My Favourite Part

41: kindred

"Come in, Evangeline," Kitty calls out from behind the oak door before I've even finished knocking.

Her attire is the most casual I've seen her in – 'casual' being relative. Her outfit is distinctly alpine chalet, with fitted jeans that are undoubtedly designer, and her even more fitted sweater – hot pink and distinguished by the small but distinctive high-end logo stitched on in one corner. She's fiddling with something at her desk, but she's stood with her slender back to me, so I can't quite see what it is, and stand by the door awkwardly like a handmaiden summoned.

"Sit," she says. Without turning to face me, she tilts her head towards two velvet armchairs to her left.

"Oh, right, thank you," I blurt, scurrying and sinking into the chair much larger than me.

"Tea?" She asks, although I'm certain the question was a rhetorical one. Sat here, I can see her hands, and smell the rich camomile scent. She's already pouring steaming tea from a large floral pot into two matching ceramic teacups.

"Sure, I'd love some."

Kitty keeps pouring without another word. The steady sound of the streaming tea is loud, but not quite loud enough, and I'm certain this is the most naked silence I've ever endured. Am I sweating?

"Something has come to my attention, Evangeline."

She finally turns around, extending the ceramic cup to me, and I lean in, handling the delicate decorated saucer with more care than anything I've ever held. I hold my breath – not solely for fear of spilling the tea. Kitty doesn't sit opposite me, although the chairs are sat opposite each other interrogation-style. Once she's given me my cup, she retreats to the table and leans against it, stirring her tea with a slim, golden stirrer. Watching feels vaguely like being put under a spell.

"It's come to my attention that my son is rather fond of you. Both of my sons in fact, as it appears," she speaks without raising her eyes from the rotating stirrer, her movement unnervingly mechanical, but when she finishes, her gaze snaps to mine. Then, down to the untouched cup of black tea balanced on my lap. She smirks, her lips stretch thinly to one side.

"You can take a sip, Evangeline. I'm not trying to poison you, if that's why you're so hesitant."

"No, I- of course not," I laugh, raising the china to my lips. I watch her take her sip before I take mine, though.

She exhales, and the steam winds from her mouth. "Pip seems to think I harbour some sort of resentment towards you. I don't. I apologise," her lips barely part to let the word pass, "if I made you feel at all uncomfortable last night."

Her reluctant apology comes while she stares into her tea, and I find myself marvelling at Pip's powers of persuasion, biting down on my inside cheek to stop my own smirk from spreading. Oh, Pip.

Mum says you should never say 'it's fine' when it isn't, so I say "thank you, Kitty" instead.

"But that isn't why I wanted to speak to you."

And the nerves are back. "No?" I say.

"I won't mince my words, Evangeline," she takes the seat opposite me, with crossed ankles and an uncharacteristically sincere expression, "you seem like a smart girl. You must be for Auby to have become so infatuated in such a short space of time."

Her word choice makes me blush, but there's no accompanying warm smile that tells me she meant to compliment me. Her frank look makes me shift in my plushy seat.

"There's a very specific... path laid out for Auby. A very specific course that he really has no choice but to follow."

"A specific path?" I question. Dear God, is this the part of the movie where she tells me that Eric's the crown prince of some small European nation?