Glassheart by Katharine Orton Published 2020 by Walker Books
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KATHARINE ORTON © Glassheart by Katharine Orton published 2020 by Walker Books. Cover illustration by Sandra Dieckmann GLASSHEART_9781406385236_PI_UK.indd 3 01/09/2020 12:29 11 InIn thethe cold,cold, stillstill hourshours ofof night,night, whenwhen shadowsshadows swathedswathed thethe wildwoodswildwoods andand mostmost peoplepeople werewere inin bed,bed, footstepsfootsteps creakedcreaked onon thethe landinglanding nearnear Nona’sNona’s door.door. SheShe frozefroze atat herher deskdesk –– pencilpencil poisedpoised overover herher sketchbook,sketchbook, heartheart inin mouth.mouth. HerHer wide,wide, darkdark eyeseyes glitteredglittered byby thethe lightlight ofof aa falteringfaltering candle.candle. ThisThis waswas whatwhat she’dshe’d beenbeen waitingwaiting for.for. TheThe reasonreason she’dshe’d stayedstayed awakeawake allall thisthis time.time. YetYet thethe soundsound stillstill chilledchilled herher blood.blood. SheShe heldheld herher breath.breath. Listened.Listened. AA foxfox shriekedshrieked fromfrom thethe WiltshireWiltshire wildswilds beyondbeyond herher windowwindow –– itsits crycry soso humanhuman andand eerieeerie thatthat itit mademade Nona’sNona’s skinskin prickle.prickle. There’dThere’d beenbeen foxesfoxes inin LondonLondon wherewhere sheshe waswas bornborn andand hadhad lived,lived, ofof course,course, butbut therethere theythey werewere moremore likelylikely toto rattlerattle thethe dustbinsdustbins thanthan toto howlhowl inin thatthat terrible,terrible, mournfulmournful way.way. That’sThat’s notnot whatwhat sheshe waswas listeninglistening for,for, though.though. 717 GLASSHEART_9781406385236_PI_UK.inddGLASSHEART_9781406385236_PI_UK.indd 7 7 01/09/202001/09/2020 12:29 12:29 The floorboards creaked again. Closer this time. Nona snuffed out the candle with quick fingertips. The wick hissed and sent up the sharp smell of sulphur. Putting out lights was ingrained in her from the Blitz. It had been her task, aged seven, to run around the flat with her brother,1 plunging it into darkness at the first notes of the air-raid siren; the hum of a bomber’s engine. Even in the years since the war ended, dimming lights whenever she heard something strange or out of place was more of a reflex than ever. InNow the it includedcold, anystill sudden hours sound of – night,the backfire when of shadowsa motorbike; swathed yelling the voices. wildwoods and most people wereOr in footsteps. bed, footsteps creaked on the landing near Nona’sThe door.candle’s She glowfroze had at herbrought desk –out pencil the goldpoised in overNona’s her wildsketchbook, brown hair. heart Now in mouth. the moonlight Her wide, picked dark eyesout theglittered silver ofby the the slim light scar of thata faltering ran down candle. the length This wasof one what cheek. she’d been waiting for. The reason she’d stayedA slenderawake allshadow this time. slipped Yet under the sound the crack still chilled below herher blood.bedroom She door. held herIt grew breath. bigger. Listened. Sliding across the unvarnishedA fox shrieked boards from from the one Wiltshire side to the wilds other. beyond Uncle herAntoni, window is that – its you? cry soshe human wanted and to eerie call thatout. itBut made the Nona’swords stuckskin prickle.fast in her There’d throat, been frozen foxes there. in LondonShe was wherealmost she certain was itborn was him.and hadAlmost. lived, And of yetcourse, the tread but theresounded they different were more somehow. likely to Heavier.rattle the What dustbins if it than was toan howlintruder, in that come terrible, to rob theirmournful downstairs way. That’sworkshop? not whatA shiver she wasran listeningthrough for,her though.at the thought. The lead 728 GLASSHEART_9781406385236_PI_UK.inddGLASSHEART_9781406385236_PI_UK.indd 7 8 01/09/202001/09/2020 12:29 12:29 and solder they kept down there, for the making of stained-glass windows, would fetch a good price on the black market. Nona decided it was best to stay quiet. If she called out and it was Uncle Antoni, she might never discover why he’d been creeping1 around in the night so often lately. The shadow withdrew across Nona’s floor and the footsteps passed her room, heading towards the stairs. That meant the person must have come from InUncle’s the roomcold, just still across hoursthe landing. of night,So it had when to be shadowshim. Didn’t swathed it? She the channelled wildwoods a slow, and deep most breath people to werecalm inher bed, nerves. footsteps Besides, creaked why onwould the alanding thief be near up Nona’shere, where door. the She lead froze and atsolder her deskwasn’t? – pencil poised overNona her sketchbook, tucked the heart pencil in mouth.behind Herone wide,ear, easeddark eyesherself glittered silently by out the of lighther chair of a andfaltering snuck candle. towards This the wasdoor. what She wasshe’d quick been andwaiting light for.on herThe feet reason and knewshe’d stayedwhere awaketo tread all to this avoid time. making Yet the a sound noise. still Of chilledall the herkids blood. from herShe oldheld building, her breath. she’d Listened. been the best at tag wheneverA fox shriekedthey’d played from it the on theWiltshire common. wilds Practically beyond herunbeatable window –– asideits cry from so human her brother, and eerie of thatcourse. it made But Nona’sthat cramped skin prickle. building There’d in London, been andfoxes all inthose London kids, wherewere gone she now.was bornEveryone and was.had Exceptlived, offor course, Nona. but thereOnce they wereat her more bedroom likely to door, rattle theNona dustbins timed than the toopening howl ofin itthat with terrible, the steady mournful thud and way.creak That’s of footfall. not whatShe peeredshe was into listening the dimlyfor, though. lit hallway. Moonlight 739 GLASSHEART_9781406385236_PI_UK.inddGLASSHEART_9781406385236_PI_UK.indd 7 9 01/09/202001/09/2020 12:29 12:29 shone through the small, curtainless window above the stairs, made from a hotchpotch of glass offcuts. It cast the bare floorboards in reds, blues and greens. Even though Uncle Antoni had thrown it together from scraps, it was still beautiful. As if he couldn’t help but be a master craftsman,1 even when using the broken bits that other people threw away. The light shifted. A figure slid beneath the colours. The sudden movement lodged the seed of a cry in Nona’s throat, but it was Uncle all right. The Inrich the shades cold, glided still over hishours skin, hisof clothes, night, before when he shadowscame out swathedthe other the side wildwoods just at the andfoot mostof the people stairs. wereHe turned in bed, a corner,footsteps and creaked was out on of thesight. landing near Nona’sEven door. from She the frozeway heat walked,her desk all – hunchedpencil poised over, overNona her could sketchbook, tell he wasn’t heart inhis mouth. usual, Herbreezy wide, self. dark He eyescould glittered only be byin the griplight of of a adream faltering … couldn’tcandle. Thishe? was Forwhat as longshe’d as been Nona waiting had lived for. with The Uncle reason Antoni, she’d stayedhe’d been awake a terrible all this sleeper.time. Yet It thewas sound the only still timechilled he hertalked blood. about She theheld war: her breath.during Listened.nightmares in sleep- lacedA foxPolish shrieked – his frommother the tongue Wiltshire – that wilds were beyond loud herenough window to wake– its cry Nona so human from andher eerieown. that He’d it madebeen Nona’sknown toskin sleepwalk prickle. too,There’d in his been bumbling foxes kindin London of way. whereOnce she’dshe wascaught born him and downstairs had lived, in ofhis course,nightgown, but theretrying they to eat were a candle.more likely She’d to taken rattle it the out dustbins of his hands than toand howl sent inhim that back terrible, upstairs mournful to bed. But way. this? That’s It wasn’t not whatthe same. she was He listeningstrode with for, a though. purpose. A direction. 1074 GLASSHEART_9781406385236_PI_UK.inddGLASSHEART_9781406385236_PI_UK.indd 7 10 01/09/202001/09/2020 12:29 12:29 As if he’d been called – and had no choice but to go. The thought made her skin prickle. The night before last she was sure she’d heard him speaking to someone. But they lived alone. Just him and Nona. Her heart pounded as she edged onto the landing. She couldn’t get left behind.1 She couldn’t risk him seeing her either. If he did she might never find out what was going on. “Here we go, then,” she said to herself, rubbing the goose pimpled skin of one arm. She started down the stairs, treading in unusual places Inon thethe boards cold, in thestill hope hours of avoiding of thenight, creaky when spots. shadowsThe darknessswathed deepenedthe wildwoods at the footand ofmost the peoplestairs. wereThe sharp,in bed, warm footsteps smell creakedof linseed on oil the flooded landing Nona’s near Nona’ssenses. door.Everything She froze smelled at herof deskthe thick, – pencil golden poised oil overdown her here, sketchbook, because it heart was thein mouth. main ingredient Her wide, in dark the eyescement glittered for their by the stained-glass light of a faltering window candle. making, This to waskeep what the mixture she’d been nice waitingand runny. for. It The was reasonone of thoseshe’d stayedscents thatawake seeped all this into time. everything Yet the and sound lingered still chilled – even herand blood. especially She onheld a herperson’s breath. skin. Listened. AOutside fox shrieked the wind from picked the Wiltshireup – moaning wilds throughbeyond herthe windownearby woods – its cry and so causinghuman andthuds eerie and that whistles it made in Nona’sthe old, skindraughty prickle. house. There’d A flood been of foxes coolness in London stroked wherethe back she of wasNona’s born neck and as hadshe squintedlived, of into course, the dark, but therebut her they eyes were hadn’t more adjusted likely to yet. rattle She the couldn’t dustbins see than her touncle howl now.