Lottie and Charles ordered monkfish à l’Armoricaine. That’s to say, Lottie ordered it, and Charles just said, “The same for me, please,” and leaned toward Lottie. “About this man Jonathan…,” he began.
“Yes, the monkfish does sound delicious too,” I cried. If you ignored the oysters and curried apple and cucumber salad that came with it. I was getting rather agitated. This was like watching Wimbledon—no way could I keep an eye on all the doubles players at once.
“Sure, delicious,” muttered Mia, drawing my attention to the table next to ours, where the waiter had just served up a fish. A whole fish, glazed eyes and all.
Now it was Grayson’s turn. “I’d like the turbot, please, without the palourde clam compote,” he told the waiter.
“But that’s the best part of the dish,” said Emily when the waiter had gone away. Grayson seemed to have been just waiting for that.
“And I’m sure you’re about to tell me why, teacher.”
Oh God, I couldn’t take much more of this. We hadn’t even reached the starters yet. I looked helplessly from one barrel of gunpowder to the next. And those were only the people I could hear. Who knew what was going on at the other end of the table?
“Palourde clams are the only Venus clams that can be eaten raw, and they…”
“Who is this Jonathan you keep talking about?”
“What makes you think anyone’s interested in that?”
“But you told me you didn’t like action films!”
Maybe I ought to reconsider and stage a collapse after all—at least that would take their minds off their own problems, and later they could say I had spoiled the evening and it was all my fault.
“Is that it?” I heard Henry’s voice at the back of my mind again.
At this moment Ernest struck his wine glass with a fork, and silence fell.
“While we’re waiting for our orders to arrive, I’d just like to say a few words, if you will allow me. It won’t take long.” He smiled at all the guests. “When I celebrated my birthday this time last year, I would never have thought that a year later I’d be standing here”—rather clumsily, he pushed back his chair and got to his feet—“as the happiest man on earth. Because of meeting you, Ann.”
Mom blushed.
“I had come to terms with my life—I’d never have expected to fall deeply in love again.” Ernest’s voice was so solemn that it gave me goose bumps. Not just our table but the whole restaurant seemed to be listening, because although Ernest was speaking softly you could hear every word he said.
The Boker pretended to have a fit of coughing.
But Ernest went on, entirely undeterred. “I didn’t realize what I was missing, but now I know that I never want to let you go again. Ann?” He reached into his jacket pocket and brought out a little box. When he opened it to reveal a ring with a shining stone in it, Mom let out a small, stifled sound. So did the Boker.
Tears came to my eyes. I couldn’t do anything about it. And I wasn’t the only one with moist eyes sitting there. Lottie even gave a quiet sob.
“Ann, will you be my wife?” asked Ernest.
Mom was fighting tears back too. “Yes,” she whispered. “Oh yes, I will.”
22
YOU HAD TO say one thing for Mia’s anti-sleepwalking device: it definitely did what it was meant to do. When the saucepan lids began clattering, I woke at once. By the time the cowbell joined in, I was sitting upright in bed. And I was on my feet long before the last lid stopped clattering.
I wasn’t the only one. Everyone else in the house, even Lottie on the top floor, had been woken, and within a few minutes, we were all in Mia’s room. Mom and I were the first. As we came through the doorway, we immediately saw that Mia was the only one still asleep. It was icy cold in her room, the window was wide open, and Mia was sitting on the windowsill with her back to us. To be precise, sitting on the very edge of the windowsill, with her legs dangling in the air outside.
Mom gasped and clapped her hand over her mouth. I only just managed to suppress a loud groan. One false move, and Mia would fall out of the window. Yes, we were only on the second floor of the house, but falling twelve feet to a paved path would be dangerous enough. The question was, what could we do now? If we spoke to her, or actually touched her, she might wake at just the wrong moment.
While various horror scenarios shot through my mind within the fraction of a second, all featuring a lifeless Mia in a pool of blood among the frozen flower beds, Ernest shot past us, simply picked Mia up in both his arms, and pulled her back into the room. I’d never have expected him to act so fast and so energetically.
I breathed out. And then in, and then out again. Suddenly everything in the room seemed to me brighter and warmer, although of course nothing had changed. The only real light came from the streetlamp outside the house.