Blackthorn Winter Read Online Free PDF Page A

work." He turned back to Mom. "It'll be good to have the sunroom in use again."
    I wasn't so sure that Dunk-o agreed, but at least he'd stopped glowering. I wanted to say something to him, but the only thing that came to mind just then was "I love your accent." I caught myself in time, thankfully, because
I
was the one with the accent here, not him.
    Now he was just looking fixedly out the window. I glanced at the window to see what was so fascinating, but it was dark. I didn't know what the story was about his mum, but my mom obviously did because she spoke gently to him. "Your mum's death came as very sad news to me, Duncan," she said. "I knew your mum back when Liza and I were art students in London, you know, years ago. Nora was such a sweetheart. And such a vibrant person. We just knew that she would be the one of us to hit the big time first"
    Duncan,
I thought, glad to know his name wasn't really Dunk-o. I gave him a sympathetic glance, but he wouldn't look over at me, just kept his eyes fixed on the window.
    "And she did," Quent said. "Nora was really moving up in the art world before the accident. Getting a real name for herself. We were so proud of her, weren't we, Dunk?"
    Duncan nodded, looking away. I wondered if he was trying not to cry.
    "Such a tragedy," Liza said, moving over to slip her arm through Quent's. "Cut down in her prime. Hard to believe it's already been two years ... But that's always the
way it is with death, isn't it? You never know when your number's up."
    "We shared a flat back in the old days," Mom said hastily, smiling over at Duncan. "We were like three eccentric artists in our garret."
    He spoke up shyly, warming to Mom as people always did, eventually. "She showed me where that flat was once, when we were in London together."
    "Not that we were in our garret all that much, Hedda," Liza corrected her with a giggle. "We had our classes, of course, and studio work, but don't forget our home away from home ... the Dark Horse!"
    "Our little pub on the corner!" Mom was giggling, too. Edmund and Ivy were hanging over the banister, all ears.
    "I can imagine," said Quentin, smiling at Mom. "Now, speaking of pubs, Hedda, I'd like to invite you and your children to dinner at the Old Ship. They do a very good meal—not just your basic pies and chips but a really good roast as well. My treat, of course, to celebrate your first night in Blackthorn."
    "Why, thank you so much," said Mom. "But you really don't need to—"
    "I want to. Duncan and I both do, eh lad?"
    "Right," said Duncan. He slanted his shy smile at me then looked quickly away.
    So he wasn't entirely hopeless! And he had such a sweet smile, and such a nice, warm English accent—plus all that lovely red hair! I slanted a glance back at him, but he wasn't looking.
    Ivy and Edmund cheered from the stairs.
Food and plenty of it
was their motto. They came clattering down and then had to be introduced.
    After Quent had shaken hands with the Goops, Liza linked her arms through his. "I think a meal at the Ship sounds lovely," she trilled.
    But Quent unlinked his arm from hers. "I saw Oliver at the Emporium and he told me to tell you to hurry on home if you were still here when I got back. Said he hadn't seen you all day and he could use you in the shop now that Veronica isn't working there anymore."
    "Oh, bother." Liza wrinkled her brow. "He can run the shop much better on his own, especially since I sacked the little thief! And he is capable of making his own tea, too, you know. He likes to play helpless about anything more complicated than cheese on toast, but it's just a ruse to cover up that he's bone-lazy." She turned to Mom with a toss of her head. "Husbands!"
    Mom rolled her eyes as if she agreed, which I thought was being totally unfair and disloyal to Dad. "We'll have to make this a quick meal, though, I'm afraid," Mom said. "The jet lag is really starting to get to me, and the kids must be ready to collapse."
    "No we're not!"