Finding Alex - 8. Chapter 8

Sacha was late for dinner. It was quarter past eight, and he was panicking. He couldn’t remember where the dining room was, and got it wrong a couple of times.

On the third attempt, he found himself in the kitchen. Just like everywhere else, it was enormous, and very modern, with an island in the middle. The work surfaces and floor were granite, and Sacha found the natural stone comforting.

“Well, hello there,” Emma said, looking up from the saucepan she was stirring. “I thought you’d be in with Lacey and Mr Prosser. Aren’t you hungry?”

Sacha considered, inhaling a nose-full of delicious smell. Oh yes; he was hungry. “Yes, very.”

“Well, off you go. What are you waiting for?”

Blushing furiously, Sacha whispered. “I forgot where the dining room is.”

Emma’s face softened, “It is a bit of a rabbit warren if you’re not used to it. I don’t suppose the house you lived in was much like this one.”

Sacha shook his head. “Not at all. My room is almost as big as the whole house, the downstairs at least. I….” Dare he? Dare he tell her the truth; how he was really feeling? It’s not as if she was one of the family. But she might tell them and if she told them they might be angry that he’d spoken to her. Better not. “I’m very grateful. It’s just…big.”

“That it is. You’ll get used to it in no time. Don’t be afraid to explore. There are all kinds of nooks and crannies.”

“Yeah.”

“The dining room’s next door, honey. Go out the door and turn right, then through the next door.”

“Thank you.”

The dining room was as grand as the rest of the house, with panelled walls painted white, high ceilings and chandeliers. The table dominated the room, running down the centre with space for a lot of people. The table back at the farm had been big. It could seat ten at a pinch. This one was surely double the length.

Lacey and Frank were sitting right at the other end, Frank at the head and Lacey to one side. They both looked up. “There you are,” Lacey said. “I was about to come looking for you. I thought you might have got lost.”

“I did. I ended up in the kitchen. The…um…lady, told me where to go.”

“Emma? She’s an angel. Come sit down. We were waiting for you so we haven’t started yet.”

“I’m sorry. You didn’t have to wait for me.”

“Not a problem.” Frank said as Sacha sat down, opposite Lacey.

“I see you took my suggestion to have a bath. Or rather, I smell it.” Lacey giggled.

“You smell me? I smell?” Sacha almost choked on the words. He was horrified, but relaxed at Lacey’s next words. She meant in a good way.

“Minty,” Lacey said. “I like your hair like that. Can you show me how to do it?”

“Do what? Braid your hair? But it’s easy.” Sacha’s fingers unconsciously flew up and down his braid, brushing lightly, enjoying the bumpy sensation.

“It may be for you but I’ve never got the hang of it. My braids are always so messy.”

“Your hair’s all different lengths, so you won’t be able to do a smooth braid.”

“Humph. You could still try.”

“Of course, I’ll try, if you want to.” Sacha got to his feet.

“Not now,” Lacey said laughing. “Maybe after dinner.”

“Oh, okay,” Sacha said, bowing his head over his plate.

“I told you I’d slap you if you said that again.”

Sacha’s head snapped up and his eyes widened. “I’m teasing,” Lacey said. “You’re going to have to get used to that pretty quick.”

“I do?” Sacha trembled. Here was another thing he had to try to remember. How was he going to learn to tell when Lacey was teasing? And what if he got it wrong and laughed at her when she wasn’t teasing? That would be even worse.

“Stop it, Lacey,” Frank rumbled with his deep voice. “Sacha’s been through enough lately, without having to put up with your teasing. Don’t forget, he isn’t used to being in a family, at least not one like ours. He’s not used to people saying things they don’t mean.”

“Sorry, Sacha,” Lacey said, sounding unrepentant. “I’ll try to be good.”

“Don’t hold your breath, Sacha,” Frank said, reaching for a bread roll from the little mound in a basket at the centre of the table. It smelled amazing when Frank broke it in two and Sacha’s mouth began to water. He felt as if he hadn’t eaten in days.

“Go ahead,” Frank said, nodding toward the bowl. “We don’t stand on ceremony here. Help yourself to anything you want.”

Sacha swallowed, and his eyes flicked from Frank to the bread. Slowly, half expecting to be stopped, Sacha reached out and picked up a bread roll. It was warm. Sacha sniffed it and closed his eyes with a sigh. It smelled so good, better than any bread he’d ever had. Without opening his eyes, he broke it and took a nibble. “Mmm.”

“That good? Why not try some butter?”

Sacha’s eyes snapped open and he blushed deeply. “I…I’m sorry. I just…. I haven’t….”

“Lacey, stop teasing the poor boy. How are you settling in, Sacha? Is your room okay?”

“Yes thank you. I mean, the room’s wonderful, sir.”

“There’s no need to call me sir, Sacha. No one else does.”

“He did ask once,” Lacey said, “but no one bothered, so he dropped it.”

“No one bothered?” Sacha stared at Frank. “They disobeyed you?”

“They disobey me all the time,” Frank said, with a gentle smile. “Nothing bad happens when they do, although they know how far to push it. I’m a big pussy cat, but all cats have claws.”

“Did you just say you’re a pussy?” Lacey sniggered behind her hand and Sacha gasped. What would Frank do?

“Lacey, please.” Frank sighed and rolled his eyes, but he seemed to me smiling.

Sacha watched the banter between father and daughter, filled with confusion. How could Lacey speak to her father like that, and why did he allow it? He was so confused his hand shook as he tore the bread into crumbs.

“Sacha,” Frank said, “are you alright? Can I do anything?”

“I…. No. I just…. I don’t understand.”

“What don’t you understand?” Frank frowned, and Sacha trembled on the inside, worried he was doing something that angered or upset Frank.

“Everything. Why…? Why does she say such bad things, and why do you let her?”

“It’s the way things are between us. Lacey is a tease, simple as. I suppose she’s been indulged too much, as she’s the only girl. She’s a complete spoiled brat, but we love her.”

“Hey. I’m not a spoiled brat.”

And they were off again. Sacha put head down and nibbled the bread. Fortunately, they were interrupted by Emma with food.

The rest of the meal passed in pretty much the same vein, with Frank and Lacey bantering and Sacha keeping his head low, joining in only when directly addressed.

At the end, Sacha sat quietly, head bowed over his plate. He felt odd. He’d eaten more and better than he ever had, and part of him felt sleepy and comfortable. The rest of him felt scared and confused. Would he ever get to grips with this family thing?

“You’ve been very quiet, Sacha. Is everything alright?”

“I’m sorry.” Sacha’s automatic pilot said.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. You can be as quiet or loud as you like. Everyone tends to be quiet when Lacey’s around. No one else gets a chance.”

Lacey sighed and rolled her eyes, but not before Sacha caught her and Frank exchanging a look, which he knew was about him. He couldn’t read what it was. What were they thinking? What were they planning?

“Today’s been a bit too much for you, hasn’t it? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you on your own up there. I should have shown you some quiet spots where you could relax.”

“I…. It was okay. I had a bath.”

“What do you think of the bathroom? We had it put in years ago, but you’re the first to use it.”

“F…first? I…. I’ll try not to…. I mean to….”

“Relax, Sacha. The bathroom’s yours now. If you break something we’ll get it fixed. If you run out of something we’ll get more. Please don’t stress over things like that. It’s all yours to do what you want with. You can’t get it wrong.”

“I-I splashed water on the floor.”

“We can get Lucy up there to clean it if you like.”

“I…wiped it with a towel.” Sacha took a breath and gathered his courage. “I made it dirty. It was so white, but I couldn’t think of anything else to do. I was afraid the water would come through the ceiling and it would— I’m sorry.”

Sacha turned his face away so he wouldn’t see the anger and disappointment on his father’s face.

“Look at me, Sacha,” Frank ordered and he quickly obeyed. “I don’t know what more I can say to you to make you see. I suppose you need time to get used to the idea, and it will come. There’s nothing you can do here that will make me angry, unless you deliberately try to damage the house or harm someone in it. You’re my son. I love you. This is your home. Nothing you say or do will change that. It’s okay.”

Sacha chewed nervously on the end of his braid, wondering. Maybe he meant it. Maybe it wasn’t all a set up. Maybe it wouldn’t come crashing down the first time he screwed up. “You’re not mad at me?”

“For a drop of water and a dirty towel?” Sacha nodded. “No, Sacha. Not at all. If you put the towel outside your door, the maid will collect it when she’s doing the rounds and have it laundered. The same goes with clothes and bedding. Usually the maid just goes into our rooms and changes whatever needs changing but I haven’t given them the key to yours. I thought it would make it easier for you if you had absolute privacy. We’re used to it but you’re not. I hope you can see that we’re trying our best to make you as comfortable and secure as possible. This is your home Sacha and we want you to feel at home in it.”

“It’s all…. It’s really…big.”

“Yes, it is big. I have to admit I felt a little like you do when I first came here. At that time it belonged to Mary – your mother’s – parents. I felt like a fish out of water. My family aren’t poor. They live a comfortable enough life, but this—” Frank spread his arms. Sacha smiled. He knew exactly what Frank meant.

“Not long after we got married, Mary’s grandparents were killed in a car accident. Their house was left to Mary’s parents and, when they moved, they signed this house over to her. It didn’t take her long to make it a home. By then we already had two children and it’s impossible to live in a house full of children and it not be a home.”

“There aren’t any children here now.”

“Oh, there will be. James is coming home in a couple of days, and whenever he’s around the house is always full of kids, making a noise and driving the staff insane. Enjoy the peace while you can.”

Lacey frowned. “Dad, James is almost sixteen. Don’t call him a kid or he’ll get upset.”

“He’ll get over it.”

Lacey rolled her eyes. “Sometimes I think you deliberately try to wind him up.”

“Sometimes I do.”

“Then stop it. He’s already angry with you, and with Sacha. Don’t make it worse or he’ll take it out on Sacha. You know he will.”

“Not if he knows what’s good for him, he won’t. He’s almost a man and it’s time he started behaving like one. I’m fed up with all this nonsense about him being abandoned. Being sent to one of the best boarding schools in the country is hardly being abandoned. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to get a place? Besides, he loves it there.”

“Maybe he does and maybe he doesn’t, but he still feels you abandoned him and he still blames Sacha for it. There’s no point saying he should man up and get over it because you know as well as I do it’s not as simple as that. You and him can go at it as much as you like. Frankly, I don’t care. But I know James, and he won’t do that. He’ll be nice as pie to you, then he’ll go for Sacha, and Sacha isn’t going to be able to handle it.”

“James will do as he’s told, and if I have the slightest concern about how he’s treating Sacha I’ll stamp it out straight away.”

“Father,” Lacey said, “sometimes you can be such a stupid, blind, idiot. Come on, Sacha, let me show you the terrace. I think you’ll like it a lot.”

Wide eyed, Sacha looked at Frank, waiting for permission to leave the table. Frank wasn’t even looking at him; he was glaring at Lacey.

“Sacha, what are you waiting for? Come on.”

Sacha glanced nervously between Frank and Lacey. Frank seemed to be absolutely furious, and Sacha was scared to ask for permission. Maybe this was a test. Maybe they were trying to see how obedient he was. If he asked for permission, would Frank turn his blazing eyes on him, and what punishment would he have? Back home it was a cardinal sin to walk away from the table without permission, especially when Ryland was there. The last time Sacha had done so – and he’d had good reason, because he was going to be sick – he hadn’t been allowed to come out of the cellar room for a week, other than to work, and he was only allowed to eat whatever left-overs the others were permitted to bring him.

“Sacha, what’s the matter with you?” Lacey said, sounding irritated. “I thought you wanted to see the terrace room. It’s really nice in there, peaceful. Isn’t that what you need right now, some peace and quiet?” Lacey glared at Frank, making a point, and Sacha quivered inside. This was getting worse all the time. Lacey was getting mad at him, and Frank was still scowling, and he had no idea what to do. Well, he couldn’t just sit here.

Taking his courage in his two hands, Sacha nodded. “Yes, I’d like to see it.”

“Well, come on then.”

Sacha looked to Frank for permission, but Frank was still glaring at Lacey, and didn’t even glance at him.

“Sacha, what’s wrong?”

Finally, Frank looked at him. He didn’t look mad anymore, only surprised. “Is everything okay, Sacha? Why aren’t you going with Lacey? Is something wrong? Do you need something?”

He sounded so nice, so…safe. Maybe he wasn’t testing him. He’d been told he was allowed to ask for things so maybe…. “Can I…? Can I have permission to leave please?” Despite himself, Sacha winced in anticipation, and cringed when a look of shock and dismay passed over Frank’s face.

“I’m so sorry, Sacha, I didn’t think. It’s been a long time since any of my kids have waited for permission to leave the table. Of course you can have it. Go with Lacey. Have a good time. I’ll see you at breakfast.”

Frank’s voice was so warm, it made Sacha smile, but when he looked over his shoulder as he followed Lacey through the door, Frank was frowning and that made him decidedly nervous.

“You should have said, silly,” Lacey said to him as she opened the door to the next room. “Why did you just sit there and wait?”

“I…. Because I thought…. Back home it wasn’t allowed.”

“What? Not even to ask?”

Sacha shook his head. “No. He told us when we could leave. It was up to him.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize. I’m sorry.” Lacey looked sorry. She also looked sad. Sacha wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. She must have seen his anxiety because she pulled him into one of her sudden and unexpected hugs. “You poor thing. We’ve got a lot to learn about each other, honey. The first thing you have to learn is that if something’s wrong, or if you’re scared or confused about something, you must tell us or we won’t know. You’ll never, ever get into trouble for asking.”

“Really?”

Lacey pulled back so she could meet his eyes. “Absolutely. I promise.”

Sacha bit his lip and nodded. “I’ll try to remember.”

Lacey gave him the strangest look, then smiled and took his hand, drawing him further into the room.

It was dark and impossible to see anything inside the room. Sacha got the sense of size, although maybe not as big as other rooms he’d been into. He could smell flowers. Lacey swore. She seemed to be looking for something. Then the light snapped on. It was a lamp so it was diffuse, making the room look smaller and cosier. Cosy, that was definitely the word he would use to describe the room. It wasn’t as small as he thought – about the same size as the dining room, but it was full of things. Most of it was furniture – mis-matched chairs and sofas, some seemingly made of wicker, and all over-stuffed and comfortable looking. There were also lots of cushions in different colours and designs. All in all, it reminded Sacha of an antique shop he’d gone into once with Ryland, except the shop was musty and smelled odd. This room was light and airy and smelled of flowers and lavender furniture polish.

“I’m sorry about the mess. Matt must have brought the furniture in from outside when the rain started. Some of this stuff is usually outside on the terrace.”

Moving skilfully through the clutter, Lacey made it to the far side of the room and turned on another light. This one was outside, and it lit up a rainy, wind-swept patio.

“Oh bugger, it’s raining,” Lacey said, pressing her face to the glass. “I was hoping to take you out there.”

Curious, Sacha picked his way across the room and peeped out into the rainy night. Lacey put on more lights and a scene of magic and wonder appeared before Sacha’s eyes. The terrace was floored in warm terracotta tiles, about fifty feet wide and stretching back toward the dining room and kitchen.

“It goes from the kitchen garden, all the way to the end of the house. You can get onto it from other rooms but, when the weather’s okay we put the furniture outside and the windows slide open. It feels like the room just carries on outside. You can smell the herbs from the kitchen garden and the rose bushes. It’s so beautiful. You’ll see when the weather improves.”

“Can I go outside?” With his nose pressed against the glass, watching the rain drive across the bare tiles, Sacha could see glimpses of things, white ghosts looming in the rain. He badly wanted to see what they were.

“You’ll get soaking wet.”

“I don’t melt in rain.”

“At least wait until I get you a coat.”

“But I can go out?”

“Of course you can.”

Not waiting for a coat – or for Lacey to change her mind, Sacha located the clip and slid the window open. Wind-lashed rain reached into the room and pulled Sacha out into its midst. Allowing himself to be buffeted, he twirled as he wandered across the tiles to find that some of the ghosts he had seen were enormous white tubs, containing neatly trimmed bushes. Just beyond, ornate balustrades marked the end of the terrace.

Ignoring Lacey’s calls, Sacha followed the balustrade, dodging the trees, until he came to a white painted, cast iron, folding screen. Dancing back the other way, he found another one. The screen had an arch in it and he went through, in the mood to explore. There was something about the rain that seemed to close him in, make the world smaller and Sacha feel safer.

This must be the kitchen garden. He could see Emma moving about behind the window. From the light that spilled out through it, he could see neat beds which presumably contained herbs. There were paths between them but Sacha couldn’t see them in the rain. He contented himself with standing still and breathing in the smells, which were heavenly.

“Sacha, you’re going to catch your death. Come inside.” Lacey threw a thick coat over his shoulders and he realized he was cold. Clutching the warm cloth around him he turned and smiled into her concerned face.

“It’s beautiful.”

“It is, but you won’t be seeing much of it if you’re in bed. Carry on this way and you’ll be getting sick again. Come inside for goodness sake.”

With a sigh, Sacha allowed Lacey to tow him back into the terrace room. She closed the windows and the night was shut out. Sacha stared through the glass, feeling strangely melancholy. He saw the ghost of a boy gazing back. The ghost boy looked sad.

“You should go up and have a bath,” Lacey said, firmly. “A shower at least – to warm up.”

“Okay.”

“Are you going to come down afterwards, or would you like some time to yourself in your room?”

“Can I stay in my room? I’m very tired.”

“Of course you can.” Lacey pulled him close and kissed his cheek. “Sleep well.”

“Lacey, can…um…? Could you come up and…well…. It’s lonely up there.”

“Go take a bath. I’ll be up in an hour.”