instant her face lit up and a dimple appeared in her left cheek. âHello, you again. How are you getting on?â She looked away shyly and dug her hands into the pockets of her apron. âHowâs it going?â
âItâs fine. Great. I love it.â
âGood.â She smiled and the dimple appeared again. âYouâre brave. Iâd hate it â not the spitfyres, but everything else . . . How about Al? Heâs a good man, donât be put off by his gloominess.â
âCool. Heâs cool. He sent me to bring this,â Stormy said, lifting the cake up a little.
âReally? I thought you must just like carrying it about,â Maud said with a giggle.
Stormy reddened. âNo, I ââ
âDid you cook it?â
âOh no, I couldnât . . . well, I probably could because I do know how, but weâre not allowed to, down in Ottoâs kitchen.â
âI see,â Maud said sternly. âBut do you know how to
eat
cake?â
âOf course I do. Oh . . .â
She was teasing him and he couldnât look at her. He let his gaze wander instead down the brightly lit corridor beyond. There were paintings on the red walls and glass chandeliers, mirrors and ornate gold tables. Heâd never seen anything like it, or even dreamed such things could exist.
âHey! Mind the cake!â Maud held out her hands. âYouâd better give that to me before you drop it.â
But before Stormy could pass it to her, a girl strode down the corridor towards them. She moved with the force of a hot wind. Her eyes were cold. She was beautifully dressed in a yellow satin skirt and a white blouse. He felt his knees give a little; Araminta. The girl whoâd crashed her spitfyre.
She shoved Maud aside carelessly. âWhoâs this? Who are you talking to, Maud?â
âHeâs the new boy to help Al. Heâs ââ Maud began.
âI think he can speak, canât he?â Araminta stared down at Stormy scornfully. She obviously did not recognise him at all. âYou can speak, canât you? Well, canât you?â
He was disappointed that she didnât remember him, but it was also dawning on him that she wasnât just a sky-rider, she was important. She lived in the Directorâs house.
âI help in the servery, but really Iâm to help the spitfyre keeper with the flying horses,â he exaggerated. Why had he done that? She wasnât interested in him anyway.
âWhat are you doing here, then?â
âDelivering Ottoâs cake,â he said, showing her the cake. âIâve brought a cake. Itâs a cake for the Director. Itâs from Otto.â Now he was talking rubbish.
Araminta tossed her head so her long black plait flicked over her shoulder. She was staring at him with the same oddly disturbing look that Mrs Cathcart had given him when she had dressed him in his new work clothes â as if he was something tasty to eat. Or maybe she
did
remember him?
âFollow me. Bring the cake,â she said.
Stormy glanced nervously at Maud, sure he shouldnât be going inside, but she had taken a duster from her apron pocket and was rubbing furiously at the brass fingerplate. He stepped into the hall.
âDonât bring the cake! Give it to the maid!â
He wished sheâd make her mind up who was to bring what. Quickly he passed the cake to Maud and followed Araminta, entranced by the glossy rope of dark hair swinging from side to side across her back. The tiny fraction of her face he could see showed her skin was as smooth and pale as a porcelain doll.
âThis is the Directorâs study,â Araminta said, leading him into a room. âYou must never, never come in here.â
Stormy began to back out.
âWhat are you doing? Come in!â she snapped.
He went in and stood beside a round table in the centre of the room. There were books on it, a decanter of
Theodore Taylor
Tamara Lejeune
Annmarie McKenna
Bette Adriaanse
Catherine Hart
Blake Pierce
Jon Ronson
Michael Jecks
Bruce Hale
L. Ron Hubbard