Page 151 of Storm of Bells
And amazingly, she did. Without prodding mefor any reasons. Leaning the ladder against the wall, I started toclimb. Soon, I was clambering up the incline of the roof, over thebristly straw, covered here and there by moss, until I finallyreached the very top.
‘Need a hand?’ I asked the boy putting downbundles of straw beside me. He stared as if the Queen of Englandhad offered to polish his boots. ‘Um…well, yes, thank you, MyLady.’
‘So, what would you like me to do?’
‘Err…could you perhaps, um…clip the straw?’Looking as if he might be about to be thrown in the dungeon forsuch a sacrilegious suggestion, he shyly held out a pair of shearsto me. I took it with a grin. ‘I’d be delighted to help you…?’
‘Tom, My Lady! I’m Tom.’
‘A pleasure to meet you, Tom. Now, at whichend of the roof would you like me to start?’
Tom gave me my orders, and I got to workcutting and clipping. It was wonderfully fun work for a relativelymonotonous activity—partly perhaps because young Tom soon became alot less shy, and we chatted amiably along, and partly because thewhole time I was clipping straw, I was imagining it to be Karim’sbeard. A little fantasy can do wonders for your work ethic.
‘Something to drink, My Lady?’
‘Thanks, Tom.’
Accepting the proffered water flask, I took adeep gulp and settled down on top of the roof. Stretching my arms,I drew in a deep breath of country air and gazed out acrosslandscape. As I sat there, taking in the sight of the fieldsshining golden with wheat in every direction, here and there dottedwith lush green, and the manor on top of a slight rise, overlookingall, warmth flooded my heart. I knew I was just standing on top ofa freshly-renovated house, but it felt as if I were standing on topof the world. Affectionately, I patted the thatched roof.
Well, well, Mr Ambrose. Looks like I’mbecoming a ‘house’-wife after all. Just not in the way youimagined.
‘Someone down there,’ I called down from theroof, ‘hand me string, will you? It’s time we start shoring thisthing up!’
A hand reached up, holding out a piece ofstring. Snatching it up I turned towards my work. ‘Thanks!’
‘You are welcome, Miss Linton.’
I froze.
Only then did I realize how very, very quietit had gotten on the roof. To be honest, it had gotten rather quietall around. One might even say icily silent.
NewProtection
Silence reigned. Wherebefore the air had been filled with the chatter of villagers andthe rattle of tools, now there was only one thing: silence. Besideme, Tom sat, mouth agape, staring down the roof at something—orsomeone.
‘You. Boy,’ a voice came from behind me.‘Leave.’
Tom moved faster than a speeding bullet. Andif you think that’s hyperbole, think again. During the last fewyears, I’d had more encounters with speeding bullets than I caredto count, and I was very familiar with their variousattributes.
I, for my part, was in no hurry. Leisurelysliding the string I was holding between the straw, I tied therequired knot, drew it tight, and only then slowly rose and turnedto face him.
‘Hello, Mr Ambrose.’
He stood at the gable of the roof, gazingdown upon me like the admiral standing at the prow of a ship. Anadmiral rather dissatisfied with his underling. His eyes,glittering icily, were narrowed infinitesimally.
‘What are you doing?’ he demanded.
‘Good works,’ I informed him cheerfully,reaching for the shears again and resuming my work. ‘In case youdon’t know what that is, look it up in the dictionary under “G”.’ Ifrowned. ‘Or maybe under “W”. I’m not altogether sure.’
‘Miss Linton…! I…I…’
‘…would never waste money on adictionary?’
I hadn’t thought anyone could move as fast ashe did on top of a steeply sloping roof. In an instant, he wasstanding before me. Strong, long fingers closed around my wristsand hauled me up against him.
‘I cannot believe you you’d risk yourselflike this!’
‘Like what?’ I asked, although of course Iknew perfectly well.
