by Amy Cross
***
“I was sorry to hear about your grandmother,” Alice said with impressive earnestness. “I was shocked when I heard, and I wanted to come and perhaps visit her, but father said I should wait. Still, Anna always seemed so healthy and happy. I always joked that she was going to outlive us all.”
“It was very sudden,” Ephram explained as he made his way to the counter. “One day she was up and about, her usual self, and then the next she got it into her head to go scrambling up that hill toward the Le Compte mansion, all in the rain. God alone knows what made her do such a thing, but now she is bedridden.” He paused for a moment; he'd always liked Alice Marco and he was proud to be her godfather, but now that she was twenty-one years old, she reminded him of the child he'd never had himself. “She'll be in peace soon, though. She has had a tough life, and at least she will never have to see the state of the island today.”
“And where are the chickens?” Alice asked.
“In the yard. In a cage. Poor things.”
“But -”
“Otherwise the rats will eat them,” he added. “I can't protect them, you see. No matter what I do, the rodents find a way past me and... I got so tired of finding the bloodied bodies, I didn't know what else to do.”
“Oh.” Alice paused. “Could... Could I go and pet them?”
“There's no point. They're not happy out there, you can see it in their beady little eyes. Sometimes I try singing to them at night, to make them feel better, but I don't think it works. They are angry at me for putting them in a cage, and they don't understand that if I let them out, they'll be eaten by rats.” He paused again. “Anyway, what brings you here? It can't just be to talk to an old man.”
“My mother sent me to fetch some baking powder,” Alice replied. “I know it's late, and I was worried you might have closed early.”
“You and your mother are in luck,” Ephram told her, wincing as he sat on his stool. This late at night, his tired old bones were aching more than ever. “Right behind you, top shelf. You might have to dig around a bit, I think it's been pushed to the back.”
Alice turned and dutifully began to look through the items on the top shelf. Not immediately finding what she was after, she pushed some old cans aside and finally spotted a lonely tub of baking powder pushed toward the very back. Reaching to get it, she barely even noticed that something was moving in the shadows until it was too late to pull back. She let out a cry of pain as she felt a small pair of teeth sink into her flesh, and when she pulled her hand out a large rat came with it, quickly detaching and tumbling to the floor.
“Mother of God!” Ephram shouted, leaping from his stool and grabbing his mop, before running around the counter and slamming the handle down against the dazed rodent, shattering its skull and sending a small spray of blood across the floor.
“Got you!” he hissed, giving it another couple of whacks just to make sure.
Turning to Alice, he saw that she was hurt. He dropped the mop and hurried over to take a look at her wrist, which had been partly torn open by the creature's bite. Blood was flowing freely from the wound, and even as Ephram tied a cloth over the injury, the fabric was quickly stained red.
“It doesn't hurt that much,” Alice said, even though she was clearly in pain. “Really, there's no need to fuss.”
“I'm so sorry,” he muttered, pressing the cloth down hard.
“It's not your fault. I'm fine, honestly.”
“Rats spread disease,” Ephram replied, holding her arm up as he led her to the door. “I'm taking you to see the doctor, whether you like it or not. Any rat that came ashore from Edgar Le Compte's boat is bound to be particularly nasty. We must just hope that the damn thing wasn't carrying anything dangerous!”
“But your grandmother -”
“She'll be okay by herself for a short time,” Ephram told her as he hurried her out into the courtyard. “I don't think she can be in much danger just sitting alone in bed.”
As he led Alice out of the courtyard, there was a faint banging sound above. The window to his mother's room was still open, and a gentle breeze was shaking it on its hinges.
III
“It's a really good steak,” Kate said with a forced smile that she hoped might help to break the ice. “Did you make it yourself?”
Sitting at the head of the table, barely even visible in the candlelit gloom of the state room, Edgar turned to her for a moment. He had a blank expression, almost as if he wasn't quite sure what he'd just heard.
“Make it myself?” he asked after a moment.
“You cooked a steak for me when I was here before,” Kate continued, already wishing that she hadn't said anything at all. “It was the night when Ephram Kazakos's mother was out in the rain, and you found her and brought her to your home. You made us each a steak.”
He stared at her for a moment.
“Of course,” he said finally, “but that was when my house was un-staffed. Now I have a full kitchen, so there is no need for me to cook my own food. There are several chefs and they...”
His voice faded for a moment, as if some other thought had intruded upon his mind.
“If there is anything you want,” he added finally, “anything at all, you must simply go to the kitchen and tell them. Any time, day or night, they'll be only too happy to oblige. I have the finest ingredients shipped in once a week from all around the world. This steak, for example, is from wild Argentinian buffalo. Within an hour of being slaughtered, it's on a plane to Naples, and then it's transported to the harbor and brought here on my private boat. Of all life's pleasures, I consider food to be the most important. We must be careful when it comes to putting things in our bodies, there's...”
Again, his voice trailed off, and this time the silence persisted.
Kate smiled again, but she was starting to feel as if every word was a strain for Edgar. It had been twenty minutes or so since he'd arrived in the state room, and the change in his mood was startling. Gone was the confident charm that he had exuded three months ago; instead, this version of Edgar Le Compte was dour and brooding, and his face seemed tired and weathered, with dark rings under his eyes. Kate found it hard to believe that someone could change so much in just a few months, but it was clear that life on Thaxos was not suiting him at all.
“I'm going to start work first thing in the morning,” she said eventually, still hoping to get a proper conversation started. “It'll probably take a week just to organize everything before I can properly begin, but I was thinking that maybe -”
“That sounds fine,” Edgar muttered, cutting a slice off the side of his steak.
“I was thinking of digitizing everything as I work,” Kate continued. “It'll all be labeled, and eventually you'll have a completely indexed collection that can be accessed on a computer, while the original documents will be archived in case they're required for closer inspection. I don't know how far you really want to go with this project, but it would certainly be possible to put everything online so that the world can see the history of your family.”
“I have no desire to let the world see anything,” Edgar replied. “I am happy to have the collection digitized, however. The most important thing is that everything is put in order, and that items of particular interest are set aside so that they can be studied. They are...”
Kate waited for him to finish, but once again the effort of making conversation seemed to be too much for him. It was rare for Kate to feel like the most social person in a room, but right now she was starting to wonder whether it might be better to just eat her food in silence and then make an excuse so she could retire for the night.
Suddenly, from the other end of the table, there was a bone-juddering scratching sound, as the prongs of a silver fork were slowly scratched across a plate.
Kate turned to see Didi sitting in the shadows with a look of pure anger in her eyes. If the past few months had brought about a change to Edgar's appearance, the same was doubly true of Didi: she s
till had a slim, youthful frame, but her eyes seemed loaded down with worry, and there was a kind of darkness to her expression that seemed to be fixed solely on Edgar. It was as if she was carrying some great burden in her soul, and as she continued to scratch her fork against the plate, she stared at Edgar with malice. She clearly wanted his attention.
“Do you wish to say something, my dear?” Edgar asked eventually, his voice filled with tension.
“Like what?” Didi asked, her voice filled with venom as she kept her gaze fixed firmly on him.
“I have no idea. Why don't you share your thoughts with the rest of the table?”
“How long is she going to be here?” Didi asked.
“Miss Langley is here to work on the archive,” Edgar replied.
“I know that. I'm not an idiot, I heard you talking, but how long is it going to take?”
“As long as necessary,” Edgar said dourly.
“And how long is that going to be?”
“I have no idea.”
“But you must know. It can't be an open-ended project. How long?”
“Actually,” Kate started to say, “it's -”
“It will take as long as it takes,” Edgar snapped suddenly, slamming his cutlery against the table. “I'm sorry if the project is inconvenient, but I must have my family's history put in order, and I would kindly ask you not to interfere. There is to be no debate on this matter. What does it matter to you, anyway? You spend all day sunning yourself by the pool, so it's of little consequence if work is being undertaken elsewhere in the house.”
Sighing, Didi kept her gaze fixed on him, and it was clear that she didn't take kindly to the tone in Edgar's voice.
Kate waited, sensing that the argument was not yet over; in fact, it seemed to be just beginning, and as she finished her steak, she figured it would be best to excuse herself. Then again, it would be painfully obvious if she left immediately, so she tried to work out how long, exactly, she should stay before it would be polite to leave.
“So,” she started to say, “I was -”
“What about my family archive?” Didi asked, cutting her off while keeping her eyes fixed on Edgar. “Huh? Is anyone gonna come and work on a bunch of boxes about my family?”
Edgar let out a faint laugh.
“Is something funny?” Didi continued.
“You have no family archive,” Edgar replied, evidently finding the idea to be rather amusing. “You don't even have a family. The only things in your archive would be a couple of computer print-outs and a hospital bracelet. You're an orphan, Didi, and that's just the way I like it. It's one of the reasons I was drawn to you in the first place, remember? I'm eternally grateful for the fact that you came unencumbered with any petty family baggage.”
“Bastard,” she muttered under her breath.
“Excuse me?”
She shrugged.
“So I was thinking I might go to my room,” Kate said cautiously. “I'm tired and -”
“I would very much like you to stay,” Edgar replied, keeping his eyes fixed on Didi.
“That's nice of you,” Kate continued, “but I've had a long day and I really want to get a good night's sleep so I can start bright and early tomorrow.”
“I understand,” Edgar said, finally turning to her, “but I must insist that you join us for a drink in the conservatory first. You are going to be with us for a long time, and it would seem to be only natural for us to get to know one another a little better. I'm sure that everyone can become friendly if they just get to know one another a little.”
Didi let out a derisory snort, as if the whole idea sickened her.
“Please ignore my fiance's behavior,” Edgar continued, keeping his eyes fixed on Kate. “I'm afraid that she can't always be relied upon to act in an appropriate manner. However, I'm sure that the three of us will be able to get along just fine, and that is why I would like us to spend a little time together tonight.” He waited for her to reply. “Please, Kate. It's very important to me that this project starts on the right foot.”
“Sure,” Kate replied, even though the idea made her cringe inside. “That sounds great.”
