I sighed and turned away from the window. “Do you have parties here a lot?”
“Nah.” Nina was restless, and I sensed she wouldn’t be happy to stay up here for much longer. She, too, turned her back on the window. “My grandparents used to throw parties here all the time, but my parents only do it once every couple of years, when Dad thinks he needs to butter up his clients. He says it brings the work in.”
“Oh.” I chewed my lip. I wanted to ask more, but I didn’t know which grandparents she meant, and since her grandfather seemed to be a touchy subject, it struck me as best not to mention any of them.
“They sent out invites for this one ages ago,” Nina continued, “but I think Mum regretted it afterward.”
“She does seem a bit stressed.” I frowned. “Wait. Are we supposed to dress up for this?” I was thinking of Leonora’s intense gaze as she tweaked at the sleeves of the blue checked dress and straightened my plaits. Maybe she didn’t approve of the clothes I’d brought with me, or perhaps it was my wild hair she didn’t like—it was months since I’d last had a haircut or been bought anything new to wear. I glanced at Nina. Her T-shirt was an expensive brand, her shorts less faded than mine, but the differences weren’t that great, surely? I opened my mouth to ask her why her mum had wanted me to try on the blue dress, but again I hesitated.
“Nah, don’t worry about it,” Nina said. “We’re not invited—we’ll have to stay out of the way.” She picked up a book, then put it down. “God, I’m so bored, and there’s no time to swim again and get dry before dinner. Let’s go downstairs.”
We clattered down the spiral staircase and then down the next flight to the wood-paneled hall. From there, we could see into the kitchen, and through the open French doors to the workers on the lawn. Leonora and Markus were now sitting at one of the garden tables, pouring themselves drinks.
“I know,” Nina said. “I’ll show you my dad’s study. He’s got some amazing collections.”
She pushed open a door I hadn’t yet seen behind and took me into a large square room, screened from the bright sunlight outside by a slatted blind. A green-topped desk, as long as a bed, stood over by the window. It held a neat stack of paperwork, a pot of pencils, and one large spread-out diagram of a garden.
“Why doesn’t your mum work in here?” I asked, thinking of the cluttered laundry room that Leonora used.
Nina shrugged. “She’s never liked this room.”
“Are you sure we’re allowed in?”
“Of course.” But she spoke softly, and she pushed the door gently closed behind us.
The wall opposite the door was made up entirely of bookshelves, from floor to ceiling. But only half the shelves held books; the rest were stuffed with all sorts of treasures: enormous glossy shells and bulbous pieces of pottery; a stuffed bird on a branch, and a brightly painted globe; a wooden bowl on three legs and a log carved into the shape of a drum. Two of the other walls were lined with mismatched cupboards and cabinets, and these, too, boasted collections of objects. The room felt more like a museum than an office.
“Here,” Nina said, “I’ll show you . . .” She strolled in a loop around the room. “These are shells from the Philippines. And coral Dad collected when he was diving. These are pearls.”
“They’re amazing.”
“There’s a cello in there.” She patted a black instrument case leaning against one of the cabinets. “And these are fossils—that’s an ammonite, and a trilobite, I think. What do you like best?”
I was tempted to say the cello, but I forced my gaze to move on around the room.
“Those orange spiky shells,” I said. “They remind me of hedgehogs.”
Nina’s grin was delighted. “They’re my favorite too.” With great care, she picked one up. It filled her cupped palms, and she showed me how its top and bottom halves were hinged at the back.
I moved my head to examine it from different angles, keeping my hands clasped behind my back. “I love it.”
A sudden noise outside the door made us both jump—footsteps were passing, accompanied by the chinking of glasses.
Nina hurried to set the shell back down. “The caterers are here.” And just like that, the tour of the room was over. “Come on. Let’s see if there’re any goodies in the fridge. We can sample them to make sure they’re okay for the party tomorrow.”
Sadie
January 2019
Raven Hall’s entrance hall is warm and welcoming after the icy wind outside, and Sadie gazes in awe at the portraits and the huge bronze vases of hothouse flowers and the gorgeous foliage weaving up the banisters of the central staircase. She barely registers the chauffeur setting her suitcase down and leaving.
“What a beautiful house,” she says.
“Bloody hell.” Lady Nightingale lunges toward the floor, trying to catch the cards and papers she’s just dropped.
“Oops,” Sadie says. “Here, let me help.”
Together, they gather it all up. The cards are for the game, Sadie sees; they’re numbered, and they’re now in the wrong order. There are little envelopes, too, all with animal names on them, and sheets of paper similarly mixed up.
Lady Nightingale gives her a rueful smile. “I’m Nazleen,” she says, dropping the cut-glass accent. “You’re one of the other actors, aren’t you? I’m so glad I didn’t do that in front of a real guest. I’ve got so many things to remember; I can’t—” She glances around at the multiple doors leading off the hall. “Do you think there might be a desk or something, down here, where I can sort these out?”
A young man in black tie hovers by Sadie’s suitcase. “Shall I show you up to your room, miss?”
“Do you know if there’s a desk we can use somewhere . . . ?” Sadie asks him, but the young man merely looks anxious.
“We’re not allowed in the other rooms.”
“Right, okay.” Sadie indicates her suitcase. “Well, if you don’t mind taking my case up now, I’ll go up and find it in a minute.” She turns back to Nazleen. “Come on, I’ll give you a hand.”
The two doors that stand already open reveal beautifully furnished interiors—one a drawing room with bright flames crackling in a black marble fireplace, the other a grand dining room with silver cutlery and crystal glasses sparkling on a snow-white tablecloth. They ignore these rooms and work their way down the hall. The first door they try is locked; the next opens into a dimly lit cloakroom filled with racks of coats. Then Sadie finds a door with the key still in it, and she unlocks it.