We drove back listening to Lucia di Lammermoor – the tale of a girl caught in a feud between her own family and that of another powerful clan. And then she went mad. I hoped it wasn’t portentous.
I parked my car behind the vacant lot, making sure it was as well hidden as it could be on a public street.
“Okay?” said Sebastian, squeezing my hand.
I laughed nervously at my own recklessness.
He led me through the darkness, following the line of a high fence. When we got to a large and beautiful Japanese maple that grew up close beside, he stopped. The tree partially obscured the fence.
“How are you at climbing?” he grinned at me.
“You’re joking?” He just smiled at me. “You’re not joking?!”
“I’ll help you.”
He climbed the fence easily, his strong arms pulling him up and over. He’d obviously done it many times before. He disappeared from sight briefly, then reappeared, balancing his torso on the fence as his arms reached down for me.
“Jump! I’ll pull you up!”
I took a deep breath and ran at the fence, jumping as high as I could. Sebastian grabbed my wrists and pulled me up but our combined momentum was too much, and we were pitched over the fence, crashing down onto the turf below.
The air was forced from my lungs and I lay there winded for several seconds. Sebastian struggled to sit up, which wasn’t easy as I’d landed mostly on him.
“Caro! Are you okay?”
I couldn’t answer.
“Caro!”
I gasped for air and started to giggle.
“Shit! You had me worried there for a minute. Seriously, are you okay?”
“Ow!” I sat up slowly, still slightly hysterical. “If I have to come in through your backyard again, I’m going to buy a ladder.”
Suddenly he pulled me to his chest and kissed me fiercely.
“What… what’s that for?” I gasped.
“You’re just so… brave!” he said, in awe.
I was pretty certain he had me confused with someone else.
“You are!” he insisted. “You always take that leap, whatever it is. God! I love that about you!”
I flushed at his unexpected praise: I really didn’t think it was justified, but I loved that he’d thought it, and loved it even more that he’d said it.
“Come on,” I whispered. “I want to make out in your bedroom.”
“Definitely up for that,” he agreed, laughing quietly.
He pulled me to my feet.
“Wait here a sec: I’ll make sure there’s no one around.”
I watched as he climbed onto a water barrel outside one of the rooms and levered himself in through a narrow window. I had the distinct impression that he was enjoying himself.
I stood alone in the darkness, knowing that I was being swept along by all the craziness; or maybe, finally, I’d just dove right in and stopped fighting it.
I saw a light go on upstairs and a moment later Sebastian was unlocking the back door.
“Coast’s clear,” he said grinning. “There’s no one in.”
From what I could see in the gloom, the Hunters’ kitchen was sleek and modern and well equipped. But everything had a pristine look about it, as if most of it had never been used. I remembered Sebastian saying that his mother never cooked. I could have gone to town in a kitchen like that – it was almost to a professional standard. I wondered why a woman, why anyone, would want to have a show-kitchen like that and not be tempted to use it. Maybe the answer was in the description: a show-kitchen; a kitchen for show – like everything else in Estelle Hunter’s life. Despite excessive opulence of the design, the room had a neglected air: the trash can was overflowing with pizza boxes and a surprisingly large number of empty wine bottles, beer cans and hard liquor bottles had been tossed haphazardly into the recycling box.
Sebastian towed me quickly down the hallway and up the stairs, eager to get me into his room. An unpleasant thought crossed my mind: how many times had he brought Brenda here, maybe to make out in his bedroom?