“Don't worry, Mr Deacon,” Melody says with confidence. “I'm sure I can bat away his unwanted advances with ease. I didn't come to the island to fall in love.
“And why did you come to the island?”
“To write my book, of course. You know that.”
“Quite.”
Melody is nervous at that last exchange. Does he know who I am? But she quickly dismisses this as paranoia. Will Deacon has no reason to believe that she is there to find out what happened to her father.
“Shall we?” Melody says, pointing to the door.
“Indeed,” Will says, opening the door.
Melody walks alongside Will to the top of the stairs, their footsteps echoing and merging together.
“It is pleasing to have you with us, Miss Winter,” Will says quietly. “I feel you will do wonders for our Rebecca.”
Reaching the staircase, they descend. At the bottom, Melody catches out of the corner of her eye a cheerful Rebecca playing with a new doll with strawberry blond curls and a lime green dress. Clearly, it's one that Uncle Maximilian has just given her.
And there he is, too.
“Oh... And who is this treat?” Maximilian says with a broad, enchanting smile. He is as tall as Will, leaner still, and his black hair carries with it a dishevelled look not at home with what Melody thinks is his economic standing.
Keeping Will's warning in mind, Melody does not give him an inch. “I'm no treat, Mr Deacon,” she says firmly. “I am Rebecca's new teacher. Miss Winter. Nice to meet you.”
“I am only joking,” Maximilian teases, a slight grin forming on the side of his mouth. Next, his chest inflates proudly as he says, “Excuse my shabby appearance, I've been running around keeping the family empire going while Brother here mopes around.” At these words, Melody hears Will sigh next to her.
Maximilian then steps forward and shakes Melody's hand. He gives her a strange look for a moment, almost as though he recognizes her. But Melody once again feels she is looking for something that is not there. A moment passes after Maximilian makes his apologies, then he disappears upstairs to have a bath. In the wake of his abrupt departure, Melody concludes that he probably needs it after traveling all day.
“I look forward to getting to know you, Miss Winter,” Maximilian says from some unseen place upstairs. “And don't let my brother's stiffness bore you, you can call me Max. None of this Mr Deacon nonsense.” A loud slam of a wooden door then sounds and it appears Maximilian is gone, though Melody wonders how much can be heard from his room given how far voices carry in the house. It is the perfect place for eavesdropping, and Melody tries to take a mental note of this in case it proves useful during her investigation.
But for now, she must turn her attention to her new job as a teacher at Deacon House.
“Is this your new doll?” Melody says, turning to Rebecca, who is touching her doll’s hair gently in a reassuring way.
Rebecca holds the doll in her hands, its blue eyes and strawberry blond hair are a beautiful compliment to Rebecca's red tartan dress. “Yes, Miss Winter,” she says. “Uncle Max always brings me a present after one of his trips.”
Will steps forward and opens the palm of his right hand. “You can play with the doll later, Rebecca. Please give it to me, for now.”
“No! I want to play with it!” Rebecca says, forcefully, her bottom lip quivering.
“Remember what I said before today: No distractions. You must go with Miss Winter here and have your first lesson. After that, the doll will be waiting for you and you can...”
Rebecca moves backwards in defiance as only a child can. “No, Uncle Will! I want my doll!”
“Listen to me, now!” Will's voice rises in volume, and to Melody it seems as though it is strong enough to shake the very foundations of Deacon House.
Rebecca's eyes blink involuntarily at the booming noise. She steps back, and Melody is shocked to see an expression of fear flicker across her face.
Then a voice returns from the stairwell above.
“Let her have the doll, for goodness sake, Man,” Maximilian says, suddenly reappearing in front of a large, looming and grim oil painting which dominates the staircase. “I can hear you shouting from the other wing.”
“Stay out of this, Max,” Will says sharply. “Rebecca is my responsibility.”
“You don't have to be a bully about it.” Maximilian lets out a displeased grunt and then disappears again to some unseen part of the house, clearly not wishing to engage with his brother any longer.
“Uncle Max understands...” Rebecca says, quietly playing with her new doll and stroking its hair.
Will opens his mouth to speak once more, no doubt to chastise the child, but Melody steps forward in anticipation of this and crouches down in front of Rebecca. She reaches out and touches the doll's pretty green dress.
“Have you thought of a name for her, yet?” Melody says in a soothing tone.
“Sarah,” Rebecca whispers quietly, her face is sad as though anticipating losing the doll, no matter how temporarily. Even an hour is a lifetime to a child that age, and to be given a present only for it to be taken away seems unfair through juvenile eyes. This, Melody understands.
“That's a pretty name,” Melody says. “I think Sarah looks like she will be a most excellent student. In fact, I would be very happy to teach both you and Sarah together upstairs in the study, as long as you can persuade Sarah to listen and be polite. What do you say?”
Suddenly, Rebecca's glum expression turns into a wide smile. “You mean it!?”
Rebecca nods. “Of course, as long as your Uncle Will doesn't mind?”
Will clears
