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“How do you know, Finn?” Maddie pushed, sitting down at the long oak table and resting her chin in the palms of her hand. Finn flicked the kettle on and pulled a pot from the cupboard above the hearth.
“Yes,” she said finally, placing some tea leaves into it and then adding the water. She assembled the tray with sugar and a jug of milk, and then carried it to the table. “Because my mother died.” She poured Maddie’s tea first, adding a liberal amount of milk and sugar. “It’s not at all the same as what you’re feeling. I never knew her, except from the stories my dad would tell. So I have only my imaginings and not my memories.” She sat down opposite the little girl and curled her hands around her mug.
“I guess I’m lucky, in a way. Having never met her, I don’t have any specific things to miss or regret.”
“But you never got to know her,” Maddie said with passionate empathy that was beyond her years. “I wouldn’t have missed out on my time with dad for anything.”
Finn nodded sagely. “Tell me about him. What did you like to do together?”
Maddie wrinkled her little nose. “Well, he was very busy and often very sick. Even now, when he’s so old, he sits … I mean he used to sit in his office until late at night. But he would let me go in and help him.”
“Did he? What kind of things would you do to help?” Finn asked, a smile playing at the corners of her lips.
“Oh, you know, type stuff for him and update the numbers in his phone. He was crap with technology.”
Finn refrained from reminding Maddie that crap was a grown up word. After all, she had no clue what rules had been placed on Maddie’s young shoulders, but she did know that the girl was far too fragile to handle any criticism at that time.
“That was very kind of you.”
“I loved doing it,” Maddie’s eyes were enormous in her face. So like Caradoc’s! Gower’s must have been the same. “And when my mother travels, which is a lot, dad would let me stay up as late as he did. I couldn’t though,” she shrugged. “He didn’t sleep much.” Like his son, Finn thought. She was amazed by how little sleep Caradoc was able to function on.
“Your dad sounds like he was a lot of fun,” Finn smiled.
“Yep.” Maddie lifted her tea and smelled it suspiciously. “Not like my mother.”
Finn was no psychologist, but she’d read about a million books, and she had a keen understanding of human emotions. In Finn’s opinion, it was natural for Maddie to want to push a remaining parent away having suffered the loss she had. “Well,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “Everyone is different.”
“But she never lets me do anything. When mother is around, I’m to go to bed early and eat only what she gives me. It’s sooo boring.”
Finn nodded, a serious expression on her face despite the way amusement was dancing inside of her. “Believe it or not, your mother has those rules because she loves you. You’ll understand one day.”
“I don’t want to.”
“No, I’m sure you don’t right now.” Finn felt a pang of sympathy for this woman she’d never met. Despite the strange impression she’d garnered that Elizabetta Moore was a vapid, superficial twit of a woman, she was still Maddie’s mum, and a bereaved widow. “Try to remember that your mum is very sad right now. She’ll need you to be with her.”
Maddie’s eyes met Finn’s and it was obvious that being needed by anyone had never even occurred to her. She sipped her tea contemplatively and quickly. Finn was pleased. Tea had always been her comfort drink; she had turned to it in any moment of worry, and many, many, many times in between.
“I’ve never been in this kitchen,” Maddie said after a moment.
“Haven’t you?” Finn frowned. She looked around the enormous space with a sense of awe. “If I grew up in this house, I would have discovered every single nook and cranny. What a beautiful home it is.”
“Yes,” Maddie nodded. “It’s sort of magical, isn’t it?”
“That’s exactly what it is!”
“Have you finished Matilda?”
Maddie nodded, her eyes wide. “Oh, I loved it, Finn. The moment Mrs Trunchbull was in the classroom and the chalk started to write … I got goose bumps.”
“Roald Dahl is a wonderful storyteller,” Finn agreed. “Did you start on any others of his?”
Maddie shook her head.
“Well then, let’s go and pick one out. For my part, I think The Twits might be another one you’ll adore.”
It was, once again, in the library that Caradoc found them.
His young half-sister kneeling down in the same black dress she’d worn to the funeral, and Seraphina, the angel from his bed beside her. She wore overalls that were strangely sexy, her long hair pulled into a bun that had come half loose. He stared at them for a moment and then expelled a long sigh.
