Page 38 of A Good Heart is Hard to Find
‘Of course. He’smytype, not yours: tall, dark, clever, tricky, and younger than me. And although he asked me a lot about you, he seemed more interested in the Crypt-ograms and the mind reading and prediction stuff, and your knowledge of the local spooks, than anything more personal about you.’
‘I don’t suppose he told you why?’
‘Well, no, but I supposeit’s natural he should be interested.’
‘He’s going to let his sister run part of the Hall as a sort of guesthouse doing Ghastly Weekends for Ghost-hunters.’
‘But he can’t do that, the rat!I’mthe local B&B!’ Orla exclaimed indignantly. ‘And he can’t need the money: Miss Kedge was loaded.’
‘A man can never be too thin or too rich?’ I suggested.
‘Huh!’ she said inelegantly.
‘But it soundsmore like an occasional weekend thing rather than a regular business like yours, so it shouldn’t affect you, Orla. I don’t think he really wants to do it either, it’s more his sister talked him into it.’
‘You seem to know an awful lot after “just bumping into each other”,’ she said sarcastically.
‘I spent the night with him,’ I confessed.
‘What!’
‘In a non-carnal way,’ I assured her hastily,lying through my teeth. It wasalmosttrue, after all, and if I said it enough times even I might believe it.
I told her the Jack and the Enormous Door Key tale and about the abortive ghost hunt, but left out the brandy, the bed, and the black guilty heart bit. (Dante’s, not mine.) I needed another hands-on session with concentration before I passed judgement on that one, and now he knew I coulddo it he was unlikely to give me another chance even if our paths crossed, which I sincerely hoped they didn’t.
I wondered if I should try reading Jason’s mind, as a sort of guilt-comparison? And a couple of random men too, perhaps? Orla knew quite a few random men.
She listened avidly to my story, then asked me if I didn’t fancy Dante Chase.
‘No, you get him, you can have him,’ I said generously.‘He’s not my type, as you said.’
‘Actually, heisyour type in that you both look a bit the same.’
‘You know, that wasmyfirst impression too – apart from the nose,’ I added hastily. ‘And the thin lips, and the square chin, and – no, forget it, we’re not alike at all.’
‘You both have lovely bones, deep-set eyes, hollow cheeks and straight dark eyebrows,’ Orla pointed out. ‘You’re beautiful,he’s sexy.’
‘I’mnotbeautiful, and he’s not sexy,’ I said stubbornly.
‘Oh, come on! And he’s got one of those lovely, gravelly, slightly gin-and-cigarettes voices, while yours is melodious but mournful even when you tell jokes.’
‘Thanks.’
‘It’s all right: part of your charm is that you’re not like everyone else.’
‘It certainly never charmed my parents.’
‘No, but it isn’t your fault youtake after some tall, dark, wicked forebear while all your brothers are medium-sized blue-eyed blonds, is it?’
‘You’d think so,’ I said. ‘My sister, Jane’s, a little Goldilockstoo, so it’s just me with the unhealthy white pallor and dried ox-blood hair.’
‘Darkest auburn.’
‘Whatever. Anyway, you’re the beautiful one. Mike must have been out of his mind to leave you.’
‘For a younger versionof me? You know, I’ve just had one of my brilliant ideas!’ she added.
My heart sank.
