The Contrary Tale of the Butterfly Girl: From the Peculiar Adventures of John Loveheart, Esq., Volume 2 by Ishbelle Bee Read Free Book Online Page B

a little party next Saturday. It saves me the trouble of posting it. ”
    Guardian the dog cocks a leg at the back of her chair. Mercifully she doesn ’ t see him.
    “ Thank you, ” I respond, keeping a firm eye on Guardian.
    She seems a little inconvenienced at our presence and sighs rather affectedly. “ I am rather busy today, children, and my son Horatio has been sent to Cambridge to visit my sister. He will be back for the party and I am sure you will meet him then. ” She turns her eyes away from us and continues writing her invitations. “ I am sure, ” she says without glancing at us, “ that you can see yourselves out. ”
    And so we do.
     
    The walk to the Professor ’ s house is through deep woods, the light from the sun almost blanketed by the thickness of the trees which cover our heads. The air is cool and eerie. Guardian chases a rabbit through the undergrowth, wagging his tail happily. Boo Boo picks forget-me-nots and makes a chain and puts them wonky in her hair. Finally, we come upon the house, which is a crumbling medieval keep with a tower, surrounded by a moat with a little wooden bridge.
    “ The wizard lives here, ” says Boo Boo. She points a finger at the tower.
    We cross the bridge and walk into a courtyard where a gentleman with white hair and gloves stands. He is pacing up and down, smoking a pipe. Seeing us, he stops suddenly and moves towards us. “ Can I help you? ”
    Guardian growls softly and places himself in front of Boo Boo.
    “ Are you the Professor? ” I ask.
    “ No, I am an associate of his. My name is Icarus Hookeye. And your dog doesn ’ t seem to like me very much. ”
    “ Oh. I think you are having dinner with my U ncle tonight. ”
    “ Grubweed? Yes, I have some business with him. ” He eyes me coolly.
    “ We have come to introduce ourselves to the Professor. ”
    “ It won ’ t be possible to see him today. As you can see, I have been waiting for some time. ”
    He sounds irritated.
    I don ’ t know what else to say to him so we leave and he watches us go. As we cross the bridge Boo Boo points again at the tower and I see the face of a man peering down at us from the upper most window, partially obscured by shadow.
    The forest vegetation is thick about our ankles, suffocating the sunlight. Custard yellow toadstools ripen amidst a mass of furry, greenish moss. Creepy crawlies spy on us from the knots in trees, those hidden and secret spaces. Watching us, antennas twitching.
    We are under insect surveillance.

 
     
    Icarus Hookeye comes for dinner
    W hen Icarus Hookeye arrives the moon has risen and is hanging like a mirror in the black velvet of the night sky. Uncle Philip greets him with a firm handshake and escorts him into the dining room where Mrs Treacle ’ s rabbit pies sit steaming alongside heaps of buttered mash potatoes and a shredded cabbage.
    “ First dinner, and then business, ” says Uncle Grubweed. He spoons an excessively generous portion of mash onto his plate while Sally the maid pours red wine into the gentlemen ’ s glasses.
    “ And where is Mrs Grubweed? ” enquires Mr Hookeye.
    “ She is feeling a little frail this evening and keeping her father company upstairs. It is no particular loss, she is a woman of very few words. ”
    That ’ s an understatement, I think.
    Cornelius is kicking the leg of Prunella ’ s chair.
    “ Daddy, tell Cornelius to stop! ”
    Uncle Philip stands up and smacks Cornelius round the back of the head so hard his head falls forward into his dinner. Prunella and Estelle are laughing. Cornelius runs out of the room, covering his face.
    I am sat next to Mr Hookeye. I notice he has turquoise eyes which remind me of coloured glass, as though he were a character in a stained glass window.
    “ I am quite glad I have never had children, ” he says, looking directly at me.
    Mr Grubweed replies, “ Mine are little brats. I am hoping to get these two, ” (pointing to Prunella and Estelle) “ married off in