Page 88 of A Good Heart is Hard to Find
‘Keep them for me. That’s when I want you.’
‘But I—’
‘I understand the arrangement is the whole day?’
‘Well yes, but—’
‘It just says “whole day” on the sheet. That’s midnight to midnight in my book – or in this case, midnight Friday to midnight Sunday. You’d better come up to the Hall on the Friday evening and stay.’
‘You can’tpossiblyexpect—’
‘In the lonely west wing with me – andVladimir,’ he said meaningfully. ‘Remember him? Rosetta’sfilled the guest rooms, so you have no choice.’
Oh-oh! Now I thought about it he did have the hollow, dark-circled eyes of a man who’d spent the whole night poring over a pallid manuscript.
‘Now look here, Dante!’ I began angrily, beginning to think he was going to spend a fun weekend paying me back for endowing his ancestors with bloodsucking propensities (among other things), but was interruptedby the local reporter.
She congratulated Dante on his generosity, and he made full use of the opportunity to talk about the Ghastly Weekends, and said how he hoped I would help him and his sister on their opening weekend, and also looked forward to receiving some handy hints, author to author, on the book he was writing.
I smiled weakly and said I hoped he would think I was worth it, and hesaid satisfaction was guaranteed, which made him a clear winner in that round.
It was abundantly evident that the reporter thought he was a clear winner inanyround, so I gave up sparring with him – for now.
He’d made my bed and I was just going to have to lie on it with as good a grace as possible, even if it was in the remote west wing of the most haunted house in Britain, with the most hauntedman.
Our photos were taken, though my expression might have been a trifle frozen, since Dante whispered the words: ‘Nice outfit, by the way!’ into my ear at the crucial moment, his long hair brushing my face.
Immediately after that he left, though there wasn’t a lot of bounce left in me by then.
Jason had turned on his heel and gone when he bowed out of the bidding, but Rosetta and Eddie hadreappeared and were staring at me, hand in hand. Then Eddie beamed, and I beamed back automatically as one does, and then Rosetta beamed, and it only needed someone to whip out a guitar and start playing ‘Oh Happy Day!’ to put the finishing touch to a glorious occasion.
Maybe my face was reflecting some of this, for Orla said: ‘Hey, you don’t have to do this alone, you know! If you fancy aménageà trois, Clara and I are both up for it,’ and they giggled.
You know, I think the pair of them deserve to be sold down the river.
