The Shadow Sister (The Seven Sisters #3)



During supper with CeCe later that evening, my mobile rang.

‘Excuse me, I just need to take this.’ I stood up, feeling CeCe’s eyes boring into my back, and walked onto the terrace.

‘Hi Star,’ said Mouse. ‘Just reporting in. If all goes well, Orlando should be discharged tomorrow. But the doctor was wary of him being alone for the next few days, given the head injury and his epilepsy. He might be more prone to fitting, especially since – as I suspected – Orlando admitted he had “forgotten” to take his medication recently. The upshot is, whether he likes it or not, I’m going to have to take him back to Kent with me.’

‘Do you need me to come down and help? Orlando agreed it was okay.’

‘Star, if you would, that would be fantastic. Marguerite leaves again for France on Sunday night and Orlando’s made it patently clear he won’t stay at Home Farm with me, so you’ll have both Rory and Orlando with you at High Weald. Text me the time of the train you’re getting on Sunday, and I’ll come to the station to pick you up.’

‘Okay, will do. Bye.’ I ended the call and went back to the table.

‘What does that family want of you now?’ CeCe demanded.

‘I have to go down to High Weald on Sunday. My boss is recovering there and he needs my help.’

‘You mean he needs you as an unpaid nurse,’ CeCe snorted. ‘Goodness, Sia, you’re paid peanuts, and let’s face it, you’re only shop staff, after all.’

‘I’ve told you, I love the house and the family. It’s no hardship.’ I piled up the empty plates on the table and carried them to the sink. ‘Can we leave it be? I’m going, and that’s that.’

‘You know what, Sia?’ CeCe said after a pause. ‘You’ve changed since you met that family. You really have.’





33

Maybe I had – changed, that was. And like with any addiction, be it narcotics or a person, I’d been given a green light to return to High Weald, and every single reason not to had flown from my mind like smoke on a breeze. My mobile rang as I was clearing away breakfast and I saw it was Orlando.

‘Hello. How are you feeling?’ I asked him.

‘I am at least out of confinement, but have been unceremoniously carted down to the arctic conditions of High Weald. Against my will, I might add. I am perfectly well and able to take care of myself, and I resent being treated like a three-year-old child.’

‘I’m sure that Mouse was only following doctor’s orders.’

‘The only bright spot on the horizon is that I hear tell you are joining us soon. At least I’ll have some decent food to look forward to in the desert of my misery.’

‘I am, yes.’

‘Thank God. Really, I have no idea how poor Rory survives. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was suffering from malnutrition and scurvy. Kent is known as the Garden of England, yet we live on toast and baked beans. I shall call the farm shop and order in supplies forthwith, and we shall eat like kings when you arrive. Also, I was wondering if I could request a favour?’

‘What is it?’

‘Could you pass by the bookshop and pick up my laptop? I believe it currently resides on my bed upstairs. I have a couple of clients who are searching for a Trollope and a Fitzgerald to present to their loved ones for Christmas. I’m sure there’s internet in Tenterden, and needs must when the devil drives.’

‘Mouse has internet at Home Farm,’ I reminded him.

‘I am aware of that, Miss Star, as it is technically my family home too. But given the circumstances, I would not darken his doorstep if I were on the verge of death, let alone for the sale of a book.’

‘Yes, I can go,’ I said, ignoring his comment.

‘Thank you, and I shall look forward to seeing you tomorrow.’

‘Bye, Orlando.’

I took a bus up to Kensington High Street and, on the way to the bookshop, bought myself three thick woollen jumpers, some bed socks and a hot water bottle as ballast against the cold.

Arriving at the bookshop, I headed up the stairs and swung open the door to Orlando’s bedroom. There were books piled on every available inch of surface. A stack of them were masquerading as a bedside table, and a lamp stood precariously on top of Robinson Crusoe. The laptop sat in the middle of the bed, on top of the faded eiderdown and surrounded by even more books, to the point where I wondered how Orlando found space to sleep at night.

I carried the laptop downstairs, thinking there was little doubt about the love of Orlando’s life. And what an accommodating love it was: at the turn of a page, he could be transported anywhere he wished to escape to, away from the drudgery of reality.

I walked through the shop, then a thought struck me and I hovered by the ‘British Fiction, 1900–1950’ section. With a jolt, I saw that that particular patch of shelf was now empty, only a fine line of dust visible on the wood where Flora MacNichol’s journals had sat. As I left the shop, I wondered if Orlando had moved them elsewhere or if he had something else in mind for them.

The journey down to High Weald was now a familiar one and I did not panic when I arrived at Ashford and couldn’t see Mouse’s car waiting for me. He turned up eventually, gave me a curt ‘hi’ and we sped out of the station at breakneck speed.

‘Glad you’re here. It’s not been fun playing nursemaid to my brother. I know you’re fond of him, but God, he can be difficult when he wants to be. He’s still refusing to speak to me.’

‘He’ll get over it eventually, I’m sure.’

‘He may have to do it faster than that. I had a call from the owners of the shop next door to Arthur Morston Books. They sell Far Eastern antiquities, and apparently, business is booming, what with the Russians buying up properties in London. They’ve made an offer on the shop. It’s a good one, and the agent thinks he can push them up further with the threat of putting it on the open market.’

‘But what about the books? Where would they go? Never mind Orlando,’ I said.

‘God knows,’ Mouse said grimly. ‘I hadn’t expected to think about things like this so soon. But given the difficult market, we have to consider the offer.’

‘Will there be any money left over for Orlando to find an alternative home for him and his books?’

‘Once the shop is sold and the debt paid off, the rest of the funds will be shared between the two of us. In fact, given Orlando has hundreds of thousands of pounds’ worth of stock in that shop, we won’t come out of it too badly at all. There’ll be plenty for him to take out a lease on another premises if that’s what he wants to do.’

‘Good.’

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