Earthly Delights by Kerry Greenwood Page A

delightful Horatio, by the way? Give him my best regards.’
    ‘Time for me to go,’ I said. ‘Can I turn on your TV?’
    Professor Dion shuddered. ‘Just find me my glasses,’ he said. ‘Thank you for a lovely evening, my dear.’
    I found his glasses and let myself out. I returned to feed Horatio and the others and put myself to bed after checking that all the locks were secure. I hadn’t done that since the day I came to Insula and it was a little disappointing. That might account for the fact that I woke bright and early at two am and spent the rest of the night on the couch with Horatio, watching a very old horror movie. The whole building was silent. Insula was built with thick walls and internal partitions so unless someone is having a very loud party or a very loud fight, you wouldn’t know there was anyone else in the place with you. At least, I reflected, it was now Friday. After I did this morning’s baking I got two days off.
    It wasn’t worth opening on the weekend in my bit of the city. Most of the action moved across the river to the huge Southbank complex, with its gambling halls and restaurants and street theatre. I was in the working district and only the workaholic, the junkies and the wandering madmen came here on the weekends. And they didn’t buy much bread.
    It had been a wise choice for my own sanity. Baker’s hours are too unsociable to do them all the time. This way, once I finished on Friday, I at least got to sleep in two mornings and didn’t need to do the Monday baking until Monday morning. When Grandma Chapman had been alive I used to visit her every Saturday. Now I did some gentle shopping, visited a gallery, saw a movie. I had largely lost all my friends when James and I broke up two—no, nearly three years ago now. I didn’t really miss them. I would doubtless make more friends when I needed to. At the moment Horatio and I were rather enjoying being alone.
    Though not at three am on a very dark night. Watching avery spooky movie. The vampire’s mouth opened and he had two thin teeth like hypodermic needles. He had no hair, cat’s slit pupils and fingernails like a Mandarin. Very scary. I was making Horatio nervous and he was making me nervous and finally I got up and gave us both a nice drink of milk. He had his in a saucer and I drank mine, microwave-heated and Ovaltined, from a cup.
    ‘Perhaps
Nosferatu
was not a wise choice of movie,’ I said to Horatio. He licked up the last of the milk and blinked in agreement. ‘Even if it is a triumph of German Expressionism. In fact, since I am sure I just saw something dark flick past that window, I vote we go back to bed and pull the covers over our heads,’ I said to him.
    He beat me to it. Four paws are faster than two, especially if the two have loose slippers on. We fell into an uneasy doze until the alarm clock alerted me to the fact that Friday morning had officially arrived.

 
     
     
     

CHAPTER SIX
     
    I baked, I fed, I washed, I did all the usual stuff. I didn’t feel very imaginative so I made lots of French knots, plaits, twists and baguettes. My muffins were blueberry. I hacked up the herbs for the herb rolls and made the large order of rye bread for the restaurant. Saturday is always a restaurant’s busiest day. If it isn’t, the restaurant is not going to be there for long, so eat while you may. I remember one very experienced restaurant owner talking about her children. She fervently hoped that they didn’t follow in her footsteps. She wanted them to have a nice job, like lawyer or teacher or labourer or gardener, where they had scheduled meal breaks and they got to sit down occasionally. Selling food for a living, she told me, was a mug’s game. And she was right, but it does have its compensations.
    Strangely, when it was time, I didn’t actually want to open the street door. It must have been a leftover from that movie. I wondered if something dark and horrible was waiting outside. But the valiant