I pushed open the heavy oaken doors, allowing Abigail to enter the large gothic manse ahead of me. She brushed past me as she did – my strength only carried the door open a fraction – and I was struck again by her casual familiarity after only just meeting on the driveway.
‘I wonder if anybody else received an invite,’ she mused, walking through the lobby with an almost practised ease. The mysterious Baron who had summoned us to his strange corner of the world for a mysterious ‘event’ had yet to make an appearance; though the gold-foil invitation he had sent me almost hummed with anticipation in my jacket pocket.
‘Hello?!’ Abigail called out into the empty house, and I rushed to shush her. ‘What?’ she frowned. ‘Afraid we’ll disturb the person who’s come to give an estimate on residential glazing? There’s nobody here, Rennings.’
Out of nowhere, a thunderclap rocked the world outside the windows and we both shrieked in fright, clutching one another. As the sound faded, we quickly disentangled ourselves.
‘By Jove!’ a new voice sounded, incredulous and foppish. ‘There are more people here!’
We turned and saw a well-dressed young man with a boyish face bounding towards us across the vast entry hall. In his hand, he carried an ancient oil lantern, and two more people – a stern man and an older woman – trailed behind him.
‘Not so fast, Hugh,’ the woman scolded, as she struggled to keep up on her cane. ‘Where are your manners?’
With his back to the pair, only Abigail and I could see Hugh rolling his eyes. He did, however, slow down slightly.
‘You received an invitation too?’ the stern man asked us from beneath some incredibly bushy eyebrows.
‘We’re not out here to check out the imported glass balustrades – Melbourne has nicer ones anyway,’ Abigail yawned.
‘Yes,’ I said, stepping past my uninvited companion to offer my hand to the gentleman. He did not acknowledge the gesture, but Hugh grabbed it enthusiastically.
‘Superb,’ he grinned up at us. ‘Say, when do you think we’ll meet—’
Another clap of thunder and suddenly, there was a man on the stairs above us.
I don’t know why Fernando won’t listen to me when I tell him that I broke the balustrade on the stairs! Normally I would have no problems throwing Gizmo under the bus, but he wasn’t even in the house at the time, so that hardly seems fair. Also, the documentary crew caught me breaking the balustrade on camera so there’s no point in denying it. They can’t show Fernando the footage until the documentary is over, which will be in about four years, but he would hate me when he did see it.