Page 135 of Ruby Red (The Ruby Red Trilogy 1)

“Er, well, things are pretty quiet in Transylvania in our time,” I said cautiously. To be honest, I didn’t even know where the place was. But I’m sure these Kuruc people really did live there.

“Who rules Transylvania in the twenty-first century?” Rakoczy went on. He looked very much on the alert, as if he might leap up from his chair at any moment if my answer was unsatisfactory.

Hm, yes. Who did rule Transylvania? That was a really good question. Did it belong to Bulgaria? Or Romania? Or Hungary?

“I don’t know,” I said truthfully. “It’s so far away. I’ll have to ask Mrs. Counter—she’s our geography teacher.”

Rakoczy looked disappointed. Maybe I’d have done better to tell a few lies. Transylvania has been ruled by Prince Dracula for the last two hundred years. It’s a nature reserve for bat species that would otherwise have died out. The Kurucs are the happiest people in Europe. He’d probably have liked that better.

“And how are our colonies doing in the twenty-first century?” asked Lord Brompton.

To my relief, I saw that Rakoczy was leaning back again. And he didn’t crumble to dust when the sun broke through the clouds and bathed the room in bright, clear light.

For a while we talked in an almost relaxed way about America and Jamaica and some islands that I have to admit I’d never heard of. Lord Brompton seemed very upset to think that all these places now ruled themselves. (Well, I assumed they did. I wasn’t absolutely certain.) Of course he didn’t believe a word I said. Rakoczy took no more part in the conversation. He just looked alternately at his long, clawlike fingernails and the wallpaper, throwing an occasional glance my way.

“How sad to think that you are only an actress,” sighed Lord Brompton. “Such a pity. I would like so much to believe you.”

“Well, in your place I don’t suppose I’d believe me either,” I said understandingly. “I’m afraid I don’t have any proof … oh, wait a minute!” I reached down into my décolletage and brought out my mobile.

“What do you have there? A cigar case?”

“No!” I opened the mobile, and it beeped because it couldn’t find a network. Of course not. “This is … oh, never mind. I can take pictures with it.”

“You mean paint them?”

I shook my head and held the mobile up so that Lord Brompton and Rakoczy appeared on the display. “Smile, please. There, that’s it.” There hadn’t been any flash because the sunlight was so bright, which was a pity. A flash would surely have impressed the pair of them.

“What was that?” Lord Brompton had hauled his massive body out of his chair surprisingly fast, and he came over to me. I showed him the picture on the display. I’d caught him and Rakoczy very well.

“But—what is it? How is that possible?”

“It’s what we call photography,” I said.

Lord Brompton’s fat fingers caressed the mobile. “Wonderful!” he said enthusiastically. “Rakoczy, you must see this!”

“No, thank you,” said Rakoczy wearily.

“How you do it I don’t know, but that’s the best trick I’ve ever seen. Oh, what’s happened now?”

Lesley was on the display. His lordship had pressed one of the keys.

“That’s my friend Lesley,” I said, wishing I could see her in real life. “I took the picture last week. Look, there behind her is Marylebone High Street—her sandwich came from Prêt à Manger—and there’s the Aveda shop, see? It’s where my mum always buys her hair spray.” I suddenly felt terribly homesick. “And there’s part of a taxi. A kind of coach that drives along without any horses—”

“How much would you want for this box of tricks? I’ll pay you any price you ask, any!”

“Er, no, really, it’s not for sale. I still need it.” Shrugging regretfully, I closed my box of tricks—I mean, my mobile—and slipped it back into its hiding place inside my bodice.

Not a moment too soon, because the door opened and the count and Gideon came back, the count smiling with satisfaction, Gideon looking rather grave. Now Rakoczy too rose from his chair.

Gideon glanced at me intently. I looked defiantly back at him. Had he expected me to make off while he was out of the room? It would have served him right. After all, he was the one who’d drummed it into me that I must stick close to him at all times, only to abandon me himself at the first opportunity.

“So, how would you like to live in the twenty-first century, Lord Brompton?” asked the count.

“I should like it very much! What fantastic ideas you do have,” said his lordship, clapping his hands. “It was really most amusing.”

“I knew you’d enjoy it. But you might have offered the poor child a chair.”

“Oh, I most certainly did. But she preferred to stand.” His lordship leaned forward and spoke in confidential tones. “I would really like to buy that little silver shrine, my dear count.”

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