‘With a name like Priest? I doubt it,’ Eve murmured.
‘O-o-h it’s Edward Priest is it?’ Donna wasn’t usually invested in any of Eve’s writers but she knew Edward Priest. Everyone did.
‘Tell him his last one was a bit soggy in the middle. I lost interest and skipped about ten chapters.’
‘No, Mum, I won’t be telling him that.’ Eve laughed although she silently agreed with her mum. Edward’s writing had been getting lazy until this new book he was writing.
‘I have to go, love, but let me know how it works out,’ Donna said. Eve could hear the buses at the depot in the background and the sound of people talking.
‘Okay, Mum, bye,’ she said and looked at the phone and then quickly did a search on Amber and Myles. No mention of him anywhere online, which wasn’t so unusual, but there were a few pictures of Flora and Amber, and Flora as a baby and Edward.
Myles really was the boy in the invisible mask, she thought as she showered and dressed.
Downstairs, Hilditch was in the kitchen, making breakfast for Flora, who was sitting with a collection of dolls around the table.
‘Morning,’ said Hilditch cheerfully. She was dipping thick white bread into beaten eggs, soon to be French toast.
‘Morning,’ said Eve wondering if she should ask Hilditch about Myles or if she should ask Edward. She didn’t want to be seen as gossiping below stairs but she also wanted to know Hilditch’s opinion on the situation. She suspected it would be more balanced than Edward’s.
She was about to ask when Edward walked into the kitchen, smelling of cologne and soap and looking handsome in a cream knitted fisherman’s jumper and jeans.
‘Hello, petal.’ He leaned down and kissed Flora’s head. ‘How are the changelings?’ He gestured to the dolls.
‘They’re okay,’ she said. ‘They will be cold later so I need to warm them up with breakfast now.’
‘Good idea,’ Edward said and wandered over to Hilditch. ‘Oh fantastic, you do make great French toast, Hilditch.’
‘Thank you, Mr Priest,’ she said and Edward beamed at Eve.
‘And how are you, Miss Pilkins? Planning on tucking into some French toast with us?’
His breezy attitude annoyed her and whatever thoughts she had of him last night being handsome and desirable popped like a balloon. He was carrying on about French toast when a child was hiding from life in the tower of the house? He was outrageous.
‘I would like some, but do you know who I think would like some more?’ She crossed her arms.
All three faces stared at her, waiting for an answer.
‘Myles, I think Myles would love some French toast. Should we call him down and ask him or will we keep him up in his little tower and feed him scraps?’
The look on Edward’s face was pure fury but Eve held her ground.
‘You have no right to snoop about this house.’ Hilditch’s voice was strained.
‘And you have no right keeping a child away from the world for whatever reason you think might make sense to you and to him.’
Edward’s eyes narrowed at her as he stared.
‘You know nothing about what has happened in this house, Eve. Please don’t interfere in my family again, or I will send you to a hotel to work for the remainder of the book.’
She shook her head. ‘No, I’m not going anywhere. That child needs a friend, an advocate. He’s clearly unwell. If you’re not going to do something then I will call someone who can help.’
‘Like who?’ Edward scoffed.
‘Social services.’
‘You wouldn’t dare,’ said Hilditch. ‘The boy’s not being abused, he’s depressed. He’s sad and upset. You think we haven’t tried to bring him down to be with us?’
‘That’s enough, Hilditch,’ said Edward and he looked at Eve.
