Page 76 of A Good Heart is Hard to Find
‘She is, and now she’s an insuperable obstacle.’
‘You are the weirdest woman I’ve ever met,’ he stated, gazing at me with knit brows. ‘Poor Jason’strying to bite off more than he can chew.’
‘I wish you wouldn’t keep calling him “poor Jason” in that pitying way! He’s one of my oldest friends and I’m very fond of him. He just has this little mental kink about me in my vampire get-up which has temporarily clouded his judgement.’
‘I’m not surprised,’ he said enigmatically, and I stared at him doubtfully before deciding I didn’t want an explanation.
‘So, whatwasall that about with me the other night?’
‘Comfort, I think, and brandy. Brandy seems to be a family weakness. But you’re quite safe, because I’m not going to do it again.’
‘No?’
‘No. Though at least one good thing came out of that night: I knew Kedge Hall would provide the inspiration I needed to add an extra dimension to my new book, and it did!’
‘I just read one of your books,and I don’t believe anything good comes into it. How did Kedge Hall inspire you?’ he demanded suspiciously.
‘Oh – just as a bit of mock-Gothic background,’ I said with sudden vagueness, thinking that perhaps he wouldn’t like to know that I’d described the house pretty closely, besides inventing a permanent vampire family patriarch of dubious tastes and habits.
Could he sue me for that, whenthe book came out?
Unfortunately he seemed to be thinking along similar lines. ‘If you are using my house as a background don’t youthink you owe me something?’ he said, surprising me. ‘If you still refuse to help us out with the haunting, perhaps you’d like to come up to the Hall and give me some advice, writer to writer, instead?’
‘Advice?’
‘I’ve got the notes for the book, I’ve got an advanceto write it, now I have to deliver the goods and I don’t know how to put it together. I’m a novice, you’re a professional. You used me the other night for whatever reasons of your own, and now you’re using my home: so is an afternoon of your time too much to ask in return?’
Got you there, Cass.
‘I didn’t use …’ I began to protest, and then I thought: maybe I did?
‘Just a couple of hours tohelp you with your book?’ I asked suspiciously.
‘That’s all. I don’t know any other authors or I wouldn’t ask you. Just how to set it out, that sort of thing. I don’t really need a Ghost Writer, just a ghost writer.’
‘Was that a joke?’ I peered at him, but the moon was a little obscured and it was hard to tell. Mind you, with that face it would be hard to tell anyway.
‘I suppose I could,’ Iconceded reluctantly, since I had this hideous, innate sense of fair play, which was unfortunate since life didn’t.
‘And maybe while you’re at the Hall you can tell that mad brother of yours to keep his clothes on, keep out of my woods, and keep away from my sister!’ he said acerbically.
‘I think it’s love,’ I said idiotically. ‘It’s such a pleasure to see two people so happy!’
‘Love? He’snot even inhabiting the same space-time continuum half the bloody time! How can she have a relationship with someone like that?’
‘Why don’t you ask her, not me?’ I snapped, and walkedaway, leaving him there, although the effect of my sudden departure was rather ruined by my having to stop and disentangle my cloak from an encroaching briar.
As I was passing under Mrs Bridges’ window somethingnetlike dropped silently over my head. It was a veryGladiatormoment until I heard her giggle like a girl and whisper conspiratorially ‘Heaven’s cobwebs!’ before slamming down the sash.
You know, it was very comforting to have someone even stranger than me living next door. She was worth her weight in three-ply.
I poured a glass of red wine and sat down at my desk to work, but instead endedup turning over all the things Dante had said, especially the ones about using him as some kind of stud, and the more I thought the madder I got.
Eventually I phoned Jason (waking him up), and told him bluntly that I would have his baby, although declining his sleepy but enthusiastic offer to start right away.
Then I spent a sleepless couple of hours before phoning him again at dawn when sanityhad returned, together with the hellish sound of Birdsong’s screaming, to tell him I couldn’t possibly after all.
I thought the inside of my telephone had melted.
