“Ouch,” said Mia reproachfully.
Florence didn’t favor any of us with a glance, but simply shot by on her way upstairs. We could hear the bathroom door slam and the sound of the key turning in the lock.
So at long last, the way to the coffee machine was clear.
Or no, not quite clear yet. Grayson was still standing by the coat stand. My guilty conscience forced me to stop in front of him while Mom and Lottie went into the kitchen.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured, and I meant it. I was sorry we’d sawed Mr. Snuggles down. I was sorry they were quarreling because of us. And I was sorry that Grayson looked so unhappy.
“What for?” he snapped at me, sounding more like his twin sister than he presumably thought.
“Well, for being such monsters, creatures, and foul fiends,” Mia replied instead of me.
I was pretty sure that Grayson didn’t mean to, but the grim expression on his face gave way to a spontaneous smile. Relieved, I smiled back. He abruptly pulled up the zipper of his jacket and put a knitted cap on his head. He was the only one of us to cycle to school in the morning, come rain or shine. Ernest had been going the long way around on his way to work so as to drop Florence, Mia, and me off at Frognal Academy. But since Florence had been putting as much distance as possible between herself and us, Mia and I had taken to going by bus instead. After all, we didn’t want the poor girl having to rush out of a moving vehicle just to escape our presence.
The next bus would leave in ten minutes, and if we wanted to catch it and get to school on time, we’d have to hurry.
Grayson had seen me look at the big clock on the wall, and his smile got wider. “Too bad, the foul, fiendish, monstrous creature will have to do without her coffee today,” he said.
“Oh, that’s okay,” I said. “I have plenty of adrenaline running through my veins to keep me going.”
Which was true, but unfortunately the effect lasted only until lessons began. I had great difficulty in staying awake during Mrs. Lawrence’s French lesson. As an experiment, I put my head down on my arms. I’d just close my eyes for a moment. Now would be the perfect time for a little nap. I was left alone at last. That would be the solution: sleep during the day when everyone else was awake. Pure relaxation.
“Have you heard yet where Florence and Grayson are having their birthday party?” Persephone wasn’t interested in Mrs. Lawrence’s explanation of the passé composé tense either. She was more in the mood for one of those whispered monologues that she called “conversation,” and that never came to an end until Mrs. Lawrence was standing in front of us, spitting nails and accusing me of disturbing the peace. How I hated that! “It’s going to be at their grandmother’s house. According to Secrecy, anyway.” Of course, Secrecy knew everything, as usual. Sometimes it was almost a blessing not to have a smartphone. (And I probably wouldn’t have one for quite some time, but I didn’t go so far as to feel grateful to Mrs. Spencer for that.)
“I suppose that means you and Mia won’t be coming. I mean, you’re banned from their grandmother’s house.” A theatrical mini-pause for effect, and then she went on. “I hope you won’t mind if I go all the same, will you? Grayson is sure to ask Gabriel, and when Gabriel asks me if I’ll be there, too, I can’t very well say no … and yesterday I saw that lovely Missoni skirt, perfect for a party, not a typical Missoni striped skirt but dark blue, not boring old navy blue but kind of stronger, not royal blue, though, more of a dark ocean blue, it’s difficult to describe, maybe you can come and look at it again with me tomorrow, they have super dresses as well but you won’t be needing one if you’re not going to the party, on the other hand one can always use a new dress, and my sister says Missoni clothes are sort of timeless capital investments.…”
Persephone chattered and chattered or whispered and whispered. It was like sitting next to a defective compressed air system. But after a while I got used to it. Out in front was Mrs. Lawrence’s monotonous but tuneful French, beside me was Persephone’s soporific whisper—my head sank to my arms again.
“… was caught? Henry had to go and fetch him from the police station.”
Suddenly I was wide awake. “What? Who?”
Persephone looked at me, shaking her head. “You don’t have to tell me if you’d rather not. But I’d love to know if that’s true—I mean, it seems odd to me, a boy of twelve stealing expensive perfume.”
“What boy of twelve?”
She stared at me, wide-eyed. “Oh goodness, you don’t know about it, do you? Hasn’t Henry told you?”
“No,” I said. I didn’t mind if I was showing my ignorance, I just wanted to know who Persephone was talking about.