Lightning Strikes (Hudson 2)

I started, describing my life in Washington, D.C., and what it was like growing up there. She listened and then suddenly, she leaned forward and tapped emphatically on the back of the driver's seat.

"Go the long way, Boggs. I'd like her to see the Gardens?'

"Very good, Mrs. Endfield," he muttered and made a quick turn.

"Life is very difficult for black people in America, I know?' she said. "Frances hasn't told you that our great-great-great-grandfather owned slaves, has she?"

Before I could reply, she shouted, "There!" and stabbed her finger in front of my face, "Kensington Gardens. Everything is in bloom.

"Lady Billings and I are going to sponsor a picnic for the orphans next month. Oh, I believe my sister said you were an orphan now. You must forget all that, my dear. Think of us as your surrogate family until.,, until whatever?' she said laughing.

"Everyone tells me I could have been an actress. I have the talent for it. Boggs, can you drive a little faster? I promised Lady Billings I would ring her up this afternoon?'

"Very good, Mrs. Endfield," he said quietly.

"You were saying?' she said, turning back to me and smiling. "Something about your sister Beni, I think. What a quaint name, Beni? Short for Beneatha? I knew a Beneatha. Oh yes, that dreadful East Ender who came around with the chimney sweep. Boggs, remember them?"

"Yes, Mrs. Endfield. I do indeed?'

"Well, what happened to them?"

"I wouldn't know, Mrs. Endfield," Boggs replied.

"No, I don't suppose you would, Boggs. Dreadful people. You could see the soot in the very pores on their faces." She shook herself as if she had gotten a bad chill. Then she looked at me again and shook her head. "I don't know why you're not hungry, my dear. The food they serve on planes is just dreadful. However, Mrs. Chester will have something for you, I'm sure, even if it's tea and a fig biscuit. We're almost home. Endfield Place?' she said grandly as if it was Tara from Gone with the Wind.

My head was spinning. A little while ago she had asked me something, but I forgot what it was myself. I really began to wonder how Grandmother Hudson and Leonora could be sisters.

"This is Holland Park," she said, "one of the nicest areas of London. My throat's suddenly so dry. I'll have a cup of tea myself when we finally get home. Thank goodness, we don't make the trip to the airport all that much, right Boggs?"

"Yes, indeed, Mrs. Endfield," he said. He was like a statue--never turning his head once during the journey.

"Well, in any case, welcome to London, dear?' she said as we turned into a cobblestone driveway toward a very large stone house.

As we circled toward the front entrance, I saw what looked like a quaint little cottage behind the house. Well-trimmed hedges lined the front of it with a small walkway in between. It looked like fresh flowers had been planted along the path. The cottage was different, sparkling like new. It was a wooden structure with Wedgwood blue cladding and pretty white shutters. I thought it looked more like a dollhouse.

"What a pretty cottage," I remarked. "Who lives in it?'

My Great-aunt Leonora turned slowly to me. Her face had changed, hardened so that her true age seeped out from under the makeup and deepened the crevices in her forehead and the lines at the corners of her mouth and

eyes.

"No one lives there," she said. "And no one is ever to go there."

Her voice was deep, almost threatening.

Then she smiled and laughed. She was obviously someone who could hop from one emotion to another in an instant.

"Welcome to Endfield Place. Welcome to your new home, my dear:"

I gazed at the grand house and beautiful grounds. Home, I thought, when will that word have any real meaning for me again?

2

Visitors in the Night

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My Great-aunt Leonora's butler walked with a