Northanger Abbey. Val McDermidЧитать онлайн книгу.
‘I told your hopeless brother to go and look for you but he wouldn’t leave my side. Honestly, Cat, men are so lazy.’
‘It wouldn’t have done any good if I’d found Cat only to mislay you,’ James said in his defence.
Bella rolled her eyes. ‘Hopeless.’
Cat leaned back in her seat so she could include Ellie in the conversation. But her new friend was already on her feet. ‘I have to go,’ she said. ‘I promised my father I’d meet him in the supper room. It was lovely to meet you.’ And she bowed with curious formality before backing away and making for the exit.
‘Who on earth was that?’ Bella asked. ‘She acts like she’s in Pride and Prejudice.’
‘That’s Henry Tilney’s sister, Ellie.’ Cat stared after the disappearing figure. There was something about Ellie, something out of time and out of style. Like there would be if you were a two-hundred-year-old vampire, she thought with a mixture of dread and delight.
‘Is he here?’ Bella looked around eagerly. ‘Is he half as good looking as she is? Where is the all-conquering brother? Point him out to me, I’m totally dying to see him.’
‘What are you both on about?’ James asked.
‘Honestly, you men talk about women gossiping, but you’re just as bad. Actually, no, you’re worse. You’re like little old women, you put your heads together and gossip, gossip, gossip about cars and women and sport. Well, Jamie, this is our little secret and we’re not sharing.’ Bella prodded him in the chest to drive home her point.
James laughed. ‘You’re just trying to hide the fact that you’ve got nothing important to say.’
‘Cheeky boy,’ Bella complained. ‘Honestly, Cat, you’ve done an atrocious job of bringing up Jamie. He has no idea at all of how to treat a woman. You’d better stop eavesdropping, Master Jamie, or you might hear something you don’t want to.’
The banter continued between Jamie and Bella, freeing Cat from any responsibility to contribute. She was grateful that the subject of Henry had been sidetracked, though there was a tiny part of her that was disappointed by Bella’s swift loss of interest in a subject that was so dear to Cat’s heart. She might not want to discuss him, but she wanted to have it confirmed that he was worthy of discussion.
When the band struck up again, James was immediately on his feet, picking up Bella’s hand as he rose. ‘Come on, Bella, it’s a St Bernard’s Waltz. You like to waltz.’
Cat wondered how he could make so confident an assertion, considering how little he knew Bella. And how brief she assumed his own acquaintance with Scottish country dancing to be. However, her friend responded, ‘I don’t like to waltz, I love it. So dreamy. But my evil sisters will tease us if we dance together all night, Jamie.’
‘You’re confusing me with someone who gives a toss. They’re just jealous. I want to waltz with a beautiful woman, but I’ll make do with you, Bella.’ His smile was impish, his words free of sting.
‘You are so bad, Jamie. Will you be OK, Cat? I don’t know where my hopeless brother has got to …’ She looked around, distracted. ‘Oh, I’m sure he’ll be back in a minute.’ Without further pretence at reluctance, she followed James on to the dance floor and let him draw her close as the dance permitted.
Cat felt her shoulders slump in spite of her determination to remain straight-backed and cheerful in the face of her disappointment. Martha Thorpe leaned across and patted her arm. ‘He’ll be back soon, then you’ll be happy again. He’ll have you tripping the light fantastic again. What an adorable couple you make.’
It took her a moment to realise Martha was speaking of her son. ‘I’m fine as I am, thank you,’ she said.
‘Of course you are,’ Martha said condescendingly. ‘But you must feel deflated after enjoying John’s high spirits on the dance floor.’
Susie interrupted, saving Cat from having to find an anodyne response. ‘Did you see Henry?’
‘No, where is he?’
Susie looked around, puzzled. ‘He was with us just now, when you were talking to Bella and James. He said he was tired of lounging about and he wanted to dance. I thought he was coming over to ask you.’
Dismayed, Cat cast an eye over the dancers as they turned and glided past her. And there she saw Henry, smiling down at a frankly dumpy little woman whose dress didn’t suit her in the slightest.
Susie caught sight of him at the same moment. ‘Oh. He’s dancing with someone else.’ After a short silence, she added, ‘He really is a lovely young man.’
‘You’re so right,’ Martha chipped in complacently. ‘I shouldn’t say it about my own son, but there is not a more charming young man in the city, never mind in this room.’
Cat and Susie exchanged a look, both bursting to giggle at Martha’s misapprehension. But that was Cat’s last moment of levity for the evening. Before the dance was over, John Thorpe returned and dropped like a stone into the chair next to her. ‘Shocking hands I’ve just had to endure through there. I thought I might as well come back here and take you for another turn round the floor.’
‘That’s very kind of you. But I’ve danced enough for one evening. And my feet hurt from when you stood on them before.’
He looked dumbfounded. ‘I stood on your feet? I think it’s more like you misplaced your feet and put them where mine needed to be. Come on, let’s have another crack at it and see if you can’t manage it better this time.’
‘Honestly, I’m too tired.’
He gave a heavy, put-upon sigh. ‘OK, then let’s go walkabout and see who we can rip the piss out of.’
‘Really, I’m happy where I am. On you go, though. Don’t let me spoil your fun.’
He looked as if he was about to make another attempt, but just then his sister Jess came by and he snagged her arm. ‘Jess, let’s go and see who we can wind up. Come on, we’ll show them how to have a good time.’
For the rest of the evening, Cat skulked round the fringes of the fun. She moved between the ballroom and the supper room, trying to look purposeful. She even took a couple of selfies to post on her Facebook page so she could pretend to her sisters that she was having the time of her life.
Later, as the balmy night air filled her bedroom, she studied the photos more closely, the better to decide which to post. In the background of one, to her surprise and consternation, was the unmistakable figure of Henry Tilney, his dark inscrutable eyes fixed unswervingly on her.
Cat’s reaction to the photograph was not, as might be supposed, unmitigated pleasure. Instead, she was filled with an overwhelming desire to eat chocolate. Mr Allen came home towards midnight to find her working her way through the remains of a chocolate fudge cake from the fridge. ‘The raging munchies,’ he said, eyebrows raised, a smile twitching the corners of his mouth. ‘Tell me you’ve not been smoking dope, Cat.’
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