“Oh, come on, it’s fun,” said Mia, hopping to another puddle. “And it helps you to work off your aggression.”
She looked challengingly at me, and for a moment I wondered whether it might be a test. By way of an experiment, I crunched the layer of ice under my feet to pieces, and I had to admit that Mia was right. This was as satisfying an activity as bursting the blisters of Bubble Wrap. And who was going to tell me what I was too old to do and what I wasn’t? For a while we hopped from puddle to puddle like girls possessed, and for the first time that week, I could really laugh again. Not the pretend, Clone-Liv laughter that I’d been practicing, but a genuine Liv laugh.
Only when we realized that someone was watching us did we stop. But it was only Grayson on his bike, staring at us in a slightly disconcerted way and looking as if he could do with a bit of therapy to work off his own aggression.
“Did the team lose?” asked Mia, not very sympathetically.
“Don’t ask,” he growled, getting off his bicycle and pushing it across the road.
The restaurant was directly opposite. It was a very classy joint, with a red-and-gold awning and a doorman, and although the best icy puddle of all lay between the sidewalk and the road, Mia and I managed to walk to the entrance in a very grown-up manner.
In fact, we were the last to arrive, and unfortunately everyone else was already sitting down. Mom waved. She had the Boker sitting next to her, so not surprisingly she looked nervous.
“I can see three empty chairs at the end of the table,” remarked Mia, razor-sharp as usual, while she slipped out of her coat and gave it to the waiter. “One next to Emily, one opposite Emily, and one beside the empty chair opposite Emily. I’ll have that one.” With a gloating giggle, she left us standing there.
Grayson was helping me out of my own coat. “Now we can argue over the other two places,” he said.
“Hmm. Cholera or the plague?” Clone-Liv didn’t bother to conceal her dislike of Emily. The real Liv wouldn’t have been so forthright. But Grayson just gave me a good-humored smile. “Well, since it wasn’t me who gave Emily a genuine sterling silver sign of infinity, I’d rather sit beside her than opposite her.” I added, “Then I won’t have to look at her all the time.” And I could also sit next to Lottie. I still had to speak to her, and it was urgent—unless it was too late for an explanation, because Charles was already deep in conversation with her. I hoped the name Jonathan hadn’t cropped up yet.
Grayson had given my coat to the waiter, and now his eyes wandered from my hair down to my boots, inspecting the effect. “Wow! You look terrific.”
“I know,” I said, for once sharing his opinion. I’d finally found the right things to wear with the short, cream-colored layered tulle skirt that Mom had given me for Christmas; I needed a style that wouldn’t make me look like a confused ballerina or a would-be bride. Worn with black lace-up boots, thick gray tights, and Mom’s gray cashmere pullover, the skirt suddenly looked cool.
“The later the evening, the lovelier the guests,” agreed Charles as we went over to the table. I gave him my best Clone-Liv smile, which even extended to the Boker. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t about to smile back; the main thing was that she was sitting at the other end of the table. Although I did feel a little sorry for Mom. Grayson had sat down in front of Emily. He had given the Boker a peck on the cheek and Emily no kiss at all, which lowered the warmth of her expression to zero on the sourpuss scale.
“Suckling pig in plum sauce.” Mia was deep in the menu. “With cavolo nero and orchids? Genuine orchids?”
“This restaurant has two Michelin stars,” said Emily cuttingly. “I’m afraid you won’t find hamburgers on the menu.” At the other end of the table, the Boker smiled approvingly.
“Could you keep your voice down a bit?” asked Grayson, sounding annoyed.