13 Aunt Dimity: Vampire Hunter by Nancy Atherton

Author:Nancy Atherton [Atherton, Nancy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2010-04-22T05:44:50+00:00

Shame on you, Lori.

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” I protested. “He never used to mind

it when I talked about the bad old days, when he was living on the

streets, but when I brought it up today, he fl inched.”

What inspired you to mention it today?

“Kit was worried that Leo might be cold-shouldered in Finch,”

I explained. “And I told him that the villagers wouldn’t dare treat

Leo the way they’d treated him when he was down and out, because the vicar wouldn’t let them.”

And he flinched?

“As if I’d smacked him in the face,” I said guiltily. “But I haven’t

told you the worst part yet. After we left Aldercot, I started yammering like an idiot about mental illness. I didn’t stop to think

about what had happened to Kit’s father until Kit finally told me to

shut up. And then I wanted to kick myself, or let Kit kick me, for

being so incredibly insensitive. I felt awful, Dimity, just awful.”

I can imagine. Did you say anything else that upset him?

“No,” I said. “I put my foot in my mouth twice, but otherwise I

was positive and upbeat with him. When he started going on about

being a deeply flawed human being, I told him that if he was deeply

flawed, then there was hope for the rest of us.” I shook my head.

“Tell me, Dimity: Why do saints always think they’re fl awed?”

Because they’re saints.

“But what flaws could Kit possibly have?” I demanded. “A disgraceful streak of kindness? An overabundance of patience? A bigger heart than the law allows?”

Perhaps Kit doesn’t see himself as you see him, Lori. Or perhaps he sees

something in himself that you don’t see. Or something that isn’t there.

“Sorry, Dimity,” I said, squinting at the page. “You’ve lost me.”

Never mind. It’s not important. Have you anything else to report?

“Not tonight,” I said. “But I hope that I’ll have more to tell you

on Monday.”

174 Nancy Atherton

As do I. Good night, Lori, and good luck at the Despatch . I hope the

archives will lead you to the truth.

“Thanks,” I said. “Good night, Dimity.”

When the graceful lines of royal-blue ink had faded from the

page, I closed the journal, held my feet out to the fire, and contemplated the trip to Upper Deeping with a purely girlie sense of

satisfaction.

“Finding the truth is a good and noble thing, Reg,” I said, looking up at my pink bunny. “But so is a day without mud.”

Eighteen

S ince Rob and Will approved of Annelise’s fiancé, they didn’t

mind in the least when he spirited her off before church the

following morning, although the questions they asked while

we were in church made me wonder what kind of comic books Clive

Pickle had been bringing to school lately.

Peggy Taxman’s head snapped in our direction when Will inquired, loudly, if Annelise and Oliver would have babies, and the

vicar faltered in the middle of his sermon when Rob announced, after some thought, that Annelise would have lots of babies, because

she had such a nice, soft tummy. I could do nothing but bow my

head, not only to hide my blushes but to give heartfelt thanks to

God that Annelise wasn’t there.

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