neat single entry hole for me.
I put the gun back where I found it and checked out what other mischief I could get into. I had already explored the house, a four-bedroomed, three-receptioned square box of a building. Apart from the study, I had found little of interest, so it was to the study I was drawn, with its shelves of pamphlets, books, and publications and its variety of interesting artefacts. I recognised one or two from The Golden Lion , the astrolabe especially. I dawdled around the room, picking up anything and everything that caught my attention, trailing my fingers across the spines of the books, feeling their leather smoothness interrupted by the embossing on the titles.
The desk was a clutter of papers , all with unrecognisable symbols and mathematical formulae. Instinct told me it was probably Wilfred’s work. I picked up a sheet and examined it, but it made no sense whatsoever, so I glanced at several others, all with the same result.
‘What are you doing?’
I jumped. ‘Oh, hi. You startled me.’
‘I said, what are you doing?’
‘Trying to decipher these,’ I held up a sheet of paper.
‘Why? What business is it of yours?’
I didn’t like Wil and I certainly didn’t like his attitude, but then, he had caught me rifling nosily around his desk.
‘None,’ I conceded, ‘but I was only being curious. It wasn't until I looked at this that I realised it was probably yours and not Roman’s.’
‘Of course it is my work!’ he exclaimed. ‘You can’t expect Roman to produce work like this.’ There was scorn in his voice and a certain lack of respect for his elders (and Roman was much, much older than Wil), which I found disconcerting. Then I got it.
‘You think you’re better than him, don’t you?’
Wil didn’t quite manage to hide the smirk.
‘You do! How can you think that?’
‘Madam.’ He was stiff and formal with suppressed anger and dislike. ‘Roman is but a boy when it comes to science. He helps me with my work and he is my patron, but he can never be my equal when it comes to scientific matters.’
I narrowed my eyes at him. ‘I wouldn’t bet on it. He’s probably forgotten more than you’ll ever know.’ I said that purely for effect , because I suspected Roman never actually forgot anything.
‘Oh , I don’t doubt it, but it’s all historical, you see. In the past,’ he clarified, just in case the silly little woman didn’t know what historical meant. ‘I am only interested in the present and the future. We, and by that I mean my fellow scientists, know and understand more about the world and its working that has ever been understood before.’
‘Bet I know more than you do,’ I muttered childishly under my breath.
‘Now, take our Mr Fabius, for instance,’ he continued.
‘Who?’ I had no idea who he was referring to.
‘Mr Fabius. Mark Fabius.’ Suddenly he burst out laughing, one hand dramatically slapped to his chest. ‘You don’t even know his name,’ he spluttered. ‘This is priceless!’
‘Who is Mark Fabius?’ I asked through gritted teeth, but I didn’t really need to ask – I could guess: the tone of his voice spoke volumes.
‘Marcus Fabius Gaiaus, to give him his proper Roman name, but Mark Fabius is what he goes by. Surely you knew that?’
It was obvious I didn’t and Wil took great delight in that. ‘It appears that Mark has failed to tell you everything,’ he gloated. ‘Perhaps you do not know him as well as you think you do. ‘Roman’ is purely a nickname.’
I thought Roman was his name. I had no reason to think he was called anything else, and I felt betrayed and deceived. Why hadn’t he confided in me?
Then , I decided it didn’t matter; he trusted me with something much more important, something that was at the heart of who he is, the reason why he exists – the knowledge that he is a vampire.
I pushed aside the thought that Wil also knew. He was only privilege to that information because Roman