The Lost Art of Keeping Secrets Read Online Free PDF Page A

skills as a magician seemed entirely appropriate; never before
had I met someone who looked capable of turning men into frogs and frogs into
princes. Charlotte smiled at him.
    ‘Back
already?’
    ‘I
haven’t been out yet. Got trapped with Phoebe in the kitchen,’ he said in a low
voice.
    ‘Oh,
poor thing,’ said Charlotte. ‘Why don’t you have some tea?’
    ‘No
thanks.’
    Are you
dreading this evening terribly?’ went on Charlotte, her voice soft and full of
concern.
    ‘Nor
particularly,’ said Harry. ‘I love her, she loves him. It’s not exactly the
most original story in the world, is it?’
    I
sipped cold tea to hide my astonishment. Where I came from, nobody spoke like
this, least of all in front of their family. Harry lit another cigarette with
elegant fingers, and walked over to the fire.
    ‘This
house is always so bloody cold,’ he snapped. ‘And I wish you would stop talking
about me to everyone who walks through the door, Mother.’
    I
presumed he was referring to me, though I wondered who everyone else was.
Perhaps Charlotte did this every week? Perhaps I was the last in a long line of
mystery guests who were asked to tea with Aunt Clare?
    ‘Penelope’s
not everyone, she’s my friend,’ Charlotte corrected him.
    ‘Then I
don’t expect her views differ largely from your own.’
    ‘I don’t
know about that,’ I said, with perfect truth. Charlotte reached over for yet
another slice of cake. For a second I caught Harry’s eye, but this time, far
from making me blush for his own entertainment, he looked straight through me
as though I wasn’t there at all.’
    ‘You
see what I mean?’ demanded Aunt Clare triumphantly after he had left us for a
second time. ‘He has none of his father’s ability to sit still and do nothing.’
She stood up. ‘Girls, you must excuse me, I have to see to Phoebe. Delightful,
Penelope.’
    I
scrabbled to my feet. ‘Oh, thank you so much for tea. I’ve loved it,’ I said,
suddenly realising I had. Aunt Clare smiled at me.
    ‘Darling
girl,’ she said. ‘Do visit again soon.’ As she left the room, she paused and
whispered something in my ear. ‘Do remember me to Christopher. Just mention
Rome, September 1935 to him, won’t you?’ She winked, smiled and was gone.
     
    I left the house soon
after. Charlotte saw me to the door.
    ‘You
were just wonderful,’ she said, taking off my coat and handing it to me. ‘Aunt
Clare says I have to give this back to you now. She noticed right away that I’d
asked you to swap coats with me. She thinks I’m fiendish.’
    ‘Not at
all.’
    ‘And I am sorry to hear about your father. Mine’s dead too, you know. Heart attack,
which is much less romantic than dying for your country, isn’t it?’
    ‘I can’t
see any romance in death,’ I, said.
    Charlotte
looked at me incredulously. ‘Really? You’re obviously not even halfway through Antony
and Cleopatra then.’
    There
didn’t seem to be an answer for this.
    ‘I can’t
thank you enough for sharing the taxi and sitting through tea,’ she went on. ‘It
really makes such a change to have a guest for tea. Even Harry couldn’t
resist popping in to have a gawp at you.’
    ‘I
hardly think he was gawping,’ I said. I gave Charlotte her green coat, feeling
suddenly foolish and wondering what to say next. ‘Well, goodbye then,’ I said
stiffly. ‘I hope we meet again one day.’
    Charlotte
laughed. ‘What a thing to say! Of course we shall.’
    I
laughed. ‘How certain you are! Why on earth should we?’
    ‘We all
adore you already,’ Charlotte said, kissing me on both cheeks. ‘None of us will
let you go now. Have a good journey home.’
    As I
walked away, Charlotte called out to me. ‘Hey!’ she shouted. ‘Penelope!’
    I
turned round. ‘Yes?’
    ‘Do you
like music?’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Music.
What music do you like?’
    I
paused. Charlotte looked to me like a jazz fan and I hated jazz. But how could
I tell her that I was madly in love with