Dream a Little Dream (Silber #1)

“Really, Florence, this time you’re going too far,” Ernest was ranting down on the first floor.

“It’s my eighteenth birthday, and I want this party to be special!” his daughter spat back. “I can’t celebrate it in this house, not under the same roof as those … those monsters!”

“That’s us,” whispered Mia.

“So what do you have against holding the party at Granny’s house?” Florence went on. “She offered to have it there herself, she has plenty of room, and she’d love to help with the preparations! It’s all for the best so far as you’re concerned, Dad—remember what this house looked like after our last birthday party?”

“But that’s not your reason,” said Ernest.

“No,” Florence admitted at once. “I just want to celebrate my eighteenth birthday in a place where those creatures—”

“That’s us,” whispered Mia again.

“—where those creatures aren’t welcome!”

“Florence Cecilia Elizabeth Spencer!” Ernest sounded really angry, listing all Florence’s names like that. “I let you get away with a good deal, but this…”

“What about it?” snapped Florence. “You can’t force us to have our party here. It’s bad enough to have you making us live here with those foul fiends.”

I almost whispered, “That’s us,” myself this time. Foul fiends? What century did she think we were living in?

At that moment Lottie came running down from the very top of the house, trying to get past us. “I overslept!” she gasped. “The first time in five years I—”

“Shhhh!” Mia barred Lottie’s way and put a hand over her mouth.

“Muft fqueeth grapefruit!” said Lottie indistinctly, trying to free herself, but Mia wasn’t letting go.

“No one down there is agitating for grapefruit juice right now, believe me!” I whispered, and then Lottie stopped struggling, squished herself in between us, and leaned over the banisters herself, straining her ears.

The argument in the kitchen was still going on.

“Grayson, say something!” Florence demanded.

Yes, exactly, I thought. Say something, Grayson.

“I can’t say I fancy having a birthday party at Granny’s,” said Grayson. As he was the only one not shouting, we had to lean far over the banisters to hear him. Luckily the kitchen door was open. “You can’t even turn around there without knocking something valuable over. Not a very cool location, if you ask me.”

“Absolutely,” Mia whispered.

“Eavesdropping isn’t right,” Lottie whispered back. “We ought to let them know we’re here.”

“No way!” said Mia and I at the same time.

“Of course we’ll clear Granny’s china collection away first,” Florence was protesting in the kitchen. “And I’m not asking you, anyway. I made up my mind about this ages ago.”

“Florence Cecilia Eli…” Obviously Ernest couldn’t think of anything else to say.

By now Mom had joined us, and was leaning over the banisters herself a few steps higher up. Her face showed that she was suffering pangs of conscience, but she clearly didn’t dare go any farther down the stairs with Florence shouting in that shrill voice. Or was she developing unsuspected mother-lioness instincts and staying with her babies to defend them tooth and claw if necessary?

“Oh yes?” Now we could hear Grayson perfectly well. “If that’s so, then we’ll just have separate birthday parties, little sister: you have yours at Granny’s house and I’ll have mine here. And we’ll see which of us gets more guests!”

There was a brief silence. Then Florence cried furiously, “You wouldn’t do a thing like that to me!”

“Yes, I would. You’re just being silly.”

“Me, silly? Did I go slinking out of the house by night to destroy a cultural monument?”

At this point, Mom gave us her familiar look, the one that said, Now see what you’ve done. So much for her mother-lioness instincts—she didn’t have any.

“Oh, Florence, do shut up,” said Grayson in the kitchen. “I’m sick and tired of all this fuss. It was only a tree, for God’s sake!” He came marching out of the kitchen so fast that we didn’t have time to take cover.

We must have been an odd sight, all four of us hanging over the banisters side by side (only Buttercup was missing, but she’d probably been sitting in the kitchen beside Ernest’s chair for some time, waiting for the slice of cold roast beef he usually gave her). However, Grayson just glanced wearily up at us and then went to the coat stand to put on his jacket.

“Now see what you’ve done, Dad!” snapped Florence in the kitchen. The mixture of fury and tears in her voice was perfectly calibrated. Could you learn to do a thing like that? “You’ve managed to drive a wedge between us. Between me and my twin.”

Now she too came rushing out of the kitchen, and with great presence of mind, we abandoned our listening position and acted as if we were all just that minute coming downstairs. In the process, unfortunately, Lottie and Mia bumped their heads together.