The House That Was Eureka Read Online Free PDF

ever would!
    ‘Oh, she’s cunning, isn’t she,’ Noel murmured too softly for her to hear, ‘the old Lucrezia Borgia.’
    The despot fixed her eyes hard on Noel now, and pointed to her writing stuff on the bedside table. She could easily reach it herself, but Noel handed it to her. It was a thing called a magic-pad, that kids use: a sort of soft slate that you write on with a special pen, and then you lift up the transparent cover-sheet and all the writing disappears.
    ‘ THE BLIND ’, the despot wrote in big capitals, like someone writing an anonymous hate-letter. She showed it to Noel, then lifted the transparent page and erased it. She always erased immediately. Before Noel got her the magic-pad she used to use ordinary pen and paper, and then as soon as the notes were read she’d tear them into tiny shreds and Noel would have to spend ages picking up all the confetti from the floor.
    Noel smiled, and took the pad from her. Though she could hear perfectly well, he sometimes conversed back with her by notes. Just for fun. A dose of her own medicine.
    ‘ THERE’S NONE SO BLIND ,’ Noel wrote, ‘ AS THOSE WHO WILL NOT SEE .’ He gave it to her.
    ‘Nor so dumb,’ Noel said, ‘as those who refuse to speak.’
    The despot erased angrily.
    ‘ IMPERTINENCE !’ she wrote. Showed it, erased, then wrote: ‘ FIX THE BLIND .’
    Noel looked up, and realized that not only was the blind all the way up, but that it was caught there, stuck there because the cord had got cobbled round and round the roller. She must have yanked it up so hard that it flew away from her.
    ‘Scuzey-moi,’ Noel said.
    He climbed onto the bed, up over her, then stood on tiptoe on the window-sill to reach up and untangle it. It was difficult, he was so short.
    ‘I wonder when we did this.’
    Noel strained and grunted, nearly toppled onto her, then did it.
    ‘There we are.’
    Noel was back on the ground. ‘Any more little services? We’re only too willing to oblige.’
    ‘ WASH YOUR HAIR ,’ the despot wrote.
    Noel smiled, erased it for her.
    ‘ REMOVE THE BREAKFAST ,’ the despot wrote. She waved her ring-hand at the electric food-warmer beside her bed. Mum always made her a good breakfast and left it there before she went to work. It would be eaten by the time Noel got up, and one of his before-school duties was to take the empty plates down and wash them. His midday duty was to come home from school and warm up her dinner and take it up and put it in the food-warmer. His first after-school duty was to remove the empty dinner plates and take up the afternoon tea. The despot loved her food.
    Noel opened the food-warmer for the empty plates. But the porridge bowl was full under its silver lid and there were two eggs and bacon under another lid and four slices of toast under a third. That was a new one on Noel: the despot off her tucker.
    Noel put them on the tray without comment. The cup had been used but the teapot was nearly full: only one cup instead of her standard three, and she’d drunk it without milk.
    As Noel headed for the door, there was a croak behind him.
    ‘
Noh!
’
    The sound the despot made for his name. She had a different, two-syllable croak for Mum.
    Noel turned. The despot was holding up her pad.
    ‘ THE NEIGHBOURS .
    WHAT ARE THEY LIKE ?’
    ‘I dunno.’ Noel wasn’t a spy for her.
    The despot shook her head and impatiently erased.
    ‘ THE GIRL .
    HOW OLD ?
    DESCRIBE HER .’
    ‘Ravishingly lovely. Spunky as hell. Just the right age. I’m head over heels already.’
    The despot gave him a look. Those narrow dark eyes, like Noel’s own, impenetrable. Noel waited, balancing the loaded tray. Till the angry erase, the next message.
    ‘ TELL YOUR MOTHER
    I COULDN’T EAT .’
    ‘Have a nice day.’ Noel beamed and was out the door.
    Of course Noel wouldn’t tell Mum. The old girl was just bunging on an act. ‘There’s a little surprise though, waiting for you, my lady.’ Noel ate the bacon, but put the