“I did like Henry, though,” she said, stirring the large pan of chocolate that she was melting on the stove. “But maybe it’s better this way. Men just make life so much more complicated. And they’re so odd. Take Charles, for instance. After weeks of indifference, he’s suddenly mad keen to go out with me again.”
Which of course was because of his jealousy of the nonexistent Jonathan. For some reason that, plus the fact that Lottie staunchly denied ever knowing anyone called Jonathan, seemed to egg him on. Men really were odd.
Mia moved slightly in her sleep. She had been the only one who really understood how I felt. “Honestly, you go and fall in love just once and something like this has to happen,” she had said. “I think Henry is really cool, but he must be an idiot if he wants to break up with you.”
That was the end of the subject so far as she was concerned. Before going to sleep, she’d switched the conversation to Secrecy. I had told her that Arthur had admitted to supplying the blog with information. Very confidential information, like the fact that Henry and I weren’t together anymore. That hadn’t surprised Mia.
“After all, that’s what keeps Secrecy’s blog going. All the scandalmongers who read it write to her whenever they find out something,” she said. “Maybe they hope that then they won’t be the focus of her attention themselves. Have you noticed, by the way, that it’s a long time since she wrote anything nasty about Hazel Pritchard?”
“Yes, and I realize that she must get sent tons of information. But … how does Secrecy decide who’s telling the truth and who isn’t?” I stared thoughtfully at the ceiling. “Think about it. Her rate of hits is always surprisingly high, at least as far as I can judge. So since she must have lots of informants, how does she know which of them she can trust? Particularly as I’m sure she must be told stories that aren’t true all the time.”
“Hmm.” Mia had also been staring at the ceiling. “Good question. Maybe she works only with informants that she knows—and knows she can rely on.”
“Then Arthur would be lying when he says he doesn’t know who she is?”
“Possibly. If you didn’t guess right after all, and he’s behind it himself.” Mia had propped herself up on her elbows. “Although it occurred to me the other day that Secrecy could be more than one person.”
Another good idea.
“Well, Watson, looks as if this case has been beyond you,” I said all the same, just to annoy Mia a bit. “Didn’t you say you’d have the whole thing cleared up by Christmas?”
“Oh no, Sherlock! Don’t take that attitude. Admittedly, Secrecy is a tough nut to crack, but not hard enough to foil Mia Silver.”
Unfortunately I wasn’t so sure of that. Of course I hadn’t told Mia how Arthur came by the information that he’d passed on to Secrecy.
“Don’t look so doubtful.” Mia nudged me. “Go to sleep instead! You look worn out.… Sorry, I guess it’s the whole love business. I hope and pray it never happens to me.” And with that, she turned on her other side and fell asleep at once.
She was lying on her back now. In the sparse light from the streetlamp outside, she looked much younger than usual. Her long fair hair was spread out on the pillow, where it mingled with mine; you couldn’t tell where hers ended and mine began. I knew it was impossible that she’d avoid falling in love, but I hoped for her sake that it wouldn’t happen for a few years yet. And that it would be even longer before love could make her unhappy.
It was beginning to get light outside; a bird started to sing, then two, and then the rising sun cast the delicate shadows of branches and leaves on the wall, a copy of the magnolia in the front garden. It looked beautiful, like a Chinese ink drawing. The room slowly filled with golden morning light, more and more birds began singing, and now and then I heard the shrill, striking cry of the gibbons.… Wait a moment! Abruptly, I sat up in bed. Monkeys? Golden morning sunlight? We were in London in the depths of winter. It was still pitch dark at this hour; there were no birds singing, and definitely no gibbons uttering their cries! My eyes wandered around the room. Mia was fast asleep, everything looked the same as usual—apart from the mint-green door in the wall.
This was all wrong.
I hadn’t woken at all. I’d only dreamed of waking, but in reality I was still asleep.
26
I QUICKLY BEGAN undoing the jump rope around my ankle, but then I realized that wasn’t necessary. After all, this was only a dream, so I could just make the rope disintegrate and turn to dust. However, I couldn’t bring myself to dispose of Mia like that. She looked so peaceful lying there in the golden morning sunlight. When I closed the door behind me, the gibbons were still calling.
Everything was the same as usual out in the corridor. Whenever I came here, I briefly held my breath as I looked to see if Henry’s door was still in the same place. Yet again it was right opposite mine. In spite of all that had happened, that was a comforting feeling, I couldn’t deny it.