Margaret’s eyes searched her own. “All right, we must be smart about it though.” Margaret rubbed her chin. “I’ll talk to Lenny and see what he thinks. We’ll need enough money…it’s not going to be a short journey, you know. They could be in another country by now, you do realise that?”
“Yes, of course, but they wouldn’t have had the money to take trains, or anything. We…well, we can do that. We have a head start. Margaret, we can even get on a plane, can’t we?” Claudia clapped her hands together. This is what all that money can buy. This is what it’s for.
“Oh, Margaret, I understand so much more, now, than when my…when the gypsies were here. I can help them, I know it.” Claudia moved closer to the window and looked out. “Dane could be anywhere, he’ll be searching for Oriana, I know. But the others…they’ll surely have settled somewhere we can find them. Brishan said they would follow the festival route in England. We’ll do that! We’ll go on the same gypsy trail.”
“Hold your horses, Miss, it won’t be that easy. You can’t think you can just…well, your mother and Edward will look for you if you go away. With all their connections. I’m sorry to say it, as it’s my own fault as much as anyone’s, but you’re still very new to the ways of the world.”
Who cares what Grace and Edward do? But she’d have to care; it wasn’t going to be easy to escape them, they would cling to the façade they were creating of her life. The one they’d always created.
“I know, Margaret. People do it though. Girls are out there travelling the world on their own!” Bless the television, and Preston for introducing it to me like I’m an adult. “I have to do this. I’m desperate to do it. I’m supposed to do it. I just know it’s right.”
But even as she spoke, Claudia’s words didn’t quite feel right. Is it just fear? Just fear. Nothing unusual.
Margaret’s eyes crinkled as she smiled. “Well, I wasn’t expecting adventure at my ripe old age, but adventure is what we’re going to get.”
And that was enough to get Claudia through. Wasn’t it?
“You’re obviously looking forward to today’s picnic, Claudia?” Edward asked, mouth dripping with the runny yoke of his egg. Claudia felt exhilarated by her decision and Margaret’s quick approval of it. Grace and Edward seemed delighted by her mood and Preston kept glancing at her from underneath his long, black eyelashes.
“Yes, of course, anything to get me out of this house, as you know.” Claudia couldn’t help the retort, though she smiled as she spoke.
“You don’t like the chateau, Claudia? With due respect to your dear, departed parents, how long have you been here? Please don’t think me rude, but when was their passing, exactly?” Preston raised an exquisite, ash-blond eyebrow.
“Claudia’s parents died quite a few years ago now, Preston, but as they lived in the area, we felt it best she remain here, at least until we could offer her sufficient guidance,” Edward rushed in, his words quick and purposeful. “Plus, we had the benefit of this property. You know the world of politics, no time to sleep, let alone organise your own affairs.” He went on. “She’s been fully schooled and governed on the property, away from the considerable temptations of the city.”
“Ah, I understand.” Preston faced Edward, then turned to Claudia. “But away from the fun also. Besides, she’s a mature young lady now, I’m sure she’ll do you proud when you return to the city.” His eyes remained on Claudia, though he spoke to Edward.
Claudia wanted to poke her tongue out at Edward, to act like the child his words made her out to be. But, at the same time, Preston’s quick defence of her stifled the urge, replacing it with an odd fluttering in her stomach. She crossed her arms, pressing them into her abdomen and leaning back in her chair.
She felt like a cheeky elf, dangerously careless, now she knew she’d soon be gone. And nothing was going to change that. “Perhaps I would make you proud. But perhaps we will never know.”
“Oh?” Preston’s fork paused mid-air and she watched as a thick wave of blond hair fell over his chiselled cheekbone and into the sauce-covered sausage he ate. He raised an elegant finger and pushed it neatly back behind his ear.
“I want to stay here. I like it and I feel at home. Especially now that I’ve met some of the local people, thanks to you.” She nodded at Preston and he smiled, his dimples deep and enchanting. A piece of bread was stuck between his startling white teeth and she giggled.
“What?” he asked, turning to Grace and Edward. Grace raised a subtle hand towards her own teeth and made a rubbing motion.
“Food in my teeth? Oh, the shame!” He winked at Claudia, dropping his fork on the plate and placing one arm dramatically across his forehead as the other covered his mouth. Claudia laughed, feeling Snow-White and Rose-Red flitting about her head, their chime-like giggles adding to her own. Preston’s ice blue eyes twinkled as he stared at her across the table. Another large smile as he deliberately ignored the food.
This is fun, Preston is fun. Nothing like Grace or Edward. Claudia was truly enjoying herself, now that it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except the journey she was about to make. In that second, she made a firm decision to enjoy the life her mother, Edward and Preston had to offer — before she left them. For good.
The lake glistened in the late morning sun, its frost covered surface reflecting the spindly branches of the winter trees. Voices carried on the cool air and Claudia buzzed with nerves. Everyone will stare, they always do. Perched on the dewy grass, the white marquee looked ostentatious and overly large for forty or so people. At least it hadn’t snowed for a few days, she’d be able to take her shoes off later, feel the earth pulse beneath her feet. A familiar hollow ache joined her nerves. How differently she’d feel if she were walking down the valley to join the gypsies.
Badminton nets swung between the trees and fires warmed the guests inside the marquee: lounging on fur rugs and snacking on delicacies offered by waiters in black suits. Czech accents mixed with English, mixed with French. Anyone with any money in the nearby region — expats, holidaymakers, local businessmen — were invited to the Spencers’ regular soirées.
Well, more like Grace’s thinly veiled attempts at introducing Claudia to society. A society, thought Claudia, that was solely focused on money and power. One that she swore she would never join.
As she entered the marquee, Pavle, the horse trainer, and his family smiled up at her from their prime space near the fire. Thank goodness for the neighbours. Although, Pavle did look at her rather guiltily, no doubt still befuddled by the odd disappearance of the great Kladruber. Mr and Mrs Kadlec from the nearby winery and the Maseks, who owned the bakery in Lednice, all waved, their faces warm and welcoming. Many of the locals had spent years idly curious about the folk of the chateau. Now, thanks to Preston’s social nature, Claudia finally basked on the fringes of their lives, like a normal person in a normal community, as they welcomed her as one of them. One of them — a local. Well, a local, but temporarily orphaned gypsy.
She couldn’t catch the sigh before it escaped her lips.
“What are you thinking about, if I may?” Preston’s breath warmed the back of her neck and goose bumps trickled down her arms.
Claudia turned to face him. “To be honest, I was just thinking how nice it would’ve been growing up with these people, having a more normal life.”
“This is anything but normal, Claudia. I’m afraid you’ve been far too sheltered till now. Not everyone lives in such wealth, with a chateau all to themselves and servants do their every bidding.”
Claudia’s face flushed red. “I’m not so naïve as to think so, I just meant the social aspect would have been nice.”
He rubbed his chin with a long, elegant finger. “Yes, odd that Grace and Edward wanted you housebound. Still, saves problems for them I imagine, nothing worse than unruly teenagers.” Preston chuckled. “But, if I have anything to do with it, you’ll be allowed your fun. Well, as long as I get to watch.” He smiled.
What
do you mean, watch?” Claudia frowned up him, her neck bending back as far as it would go.
“Watch, as you’re unleashed into the world, of course. Someone like you will make quite a splash, no matter if you stay here or go to London.”
Claudia shook her head and stared down at his long feet encased in black leather shoes. “I don’t even know what I want to do, or what kind of a job I could get. I can’t see how I’d make a ‘splash’ as you say.” And all that matters is finding the gypsies, anyway. She shrugged.
“You’re so unaware of yourself, Claudia.” He gazed down at her. “It’s endearing, in a quaint way, but frustrating. Look around! Do you see how people admire you?” Preston swept an arm out towards the picnickers.
Yes, she knew they looked, of course. She felt them at every party, every dinner, every picnic. They did look at her, and they spoke in soft tones and seemed to want to be introduced to her. But admire? Not likely. At first, she hadn’t realised people didn’t always get treated this way. And now she thought it might be because she had dollar signs floating over her head — and that it made people blind with greed.
“It’s because you’re beautiful, astoundingly beautiful, Claudia. You’re almost ethereal,” Preston said and caught both her hands in his own. “You have such strange, intense expressions and well, you use such old-fashioned words.”
Claudia looked away.
“The men want you and the women want to look like you. And the money…well, that makes people want to be around you. You know that, don’t you?”
Heat crawled over Claudia’s body, starting at her neck and covering every inch of her. She stared down at the manicured hands entwined with her own. Preston’s compliments didn’t ring true. Couldn’t be true. Except the part about the money.
“I was intrigued just hearing of you, alone in the world out here in a foreign country and Grace said you were beautiful, but I had no idea how beautiful and innocent and sweet.” His hands moved so his thumbs could rub the insides of her palms.
A compliment? From the perfect butterfly queen? Unbelievable.
“Hello? Claudia, are you listening? Where do you go? It’s like you disappear into a world of your own.” He laughed again, releasing her hands.
If only you knew. Claudia realised her palms were sweating.
“Sorry, Preston, I’m just embarrassed, actually.” She needed to reply before he thought she was rude, or even insane. She tucked her chin in towards her neck.
“Why, that’s part of the appeal of you, your honesty, the way you don’t seem to know how to use people. No doubt you’ll learn to hide those good qualities quick enough.” He smirked and held out his elbow for her to take.
Claudia smiled and let him lead. He moved towards the largest group lounging on the plush rugs. The women glanced at her from under their eyelashes, quickly turning away and whispering to their friends as Claudia approached. She clenched Preston’s arm, digging her nails into his jacket. His eyes settled on her for a moment, then he moved to circle her waist, his hand resting firmly on her lower back.
It felt comforting to have him here. Especially now that she could see the picnickers were not as charming as she’d once thought; more like groups of circling sharks, each waiting to take a bite. Of what though? What on earth did she have to offer such well-established, intelligent, socially brilliant people?
Claudia sank into the soft depths of a rug, eager to hide from the attention as Preston mingled. He was so confident, like he belonged no matter where he was, like he already knew everyone would like him. She felt like he’d always lived at the chateau, the way he’d blended so effortlessly into her life.
But she missed rolling in the leaves and running without a care and laughing with the gypsies as they romped around the vans. She missed Brishan chasing her through the valley, and the children with dirt on their cheeks and bruises on their naked legs climbing the trees to watch the fun.
“Claudia, snap out of it please, dear.” Grace loomed above. “I want you to meet the Seymours.” She gestured towards a couple, two teenage girls and a boy of around eight.
Claudia stood up too quickly and her head spun in dizzying circles — but Preston’s hands were there, gripping her shoulders, steadying her from behind, catching her before she had a chance to give in to her wobbling legs. She leaned back into him, breathing deeply and turning to smile her thanks. One dimple appeared as he smiled back and, for a moment, his smile made her feel like they were the only two people in the marquee.
“Mr and Mrs Seymour, Courtney, Tara and Jack, this is my cousin, Claudia.” Grace directed an elegant hand as she introduced each one. “The Seymour family are old friends from America, dear.” With that she departed the group with nothing more than an airy wave.
Thank God Preston is here. Grace had, as usual, thrown her to the sharks without a raft.
“Nice to meet you,” Claudia said, shaking each outstretched hand, making sure she made eye contact with each person.
“And you,” Mrs Seymour said, eyeing Claudia up and down, once, before turning towards Preston, her eyes wide and her cheeks flushed. “Preston, lovely to see you again, what brings you here for such an extended visit?”
Preston bent to kiss the heavily rouged cheek Mrs Seymour offered. “The Spencers are old friends of the family and I’m on a break from College, so thought I’d make the most of their generous offer to spend time here.” Preston’s voice sounded clipped, matching Mrs Seymour’s pompous tone. It jarred Claudia’s ears.
“So, what music do you like? Do you even get any new music out here in the middle of nowhere?” Tara, the taller of the two blonde girls, spoke to Claudia in a high-pitched voice, giggling and leaning on her sister as if she was a lamppost.
“I’m not familiar yet with all the American artists, if that’s what you mean by new music, but I’m sure I’d like all of it.” Claudia smiled, wishing she didn’t feel like she needed these girls to like her.
The sisters looked at each other and laughed.
“Oh, that’s cute, but no one likes all of it. You couldn’t possibly like country music and heavy metal and still be into classical and hip hop. That’d be stupid.” Courtney tossed her white-blonde hair over her shoulder and folded her arms under large breasts, pushing them up until the zip on her jacket strained to contain them.
Claudia’s lips trembled as she tried to smile. She looked at the girl’s parents instead, hoping to escape the conversation. The couple stood still, backs straight and hands clasped before them, silently observing the uncomfortable conversation. They looked like replica parent dolls in a doll’s house, ready at the door to greet their guests. A giggle bubbled in her throat and Claudia almost choked trying to suppress it.
“Claudia has been classically trained on the piano and knows all about the local folk music. Television and pop culture isn’t as popular here, although the country is quickly catching up. A pity really,” Preston jumped in, words perfectly pronounced with a touch of sarcasm — an emotion Claudia had only recently learnt to recognise.
“Oh come on, Preston, you don’t believe that!” Tara touched Preston on the arm, just above his elbow. “If there was no pop culture, as you put it, you wouldn’t have had so much fun out clubbing with us.”
Preston grinned, both dimples now in full view. “Right you are, but it’s not the be all and end all of entertainment.”
“How do you all know each other?” Claudia asked, wondering if her lips were ever going to stop twitching.
“We travel in the same circles, dear, spent quite a few lovely summer holidays in the Mediterranean with the Myers.” Mrs Seymour turned towards her husband and nodded as she spoke. He mirrored her actions.
“Plus, Pres and I had a little fling last year, didn’t we hon?” Tara leant into Preston, grabbing his hand and putting it very deliberately on her waist.
Preston cleared his throat and discreetly moved his hand back to his own hip. “If you call hanging out in nightclubs, getting drunk
and occasionally kissing, a fling, I guess so.” There was a dangerous undertone to his voice now; yet another voice she’d never heard.
Come now, you two, it’s…well…we don’t speak of such things in company,” Mrs Seymour said, her voice cool and crisp. “Lovely to meet you, Claudia. Preston, we’ll be seeing you in Prague, I take it? We’re in the villa at Mala Strana for two months.”
“Of course.” Preston bowed his head and Claudia watched with relief as the group walked away. Mr Seymour and the young boy, Jack, followed the chatting women in silence. Do the males in the family ever get a word in?
Claudia slumped back on the rug. “Is that how all girls my age talk?”
Preston laughed and eased his long legs down beside her. “Many, yes, you’ll find yourself an oddity among teenage girls, if only for their complete lack of interest in anything other than boys, clothes and what the celebrities are doing.”
“I’m sure I would like to find out about those things. Not that I want to be anything like those two.” Listening to Snow-White and Rose-Red’s gibberish is better than talking with girls like Tara and Courtney.
“You never could be, Claudia. It’s like you’re from another time. I almost want to hide you from it all…you know, to preserve what you are.”
“And what is that?” Claudia’s coy and flirtatious tone was something new to her; it was just like the butterfly queen, she thought. She blushed.
Preston leaned in close towards her face. “A charming, beautiful young lady, unspoilt by the stupidity of the world.”
“You don’t know everything about me,” she snapped. She was starting to resent his constant references to her quaint charms, but she knew it worked in her favour to pander to it. She wanted him, wanted everyone, to see her as an equal, an adult.
As Brishan and Dane had.
“Oh? So you have secrets? All women must have an ounce of mystery, after all.” He tweaked her nose and jumped up to get them some food.
Preston was confusing her. He treated her like a child and then admired her as a woman — often during the very same conversation. He was so different to Brishan, who’d always been straightforward. She’d intuitively trusted everything Brishan had said and he had treated her just as herself. Being with Preston felt like being in the middle of a guessing game, never quite knowing how he’d make her feel next. It was frustrating. But exciting.
Gypsy Trail Page 14