fascinated by you even if he’d like to deny it.’ He stretched. ‘Besides, there’s no need to be uncomfortable about supernatural stuff. It’s a bit weird but then so is dark matter or string theory or whatever.’
‘I suppose,’ Lizzie said, wondering what string theory was. ‘How did you get to be so wise so young?’ she added.
‘I must have been born that way.’ Johnny shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable. ‘Anyway, I’m weird too. Millie and I were psychic.’
‘You and Amelia had a psychic connection?’ Lizzie felt surprised then wondered why she would be. Perhaps it was because Amelia’s interest in the supernatural had always seemed fake. But then, she supposed she had rather unfairly dismissed Amelia as fake in every respect. She should try to be less judgemental, especially since she hated people judging her.
‘Yeah,’ Johnny said. ‘Millie and I had a gift. We could talk to each other in our heads. We’d always done it, right from as early as I can remember.’ He shifted in his seat, clasping his hands together around the mug of chocolate. ‘Mum was totally into paranormal stuff so it never seemed strange to me, just natural, you know?’
Lizzie didn’t really know. Her experience had been very different, hiding her gift of psychometry from her father, from Kat, especially from Bill, who would probably have tried to turn her into a stage psychic if he had known about it. She had pushed it aside and kept it as a secret thing; she had been confused and almost ashamed of something that seemed so bizarre. She was already different; the child from the outrageously dysfunctional family. She didn’t want anything else marking her out.
‘It was just Millie and me, though,’ Johnny went on. ‘The other sibs couldn’t do it – Anna and Arthur, I mean. Millie and I were the only ones who could read each other’s minds. Anna was really cross that she wasn’t telepathic too.’ He was hunched forward now and the line of his shoulders was thin and tense. ‘I guess that was why Millie and I were the closest,’ he said, ‘although I love Arthur dearly. He’s the best.’ He said it quite unselfconsciously and Lizzie’s heart clenched.
He loves you too, she thought, but she didn’t say.
‘Shall we go through into the other room,’ she said, ‘it’s more comfortable there.’
Johnny got up and followed her through to the living room. Like most people he was drawn to the huge floor-to-ceiling windows like a moth to a flame. It was night outside now and the pinprick lights of London together made a tapestry of dazzling hues.
‘Wow,’ he said. ‘This is an amazing place.’
‘It’s pretty cool, isn’t it?’ Lizzie smiled. ‘I could sit looking at the view for hours.’
‘This was once the site of a royal palace, you know,’ Johnny said. ‘It was called Baynard’s Castle. The foundations are right under this building. Henry VII rebuilt it and apparently it was very beautiful. Great view of the river too; the nobility grabbed all the best locations.’
‘That figures,’ Lizzie said. These days it was the rich who could afford prime real estate in London, celebrities, bankers, power-brokers, the aristocrats of their day. ‘I could show you a picture of it,’ Johnny said. ‘It’s amazing when you imagine what all the old palaces along the river must have looked like.’ He patted his pockets. ‘Damn, I must have dropped my phone in the car.’
‘Some other time, then,’ Lizzie said. ‘History isn’t really my thing but I’d be interested to see it.’ She sat down and after a moment Johnny did the same, taking the chair opposite her, leaning forward again, clearly unable to relax.
‘This wasn’t really how I thought it would be,’ he said, after a moment. He looked up at her, half rueful, half laughing. ‘You being so nice, I mean. It makes it more difficult…’ His voice faded away. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘It’s just that I have something I need to ask you, and…’ He stopped again, frowning.
‘Why don’t you tell me what prompted you to come to find me the other day?’ Lizzie said. ‘You said you needed my help then. We could start there.’
Johnny’s face cleared. ‘Yes, OK. Thanks.’ He looked down at his clasped hands; he was gripping them together so tightly that the knuckles showed white. ‘This might sound odd,’ he said slowly, ‘but I wanted to ask you about what happened at Millie and Dudley’s wedding.’
‘Oh.’ Lizzie was taken aback. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting