Sleeping Angel (Ravenwood Series) by Mia James

Author:Mia James [James, Mia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Eleven books
Published: 2014-05-13T00:00:00+00:00

As April came down the stairs, she could already hear her grandfather in his study shouting into the phone.

‘What do you mean? Aren’t I entitled to the protection of the law?’ he was yelling. ‘I hope I don’t need to remind you that I am the victim here!’

Thinking it best to avoid Gramps while he was in attack dog mode, she turned towards the smells of coffee and toast which were wafting up from the kitchen. As she was passing through the entrance hall, she was startled when the doorbell rang in her ear. She heard her grandfather swear and slam the phone down, then his pounding footsteps as he stalked through.

‘Ah, Prilly,’ he said as he saw her, ‘It’s probably best if you stay out of sight. If I see one of those damned TV people, I swear I might take his camera and shove it ...’ he trailed off as he opened the door, his scowl softening. Peter, my friend,’ he said, ‘Please, please do come in.’

April was surprised to see Peter Noble stepping into the hallway.

‘Uncle Peter? I didn’t know you were coming.’

Peter glanced over at Thomas and her grandfather looked sheepish.

‘Sorry Princess,’ he said, ‘I called Peter, asked him to come over. I ...’

‘I think I’m what they call a lesser evil,’ said Peter, ‘Your grandfather realised that you’d need to talk to somebody in the press, otherwise they’d never leave you alone. So he called me, suggested we have a chat on your way to school. How’s that sound?’

April thought it sounded horrible. She didn’t want to talk to anyone about Calvin Temple ever again and she certainly didn’t want whatever she said to be read by tens of thousands of people over their cornflakes.

‘Don’t worry,’ smiled Peter, ‘I’ll be sympathetic. And besides, I’ve got a plan to get you out of here.’

Peter’s plan actually worked quite well. Having parked his car outside, he went out to talk to the paparazzi and hacks on the pavement. Presumably when the editor of a national newspaper hints there is a better line of enquiry, even the most hardened media vultures listen. When April nervously stepped out onto the pavement – trying not to look at the gate as she passed – and quickly climbed into Peter’s car, the street was empty.

‘What did you say to them?’ asked April, turning to look out of the rear window as Peter drove them away.

‘You don’t need many skills to be a newspaper man, but being able to tell a lie with a straight face is one of them.’

They sat in silence as Peter negotiated the traffic through the clogged rush hour streets. April had never been driven to school before and it totally different up here on the surface. Commuting to North London on the tube was hot, cramped and often claustrophobic, but it was comparatively quiet. No one spoke on the tube at that time of day and, apart from the tannoy announcements and the rushing air of the

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