believe everything you read, you know. I haven’t seen any evidence of a cellar, honey bear.”
“Well, we’re going to see for ourselves.” Laura opened the fridge and then closed it again when she saw they were all out of juice. She didn’t think Leon was the sort of person who would mind about things like that, though. “Would you like some water?” she asked, but he shook his head.
“There’s some fresh bread,” suggested her mother. “Your father came back with a loaf when he went to get the paper. And there’s that delicious honey Harry brought. Why don’t you have some of that?”
The bread was so fresh, it was hard to cut. They ended up with huge wedges on which they slatheredbutter and the sweet golden honey. It dribbled over the sides and stuck to their fingers and tasted incredible. Watching Leon as he licked the side of his hand where the honey was trickling down, Laura tried to imagine eating bread and honey with Kylie or Maddy. It was impossible to do.
“Where should we start?” she asked when they couldn’t eat any more.
“Are there any new floorboards?”
Laura thought hard. “I don’t think so.”
“Let’s look anyway. We’ll start here.”
The kitchen was tiled. The tiles were old and worn and looked very firmly set in place. Nevertheless, Leon insisted that they shift every bit of movable furniture to look under it. They found nothing.
Then they tried the two bedrooms, crawling over the floorboards to check every join. At one point, after he had been peering under her parents’ bed, Leon lifted his head, and he was covered in cobwebs and dust. Laura burst out laughing, and Leon, looking puzzled, reached up and felt the sticky threads caught in his hair.
“Look in the mirror.” Laura giggled. “You look like Samson when we found him in the attic.”
Leon started laughing too, and the more theylaughed, the more they could not stop. Laura clutched her stomach and gasped for air. When they finally managed to catch their breath, she realized she hadn’t laughed like that in a very, very long time. She thought of the last night with Harry and Isabella when she
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
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Brenda Sinclair
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