On one side of the sitting room there was a wall with just one door in it and no windows. He unlocked it and she followed. There was a small gap and then another door.
‘There’s more?’
‘No. This is my apartment, and we,’ he pushed the door open, ‘are in my study. Come on through.’
‘I never expected that.’
They made their way on to his balustraded terrace where a table was already laid with a coffee pot, two cups and saucers and a plate of delicious-looking pastries.
‘Help yourself,’ he said.
She poured the coffee, selected two pastries and tuckedin. It was the first time she hadn’t had to force herself to eat for weeks.
When she’d finished, he asked if she’d like to hear the story of the little apartment, he’d just shown her.
She nodded but thought of it more as a little house.
‘This palace is a labyrinth, like many of the others here, but it was some time before I discovered all its secrets. The door we just came through into my study had been bricked up, and for a long while I hadn’t the slightest idea.’
‘Why was it bricked up?’
‘Well, it could have once been a priest hole. But I think smugglers more likely. Contraband.’
‘How did you discover the doorway?’
‘A bird had got in. I heard the awful flapping noises. As you know the palace is built into the exterior walls of Mdina and of course, from the distance, I could see the little balcony, but assumed it was part of the building next door but when I asked, he said there was no sign of a trapped bird in his place.’
‘How thrilling. Like one of those dreams when your house has entire wings you never knew about and you wake up excited and it’s so disappointing when you realise it’s not true.’
‘I’d say those dreams are hinting at something.’
‘What?’
‘Perhaps that there’s more to you than you currently understand and whole possibilities you’ve never even imagined.’
She smiled. ‘Hope you’re right … Please go on.’
‘Well, I quickly hired an architect who worked out thatthere was most probably a connection via my study. You should have seen the place when the builder broke through. Yeasty. Mouldy.’
‘So when did you restore the apartment?’
‘Oh, not for ages. But then I had the strangest feeling that it would be needed.’
‘Really? By whom?’ she asked and noticed he was staring intently at her.
‘Well as it turns out, you, my dear. You.’
She blinked rapidly, not understanding.
‘I can see that staying in Bobby’s apartment isn’t ideal for you. The hidden little upside-down house in the palace walls is empty. If you like it.’
‘I love it,’ she said, astonished. ‘But I can’t stay here. I need to work, earn a living.’
He held up one finger. ‘Ah well, I have thought of that too. Throughout my life I’ve written journals and, believe it or not, poetry. And now a British publisher is going to publish my memoirs.’
‘So, not only an artist.’
‘Writing was my first love, but I failed to make any money. Besides, painting came more easily, although once I married money was no longer an issue.’
