Page 26 of Hoodoo House
Henry nodded. “Okay, but make it quick. The other things I want to show you are way more interesting.”
Chapter Ten
Declan took a sip of his tea.
“Henry must be quite a handful,” he said. “You said he was your ward. Are you two related in any way?”
Mrs Cameron retrieved a kettle and added more hot water to the teapot on the kitchen table. “No, but his grandmother was a good friend of mine.”
“How did he wind up here?”
She stared hard at him, then took a sip of her tea. “Do you have anyone in your life that you would do anything for?”
Declan thought about Charlie and said, “Yes. I do.”
“Well, I felt that way about Henry’s grandmother Rachael. There’s no shame in telling you now that we were more than friends when we were younger. But then things changed.”
“What things?” Declan asked.
“She wanted children, and we couldn’t do that together in those days. She got married and so did I.”
“Is Mr Cameron still alive?”
“He died…must be twenty years ago. And Rachael’s husband is dead too. He was a mean man. The only good thing to come out of their marriage was a child late in her life, Henry’s mother. I’ll be truthful, when he passed away, I didn’t feel any sorrow.”
Declan continued, “So what happened to Henry’s parents?”
“They were killed in a car accident when Henry was four. Rachael took in the boy, but her health declined a few years after. And that’s when she came to me to ask if I would look after him. He was nine at the time.”
“And the foundation was all right with him staying here?” Declan asked.
“I made my case. I cover his expenses and the foundation allows him to live here as long as he stays out of the writer’s hair.”
“He seems like a bright kid.”
Mrs Cameron smiled. “He is, and he’s the best thing about Hoodoo House.”
Her careworn face suggested she’d been through a lot in her life. To Declan, she looked like a tough old bird and probably wouldn’t be offended if he’d said so.
“What are you grinning at?” she asked, with a perplexed look.
“I was looking at you and thinking how much you remind me of my stepmother.”
“A stepmother? Do I look that evil?”
“No, and neither does she. I’d say forceful was a better description of her.”
She sat back down. “I hope you don’t think it rude that I served your tea in a mug. Someone in the house broke all of the teacups.”
“No problem. Teacups don’t fit well in these anyway,” Declan said, holding up his large, rough hands.
She narrowed her lips and nodded. “Looks like those hands have seen some action.”
“This whole body’s seen more than what’s good for it,” he replied.
“I know that feeling,” she said, rolling up her sleeve and showing off a ten-centimetre scar that ran up her forearm.
Declan detected the slightest of smiles on her face. “Ouch. That must have hurt.”
