Page 122 of The House of Hopes and Dreams
Written in the Dust
Later, after we’d eaten a meal neither of us had much appetite for any more, we discussed the rather gruesome idea that Phillip Revell’s skeleton was most probably still mouldering in the secret cellar below the tower.
Then Carey suddenly exclaimed, ‘Just wait a minute! I’ve thought of something and I need to check it.’
Baffled, I followed him into the studio, where he turned the confession over and silently read the second side through again.
‘I thought as much,’ he said finally, looking up with a gleam of excitement in his eyes. ‘Lady Anne said he’d taken the bag of jewels and was holding them while he was talking to her – but then there’s no further mention of them. So, if Phillip Revell is still down there, the jewels presumably are, too. There’s been no family record of them since.’
I stared at him in astonishment. ‘You know, you’re quite right! But is it possible that no one has discovered the secret stair in all these years?’
‘If they had, I expect they would have passed the secret on within the family, like the priest-hole in the muniment room.’
‘And since they haven’t … he and the jewelscouldbe still there.’
We gazed speculatively at each other.
‘There’s only one way to find out, Angel, but not tonight. I think we’d better go to bed. Come on,’ he said, pulling me to my feet.
‘Oh, Mr Revell, this is so sudden!’ I said and he stilled, looking down at me and frowning.
‘You know, that’s exactly what I’ve tried my bestnotto be,’ he said. ‘Ididn’t want to rush you so soon after you’d lost Julian – but my feelings towards you have changed so much, it was impossible to stop myself kissing you earlier. I’m so sorry.’
I looked up at him, surprised. ‘But I’d already told you that I really lost the Julian I was in love with long before he actually died and had come to terms with that. It doesn’t mean I didn’t love him and I often miss him now, but I’ve already moved on. And,’ I added boldly, ‘if you remember, I kissed you back!’
‘So you did!’ he agreed, his wonderfully blinding smile lighting up his handsome face, and then kissed me all over again.
‘I’d like to sweep you up and carry you upstairs,’ he said, finally releasing me. ‘But I’m not sure I’m quite fit enough yet. I might have to work up to it over several nights, one or two steps at a time.’
‘The lift is working again – you can sweep me upstairs in that,’ I suggested demurely. ‘And after the hell of a day I’ve had, there’s no way I’m sleeping on my own tonight, especially after reading that horrible confession and knowing there’s probably a body in the cellar.’
‘It’ll only be bare bones by now: the family skeleton you thought we might find.’
‘I didn’t mean literally, though,’ I said.
‘Well, never mind, I’ll just be your comfort blanket tonight,’ he promised … but then, he always was.
Next morning I woke up in a strange room with a familiar man. I hadn’t spent the night in the same bed as Carey since we were about seven, which wasn’t at all the same thing …
My best friend … and now somehow about to be permanently transformed into my lover. It seemed strangely right, as though we’d met at the heart of a maze after several wrong turnings.
I slid out, trying not to wake him, which was difficult since there was more of Carey draped over me than duvet.
He opened one drowsy, violet-blue eye. ‘It’s early – come back?’ he suggested.
‘Today we’re treasure hunting, remember?’ I reminded him and he snapped awake.
‘You know, for a minute there, I’d forgotten. Something must have put it out of my mind …’
I threw the cushion from the chair at him on my way out to shower and dress: I’ve always had good aim.
We seemed to have simply slid seamlessly from one close relationship into another – or perhaps we’d just added an extra layer, for apart from a tendency to smile at each other a lot, on the surface nothing much appeared to have changed.
Carey was determined to eat breakfast before we did anything else, while I was almost too excited – or maybe that should be too nervous – to manage anything more than one slice of toast.
Luckily my headache had gone, though the bruise on my forehead was an interesting violet blue, spreading into the eye socket. I didn’t think it’d develop into a complete shiner, just look as if I was wearing weird eye shadow on one side.
I gave my crusts to Fang, informing him if he ate them he’d get curly hair, just like my granny used to tell me, then we began equipping ourselves with torches and one of those battery-powered storm lanterns.
