I'm Normally Perfect (re-upload)

Chapter Twelve

I nodded, unable to speak. I smiled tightly at her brother, which he didn't return. Alex took my arm and wheeled me around, 'Let's begin in the back, shall we?'

'Okey dokey.' Once we were out of earshot of her brother I added, 'Nice little library you've got there. Is it horribly uncouth of me to bring that up?'

She chuckled, 'Not at all. English people are taught to be endlessly cool. You know, if you're at a party and your host brings out the Hope diamond you're just supposed to say, "Oh, isn't that lovely?" and go back to your drink and conversation about the cricket. You're not allowed to be impressed by anything.'

I gestured to the paintings along the walls, 'Are you related to all these people?'

'I believe so, yes.' She pointed at a portrait of pale woman with blonde curls piled on her head whose dress looked like something a character in Sense and Sensibility would wear, 'That's Lavinia Morgan, some distant ancestor of my mother's.' We continued down the hall, 'Most of these people have been dead for so long I'd have to pull out the family tree to figure out precisely how we were related. The only one I ever met was this one,' we stopped in front of an enormous painting in an elaborate gold frame of a haughty looking woman with grey hair pulled away from her peaked face. She was dressed in a late-Victorian style black and dark purple dress. Lace and satin and ruffles up to her pointy chin, her thin lips were down-turned, her chin was tilted up and her hands were clasped in front of her stomach as though she were judging everyone who passed. 'Her name was Laetitia Pontefract; she was my mother's mother. She was a cold bitch.' She had the most unusually coloured eyes; they were captivating in a way. It took me a moment to realise where I had seen them before.

'You have the same eyes. They look better on you.'

She smiled, 'Thank you. Now, to the back.' We exited through a door in the main part of the building and she showed me the maze first. Once we found our way out of it, we walked through the rose garden, which had not yet begun to bloom, and she took me to the gazebo. We sat there, hidden from the world, the sound of a nearby fountain and birds in the background. 'You look happy.'

'I don't think I'd ever leave here if I didn't have to.'

'You like the house that much?'

'I meant this seat.' I looked into the forest that began a few metres from the gazebo. Something was in the trees, several greyish-white somethings. 'What're those?' I pointed.

'Cemetery. From the 1700s to the 1800s. There's a little chapel back there as well.'

'Doesn't that creep you out?'

She shook her head, 'Not particularly. I always thought it exciting, but I liked ghost stories and that sort of thing growing up. I loved lying around in the graveyard, it was like having my own ghost story.'

I looked at her askance, 'You were a weird kid.'

'Do you not care for scary stories?'

'I haven't read many, just The Woman in White, which I liked quite a lot.'

'I'll have to pick out a book of Victorian ghost stories, they're the best sort.'

'Ok, but it doesn't take much to scare me, so you might wake up one morning to find me curled up at the foot of your bed like Clementine. Speaking of, where did the dogs get off to?'

'Exploring, I expect. Cate watches the fish in the pond and Clem rolls about on the grass in the front. They'll show up when it's dinnertime.'

'Does Cate ever go after the fish in the pond?'

'She did once. That got it out of her system.'

On our way back to the house I pointed out a huge Roman style sculpture of a woman, 'That's amazing, I never understood how they get marble to look so smooth.'