Chapter 2

The Housekeeper

Minho followed Jinki out of the Headmaster’s study and along the corridor to the entrance hall. An enclosed brougham carriage sat outside the doors, its wheels muddy and its sides dusty from the journey that Jinki had already undertaken to the school. The crest of the Choi family had been painted on the door. Minho’s trunk had already been loaded on the back. A gaunt driver who Minho did not recognize sat in the dicky box at the front, the reins that linked him to the two horses resting limply in his hands.

“How did you know it was my trunk?”

Jinki gestured with his hand to indicate that it was nothing special. “I could see it from the window of the Headmaster’s study. The trunk was the only one sitting unattended. And besides, it was the one Appa used to have. The Headmaster was kind enough to send a boy out to tell him to load the trunk on to the carriage.” He opened the door of the carriage and gestured to Minho to enter. Instead, Minho glanced around at his school and at his fellow pupils.

“You look as if you think you’ll never see them again,” Jinki said.

“It’s not that,” Minho replied. “It’s just that I thought I was leaving for something better. Now I know I’m leaving here for something worse. As bad as this place is, this is as good as it gets.”

“It won’t be like that. Uncle Eunhyuk and Uncle Donghae are good people. Donghae is Father’s brother.”

“Then why have I never heard about them?” Minho asked. “Why has Appa never mentioned about him having a brother?”

Jinki winced almost imperceptibly. “I fear that there was a falling-out in the family. Relations were strained for a while. Umma reinitiated contact via letter some months ago. I’m not even sure Appa knows.”

“And that’s where you’re sending me?”

Jinki patted Minho on the shoulder. “If there was an alternative I would take it, believe me. Now, do you need to say goodbye to any friends?”

Minho looked around. There were boys he knew, but were any of them really friends?

“No,” he said. “Let’s go.”

The journey to Farnham took several hours. After passing through the town of Dorking, which was the closest group of houses to Deepdene School, the carriage clattered along the country lanes, beneath spreading trees, past the occasional thatched cottage or larger houses and alongside fields that were ripe with barley. The sun shone from a cloudless sky, turning the carriage into an oven despite the breeze blowing in. Insects buzzed lazily at the windows. Minho watched for a while as the world went past. They stopped for lunch at an inn, where Jinki bought some fried chicken. At some stage, Minho fell asleep. When he woke up, minutes or hours later, the brougham was still moving through the same landscape. For a while he chatted with Onew about what was happening at home, about their Mother’s fragile health, about their sister. Jinki asked after Minho’s studies, and Minho told him something about various lessons he had sat through and more about the teachers who had taught them. He imitated their voices and mannerisms, and reduced Jinki to helpless laughter by cruelty and humour of his impersonations.

After a while, there were more houses lining the road and soon they were heading through a large town, the horses’ hoofs clattering on cobbles. Leaning out of the carriage window, Minho saw what looked like a guildhall – a three-storey building, all white plaster and black beams, with a large clock hanging from a bracket outside the double doors.

“Farnham?” he guessed.

“Guildford,” Jinki answered. “Farnham is not too far away now.

The road out of Guildford led along a ridge which the land fell away on both sides, fields and woods scattered about like toys, with patches of yellow flowers spreading across them.

“This ridge is called the Hog’s Back,” Jinki remarked. “There’s a semaphore station along along here, on Pewley Hill, part of a chain that stretches from the Admiralty Building in London all the way to Portsmouth Harbour,” he paused. “Have the taught you about semaphores at school?”

Minho shook his head.

“Typical,” Jinki mumbled. “All the Latin a boy can cram into his skull, but nothing of any particular use.” He sighed heavily. “A semaphore is a method for passing messages quickly and over long distance that would take days by horse. Semaphore stations have boards on their roofs which can be seen from a distance, and which have six large holes in them which can be opened or closed by the shutters. Depending on which holes are opened or closed the board spells out different letters. A man at each semaphore station keeps watch on both the previous one in the chain and the next with a telescope. If he sees a message being spelled out he writes it down and then repeats it via his own semaphore board, and so the message travels,” he paused when he saw his dongsaeng’s face that was lacking freshness.

“Now, tell me, if there are six holes, and each can be open or closed, how many different combinations are there which could signify letters, numbers or other symbols?”

Fighting the urge to tell his brother that he had no mood for Math, Minho closed his eyes and calculated for a moment. One hole could take two states: open or closed. Two holes could take four states: open-open; open-closed; closed-open; closed-closed. Three holes…  He quickly worked through the calculation in his mind, and then saw a pattern emerging.

“Sixty-four.” He said eventually.

“Daebak.” Jinki nodded. “I’m glad to see that your mathematics, at least, is up to scratch.”

After a while he felt the brougham heading downhill, and shortly after that they made a series of turns, and the sound of the ground beneath the horses’ hoofs changed from stone to hard-packed earth. He screwed his eyes more tightly shut, trying to put off the moment when he had to accept what was happening.

The carriage stopped on gravel. The sound of birdsong and the wind blowing through tress filled the carriage. Minho could hear footsteps crunching towards them.

“Minho-ah,” Jinki said gently. “Time for reality.”

He opened his eyes.

The brougham had stopped outside the entrance to a large house. Constructed form red brick, it towered them: three storeys plus what looked like a set of rooms in the attic judging by the small windows set into the grey tiles. A footman was just about to open Jinki’s door. Minho slid across and followed his hyung out.

A woman was standing in the deep shadows at the top of three stone steps that led up to the portico in front of the main entrance. She was dressed entirely in black. Her face was thin and pinched, her lips pursed and her eyes narrowed, as if someone had substitute vinegar for her cup of tea that morning.

“Welcome to the Lee Manor; I am Mrs Eglantine” she said in a dry, papery voice. “I am the housekeeper here.” She glanced at Onew who tripped on air and then ignored him as Minho and the footman helped the taller while she continued talking. “Mr Lee will see you in the library, whenever you are ready.” Her gaze slid to Minho. “And the footman will transfer your…luggage… to your room, Master Choi. Afternoon snack will be served at three o’clock. Please be so good as to stay in your room until then.”

“I will not be staying till then,” Jinki said smoothly. “Sadly, I need to return to London.” He turned towards Minho, and there was a look in his eyes that was part sympathy, part brotherly love and part warning. “Take care, Minho-ah,” he said. “I will certainly be back to return you to school at the end of the holidays, and if I can, I’ll visit in the meantime. Be good, and take the opportunity to explore the local area. I believe that Uncle Eunhyuk has an exceptional library. Ask him if you can take advantage of the accumulated wisdom it contains. I will leave my contact details with Mrs Eglantine – if you need me, send me a telegram or write a letter.” He reached out and put a comforting hand on Minho’s shoulder. “These are good people,” he said quietly enough that Mrs Eglantine couldn’t hear him, “but, like everyone in the Choi family, they have their eccentricities. Be aware, and take care not to upset them. Write to me when you get a moment. And remember – this is not the rest of your life. Be brave.” He squeezed Minho’s shoulder.

Minho felt a bubble of anger and frustration forcing its way up its throat and choked it back. He didn’t want Onew to see him react, and he didn’t want to start his time in Lee Manor badly. Whatever he did over the next few minutes would set the tone for the rest of his stay.

He gave his hyung a warm hug, making Jinki smile warmly.

“Goodbye,” Minho said in as level a tone he could manage. “Give my love to Umma, and to Sulli. And if you hear anything of Appa, let me know.”

Jinki turned and started up the stairs towards the entrance. Mrs Eglantine met Minho’s gaze for a moment, expressionless, then turned and led Minho into the house.

Looking back, Minho saw the footman struggling to hoist the trunk on to his shoulders. When it was safely balanced he staggered up the stairs, past Minho, who followed disconsolately.

The hall was tiled in black and white, lined with mahogany, with an ornate marble staircase flowing down from the upper floors like a frozen waterfall with several paintings of religious scenes, landscapes and animals on the walls. Jinki was just passing through a doorway to the left of the staircase into a room from the brief glance Minho caught, was lined with sets of books bound in green leather. A rather handsome man in a black suit was rising from a chair that had been upholstered in a shade of leather that was perfectly matched the colour of the books behind it.

The door closed on them as they were shaking hands. The footman headed across the tiles to the bottom of the stairs, still balancing the trunk on his shoulders. Minho followed.

Mrs Eglantine was standing at the bottom of the stairs outside the library. She was staring over the top of Minho’s head, towards the door.

“Child, be aware that you are not welcome here,” she hissed as he passed.