The twins ran through the back door of the house and darted down the hall to the conservatory, where breakfast was being served. Several clocks chimed the half-hour as they entered the room, red-faced and puffing.
‘Good morning, Maxim, Kensington,’ Romilly Vanden Boom greeted the pair. ‘Working on your fitness, were you? One hour and thirty minutes of exercise is impressive. Perhaps you could inspire others to be similarly motivated.’ The Science teacher and gadgets expert eyeballed Alfie as he walked past. The lad’s plate was piled high with scrambled eggs, bacon and a mountain of hash browns.
‘Morning, mith,’ he mumbled, a rasher of bacon hanging from his mouth.
‘Good heavens, Alfie. Your manners had better improve before Christmas dinner or Dame Spencer will banish you to eat in the piggery.’ Mrs Vanden Boom shook her head. ‘Although the pigs might not appreciate your penchant for bacon,’ she added with a snigger.
‘Thorry.’ Alfie grinned and carried on to his table.
Kensy cast her eyes around the room, hoping their uncle might join them, but there was no sign of him. She spotted Autumn, who already had her breakfast and was sitting at a table in the far corner with Carlos. She waved at the pair, then quickly helped herself to poached eggs on toast before making a beeline for their friends. Max waited, tray in hand, for Song to replenish the bain-marie of hash browns that Alfie had just emptied.
The butler hummed a country ditty as he worked. ‘You were out early this morning, Master Maxim,’ he commented.
The boy looked at Song, trying not to appear alarmed. ‘Kensy and I went for a run,’ he said, which wasn’t exactly a lie. Clearly, from what Mrs Vanden Boom said, some one had been monitoring their whereabouts.
‘Did you see anything interesting?’ Song asked.
‘Not really,’ Max replied, dishing two hash browns onto his plate. ‘Just sheep and fields.’
He couldn’t tell if it was his nerves, but Song’s gaze seemed to linger on him for an extra beat longer than usual. Did the butler know more than he was letting on? If so, he’d likely tell their grandmother what they’d been up to. The last thing Max had intended to do when he woke up that morning was to get into trouble. The fact that they hadn’t been sliced and diced either was a bonus, although now that Max thought about it, he’d forgotten to flick that switch back on again.
‘Do not worry, Master Maxim,’ Song said with a smile. ‘I have taken care of things and your secret is safe with me.’
Max looked at the man in astonishment. ‘Thanks,’ he whispered.
Unbeknown to the boy, he was the object of someone else’s close scrutiny. Autumn was eyeing Max from across the room. It was fast becoming a habit, despite her best efforts to conceal her feelings. ‘Where did you go this morning?’ she asked as Kensy sat down.
‘I bumped into Max in the hall and we decided to run along the cliffs,’ Kensy replied, chomping on her sourdough toast. The twins had agreed to keep this morning’s discovery to themselves until they could learn more.
‘Did you get to the lighthouse?’ Carlos asked.
Kensy nodded. ‘Uh-huh.’
‘We’ll have to show you the cave off the beach next time,’ Autumn said, exchanging a knowing grin with Carlos.
‘Have you seen your uncle this morning?’ Carlos inquired.
Kensy shook her head. ‘No, we only met him for five minutes last night and then he disappeared by the time we’d finished the debriefing.’
‘So, what did you think?’ Autumn said, resting her spoon in her bowl of porridge.
Kensy scratched her nose. ‘He certainly looks a lot like Dad and Max.’
‘Gorgeous, you mean,’ Autumn said dreamily. She turned bright red when she realised she’d said the words out loud.
Carlos made a gagging noise and Kensy almost choked. ‘Should I tell Uncle Rupert you’ve got a thing for him?’ she teased. ‘Or Max?’
‘What?’ Autumn said, panicking. ‘No, I don’t . . . They’re just nice to look at, that’s all.’
Max slid into the seat across from his sister, wondering why Carlos and Kensy were grinning at him like mad hatters, and why Autumn’s face resembled a tomato.
Carlos reached across and plucked a hash brown from Max’s plate. ‘Thanks for saving me the trip.’
‘Good morning, children,’ Romilly Vanden Boom said over the chinking of cutlery. She waited for the din to die down. ‘This morning, each of you will be working on specific skills that your teachers have identified as areas requiring improvement.’ She pressed a button on the side of her watch and an image appeared against the white wall above the buffet.
Kensy scanned it for her name. ‘Max, we’re learning to drive!’ She clenched her fists with excitement.
‘Great,’ Max said absently.
Carlos looked at the boy. ‘What’s the matter with you? Last night you were practically begging me to take you to the racetrack and now Mrs Vanden Boom might as well have said you were going to spend the morning massaging her bunions.’
‘Nothing, I’m fine,’ Max said, but in truth, his mind was still on the crypt and that article about his parents and grandparents. ‘Can’t wait.’
The previous evening, he had asked Carlos about their uncle’s challenge to him and what it all meant. The lad had told him the estate had its own racetrack – a road circuit beyond the woods – concealed in an ingenious way, but had refused to tell him how. Max would have to see it for himself. When Carlos said they raced Formula Ford cars, Max had been over the moon.
‘What have you been assigned?’ Max asked.
‘I’m on the archery range,’ Carlos griped. ‘Seriously, I can’t believe my aim with a bow and arrow is even worse than with a gun.’
Autumn had been assigned to high diving, which didn’t thrill her terribly much either. She’d recently admitted to Kensy that she was crippled by a morbid fear of heights. The girl had tried her best to hide it from her teachers, but perhaps she hadn’t concealed it as well as she’d thought.
The children were told to meet their instructors at the back door in fifteen minutes as their lessons were to be finished by lunch-time to prepare for the evening’s festivities.
‘Well, I know who’ll be having the most fun this morning,’ Autumn said with a smile. ‘And guaranteed it won’t be me or Carlos.’