The House at Tyneford Read Online Free

novel.”
    I peered inside the f-holes carved into the body of the instrument and realised that it was stuffed full of yellow paper.
    “How did you manage to get all those pages in there?”
    Julian’s smile spread into a grin. “I went to a string maker. He steamed off the front, I placed the novel inside and he glued it shut.”
    He spoke with pride, pleased to confide his secret, and then his face became serious once again.
    “I want you to take it to England for safekeeping.”
    Julian always wrote in duplicate, writing out his work on carbon paper in his tiny curling hand, so that a shadow novel appeared upon the pages underneath. The top layer on watermarked white paper was sent to his publisher, while the carbon copy on flimsy yellow tissue remained locked in his desk drawer. Julian was terrified of losing work and the mahogany desk held a word hoard. He’d never permitted a copy to leave his study before.
    “I’ll take the manuscript with me to New York. But I want you to keep this copy in England. Just in case.”
    “All right. But I’ll give it back to you in New York and you can lock it inside your desk again.”
    The hall clock chimed the half hour.
    “You must go and dress, little one,” said Julian, planting a kiss on my forehead. “The guests will be arriving soon.”

    It was the first night of Passover and Anna had dictated that it was to be a celebration, a party with champagne and dancing like there used to be before the bad times. Crying was absolutely forbidden. Margot came around early to dress and we sat in our dressing gowns in Anna’s large bathroom, faces flushed with steam. Anna filled the tub with rose petals and propped the dining room candlesticks beside the washbasin mirror, like she did on the evening of the Opera Ball. She lay back in the tub, her hair knotted on the top of her head, fingers trailing patterns in the water. “Ring the bell, Margot. Ask Hilde to bring a bottle of the Laurent-Perrier and three glasses.”
    Margot did as she was bidden, and soon we sat sipping champagne, each pretending to be cheerful for the benefit of the others. I took a gulp and felt the tears burn in my throat. No crying, I told myself and swallowed, the bubbles making me choke.
    “Be careful there,” said Anna with a giggle, too high pitched, striking a note of false gaiety.
    I wondered how many bottles of wine or champagne were left. I knew Julian had sold the good ones. Anything expensive or valuable was liable to be confiscated; better to sell it first. Margot fanned herself with a magazine and, casting it aside, marched to the window, opening the sash to let in a cool breath of night air. I watched the steam trickle outside and the gauze curtain flutter.
    “So, tell me about the department in California,” said Anna, lying back and closing her eyes.
    Margot flopped into a wicker rocking chair and unfastened her robe to reveal a white lace corset and matching knickers. I wondered what Robert thought of such exciting underwear and was instantly filled with envy. No one had ever shown the slightest interest in seeing me in my underthings. Robert could be quite dashing in the right sort of lighting, although he always got rather too animated when talking about his star projects at the university. I had once grievously offended him when I’d introduced him at a party as “my brother-in-law the astrologer” rather than “the astronomer.” He turned to me with a haughty glare, asking, “Do I wear a blue headscarf and dangling earrings or ask you to cross my palm with silver before I tell you that, with Venus in retrograde, I see a handsome stranger in your future?” “Oh no, but I wish you would!” I replied, and as a consequence he’d never really forgiven me, which was a pity, because before that he used to let me take puffs on his cigar. “The university at Berkeley is supposed to be very good,” Margot was saying. “They’re full of kind things to say about Robert. They’re