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“A dog?”
Finn nods, the happy bearer of good news.
This place is looking up.
A little.
My brother helps me unpack and put away my clothes, and I stare at the giant bed. “I’m going to be afraid to sleep here,” I muse.
Finn shakes his head. “I’ll come sleep with you. Then we won’t be alone.”
I’m never alone. That’s the best thing about having a twin. I smile, and we find our way to the dining room together, because when we’re together we’re never alone, and because we aren’t supposed to be late for dinner.
It is here, seated around the biggest table that I’ve ever seen, that we meet our grandmother.
Eleanor Savage is seated at the head of the table, her hair pulled back severely from her face. She’s wearing pearls and a dress, and she doesn’t seem happy, even though she says she’s pleased to finally meet us. She emphasizes the finally, and glances at my mother as she says it.
My mother gulps but doesn’t reply. This interests me. My mother is scared of my grandmother. But then again, as I look at the severe old woman, I’m guessing that everyone is scared of my grandmother.
Eleanor looks at me.
“We’ve always kept a pair of Newfoundlands here on the Whitley estate. We’ve recently had our old dogs put down. You and your brother will choose a new pair. The neighbor’s bitch whelped.”
I have no idea what whelped means, and I thought bitch was a bad word. But I nod because she wants me to, because she acts like she’s bestowing an honor. She doesn’t say Welcome to Whitley, I’m your grandmother and I love you. Instead she allows us to pick out the new estate dogs.
I don’t say anything because I do want a dog, and I’m afraid if I ask questions she’ll change her mind.
Instead, I focus on my dinner, which is an odd thing called Steak and Kidney pie. I shove the internal organs around on my plate, but my mom catches my eye and raises a stern eyebrow. I reluctantly put a bite in my mouth. It tastes meaty, but the texture is rubbery and turns my stomach. I swallow it without chewing.
“Where is our cousin?” Finn asks abruptly, and I realize that I had forgotten about him, the boy we met last year. The boy with the dark eyes, so dark they’re almost black.
Dare.
My grandmother looks down her nose at us.
“Adair is eating in his father’s wing, although you should know that children aren’t allowed to ask questions here at Whitley.”
I gulp because this stern atmosphere is scary, and because Whitley must be enormous. It’s so big that we all have separate wings and rooms and suites. It’s like an island floating in the middle of England.
I am on edge because I can see that my grandmother doesn’t like Dare. It’s in her voice, dripping with resentment and distaste. I briefly wonder why, but then put it out of my mind as I make my way back to my giant bedroom. It’s not my business. He’s a step-cousin who I don’t even know. Like my father would say, it’s not my circus, not my monkeys.
In the morning, Sabine wakes me from my sleep with a gentle rap on the door.
“Come with me, child,” she says, her voice like a gnarled piece of driftwood. “We’ve got to go get the pups.”
Excitement leaps in my chest and I charge from the bed, pulling on clothes as I go. A dog. Dogs don’t judge you, they love you no matter what, and they never act like you’re crazy. I can hardly wait to get one of my own.
Finn and I chatter as we ride with Sabine in an old truck, down the road to a neighbor’s. A herd of fat fluffy black puppies surround us when we get out, and it isn’t long before I pick one with big sad eyes, and Finn picks one with a wriggly body and wagging tail.
“They look small now,” Sabine warns us. “But they’ll be bigger than you someday. They’ll have to be carefully trained to be obedient.”
“What should we name them?” Finn wonders aloud as he holds his squirming puppy on the way back to Whitley.
Sabine glances at us. “Their names will be Castor and Pollux. It is fitting.”
I find it interesting that she has already named them, but it doesn’t really matter. Because I have a soft puppy sleeping on my lap and that’s really all I ever wanted. I just didn’t realize that until now.
It isn’t until we’re back at Whitley and in the kitchen feeding our new pets when I think of our cousin.
