The Girl in the Painting: A stand-alone Jefferson Tayte Genealogical Mystery by Steve Robinson

Author:Steve Robinson [Robinson, Steve]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Alchera
Published: 2021-03-22T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

By the time Jess left Mrs Eady’s kitchen, her stomach was feeling uncomfortably full. She had never seen so much good food, nor eaten so much in one sitting in all her life. The freshly baked bread had tasted even better than it had smelled, and she had been given meat, carved off the bone from a mouth-wateringly large leg of ham. She must have spent a good hour with Mrs Eady – who had insisted she call her Ann as soon as they met – before she decided it was time to be on her way lest she outstayed her welcome. Never fond of goodbyes with the people she liked, however, having thanked Ann with a big hug, she quietly slipped out of the kitchen while Ann had her back to her, rolling out pastry as she hummed a pleasant tune to herself. Jess thought she could find her own way back to the front door easily enough.

She was back in the entrance hall in no time, ambling across the black-and-white floor tiles, smiling contentedly to herself. She hadn’t seen a soul since she left the kitchen, and it seemed unlikely to her now that she would, which she thought was a shame because she would have liked to thank her benefactor before she left. She had just arrived at the foot of the main staircase, wondering where Mr Black might be, when she heard what sounded like someone shouting. It was coming from one of the rooms at the top of the stairs. She listened more closely, but the sound had stopped. All she could hear now was the mellow tick-tock of the grandfather clock against the wall to her left. The sound she had taken for shouting was so fleeting that she quickly convinced herself she was mistaken, but as she continued towards the front door, she heard it again.

‘Mr Black?’ she called up. ‘Is that you, sir?’

Jess took a couple of steps, peering up at the landing to see if anyone was there. She took a few more steps, listening for the sound again, but none came. It wasn’t until her curiosity had taken her all the way to the top of the stairs that she heard it again. It was quieter this time, but clearly coming from the other side of the door immediately to her right. Now that she was so close, she thought that whoever was there sounded angry about something. A part of her wanted to run back down the stairs and leave at once, but if it was Mr Black, she still wanted to thank him, and he was not angry with her after all, so she knocked lightly and opened the door.

‘Mr Black?’ she said again as she poked her head inside the room.

What she saw, however, was not Ephraim Black, but a boy who looked a few years older than her, about the same height, with chestnut-brown hair and rosy, freckled cheeks. He was wearing green corduroy knickerbockers,

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