‘Wyn?’
I met her suspicion with feigned confusion but it was all too obvious from the look on her face that she didn’t approve, even without knowing whether or not there was anything to approve of.
‘I don’t really know,’ I said, all innocence. ‘We only spoke for a minute. He’s just some boy, I guess.’
‘Perhaps a little old to be considered a boy?’
I grabbed my long brown hair in my hand and wrapped it round on itself in a loose topknot, dressing up my indifferent shrug. ‘I would guess we’re about the same age. He mentioned something about applying to college next year so that would make him seventeen-ish, right?’
‘Seventeen-ish. And which college is it he’s applying to?’
‘SCAD. He wants to study photography. He’s from the mountains near Asheville in North Carolina but he’s staying in Savannah to take summer school classes.’
Catherine raised one perfect eyebrow and I sucked in my cheeks as I realized my error.
‘Well, you certainly managed to find out an awful lot about him in one minute.’
‘I’m a good listener,’ I muttered, letting my hair back down.
‘Honey, I know you’re not a child,’ she said, her tone gentle but firm. ‘You’re a smart girl and clearly you’ve managed quite nicely without me until now but I do have certain rules when it comes to dating.’
‘No one’s dating,’ I replied quickly, suddenly hot again. ‘Who said anything about dating?’
‘In any case,’ she went on, ignoring my panic, ‘I do not believe it’s appropriate for you to date until you are seventeen. That was the rule for me, it was the rule for Ashley, and I would ask you to abide by it also.’
‘Was it the rule for my dad?’
This time she raised both eyebrows.
‘Some things are different for boys.’
Wow. It was a long time since I’d heard that one.
‘I don’t think it’s too much to ask.’ Catherine peered at herself in the mirror and dabbed at an invisible blemish on herperfect face. ‘Your birthday is next month. Is it really too long to wait?’
‘Which is why it feels like a weird rule,’ I countered, catching sight of my own reflection and wiping away a black smudge. My good old Maybelline mascara was not up to the challenge of this humidity. ‘It’s not as though I’ll be that much more mature than I am now. I mean, how much can a person change in four weeks?’
‘A very good question,’ Catherine replied, gazing at me with consideration. ‘Now, I think this would be the perfect time for a tour of the house, don’t you?’
‘As good a time as any?’
I was confused. Had I won that one or did we call it a draw?
Catherine didn’t seem confused at all.
‘How wonderful to be in agreement,’ she said but I couldn’t tell if she was talking about the tour or the dating. She ran her hand lovingly over the wooden banister of the staircase, then gave it a tap. ‘Let’s begin.’
Bell House was a labyrinth. The tour moved through the foyer and the parlour, before leading us around the staircase to visit the formal dining room, a less formal breakfast room, the study, and finally an enormous kitchen that took up the entire back half of the house with its huge open windows and endless cabinets and cupboards. The windows looked onto a beautiful garden, high walls protecting it from the outside world, and so green and full of life: the only dark spot in the entire yard was Ashley, who glared at us from one of the flowerbeds.
‘She doesn’t like to be interrupted while she’s working. Or any other time,’ Catherine explained, giving her daughter a little wave. It was not returned.
‘That’s the pantry, then there’s a second powder room through to the right, and downstairs on the garden level we have threeguestrooms and three bathrooms.’ My grandmother opened a door off the downstairs hallway to reveal a narrow, dimly lit staircase. ‘I keep them closed up. It’s been a while since we had guests and it really is a pain to keep the dust out when people are coming and going all the time.’
‘Couldn’t you use the rooms for something else?’ I suggested. ‘Like a gym?’
Catherine laughed for a moment, only stopping when she realized I wasn’t joking. From the look on her face, you’d have thought I’d suggested we open a slaughter house down there.
‘Oh, honey, aren’t you just the funniest little thing,’ she replied, patting my hand. ‘I don’t think that would be very fitting for an abode of Bell House’s stature. All that sweating and grunting? Besides, you never know when unexpected guests might arrive. It wouldn’t do to have nowhere for them to stay, now would it? Before I renovated, these were the servants’ quarters.’
