Page 11 of The Last De Loughrey Dynasty

“Jesse, don’t be so rude,” Maisie told him in a whisper before she put another spoon of sugar in her tea.

I offered her a tight smile. “It’s alright. My parents were simply interested in giving me a good education.”

They already thought I was suicidal. There was no need to give them more reason to try and avoid me.

Jesse grinned and pushed his glasses higher before eating another fry he’d stolen off Naomi’s plate. She slapped his hand away, but it didn’t stop him.

“Come on, you’re not just here for a good education. And if you want to hear my thoughts on the educational system here, I’d say it’s nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Good thing is, she didn’t ask you for your opinion,” Nathaniel muttered, and Jesse kicked him against the shin.

“At least I’m trying to have some small talk with her while you’re just staring at her like a creep. Be careful, or your girlfriend might get jealous,” he joked, earning a warning look. Maisie, sitting opposite him, chuckled and patted her boyfriend’s arm as she hooked hers with his.

She grinned with her eyes closed and laid her head against his shoulder. “I will not. I know my Nathaniel couldn’t be without me.”

He let her be. It was easy to tell she found comfort in touch, not only by how she’d sought his contact since I’d sat down, or yesterday, but also by the way she’d caressed my arms this morning and brushed through my hair, telling me how pretty it was. Nathaniel, next to her, let Maisie touch him without returning the gesture. All he did was admire the girl like she was his greatest treasure.

They were a strange combination. However, I once read a study by Francis Winch which concluded that it was complementarity that worked best in relationships. Perhaps it worked for them too.

I caught a glimpse of Archer looking at me while I analysed Maisie and Nathaniel and looked away.

“I’m paranoid, I feel like I’m being watched twenty-four-seven by ghosts, and I feel what they felt when they got brutally slaughtered.”

“Naomi,” Archer warned in a low voice, but she just smiled sweetly at me.

Was she making fun of me?

Did she somehow know why I was here?

Naomi turned to Archer, who sat next to the blurry window.

“I just don’t want her to feel so alone with her psychosis,” she answered innocently at his warning. Her elbows rested on the old wooden table, and her hands were crossed. She wore silk gloves that looked very elegant on her slim fingers. If I remembered correctly, Naomi had worn them yesterday too.

“We’re all somewhat psychotic, Doe. Don’t feel ashamed of admitting it.” Her brown eyes turned back to me, and yesterday I wasn’t in the right mind to realise how beautiful she actually was, other than the words leaving her mouth.

In fact, all of them were.

All of them fit this place perfectly.

The way they looked matched the old-fashioned feel of this place.

“I’d rather not talk about mypsychosis.” I emphasised the last word to match Naomi’s phrasing and not the headmaster’s suggestion to call it a challenge, which just felt wrong.

Naomi’s smile didn’t falter, but she had wanted me to answer, and that I hadn’t fallen into her trap made her visibly unhappy.

“Well, then keep up that mystery image of yours.”

Becoming friends with any of them wasn’t what I’d originally tried to do when I decided to have lunch with them. But the sliver of hope that I might find people to be comfortable with had been there. That now seemed unreachable.

“Where’s your family from?” Archer asked, and I was surprised that his voice sounded more relaxed than before.

“My mum grew up in Kent, while my father grew up in London. But our family home is in Sevenoaks, Kent,” I explained shortly, feeling a comforting warmth in my chest at the thought of home. If it weren’t for my parents, my home could have been magical. We lived in an old mansion that belonged to my family for decades, and as a child, I loved running through the gardens, imagining I’d catch fairies if I hid sugar near my windows for them to feast on at night.

“How come you were sent across the country to Aquila Hall when there are far better boarding schools near your home?”

If I was honest with myself, I had no reasonable answer to this question.

I lay down my fork and swallowed my food before I slowly answered, “My mother didn’t know what else to do with me any more. She felt helpless about my situation.”

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