The Sea Inside His Head by Theresa Le Flem

Author:Theresa Le Flem [Theresa Le Flem]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780719810626
Publisher: Robert Hale
Published: 2013-03-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Tom carried the suitcase up to the front door of Chalkfield Hall trailed by Kim holding a carrier bag bursting with things Helen had given her. As the bell sounded through the house, Tom pulled out a handkerchief and was mopping his brow when the door opened.

‘Come on inside, my dears,’ called Winnie. ‘I’ll go and tell Lady Ashby you’re here.’

A door into a nearby room stood ajar, revealing lavish but ageing furniture, a faded gold velvet sofa, and worn carpets scattered with Chinese rugs. There was a chaise-longue under the window upholstered in tapestry and finished with carved wooden scrolls. Looking up the stairwell to the high ceiling, Kim, who until now had not spoken a word, stared at the elaborate ornamental cornices, crowned in the centre with a crystal chandelier.

‘It’s like a palace in ’ere!’ she whispered.

Whistling through his teeth and as nervous as a schoolboy, Tom replied, ‘Tis grand enough, Kim, to be sure!’

There was the sound of uneven footsteps and Edith came, descending the staircase with difficulty and leaning heavily on a walking-stick.

‘Good afternoon, Father, Kim,’ she called. ‘Welcome to Chalkfield Hall!’

Holding out a jewelled hand expecting it to be kissed, Tom obliged clumsily. Kim perched on the sofa in the lounge while Tom sat stiffly on a regency chair. Dominating the room was a huge fireplace with sawn logs stacked beside it. On the marble mantelpiece stood some photographs – of horses, mostly, and a soldier in uniform. In the corner was a television half-covered by a velvet cloth.

‘Kim, my dear,’ began Edith, ‘I expect this will all be strange to you at first but I hope you’ll be comfortable here. Winnie has prepared your room.’ She peered over her glasses at the girl. ‘I want you to make yourself at home as best you can. You may want to bring some of your own pictures or trinkets, to make your room feel more like home.’ She smiled and if she appeared condescending it was lost on Kim, who replied that she hardly had anything she could call her own.

‘I’ve got one photo – of me mum,’ she said, gazing around as if to get her bearings. ‘Me dad’s dead. I ain’t got a photo of ’im.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that, Kim.’ Edith sounded truly sympathetic. ‘How long since he passed away?’

Kim shrugged her shoulders. ‘Dunno, ages, I remember me mum though; she was pretty, not like me. Don’t see her now though, haven’t done, not since I was small. We don’t know where she is neither.’ She glanced at Tom as though for confirmation.

‘No, no indeed!’ replied Tom, shaking his head.

‘Never mind, dear, it’s your future we’re to think of now!’ said Edith, patting her arm. The cold touch surprised Kim and she noticed the raised blue veins and the weighty diamond rings that adorned every finger. At her suggestion, Kim got up and went into the kitchen to find Winnie. Tom brought her suitcase to the foot of the stairs, and stood eyeing up the long climb dubiously.

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