Up to now I’d been standing perfectly still on the steps up to the house, wishing I could make myself invisible. It seemed to have worked, too, because apart from Amy, no one had taken any notice of me. But the sight of the woman put an end to my invisibility. A gasp escaped me. Or a groan. Or a mixture of both.
It was B! The mermaid from the whirlpool. She looked staggeringly lovely, just like in the dream, although she was wearing a fur coat that, if it was genuine and I was not much mistaken, had cost several jaguars their lives, making it an offense against the protection of endangered species agreement. And against my dignity as well—I felt almost personally insulted. A jaguar coat? Seriously? How symbolic could you get?
My gasp had attracted the attention of Henry’s father. “And who have we here? Is this your little girlfriend, Henry?”
“Little ex-girlfriend,” I corrected him.
“I said let go of Milo.” Henry was frowning angrily. With three strides, he was beside Milo, freeing him from his father’s grasp, only to grab him by the nape of the neck himself next minute.
“Ow,” said Milo. “I really didn’t do anything.”
“No, he didn’t,” Amy piped up. She was sitting in her play car now, looking around at us all, wide-eyed. “But I did a wee in my pants, and Biljana was cross.”
With a deep sigh, Henry let go of his brother, and the relieved Milo rubbed the back of his neck.
Their father smiled at me with his dazzling white teeth, offered me his hand, and said, “Ron Harper.”
“Er, Liv Silver,” I muttered in confusion as he shook my hand vigorously.
“Pleased to meet you, little ex-girlfriend.” Ron Harper’s eyes twinkled as he looked at me. Oh my God! Was he actually flirting with me?
I let go of his hand as if I’d burned myself.
“Ronald! The snuffbox!” B reminded him. She was standing there stretching the way she’d stretched in the whirlpool.
“Yes, of course.” Henry’s father looked back at Milo, who was already halfway to the door. “This time there will be serious consequences. Apart from which, I am deeply disappointed in you.”
“Same to you,” said Henry’s brother, taking another couple of steps back and almost colliding with me.
“We could call the police,” said B, taking out her cell phone. “Or simply search his things.”
I noticed Milo’s hand moving toward his anorak pocket, and felt almost sure that he’d put the snuffbox in there. Because although I could see his face only from the side, it looked as guilty as if he had a confession hanging around his neck. I felt terribly sorry for him.
“Milo, whatever you’ve taken, just give it back,” said Henry, suddenly sounding incredibly tired.
“But I don’t have that silly box,” said Milo, taking his hand out of his pocket again and putting it behind his back, clenched into a fist. It couldn’t have been clearer.
In his place, I’d probably have tried to get rid of the thing much sooner, maybe by just dropping it unobtrusively into a flower bed. But it was too late for that now.
“Oh dear, it’s nearly dark,” I said, making up my mind. “I’ll have to get home, or there’ll be trouble with my—oh, look there! A squirrel!”
And as they all looked the way I had pointed, and Amy said, “Where? Where?” I reached for Milo’s fist and let the thing he was hiding there slip into my hand.
I was astonished that the cheap squirrel trick had worked so well.
With great presence of mind, Milo kept his hand behind his back and didn’t bat an eyelash.
“I can’t see any squirrel,” said Amy.
“I’m afraid it ran away,” I said regretfully.
“I hate squirrels,” said B.
Yes, very likely, because it would take hundreds of them to make a whole fur coat.
“See you later, Henry.” I strolled to the garden gate deliberately slowly, digging my hand into my coat pocket, and turning back once more.
Henry’s father was sighing. “Milo, let’s have that snuffbox.”
“Why do you always have to believe her?” Milo said accusingly. “I didn’t steal anything, I swear it. It was her! She’s probably planning to sell the box on the sly.…”
“You brat!” B tapped her long fingernails on the roof of the car. “I saw it with my own eyes!”
“Come along, Milo.” Henry rubbed his forehead. “Give him the snuffbox, and let’s get it over and done with.”
“I haven’t…”
“That will do!” His father took Milo’s arm, dragged him over, and forcibly bent his fingers back. When he saw that Milo’s hand was empty, he looked surprised. “Okay,” he said through gritted teeth. “You wanted it this way. We’ll just have to search you from head to foot.”
By this time, I’d reached the garden gate and was out on the sidewalk. At close quarters, I was sorry to see that B still looked amazing. Except maybe for her lipstick, and surely her forehead could only be that smooth if she was injecting Botox into it.
“Is your coat real jaguar?” I asked.