Dream a Little Dream (Silber #1)

Anabel laughed again. “Blackmail! I’m far beyond such childish, laborious methods now. No—I have something special in mind for you. Don’t worry, you’ll like it.”


At that moment the electronic alarm that we’d heard before went off. “The beeper,” said Anabel, while Senator Tod turned pale, and the next second disappeared entirely. “The patient in room 207 is a friend of mine—I give her my dessert, and in return she rings for the doctor every night he’s on emergency duty and gets him out of bed. I bet he goes racing straight to my room.” She yawned. “A shame. It’s so nice here with you, I could stand around chatting for hours, particularly as the story of your little sister sounds really interesting, Liv.”

“What’s happened to Mia?” Henry looked inquiringly at me.

I was intently studying my feet.

“Hasn’t Liv told you?” asked Grayson. “Mia has been sleepwalking.”

“No, Liv hasn’t told me anything about it,” said Henry. He sounded annoyed.

I raised my head to give him a look of even more annoyance. If anyone had no right to complain that I wasn’t telling him enough, then it was Henry.

“I’ve no idea how she fixes it,” said Grayson, stationing himself in front of Anabel, “but Anabel is making Mia do dangerous things in her sleep. A few days ago, she was trying to smother Liv with a cushion, and tonight she almost jumped out of her bedroom window.”

Henry looked dismayed. “When did this start?”

“A couple of weeks ago. I can’t think why Liv didn’t tell you.”

“Nor can I,” said Henry. “But now I understand what Mr. Wu was doing.”

“You can’t think why I didn’t tell you?” I tried my best not to sound shrill, but I wasn’t sure whether I really succeeded. “Probably because you always tell me everything, don’t you? So I’m sure you automatically expect other people to do the same. Apart from the fact that we’re not a couple anymore, and I don’t have to tell you anything.”

“What?” cried Grayson. “You’re not a couple now? Since when?”

“Oh, didn’t Henry tell you?” I asked sarcastically. “I expect that was because he didn’t think it was very important.”

“Those things have nothing to do with each other.” Henry moved away from his door. The casual expression had entirely disappeared from his face. “If Anabel is manipulating Mia’s dreams, you ought to have told me.”

“Now, now, my dears.” Anabel, of all people, was intervening. “I for one have nothing to do with it.”

“Who does, then?” asked Grayson angrily.

Anabel smiled gently. “To be honest, Grayson, I won’t claim I didn’t have plans for you all, but … no, I really never thought of making Liv’s sister go sleepwalking.”

It was crazy, but I believed her, in spite of the mad gleam in her eyes and the expression of gleeful triumph on her face. And before she could suddenly disappear, no doubt because a furious Senator Tod came storming into her room at the hospital, she added, “Well, think it over. Couldn’t there be someone else who has a score to settle with Liv?”





23

HENRY LIVED IN a detached redbrick house with several bay windows, lots of white-painted lattice windows, and a green front door with a semicircular fanlight. It was hidden behind brick walls to shoulder height, and didn’t look at all like the gloomy, neglected, depressing house of horrors I’d imagined. The front garden was well tended; the garden gate was obviously well oiled. I did have to skirt around a child’s play car and a basketball on the way to the front door, but that made the house seem homey, like the tabby cat asleep on the doormat next to a pair of brightly colored rubber boots. What surprised me even more was the fact that it had taken me exactly twelve and a half minutes to get there. On foot. Without running. Imagine it: I’d been in a relationship with this guy for months, and I’d had no idea that he lived only a twelve-and-a-half-minute walk away from me. One more reason to feel annoyed with him.

All the same, I hesitated for a moment before ringing the bell—I mean, I could always just pet the cat and go away again without losing face. Then I pulled myself together. After all, he was the one who had sent me a text thirteen and a half minutes ago, not vice versa. It had made me forget all about last night and my worries over Mia and Anabel. All it had said was: We must talk. I’d asked Grayson for Henry’s address the next minute.

And I guessed he was only too right about that.

“Okay, so we’ll talk,” I said out loud just as Henry opened the door and stared at me in astonishment. I tried to make sure I had a neutral expression on my face, which was terribly difficult, because my heart had sunk what felt like a good couple of inches. Would just seeing him ever stop hurting? Would I be able to be in the same room as him someday without feeling I was about to die of longing?