Chapter Twenty-Eight
Rani is still fast asleep when my alarm goes off at seven the following morning. It’s a day off for the competitors at Castle
Beaumont, while the judging panel decides who will be awarded fourth place and the smallest of the grants.
My head is a little fuzzy, and I could do with a few more hours of sleep, but I always get up at seven a.m., seven days a
week, no matter what. We lived to a strict timetable when I lived in the home, and even after I left and had places in foster
care, I could never quite give up the feeling that I’d be in trouble if I didn’t follow it to the letter. It’s been good for
me as an adult anyway; routine is good. And in this weird, haunted castle full of very posh people and my potential brilliant
AI boyfriend, it’s nice to have something normal to cling to.
Dressing hastily, I go to check on Megan, who is also still fast asleep, completely oblivious to the world. She probably needs
a few extra hours, so I leave her to it and head downstairs for a litre or two of coffee, while I try to figure out how to
break the news to Forrest that his star pupil camped out in the garden for half the night. You know, subtly and with tact
so that he doesn’t totally freak out and have a panic attack.
“I found your star pupil, Megan, camped out in the garden at midnight,” I tell him when I find him already in the dining room with Artie.
My mouth and its fondness for saying whatever occurs to it wins again.
Forrest goes from sleepily watching Artie shovel Cheerios into her mouth to wide awake in a second.
“Wha . . . what?” he asks. He looks, well, he looks like a hot dad whose kid got him up at the crack of dawn on his day off.
Stubble accentuates his jawline, and his curls are messy and mussed up. I get a flash of what it might be like to wake up
next to him, in warm sheets with the heat of his body just out of reach, and THAT is not appropriate.
“Is Megan the little girl?” Artie asks. “I saw her too, Daddy. She was sad.”
“Uh-huh, sweetie,” he says. “What do you mean, Ava? Why . . . how was Megan camped out in the grounds?”
“Hang on a sec.” Having got to know me a little better, Lady B arranged for there to be my very own giant flask of coffee
with my name written on it and everything, which may possibly be the most glamorous thing that has ever happened to me. Picking
it up, I carry it to the table with a Castle Beaumont mug that she has also provided and fill it to the brim.
“So, I get back to my room last night and”—I look at Artie and decide to skip the Blue Lady part—“and I saw her wandering
about in the garden. I go down there and . . .”
A few minutes later I have caught Forrest fully up-to-date.
“Is she okay?” Forrest asks. Seeing his cup is empty, I fill it with coffee from my flask.
“Daddy, can I camp in one of the tiny houses?” Artie asks. “I would like to camp in the chapel with all the pretty flowers. I bet there are fairies there.”
“She is fine,” I tell him, smiling at Artie. “Fast asleep. I’ll take her up some breakfast in a bit. It’s summer holidays,
right, so it’s not like she has to go to school. It’s a day off, so even the kids aren’t coming back in. Megan gets that it
was not her best idea. But she’s safe, and that’s the main thing.”
“Poor kid.” Forrest drops his head into his hands. “I can’t believe I let that happen to her. And now”—he looks at Artie—“looks
like we might be going home a little early, kid.”
“No!” Artie cries. “I don’t want to go home early! You said we could play in the maze, and I could go on a boat! And what
about my friend? I don’t want to go home.”
“You won’t have to go home,” I tell Artie. “None of this is your fault, Forrest. You counted all the kids onto the bus. It
was the bus driver that didn’t notice she’d done a runner. I don’t really think even he is to blame. A teenage girl had a
brilliant idea that turned out to be a terrible life decision. It’s a story older than time.” I pour him another cup of coffee,
which is about as close as I can come to telling him that he is officially removed from my nemesis list.
“And anyway, the Blue Lady showed me where to find her, so she actually spent most of the night in five-star luxury while
I had my sleep disrupted every thirty-seven seconds by Rani’s snoring. I know because I timed her.”
“The Blue Lady?” Forrest half smiles and half frowns, which is more beguiling than it has any right to be.
“A ghost!” Artie says, eyes wide. Now that I know she is actively keen on the idea, I nod.
“Yes, her portrait is in my room,” I tell Artie. “She is very pretty, and very sad. She’s always looking for her little girl.”
“Eliza!” Artie cries. “And Eliza is always looking for her too, but they never find each other.”
“That’s right. Has Lady B given you a tour of the castle too?” I ask her.
“Is Lady B actually a bee?” Artie asks, with a very serious frown. “That would be a good name for a bee, unless it was a boy
bee. But okay if it’s a they bee. Lada Gaga isn’t a bee, is she?”
“No, she’s a Gaga,” I tell her, and she laughs with much more gusto than my joke has any right to demand. I like this child.
“Anyway, when I got back from dinner last night, there she was, pointing out the window right at Megan.”
“Oh, that’s right. You and Rani went on a double date.” Forrest’s fond smile for his daughter seems to wane a little. “How
did it go? You two make quite the tech power couple.”
“Power couple!” I snort. “I am not power anything, and we are not a couple. We’re just getting to know one another.” Briefly,
I wonder why I’m diminishing what Hal and I are, or might be to Forrest. Because it’s new, I rationalise. Because we haven’t
even found out ourselves yet. Yes, that’s the reason. “But we had a really nice time, thanks for asking.”
“If you marry Hal, can I be a bridesmaid?” Artie asks. “I have never been a bridesmaid, and I am the only one in the whole world. Only I want to wear trousers and an eye patch. Is that okay?”
“Best idea ever,” I assure her.
“Yay!” she says. “Come on, Daddy, let’s go on an adventure!”
“Thank you for taking care of Megan,” Forrest says as Artie drags him out of his chair.
“Oh well, anyone would have done the same thing,” I say, ridiculously pleased.
“Done the same thing about what?” Lady B arrives. Forrest and I exchange looks.
“Artie, run upstairs and wake your aunt, okay? I just need to chat to Lady B for a minute.”
Artie peers at Lady B.
“You are not a bee,” she says, a little disappointed. “Oh well, later, losers.”
“I think you better tell me what all this is about,” Lady B says, taking a seat next to me.
“It started with the Blue Lady . . .” I begin.