I'm Normally Perfect (re-upload)

Chapter Twelve

My heart pounding in my ears, I said, 'Like Tamora in Titus Andronicus. She was the queen of the Goths.'

'Yes.' He directed his attention to Alex, 'Supper's nearly ready.'

'Thank you.' After he left us she turned to me, '"Titus Andronicus"?'

I was panting, he'd scared me half to death. 'It was the only thing I could think of to say.' I crossed to her and she put her arm around me and led me into the hallway.

'Do you think you could find your way to your room from here?'

'Uh, no. I'm guessing it's one floor down and in the wing opposite from this one.'

'Two floors down and yes, this is the east wing. Are you hungry?'

'As soon as my stomach removes itself from my throat I will be.'

She chuckled and took my hand, 'You do make him out to be worse than he is.'

'All righty.' I held her hand whilst we walked.

'Anyway, Violet is a splendid cook, so prepare yourself.'

'Is your brother going to think badly of me if I hold my utensils like an American?'

'Fork in left hand and knife in right to cut then switching hands to eat?'

'Yeah, is that going to bother him? Because if he's going to give me the look of death throughout the meal I can try to change. I've attempted to eat like a European before, upside down fork and everything.'

'How did that work out for you?'

'Well, it definitely stops me snarfing down the meal in five minutes.'

She laughed and squeezed my hand, ' "Snarfing"? The words you use.'

We made our way to the ground floor where the dining room was in the back part of the main body of the house. Anthony was standing at one end of a table long enough to seat twenty. Three large candelabras on the table and the sideboard were providing what, in other circumstances, would have been an elegant atmosphere, but in my nervousness seemed sinister. I half expected Vincent Price to come strolling out of the shadows. Anthony gestured to chairs near his, 'Do have a seat.' Alex sat closest to him and I took the chair on the other side of her.

Lightning struck, illuminating the room for a moment. That's when I realised the back wall of the dining room held three enormous windows comprised of dozens of squares of glass, which offered a wide view of the back garden. Another bolt of lightning allowed a clear view of the trees being whipped to and fro.

Anthony observed, 'Ah, I was wondering when the storm was going to arrive.' He pulled out the chair at the head of the table and sat down, just as he placed his napkin on his lap a man dressed in a tailcoat entered carrying a large tureen and the tall maid, Nathalie, followed behind. She served us then the shorter maid, Constance, brought water and also poured wine in our goblets. "Goblet" is the correct term, I'm sure; it was etched crystal and quite heavy. I'd never had wine before but thought it would be rude to refuse. I was grateful there was only one way to hold a spoon and had a sip of my soup; it was amazing. I looked up to find Anthony glaring at me as if I'd wiped my mouth on their late mother's tablecloth. I lost my appetite immediately and looked at Alex.

She said quietly, 'You're supposed to wait for the host to begin the meal.'

I tried not to cry, 'Oh.' I wasn't hungry after that and only wanted to find my room and go to bed. Even a rube like me knew that was unacceptable so I forced myself to eat what I'm sure was a delicious meal of roast beef and vegetables followed by treacle pudding. Alex and her brother talked amongst themselves and I kept my attention on my no doubt priceless plate, scared that if I tried to speak I'd weep. Occasionally Alex tried to include me in the conversation, telling Anthony I had found the Robert Burton book and how we were going to have it appraised, but Anthony acted as though I wasn't there and I did the same, waiting to be excused.