‘S’okay.’ This time I nearly managed actual speech. Blaine was going to kill me.
‘He’s not usually so tongue-tied.’ Blaine placed a light hand on Lilith’s arm and led her to the table and away from my attempts to appear human. ‘You’ve made quite an impression on him.’
Lilith
By the time I sat down to dinner, I was so exhausted that I felt my appetite might be gone forever. Henry, used to dealing with flagging houseguests, had other ideas. He produced an exquisite meal, light enough to tempt the most fatigued palate: lobster ravioli; a summer salad grown in Albermarle Hall’s kitchen garden; tiny, bittersweet wild strawberries and thick primrose-yellow cream. Just an hour after I had thought I might fall asleep across the tablecloth, I cleared my plate and moved on to a second helping of everything. Finally, after I had eaten more in one sitting than I had managed all week, I pushed my spoon to one side. ‘That was amazing.’
Blaine smiled. ‘I feel it’s so important to make my guests feel at home as soon as possible. I trust Coyle gave you a warm welcome?’
I searched for the right words. ‘He was very… professional.’
‘He normally receives better reports than that, especially from our female guests. Was there a problem?’
‘No, no problem. It’s just – well, he knows it, doesn’t he? That whole ‘Celtic Charm’ thing’s a well-polished act, but it reminded me of one of those theme pubs on the Dublin tourist trail. Shelves full of pitchforks and wheelbarrows, and not a native in sight.’
‘Thank you for the feedback,’ Blaine said pleasantly. I noticed Finn’s eyes wander to a picture at the far end of the dining hall.
‘You’ve been to Dublin?’ he asked, just about managing to swallow a laugh.
‘About five years ago. Some cocky bastard restaurateur who’d decided his food was about to ‘capture the zeitgeist’. He blew half his budget on getting me to do a couple of pieces for the bar. You’re from there?’
‘Not quite.’ Finn took a drink before forming his reply. ‘A village about twenty miles out. Colcurren. Have you heard of it?’
‘No. No I haven’t. Must be small, huh?’
‘Tiny.’ Finn moved his gaze to the floor.
Finn
I desperately needed to change the topic, and for once Blaine obliged: at this stage I was not meant to be a subject to be dwelt upon.
‘Lilith, you look amazing tonight – no mean feat after the day you must have had. How on earth do you manage to keep that figure?’ Blaine began to turn on the charm for our latest arrival, playing her game.
‘Genetics,’ Lilith coolly replied. ‘Size six no matter what I do. That, and a run every morning. Minimum five miles.’
‘How very disciplined. So, where do you get that unusual colouring? I suppose everyone must comment on those eyes.’
‘The wolf’s eyes are my father’s, unfortunately. But the skin’s from my mother. She was a pied-noir.’
‘Oh. Like Camus.’ I had spoken before I even realised.
‘What was that, Finn?’ Blaine asked, as if distracted by an intruding child.
‘Um, Albert Camus. He was born in Algeria…’
She gave me a tight smile. ‘Well, aren’t you the clever one?’
Lilith rescued me. ‘Have you read much of his stuff?’
I nodded. ‘All of it. The Plague’s probably my favourite.’
‘La Peste. Cool. Original or translation?’
I had to look at her to check that she wasn’t taking the piss. ‘Translation only, I’m afraid. I speak English with a smattering of Gaelic. Mainly the swear words.’
Lilith rested her elbows on the table. ‘The Gilbert’s a fine translation – I find that you don’t lose anything.’
It was the longest conversation I’d had in months, and it was doomed as soon as my mouth opened.
‘So, what do you think of Lilith’s work, Finn?’ Blaine suddenly asked, knowing full bloody well what the answer would be.
‘I’m not familiar with it, I’m afraid,’ I replied, with as much dignity as I could muster.
‘You’ll have to forgive Finn,’ Blaine said. ‘He’s not a big art fan.’
Lilith smiled. ‘I’m not quite so conceited as to believe the whole world’s familiar with my catalogue. To be honest, it’s good to find someone who might be able to cast a fresh eye on it. No preconceptions.’
Blaine reached across the table and placed her hand over mine. ‘I’m sure he’d be all too glad to lend his opinion, wouldn’t you, darling?’ It wasn’t one of those questions that required an answer from me. ‘I can’t imagine that even the most wide-eyed art naïf could fail to be impressed at your talent.’
Lilith
That was the moment that I realised that I didn’t like her. I knew nothing else about the woman, but I did know this. It may have simply been the grubby link with my father, or maybe it was because of what I didn’t know. Someone making such an effort to be this unreadable was either a born enigmatic or had something particularly huge to hide, and I had yet to meet a born enigmatic.
As we discussed my work, I had to admit that Blaine Albermarle was the most effortlessly charming woman I had ever met. I could only admire the way she had welcomed me and was now doing her utmost to make me the most important person on the planet, but I had long ago learned to listen to even the merest whisper of unease.
‘You look ready for a refill.’ Blaine gestured at my empty glass. ‘I feel like such a bad hostess. Too much talk and not enough attention.’
Ego massage and endless wine: an easy way to lull the unwary into comfortable, dangerous complacency. I placed a hand over the top of the glass. ‘No, thank you. A mineral water would be good, though.’
‘Water? Oh, Lilith. You’ve just had what must have been the most exhausting day. Why not allow yourself to relax a little more?’
‘Because I have work in the morning. I get up early, I go for a run and I’m usually at work for half seven.’
‘In that case I’ll ensure your breakfast is served early. Henry, please could you fetch some water for Lilith?’
Finn
I pushed congealing ravioli around the plate with the back of my fork. I glanced at Lilith, who was now curled into her chair, balancing a two hundred year-old crystal glass on her fingertips and taking in her new surroundings. Nothing so far had fazed her, or if it had, it didn’t cause a ripple on her dispassionate, elfin face. Even Coyle O’fucking Halloran, Blaine’s opening move in her well-practiced charm offensive, had been summarily and accurately dispatched with a few dismissive words. I almost craved my earlier disappointment: hope was a far more dangerous place.
As Henry began to clear the table of the dessert bowls, Lilith turned to him and laid a hand on his arm. ‘That really was delicious – the best meal I’ve had in years.’
Guests never spoke to Henry – he was background, and acknowledging him might mean they were surprised by the presence of a butler; not the cool thing to do in the presence of aristocracy. He gave Lilith a look of such pathetic gratitude that I contemplated throwing my breadknife at his head.
‘Oh, it’s nothing at all, just a little something I threw together,’ he wittered. ‘And to be honest, with the wonderful kitchen Blaine’s given me here, it would be sinful not to use it to its full advantage.’
Unfortunately he was too far away for me to get away with calling him a toadying little shit without Blaine hearing me.
‘I suppose it must be a little easier than trying to keep the sand out of the generals’ dinner when you were out in Kuwait,’ Lilith casually remarked, and Henry’s jaw virtually dropped to the table.
‘Oh. My. God. That’s amazing! How on earth?...’
Lilith sighed and shook her head. ‘If I give my secrets away, I may never work in vaudeville again.’
‘Oh, please,’ Henry pleaded. ‘Just a hint?’
‘Okay, just this once.’ Lilith smiled at him, and from the ridiculous look of adoration he gave her I k
new she had a pet for life.
‘First, I look for a way in – something to start me on the right track. With you, it’s your gait – you’ve got that military ‘broom up your arse’ walk, even in civvies. That puts you in the forces, and then it’s a question of which one. It’s only a one in three guess to start with, but your most dominant accent’s Hampshire, which is Aldershot, so I went for Army. Anyone who cooks like this has done it for a living forever and that would make you quartermaster, and your age would suggest that your most recent active service would have been First Gulf.’
Blaine gave a soft round of applause. ‘Very impressive. It certainly puts paid to any rumour that your splendid assault on Johnny Buckle was a set-up.’
Lilith shrugged. ‘It’s nothing that’s not there for anyone to see. I just have the ability to look a little closer than most.’
‘So what about my Finn? What do you see in him that most of us would miss?’ Blaine asked, and I bit the inside of my mouth until I tasted the copper tang of blood.
Lilith
For a fleeting moment Finn’s face betrayed his dismay, then he gathered himself together and became the attentive charmer once more. It was the only sign I needed.
‘To be honest, some are harder to read than others. If I weren’t so tired, perhaps things would be clearer, but I’m afraid Finn is one of those people who can keep things better hidden than most. Perhaps another time?’
‘Of course. I’d hate to add to your exhaustion. Especially on your first day at the hall.’ Concern personified. To my left, Finn pinched the bridge of his nose as if he was fighting a sudden headache.
Once the table was cleared, Henry served us all with coffee that was espresso-strong. Despite the swift hit of caffeine I knew it would only keep me awake for another hour or so, and an image of that huge bed drifted back into my mind.
I was watching Finn tip a fifth spoonful of sugar into his cup when Blaine checked her watch. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I have a call I need to make. Business intruding on pleasure, I’m afraid. Lilith, if my companion’s found his tongue I’m sure he’ll take good care of you for ten minutes.’ She gave us a gracious smile and left the table, and I was alone with Finn.
He patted his inside pocket. ‘D’you want to grab a breath of fresh air?’
‘Sure. Anything to stop me falling face-first into my coffee. What time does she normally finish these events?’
Finn walked around the table to pull my chair away for me and as I stood he laid my shawl over my shoulders. ‘Depends on the occasion. We normally go with how the guest’s feeling, so if you need to crash…’
‘Soon.’ There was a question he needed answering first.
Finn
The lake sparkled with myriad points of light as it reflected the glowing street lamps from the village a universe away across the water. Lilith stood next to me on the patio, her embroidered shawl wrapped tightly around her. She looked like an exotic butterfly that had been blown off-course as she shivered in the chill of her first Albermarle evening.
‘Smoke?’ I offered her my pack. She shook her head.
‘I used to, when I was young and immortal, but my asthma put a stop to it – I tend to go blue and cough myself to death. Not what you’d call glamorous.’
‘D’you mind if…’
‘Go ahead.’
I cupped my cigarette in my palms to light it, and we stood for a while in silence. ‘So, what do you think of the Hall?’ I asked, finally remembering how to do the small talk business.
She gave me a sharp look. ‘Very stately. I’m sure it’s very effective at impressing its guests.’
‘Like you?’
‘But I’m not a guest, am I Mr Strachan? I’m not entirely sure of my classification right now, but I’m not a bloody guest.’
I decided to drop it. I had a far more pressing question to ask. ‘Look, while it’s just the two of us, could I ask you something?’
‘Sure.’
‘Why didn’t you say anything? About me, in there, when Blaine asked… It wasn’t because you were knackered at all, was it?’
‘No, it was because you really didn’t want me to.’ There was no malice in her words but I avoided her gaze all the same.
‘Don’t know what you mean.’
‘Look, we all have our reasons for hiding things away. Despite my recent altercation with Mr Buckle, I’m not usually in the business of destroying people.’
‘I’m not hiding anything away.’ I felt my heart quicken, and wondered if she noticed even this.
‘Then why the lie about where you’re from?’
I flicked the glowing cigarette butt over the fence and watched it fall into the darkness like a firefly. ‘What, you’re saying I’m not Irish?’ I actually managed to laugh.
‘Oh, you’re Irish, all right. I’m simply saying you’re not from where you said.’
God knew what breed of morbid curiosity drove me to ask my next question. ‘So. Where am I from?’
Lilith pulled her shawl a little tighter. ‘When I was in Dublin, I spent a couple of days doing a mural at a community centre on one of those big estates that the Celtic Tiger had galloped past without stopping. Made me feel better about what I was charging the sucker with the restaurant.’
‘I commend your charity, but I don’t see what that’s got to do with me.’
‘Because that’s your accent, Mr Strachan. Under that practised rural brogue, you have the vowel sounds and intonation of someone from the high-rises of the Mountkelly Estate, or very bloody close indeed.’
‘Fuck.’ Half a mile. This woman that I’d known for barely two hours had placed me half a mile from my inglorious slum of a birthplace and in doing so stripped away the fragile veneer that made me who I was now. My first response was self-protection. ‘Don’t say anything, please? To Blaine, I mean. This… what you’ve just told me. It’s a little sensitive, if you get me.’
‘Like I said. I’m not I’m not in the business of destroying people.’
Lilith
It was the things I hadn’t shared with him that disturbed me most. The way he smoked a cigarette palmed into his hand like it was the last one for a week, or how he positioned himself so that he could see whoever came into the room, or how the product that was Blaine Albermarle scared him shitless no matter how hard he tried to hide it.
For once, I wanted to switch off my gift. Standing on the moonlit patio with this hauntingly beautiful man, I suddenly felt unbearably sad.
The skittering of claws on pavement broke the moment. A small, elderly lurcher came trotting out of the bushes and put her paws on Finn’s knees, wagging her brindle tail in delight.
‘You’ll get me killed, bloody dog,’ he softly chided, and bent to stroke her head. ‘How the hell did you get out this time, huh?’
‘Your dog?’
‘Kind of. A stray. Mainland guests left her behind about two years ago.’ He gave a sad smile. ‘Too old and too ugly, weren’t you, Bran?’
‘Clever name. Bran – the noble hound of the great Finn Mac Cumhail himself.’
‘Shite!’ Finn grinned up at me at the mention of Ireland’s mythical warrior and this time it was his real smile, glorious and open. ‘No-one around here knows that! How the fuck d’you know about Finn Mac Cumhail?’
‘The estate project I mentioned? The mural was based on the great Irish legends, and I’m a bitch for research. I’ve got one of those horrendous personalities that needs to know every detail about whatever I’m working on.’ I didn’t add that my current commission was the misjudged first exception to this rule.
The smile faded as quickly as it had arrived. ‘Well good luck on this one,’ Finn said, just as Blaine returned to the dining room and called us in for a nightcap.
Chapter Seven
Lilith
My first morning at Albermarle Hall found me imposing my usual routine on my new surroundings, and by six o’clock I had worked out that three circuits of the island made for one mi
le of challenging running. The English morning air hit me like a bucket of iced water, and it took all my concentration to steady my breathing as I adjusted to my new surroundings and picked my way over the rocky, unforgiving terrain.
I was completing my tenth lap when Henry appeared on a grassy rise above the shore. ‘You weren’t kidding when you said you were an early bird, were you?’ he called. He wore a blue and white striped apron over his neatly pressed trousers and shirt and looked every inch the butler. ‘Shall I serve breakfast in twenty minutes?’
‘Sure. Nothing too heavy, thanks. Just cooling down now.’
Water the colour of tea soaked into my trainers as I walked along an expanse of gravel by the lakeside for my final circuit. In daylight the Hall looked even more like a citadel, perched imperious and threatening on its craggy islet, and it appeared that apart from the little jetty that had been constructed recently, there was no easy place to land. With a shiver that I hoped was more to do with the chill of the morning, I realised it would also be one hell of a place to try to leave.
*****
By seven I was washed and changed into my working uniform of tracksuit bottoms and paint-spattered t-shirt and sitting alone in the palatial dining room, toying with the remains of a bowl of muesli. The silence was deafening.
Henry reappeared to refill my green tea. ‘Is everything to your liking?’
I considered the polite response, then went for the truth. ‘No, not really. I feel like I’m rattling around in here and I’ve got a severe case of MP3 withdrawal. I don’t suppose there’s anywhere a little less imposing to eat, is there?’