Make it a bit lighter than the plank. In fact, make it a lot lighter than the plank.’
Matty was already gazing round the room, looking for materials.
‘Can I use that?’ he asked, pointing to some plywood.
‘Go right ahead. Here’s a hacksaw and here’s some craft glue. Kelly, are you going to watch?’
But Kelly was gazing at the little mechanism with longing. It looked awesome.
‘Can I make a bus?’ she asked and he grinned at the wistfulness in her voice. He loved it when he caught a kid’s attention, even if that kid was twenty-nine years old.
‘Any special reason why you’d like to make a bus?’
‘It’s just that rolling action. I had to spend hours on a school bus when I was a kid and the thing bucketed just like your plank. I reckon I could make a bus to sit on it and…’
‘Go right ahead,’ he said and beamed and she was sucked in, hook, line and sinker.
What followed was peace.
It was probably the first time Rafael had felt at peace since he’d heard of Kass’s death.
He’d always found solace in his work-it had always been an escape for him-but for the past few weeks he hadn’t been able to disappear. Even when he was alone, when the demands of his new role weren’t pounding on his door, his conscience was doing its own pounding. So was his worry for the future-for the fact that he had no choice in the role he was expected to play. He worked with his hands down here but even as he worked his thoughts wriggled and twisted and tried to find an escape.
But just here…just for now…there was no need to escape. He had no wish to escape. This was great.
Kelly and Matty were totally entranced. They had the material they needed. They sat on high stools at his biggest work bench, their heads bent over their projects, deep in concentration.
He’d hardly seen the similarity between mother and son, but he saw it now. The way their brows creased together, puckering into a tiny line just above their noses. The way they focused absolutely. When they picked up the hacksaws and made their first tentative notch, then paused and held the plywood out to make sure they were doing the right thing, their actions were identical.
They looked…
Like mother and son.
More. They looked endearing. Enchanting. He was giving them both pleasure and the thought was enough to settle a deep, aching pain in his gut that had been there…maybe ever since his father had died.
A measure of the success of Robo-Craft was that it pulled people in regardless. If you could put a plain, unadorned plank on this tiny mechanism and watch it transform into something that suggested an old school bus or a spaceship-anything-and if you could see that very easily you could make such a thing and watch it work…
‘Yeah, it’s brilliant,’ Kelly said, smiling, and he grinned at her across the table.
‘Was it that obvious?’
‘That you love this stuff. Yes, it is. I can see why Anna’s cross at you being dragged back here.’
‘Uncle Rafael wants to be here,’ Matty said stoutly. He’d glued four pieces of wood together and was now chopping a nose cone out of Styrofoam with his hacksaw. His tongue was out a little, to the side; he was concentrating fiercely, but he was ready to join in this adult conversation. ‘You both want to be here, don’t you?’
‘Because you’re here,’ Kelly said warmly. ‘Yes, we do.’
Easy for you to say, Rafael thought, but out of deference to Matty he didn’t say it.
They returned to work. Rafael concentrated on trying not to watch the pair of them. He had his own work to do and he was free to do it.
He’d rather watch them.
‘Mama, Crater says you really can ride horses,’ Matty said into the silence and the atmosphere in the workshop changed.
‘I can’t,’ Kelly said shortly.
‘He said you rode with my papa.’
‘That was a long time ago. I’ve forgotten.’
‘I could help you to remember,’ Matty said, considering the shape of his cone and sandpapering a little off one side. ‘Crater said he saw you the first morning you met my papa. He said Papa rode Blaze and you rode a horse called Tamsin. Crater said he saw you gallop up the mountain and he said you looked just like a prince and a princess.’ He wrinkled his nose over his wobbly cone. ‘How can you forget how to ride?’
‘What happened to Tamsin?’ Kelly asked before she could help herself.
‘Papa sold her,’ Matty said, disapproving. ‘I asked once and he got angry and yelled at me. But there’s more horses in the stables you could ride. When Papa had other ladies here they rode with him. You could ride one of their horses.’
‘Matty, when I get on a horse,’ Kelly said, concentrating on her plywood school bus, ‘I forget to be sensible.’
‘Me, too,’ Matty said cheerfully. ‘Papa says when I’m on a horse I’m a true prince. He says I have royal hands.’ He looked down at his fingers, covered liberally with craft glue. ‘What do you think he means by that?’
‘You have blue blood,’ Rafael said, trying to deflect attention from Kelly. She’d forgotten she was enjoying herself. She looked as if she wanted to bolt again, back to her books and her attic.
‘I don’t have blue blood, silly,’ Matty reproved. He held up his forefinger for inspection-it had a sticking plaster over its tip. ‘Yesterday, I tried to carve a nose cone with Uncle Rafael’s big knife,’ he told Kelly. ‘There was a man in here talking to Uncle Rafael and I borrowed his knife without asking. My finger slipped and my blood was really, really red.’
‘You didn’t tell me,’ Kelly said, startled, and thought that a real mother would have noticed.
‘Uncle Rafael says it’s our own secret,’ he said with a guilty look at Rafael. Then, clearly anxious to change the subject, he turned to Rafael. ‘Why don’t you ride horses?’
‘I just don’t,’ Rafael said flatly.
‘Crater said you used to.’
‘Crater says too much for his own good,’ Rafael growled.
‘He said you rode with your papa. But then your papa was hurt really badly on a horse. Was that when you stopped riding?’
‘I stopped riding when I decided that riding royal horses was for royals,’ Rafael said.
‘You’re royal.’
‘Yes, but only a little bit royal. Not as royal as you, and I’d rather be a toy-maker.’
‘You’ll be a more important royal even than me until I’m twenty-five. I thought that and Crater said yes.’
‘You’re too clever for your own good.’
‘Yes,’ Matty said, satisfied with Rafael’s opinion. ‘So you’ll be a very important prince for years and years. You could ride lots and lots in that time. We could get Mama another horse called Tamsin…’
‘I don’t want a horse,’ Kelly managed.
‘Why not?’ Matty demanded, astonished. ‘Papa said it’s royal to ride horses. Good horses. He said it’s in our blood. Real royals learn to ride before they walk.’
‘But I’m not royal,’ Kelly said flatly and set her bus down so hard the unset craft glue gave up its tenuous hold and it disintegrated into four separate pieces. ‘I need to go back to work.’
‘You haven’t finished your bus,’ Rafael said gently.
‘No,’ she whispered. ‘And I’m not going to. I shouldn’t be here. Discussing royal blood. Discussing royal horses. For a moment there I almost forgot who I am. Thank you, Matty, for reminding me.’
She should destroy every gown in her old suite, she thought savagely as she made her way back to her rooms. They were too much of a temptation. She should never have put on that little black dress. But there were so many more gowns, hanging there…
Waiting.
CHAPTER SEVEN
