Bookclub

Lucia adjusted the hat on her head, the white gown fitting perfectly. She smiled, cupping her face as a blush crept up her cheeks.

Today, she and her grandmother were visiting town for her grandmother's book club meeting. Lucia was excited about the outing.

Though Grandma Teresa claimed to be a book club member, Lucia had never seen her read a single book. Grandma Teresa admitted, with a twinkle in her eye, that she mostly attended for the "expensive tea and food, sovereigns, and monthly giveaways" the club offered.

"Grandma Teresa suddenly called from downstairs, and Lucia hurried down the stairs."

Lucia reached the bottom step and stared at her grandmother with wide eyes. Grandma Teresa was humming, admiring herself in a hand mirror. Then, with a dramatic flourish, she slammed the mirror shut and turned to face her granddaughter.

Lucia tried hard not to laugh. With her face a bright red and sporting a generous amount of purple eyeshadow, Grandma Teresa looked like… well, a clown.

"How do I look, my dear?" Grandma Teresa asked, striking a pose.

Lucia shook her head disapprovingly.

Grandma Teresa frowned, offended.

"You're too young to understand," she declared, dismissing Lucia's opinion.

Lucia slipped on her shoes as she walked down the hallway. Mr. Purrfect suddenly appeared, rubbing against her legs and purring loudly.

Lucia pouted. She was still annoyed with Mr. Purrfect for climbing the tree last week. Hesitantly, she picked him up and began to stroke his fur.

Her grandmother watched the interaction with a smile.

"Grandma, can we take Mr. Purrfect with us?" Lucia asked sweetly.

Without a second thought, Grandma Teresa turned away, searching for her shawl.

The cat stays," her grandmother declared, grabbing her shawl.

Lucia pouted. "Mr. Purrfect is a good cat," she argued, raising the cat up as it meowed in Grandma Teresa's face.

Her grandmother sighed, looking away. "That cat is a devil outside these doors, too old for his tantrums. Now put him down and let's go," she insisted.

Lucia gently placed the cat down, patting its head as she followed her grandmother.

As they reached the front door, Grandma Teresa turned to Lucia and placed both hands on her shoulders. "Lucia?" she smiled.

"Yes, Grandma?" Lucia blinked.

"When we get to the book club, remember to greet everyone nicely and behave properly," her grandmother smiled.

Lucia nodded. "And if anyone asks you who you are, tell them you are a relative of mine who came to live with me, but don't mention your mother's name or that you're from Aldreden," her grandmother said, her grip tightening on Lucia's shoulders.

Lucia winced. Her grandmother noticed her discomfort and gently released her.

Lucia nodded, and they both left.

...

They stepped out of the carriage as Grandma Teresa fanned herself vigorously. The heat had completely melted her makeup.

She kept muttering angrily, but to Lucia's relief, the makeup was gone.

They stood before a magnificent mansion – an imposing building unlike anything Lucia had ever seen. Her jaw dropped in awe.

"Stop gawking at it like that," her grandmother chided as they walked towards the entrance.

Lucia followed closely, carrying the basket of biscuits her grandmother had prepared for the meeting. The delicious aroma filled the air.

They entered the luxurious house. The water fountain in the courtyard was a breathtaking sight. Children played in the garden, and Lucia's eyes sparkled as she saw other children her age.

Sculptures and paintings adorned the walls. "Whoever owns this place must be incredibly wealthy," Lucia thought to herself.

They entered the clubroom.

"Teresa!" some of the women exclaimed, greeting Grandma Teresa warmly.

They were all heavily made up, just like Grandma Teresa had been earlier. Lucia tried not to laugh. It was like she had stepped into a gathering of clowns.

"Who is that little pumpkin behind you? What lovely eyes!" one of the women gushed.

"One of my relatives. She'll be staying with me," Grandma Teresa replied, offering the basket of biscuits.

"She's beautiful!" "Such a gorgeous girl!"

The compliments flowed as Lucia sat beside Grandma Teresa. Lucia smiled at her grandmother's delighted expression. She had never seen the old lady so happy.

A woman stood in the center of the room, tapping a glass with a spoon to gain their attention.

"What's with all the commotion, ladies?" she asked, striking a pose.

Her brown hair cascaded down her back, and her almond-shaped eyes scanned the room. She was undeniably beautiful, Lucia thought. Her red dress was perfectly complemented by a string of pearls.

"Mrs. Teresa has brought a relative," one of the ladies announced.

The beautiful woman's eyes landed on Lucia. 

She walked towards them, captivated by the little girl, especially her eyes.

"Greetings, ma'am," Lucia greeted politely.

But the woman arrogantly flipped her hair and turned to Grandma Teresa. "What a lovely girl she is," she remarked, "but the book club is not the place for such discussions. I hope you understand, Teresa."

The other ladies fell silent. It was clear that Mrs. Evans was a rude woman. Lucia wondered why Mrs. Evans addressed her grandmother so formally, without any honorific.

"Little girl," Mrs. Evans called, and Lucia turned. "You can excuse us now. Perhaps you can explore the house or join the other children outside," she suggested, gesturing towards the garden.

Lucia stood up and walked outside. She could feel her grandmother's gaze following her.

The children were playing in groups – some girls braiding each other's hair, while the boys engaged in a boisterous game of football. Lucia sighed. She had never played with other children her age. What if she did something embarrassing?

She looked around for a quiet spot. Perhaps she could read her diary. The idea brought a smile to her lips.

The children barely noticed her as she passed. She walked towards the large trees, their sprawling branches offering welcome shade from the scorching sun.

She found a secluded spot and sat down, ready to read. But then, she heard a sound that made her freeze. It sounded like a growl. Goosebumps erupted on her skin.

She heard it again, but this time it sounded like someone crying. Her innocent heart wouldn't allow her to simply ignore it.

She cautiously walked towards the sound. The wind rustled through the leaves. Her small feet carefully navigated the maze of tree roots that covered the ground.

"Hello?" she called out softly, approaching the source of the sound. As she drew closer, she was certain it was indeed a child crying.

Her foot caught on a root, and she stumbled.

"Don't come closer!" a boy's voice warned her.

Lucia squinted, trying to see him. A small boy, crouched beneath the massive roots, was sobbing uncontrollably. He had bright red hair and was frantically waving her away.

What was he doing so far from the house?

Lucia carefully extricated her foot and slowly approached him. "Are you hurt? I just want to know if you're okay," she said gently.

The boy hesitated, then shook his head, swaying his red head from side to side.

His swaying red hair reminded her of Mr. Purrfect. Lucia smiled and continued to approach him. She placed her diary back in her bag.

Finding a suitable spot, she sat down beside him and pulled out the biscuits from the basket. "Would you like some?" she offered, holding out a biscuit.

He shook his head.

Lucia smiled and took a bite of her biscuit, making exaggerated chewing noises. "Delicious!" she exclaimed, smacking her lips.

"Are they poisoned?" the boy asked, his eyes widening.

Lucia leaned closer. "If they were poisoned, wouldn't I be dead already after eating one?" she asked playfully.

She offered him another biscuit, and this time he hesitantly accepted.

They ate in silence for a while.

"What's your name?" Lucia finally asked.

"Peter," he replied. "And yours?"

"Lucia," she said.

Peter scoffed. "Funny name," he commented.

Lucia shrugged. What was so funny about her name?

An awkward silence followed. Then, Peter spoke.

"Mother says it's alright to cry, as long as you don't let others see it. It's a sign of weakness," Peter said, his voice trembling. "And now you've seen me cry, you won't go telling people, will you?" He looked at her with wide, tear-filled eyes.

Lucia flinched. Why would a little boy be so worried about such a trivial thing? Everyone in this town was truly strange. She placed a hand on her chest. "I promise to tell no one about you," she said, her face serious.

Peter stared at her for a moment, then burst into laughter. "Why are you laughing?" Lucia asked, pouting her lips.

He wiped away the tears from his laughter and placed a hand on her shoulder for support. "Why did you place your hand on your chest like that? Do it again!" he teased.

Lucia flushed. "That's promising on your heart that you wouldn't tell another soul. Where I come from, we do so," she said, furious at his continuous teasing.

He stopped. "Where do you come from? You're not from around here, are you?" he said, a glint in his eyes.

Lucia gasped, her hands covering her mouth. She remembered Grandma Teresa warning her not to tell anyone she was from Aldreden.

Peter sighed. "There's no need if you don't want to tell me. Anyone could tell that you haven't seen anyone with silky hair like yours, and your eyes don't look like you're from here," he said as he pulled out a flute.

Lucia was stunned as he played the flute. He was smooth, in fact, she had never heard anyone play this smoothly.

As he stopped, catching his breath, Lucia clapped. Peter looked at her and smiled. "You play so very well for a boy," she said.

He scoffed. "I'm nowhere near as good as my father. He mastered three instruments flawlessly, and Mother speaks dozens of languages and reads a lot of books. I ran away from home today because I was embarrassed," Peter said, looking down.

Lucia blinked. He somehow looked like the lady from the book club. "Is your mother the president of the book club?" she asked.

He nodded sheepishly, fondling the flute in his hand. "Cheer up, you can't possibly learn it all right now. You're just a boy. And your parents are adults," Lucia smiled.

Peter watched her as he smiled. "You're really not from around here. People here don't do or say good things. Like Mother says, there's no room for mistakes," he said.

"But my grandmother isn't like the others. She's never treated me differently," she said, memories of the incident with the cat the other day tugging at her. She waved it away.

"She might just be pretending. Most old ladies are the cruellest. When they are all old and frail with orphaned grandchildren, they usually sell them off to the government," he said.

"And get large sums of money. Other than that, the rich treat the poor badly in Portivan. The worst is when a witch is caught..."

Lucia gulped at his last words. Could her grandmother sell her off? No, Grandma Teresa would need her to do chores now and then. There's no way she could give her out. Her mind confidently said.

She stood up and stretched her hand for Peter. "Let's go back to the house," she smiled. Peter contemplated, his eyes darting between her and her stretched hand. He reached for it, and she drew him up.

" let me show you around ouransuon" he said tugging her hand

"Okay" Lucia said, she smiled as they walked out, would Peter really be her first friend.