“Yup.” Arthur pushed an angelic lock of hair back from his angel-face. “Now and then. From a fake account. What Secrecy can do, I can do better. I’m the perfect informant, you see. One learns so much in dreams. Things that no one else knows. Oh, don’t look so morally offended. Don’t forget that if you get up on your high horse it’s a long way to fall.” He looked at his watch. “Do you know how late it is? Time for your next class.”
I lifted my chin. “You’re right there,” I said, trying to sound as icily scornful as possible. “My high horse and I must just go and find a toilet to throw up in first, because this conversation makes us sick to our stomachs.”
Arthur was still smiling, but it wasn’t a casual smile, more of an artificial one. And underneath it I could clearly sense hurt feelings, but that didn’t bother me.
I set off for the chemistry lab. And on the way I’d have to send a couple of texts.
25
“COME INTO THE water, dear boy.” B was stretching seductively in her whirlpool, and this time she had a fish tail shimmering in all the colors of the rainbow. She was stirring the water up into waves with it.
Henry hesitated, looking at me.
“Don’t do it,” I wanted to say, but I couldn’t utter a word. I was a tree, with my roots going down through the mosaic tiles and into the earth below. I had to watch, helplessly, as Henry undressed and slid into the water to join B.
“Too bad, too bad,” whispered a voice beside me. It was Anabel’s. She patted my bark sympathetically. “Fancy having to watch this. But that’s just like Henry. It’s his own fault if he loses his heart to her, of all people.”
In the whirlpool, B swam over to Henry and flung her slender arms around his neck.
“I’m sure you wish you could close your eyes,” whispered Anabel. “What a shame that you’re a tree.”
Yes, what a shame. Henry and B were beginning to kiss, and there wasn’t a thing I could do about it.
“There’s only one solution, Liv,” said Anabel. “You’ll have to wake from this dream.” She pointed to the golden decoration of the opposite wall, where there was a splash shower, and a mint-green door next to it. My door.
Thank goodness. It was only a dream. My dream. Which wasn’t going to prevent Henry and B from kissing. They were holding each other close, and Henry had one hand in B’s hair, while the other …
“Just wake from the dream,” said Anabel gently, and I did. Why don’t you realize immediately in a dream that it is a dream, even when you’ve just been a tree? It was crazy. My heart was thudding unnaturally fast, anyway, and in my relief I nestled closer to Mia. Her alarm clock said 5:30, so there was another hour to go before it went off. Mia was breathing peacefully and regularly. She’d tied our ankles together with her jump rope again, and that wasn’t the only reason I hadn’t been afraid to go to sleep. Out in the corridor, Grayson would be on guard, maybe even with Henry again. After all, he’d kept Grayson company last night.
I’d sent a text saying: A admits sent info to Secr. L. (It was a short text because of the difficulty of typing on the old-fashioned cell phone.) At least he’d replied: Can’t say I’m surprised. After all, he’s an A. And a smiley after it. I’d considered texting back to say I had the rococo snuffbox and ask what I should do with it, but then I didn’t. For one thing, it would take ages to type that message, and for another, if he’d wanted me to text back he’d have asked a question. But he hadn’t. Apart from which I also had other worries on my mind. Thanks to Secrecy, the whole family now knew that Grayson and I belonged to the Broken Hearts Club. Florence had been kind enough to enlighten them.
Mom had been rather hurt that she hadn’t heard it from me first, but she’d tried not to let that show. “I remember just what it’s like to be unhappy in love for the first time, mousie,” she had said, stroking my head. “But believe me, it won’t be for the last time by a long chalk.”
What a great prospect. If that wasn’t a huge comfort, I didn’t know what would be. However, she had said the very same thing to Grayson, stroking his head too. His expression had been priceless. I could have had a fit of the giggles all over again when I thought of it.
“I liked that boy.” Lottie had set to work at once baking comfort muffins for Grayson and me, while Mom was still at the head-stroking stage. Lottie herself was a bit cross with me for not saying anything to her, because now she was a week late with the baking. For me, anyway. For Grayson the experience was still new. “And I’m sure … er … Emily is very nice too. Even if she doesn’t let it show.”
“Yes, she’s very good at hiding that,” said Grayson, who looked as if the mere smell of hot chocolate was a comfort to him.
The muffins were a sign that Lottie didn’t take any of it too seriously. If she had been really worried, she’d have baked her all-the-year-round vanilla crescents, for when extreme comfort was called.