Amanda Cadabra and The Strange Case of Lucy Penlowr by Holly Bell (best english novels for beginners .txt) 📕

‘Redecorating? Though why he needs to work at it from the crack of dawn is a mystery to me.’

‘And why is he cooking so much if he usually doesn’t?’

‘Yes, I’ve wondered that too,’ agreed Trelawney.

‘Hm. And what does the story so far have to do with Lucy?’

‘I’m in the dark every bit as much as you, I’m afraid, Miss Cadabra. All we can do is wait until tomorrow. As I said, I have a feeling that this story is in some way intensely personal to Mike, and we must allow him to tell it in his own way.’

‘You’re right. I suppose I have been a bit ... oh ... importunate.’

Trelawney smiled as he watched the road ahead. ‘Don’t be apologetic. I think Mike is rather enjoying your obvious enthrallment.’

Amanda laughed.

‘Aren’t you just as eager to hear where it’s going?’

‘Perhaps. But this story concerns you rather than me.’

‘Is that what your instinct tells you?’

‘Very much so. Pick you up at 5.30 tomorrow?’

‘Thank you. I might just have a lazy day. Beach, read, order in lunch.’ Amanda looked over her shoulder. ‘That would please oo, wouldn’t it, Mr Cuddly-Wuddly?’

Trelawney, in the rear-view mirror, caught the glare of Tempest’s amber eyes lighting up the back half of the car. The inspector had been thinking of inviting Miss Cadabra to the station again for a proper tour but at Amanda’s words abandoned the notion. That cat must have read his mind because he clearly saw the smirk on its face and heard the words in his head:

None but the brave deserve the fair.

***

The following evening, after the first course, Hogarth returned to the kitchen, telling Amanda and Trelawney to stay where they were until called. Soon they heard the sound of frying with intermittent slapping, the oven door opening and closing then more frying. Next came the pop of a lid opening, the sound of the fridge door, the glug of thick liquid being poured, the click of the gas ignition and finally, ‘Come and make the tea, you two, and collect your plates.’

They needed no second call but instantly got to their feet. Amanda led the way in and got out cups and teabags, but Hogarth was deliberately obscuring the view of the operation in progress. Trelawney took the dairy and coconut milk out of the fridge, and soon the tea was made.

‘Right. Come and get it,’ called their host.

‘It looks lovely.’ Amanda picked up her plate.

‘A Spanish dessert: Frixuelos de Asturias,’ Hogarth explained.

‘Pancakes? What’s inside?’ asked Trelawney.

‘Apple compôte, with coconut cream and custard for Amanda and ordinary for us.’

‘Wow, thank you, Uncle Mike. You’ve gone to a lot of trouble.’

‘Well, our story has now taken us to Spain, and we are about to meet an ardent fan of all things sweet.’

‘Lucy?’

But Hogarth did not reply, merely led the way back to the sitting-room and, once they were all sitting comfortably, resumed his tale.

***

The name on the bell was Lucia Palomo. The house, with its white-washed stucco walls and red half-barrel roof tiles, was a little way away from its neighbours. To the uninitiated, it would have seemed a small house for so large a family. Perhaps they would have assumed that, TARDIS-like, it was bigger inside than it looked on the outside. There was also a long building attached that might have had more rooms.

Hogarth went up some steps onto a porch and rang. Shortly, the door was open. He took the hand held out to him and returned the welcoming smile.

‘Hello, Chief Inspector Hogarth, I’m Elodie. How do you do?’

‘Well, thank you. And thank you for seeing me.’

‘Please, come in. Vera and Harry explained?’

‘Yes, they did. I wasn’t quite sure, er, Elodie. You’re five? Yes?’

‘And a quarter,’ she added pleasantly.

‘Yes, of course. It separates you from all the ordinary five-year-olds,’ Hogarth said understandingly.

‘I don’t think there’s any difficulty in doing that, do you think?’ she replied, with a shy gleam.

He laughed. ‘Well no, not in the circumstances.’

‘Vee and Harry thought it would be easiest if you met me first. As I usually speak for the family. Please sit down and make yourself comfortable. Would you like tea? I have some ready.’

‘Please.’

Off went Elodie with a light, efficient step. There was a neatness about her, a confidence mixed with, not timidity exactly, but a kind of reticence. The way that she wore her loose cream linen capris, tan leather sandals and short-sleeved white shirt, reminded him of a school uniform.

Soon Elodie returned with the tray. She set it on the table between the chair where he sat and the sofa where she disposed herself, knees together, tucking her long pale hair behind one ear.

‘We’ll let it brew, shall we?’

He looked at the biscuits she’d served and commented with pleasure:

‘Hobnobs?’

‘Vera said they’re your favourite?’

‘Very much so. Thank you.’

They took a few sips and munched a biscuit or two while they chatted a little about Spain, until Elodie looked at Hogarth kindly and asked.

‘How are you getting on? Are you getting used to … me? I know it isn’t customary for a five-and-a-half-year-old to represent the household.’

‘True. And yes, it is a little strange at first, but yes, I am getting used to it.’

‘Perhaps you’d better meet Peter,’ Elodie suggested.

‘Peter. He’s 18. Is that right? I’d like that.’

‘Yes. Ready?’

‘Ready.’

Without another word, he appeared. Standing by the table, he reached out a hand.

‘Sir, welcome to our home.’ He rocked on his heels slightly.

‘Hello Peter. And please call me Mike. I’m not here in any official capacity, I assure you. And this is under the seal of the utmost confidence,’ Hogarth assured him.

‘Yes, Vee and Harry said so. We do appreciate your discretion.