The Forget-Me-Not Sonata(74)

‘Lovely.’

‘Let’s all go into the kitchen then I can get you something to drink. I have a large chicken for lunch. I hope you like chicken, Panazel killed it this morning.’

‘What, really killed a chicken?’ Alicia asked, skipping after her up the corridor.

‘Well, I do hope so, otherwise it’ll jump out of the oven and run away.’

‘What a funny name,’ said Leonora.

‘Panazel?’

‘Yes.’

‘Gypsies always have funny names,’ said Cicely, entering the kitchen and switching on the light. ‘Panazel has a little boy about your age,’ she added frowning. ‘But he’s a rather unpleasant little boy.’

‘What’s his name?’ Leonora asked, patting one of the Alsatians.

‘Florien.’

‘That’s a nice name,’ she said and smiled.

‘Far too nice for him, if you ask me.’

‘Do they live in caravans like in the storybooks?’ Alicia asked, pulling herself up onto one of the stools that stood near the Aga.

‘They are traditional Romany gypsies, so they do. Beautiful, brightly coloured caravans with pretty piebald ponies. Don’t ask me how they wash, though. They look pretty clean and don’t smell, which is a blessing, don’t you think? Nowadays you get horrid people in vans who sit on your land and refuse to get off, leaving litter all over the place. They do smell. Very unpleasant. I let Panazel and his family sit on my land in exchange for some gardening . . .’

‘And chicken killing,’ Alicia added with a grin.

‘And chicken killing,’ repeated Cicely, pulling some glasses out of the cupboard. In tune with the rest of the cluttered kitchen each glass was different and one was chipped.

‘I’d hate to see a chicken being killed,’ said Leonora, wincing at the thought and looking to her mother for encouragement.

‘Oh, I’d love to,’ Alicia cried. ‘Can I?’

‘Really, Alicia, I don’t think you would,’ interrupted Audrey, wondering where her daughter’s fascination with death came from.

‘I’m sure Panazel will be delighted with the company. You can help him sweep the leaves off the lawn as well if you’re feeling energetic.’

Alicia screwed up her nose. ‘I’ll be exhausted after killing a chicken, I doubt I’ll have the energy.’

Cicely laughed and poured iced lemon into the glasses.

‘Can we see the gypsies after lunch?’ Leonora asked. ‘I’ve never seen a real gypsy.’

‘Of course you can.’

‘Does Panazel have a wife?’ Audrey asked, watching the dogs begin to circle the kitchen like hungry sharks.

‘Yes, she’s called Masha and she cooks the most delicious fruit cakes. I’ll bring one out for tea because Marcel loves them as well.’ She paused and looked into the half-distance with misty eyes. ‘J’adore les gateaux, mon amour,’ she muttered to herself in a very bad French accent.

‘I thought gypsies were meant to have hundreds of children,’ said Audrey, taking the glass of iced lemon that Cicely offered her when she focused once again.

‘They have an elder daughter called Ravena who insists on reading people’s fortunes. She says she inherited the gift from her grandmother, but they all say that, don’t they?’ Cicely fell into the armchair and sipped from her glass.

‘Has she ever read yours?’ Alicia asked.

‘Yes, lots of times and she’s never got anything right. Still, I pay her, poor thing, she has to live. She washes up from time to time, but she frightens the dogs so I don’t like to have her in the house much.’

‘They look like they’re hungry,’ said Leonora, patting one of the Alsatians that nudged his nose against her elbow.

‘What do they eat?’ Alicia asked. ‘They must eat a lot.’

‘They do. I know, why don’t you two help me feed them. After all, you’d better get used to it, it’ll be one of your chores. You must pay your way the same as the gypsies.’ She then smiled at them broadly and Audrey felt her heart flip over. When Cicely smiled like that she enchanted, just like Louis.

While Cicely and the twins filled eight large metal bowls with dog food, chattering happily as if they had known each other all their lives, Audrey sat and watched Cicely’s face, more beautiful than that of either of her brothers. Her eyes were the same blue but they were set wide apart and slanted like a cat’s. Her nose was long and straight like Cecil’s but her mouth was the same as Louis’, large and sensual and full of expression. When Marcel entered the kitchen Audrey was left in no doubt about the nature of their relationship for her lips curled up at the corners in the same way that Louis’ had when he had first smiled at her.