by Amy Ephron
It only took one round before they cleared the bowl, as if they were dancers whose performance was so extraordinary the other dancers stepped off to watch. He was a speed demon, no question about that, with a very distinct style, using his arms as if he was paddling, as if the air could push him along. But Tess kept pace with him. In a burst of speed, he sailed up, as if he was leading the race and jumped and landed and skated up to a ledge and skated back down again and in an amazing feat, landed back in the bowl and continued to race.
She held back and watched him for a minute, unsure of his moves or his pace and then raced up the bowl herself and executed an astonishing leap at the top of the bowl, shooting the board in front of her and landing, then up the step and back down again and couldn’t help herself, she executed a spectacular kick flip, aiming the board to land in front of him, performed two cannonball somersaults in the air on the way down, landing perfectly on the board, and racing right beside him in the bowl. Game on.
Tess kept pace right along with him, aware that a crowd had gathered and was watching them.
The boy raced fast, gaining lengths in front of her, and with no warning, shot up the side of the bowl again and landed, board first, and then his feet were planted securely on it on the ground.
Tess was lagging way behind, still racing a half a lap behind in the bowl. And then she felt the wind behind her easing her on, speeding her way. At lightning speed, she began the steep ascent up the bowl and landed perfectly on the ground a step below him. On the ledge above her the boy, a little cocky now, and smiling, flipped his board up to the next ledge. The board sailed forward, and he dropped to one knee, put his hand out to catch himself, and fell forward, flat-out on the ground as the board speeded away without him. Tess resisted the impulse to say: Game over.
Max was there to lend a hand to pull him up, which the boy grudgingly took. Tess complimented him on his amazing run. And thanked him for the match and reached her hand out to shake his. That didn’t go over too well either. The boy wouldn’t take her hand. He wanted a re-match. Tess was almost game, but Max jumped in and apologized and insisted they had to meet their aunt. Max didn’t think you should race someone who wouldn’t shake your hand when the match was over.
As Tess and Max walked back to the corner, before they called Aunt Evie, they did something they hadn’t done in a while, linked pinkies as they walked, subtly so that nobody would notice, a silent pinkie swear. It wasn’t holding hands, but it was a thing they did, a special way they had of telling each other that they had each other’s backs.
They didn’t have to call Aunt Evie, as they ran right into her on the corner as she was on her way back to them having found a few treasures at the bookstore, an early edition of a Dylan Thomas poetry book which made Aunt Evie very happy, and a bag of candied ginger for their mom.
“How do you feel about Indian food?” she asked Tess and Max. “There’s an excellent Indian restaurant just around the corner from the hotel.” Tess and Max both liked spicy food. Tess once dared Max to eat an entire hot pepper which he did without even wincing. Although he did ask for a glass of water after he’d finished. There was something exotic and wonderful about Indian food, the different varieties of flavors, spices, even the spinach was delicious, and mango chutney added a sweetness to the heat of whatever spicy dish they might order.
Not meaning to sound British, although he did, Max said, “That would be brilliant, Aunt Evie.” And both Tess and Aunt Evie started laughing although neither one of them could explain exactly why.
~ CHAPTER EIGHT ~
staying up after dinner
When they got back to the hotel after dinner, Aunt Evie confessed to being absolutely exhausted. Tess and Max weren’t tired, at all, so they asked if it would be all right if they spent some time in the library, “Maybe playing cards?” Tess said with an inflection that indicated it was a question.
“I think that would be fine,” Aunt Evie said. “You have your key, right?” Aunt Evie asked.
“Check,” said Max and pulled it out and showed it to her.
“And you promise you won’t stay up too late?”
“Check,” said Tess. And Max nodded in agreement.
“I think that would be all right then,” Aunt Evie said. “And hopefully—at least both of them sounded hopeful when they called me this afternoon—your parents will arrive before dinner tomorrow. I made a reservation for five in the dining room at the hotel at eight o’clock, very civilized, if you ask me. I know you already promised, but don’t stay up too late, please, and don’t eat too many chocolates.”
“We promise, Aunt Evie,” they said in unison and at the time they said it, they absolutely meant it to be true.
~ CHAPTER NINE ~
games in the library and an invitation
There were two young men in the library (which also had a fully stocked serve yourself bar in a small room adjacent to it). The two young men were playing backgammon and drinking red wine.
“Is it just free?” asked Max.
Tess threw her hands up indicating she had no idea. “Why?” she asked. “Were you thinking about having a drink?”
“No!” said Max quite emphatically. “But there’s a bottle of Coca-Cola on the counter. And there’s an ice bucket. There’s also ginger ale which I’m sure Mom would rather us drink at night, right?”
“Right,” said Tess. “You pour. I’ll have one, too.”
Tess opened a cabinet under the bookshelf and found two decks of cards and a board game called Parcheesi. There was a chess board set up in the corner, but Max always won. Max admitted it probably wasn’t fun for Tess to play chess with him—Tess could never quite work out what might happen three or four moves from now, which is what Max insisted was the key to becoming any good at chess. She saw Max eyeing the chess board. Tess shook her head.
“What about this?” asked Tess holding up the Parcheesi even though she had no idea what the game was or the rules. . . .
“Most of the pieces are missing,” a voice behind them said.
They turned around and saw the boy who had been in the dining room having tea alone. The one who had disappeared. Tess looked at Max to see if he saw him, too. Max nodded.
“It’s not terribly fun, anyway,” the boy said. And then he added, “I’m Colin, by the way.”
“Tess,” said Tess.
“Max,” said Max.
“Nice to make your acquaintance,” he said somewhat formally.
“Are you here for Christmas?” asked Tess, not meaning to be forward.
“I guess so,” he said shyly. “Actually, I live here all year round.” His voice was soft, with what sounded like a proper English accent, and he seemed exceptionally polite. He was taller than she thought he would be, a couple of inches taller than Tess. He had dark eyes, framed with long dark lashes, delicate features, but a strong jaw that somehow denoted a sense of confidence, and almost the smoothest skin that Tess had ever seen. It was flawless, and he was so pale Tess wondered whether he ever went outside. Then she remembered how little sun there was in London, so it made sense he would be pale. He was a little more dressed than they were, wearing a sort of suit jacket again, but this time a gray one, and those same silver cufflinks. He was a bit of a contradiction, shy and forceful at the same time.
“The pieces have been missing on that game forever,” he said, “but I have a table hockey game in my room.”
Max’s eyes lit up. He loved table hockey. Tess wasn’t sure they should accept what seemed to be an invitation from a stranger. On the other hand, he wasn’t exactly a stranger. He was only a couple of years older than Tess, she didn’t think, and he was living in the hotel that they were staying at which, Tess reasoned, almost made them neighbors.
“Mother,” Colin said, “is having a party but honestly I don’t think she’d mind.”
Tess looked at Max.
“I guess that’s right,” said Tess.
“Thanks,” Tess said to Colin. “We’d love to.”
~ CHAPTER TEN ~
party on the 8th floor
Come along then,” said Colin anxiously and he led them out of the library into the hall, and pushed the button for the elevator.
When the doors opened, there was an elevator man operating the controls. Tess didn’t remember that before. Maybe that was the policy at night. That made sense. Especially since he looked an awful lot like the doorman. People tended to be security conscious these days, particularly at night.
“Good evening, James,” said Colin quite politely. “I’ve invited Tess and Max up for dessert and a visit.”
James seemed to know Colin very well as he didn’t ask for the floor number. He just nodded. The elevator went up one more floor than it usually did. The doors opened on the 8th floor. Max noticed, because he always noticed things like this, that the elevator buttons used to only go to 7. Now, they went to 8. Curious. It must be a private floor. Had they walked into a different elevator than the one they used yesterday to visit Aunt Evie? Max and Tess’s room was on the first floor, so, he reasoned, he didn’t have that much experience with the elevator. But Max could swear the one they were in yesterday only had seven floors.
When they reached the 8th floor and the doors opened, it was even more unusual. The doors opened onto a hallway that only had one door. Not like the rest of the hotel, where there were hotel room doors, lots of them. This just had one door. And it didn’t even seem to have a lock, as Colin twisted the doorknob and let them right in. Well, actually, they were let in by what looked like a private doorman. He was dressed in an old-fashioned footman’s outfit, a red jacket with gold piping and pants that almost seemed to match. But then again, everyone at the party was dressed up, hair curled in tiny locks around women’s over-powdered faces; headbands, some with a flower tied on the right-hand side accenting the gaiety; dresses that fringed; sling back heels. Some of the men were wearing black patent leather loafers that Tess thought looked a little like slippers, but were probably comfortable to dance in, along with their somewhat formal suits; coats with tails; hats; an occasional red or black sash tied around a gentleman’s waist; and vests underneath their jackets. It looked almost as if it was a costume party. An effect that was amplified by the piano player performing at the black baby grand piano that was so shiny you could almost see your reflection in it. The top was propped up, for maximum sound level.
The piano player himself was wearing a top hat and a white tuxedo, with a red carnation tucked into the top button of his jacket. But when Tess looked at him closely, she realized it was the same man she’d met wearing the bowler hat in the lobby. Although she didn’t see any sign of the white terrier Princess around. He was accompanied by a singer, a very beautiful black woman with a slight French accent singing in a deep, sultry voice, songs about love and loss, to the strangely upbeat piano arrangements of what seemed to be twenties dance tunes. There were waiters in white long-sleeved shirts and red bowties and curiously formal black pants.
“Definitely a costume party,” Max whispered to Tess, who wasn’t sure that was what it was, at all.
Tess looked down at what she was wearing. She was glad she’d decided to dress for dinner out with Aunt Evie. She was wearing a white dress with a little bit of black smocking up at the top, which made it seem fancier than it was, as it was just a cotton dress with slight elaborate stitching at the top, empire, and not too short, just above the knee. It was cold out, so she’d put on white stockings and then because she felt like it, even though it probably wasn’t weather appropriate, she put on a pair of black patent leather Mary Janes that looked like some of the dress shoes the gentleman guests were wearing, so she sort of felt as if she fit in.
Tess was glad Max had decided to wear khakis instead of jeans and a pale blue shirt, even though he didn’t match anyone at the party. She decided if anyone asked what he was dressed as, she would jump in and say, “Safari.” That would be an answer, for sure.
It felt as if it had been so long ago that they’d gone out for Indian food with Aunt Evie, even though it couldn’t have been more than an hour ago. There was something about that elevator ride that felt as if time had elongated, stretched and shrunk at the same time. It was just an elevator ride but when the doors opened, it felt like they were in a different time and place, for sure, light years away or another century. She was letting her imagination run away with itself again. It was just a costume party.
The apartment was enchanting. French doors edged the living room and opened onto a terrace with a lovely view of rooftops, some of which were still dotted with snow from the day before. There was a formal dining room but tonight it was being used a bit casually, as a buffet was set up. But there was nothing casual about the display. Fancy English food. Roast beef with the bone in on a sideboard and a waiter in a white coat carving it and offering horseradish or mustard sauce. On the table were silver bowls filled with Yorkshire Pudding, creamed spinach, string beans, and boiled potatoes drenched in butter and decorated with parsley. Tess couldn’t help but wonder what was for dessert.
“We’ve eaten thanks,” she said to Colin who then led them back to his bedroom which had a sitting room as well as a bedroom, as if it were his own suite, and sure enough there was a hockey table set up in the sitting room.
Tess sat on the couch and watched quietly as Max and Colin played an incredibly competitive game of table hockey until a strange thing happened. Max whacked the puck back at Colin fast, so that it practically flew, sliding across the table missing all the paddles. But Colin didn’t seem to be paying attention, at all. It was as if he was just standing there, possibly not seeing, or not seeing them, or not seeing the round puck sliding toward him at breakneck speed across the table. It was very strange. It seemed to Tess that Colin was almost, well, mesmerized wasn’t the right word, but it was as if he was fixed in space for a moment.
Max’s cries of “hurrah” as he’d won the game seemed to bring Colin back to earth. Tess wondered what he could have been thinking about so hard, because she assumed that was what it was, that Colin had become lost in thought, which is not a good idea in the middle of a competitive sports match especially if you’re one of the players.
Colin conceded the game, somewhat elegantly. “Well done!” he said sounding very English. And then asked Tess if she wanted to play her brother. It was as if he’d skipped a beat in time, hadn’t been aware of the fact that he’d sort of been frozen for a moment or less elegantly put, spaced out.
Tess shook her head. She didn’t think she wanted to take a chance at the hockey table.
“There are lovely desserts, I bet, put out by now,” Colin added, which sounded excellent to Max and Tess, especially Tess as she could hear the live music from the living room, laughter, and the tinkling of ice. Tess was always one for dancing, or at least watching it, if dancing itself wasn’t on the table.
~ CHAPTER ELEVEN ~
gliding through the party
Tess and Max felt almost invisible as they went slinking through the party. The women, in four-inch heels and antique party dresses, and the men, in formal suits, were all engrossed in conversation or swaying to the music. In the dining room, silver trays were piled high with desserts and displayed on the buffet table.
Max quietly linked his pinkie to Tess, subtly down at their waists. A secret pinkie swear which meant they had each other’s backs. Although neither Tess or Max was sure what was making them feel cautious and shy. Certainly, they didn’t know anyone besides Colin although Tess had met the man in the bowler hat, who was now wearing a top hat as he played the piano, but it was more than that. . . . They were each feeling that they didn’t belong.
Tess wondered if Colin felt that way, too, although she d
oubted it, as he led them so effortlessly through the crowded party, stopping for a moment to smile at someone and in one case kiss an older woman’s hand. There was something so affectionate and respectable about it, Tess wondered if it was his aunt or his mother’s best friend or someone royal. That was the theory she liked the most. Everyone was so elegant. It felt to Tess as if, somehow, she and Max had faded and the rest of the party was in bright Kodachrome, an old kind of film that Max had learned about in photography class, where colors were almost brighter as if they’d been enhanced.
The jewelry alone sparkled, particularly the diamond necklace on the neck of the woman who came up to greet them and kiss Colin on the top of his head. Her light brown hair, tousled in pin curls around her face, the shape of which was almost pixieish, except she was classically beautiful, with dark blue eyes and long dark lashes, a perfectly shaped mouth, accented by soft pink lipstick, rouge on her cheeks which were framed by elegant and delicate cheekbones, and a lovely dimple on the right side of her mouth when she smiled, which she did when Colin introduced them to her and explained that she was his mother and her name was Janice Sanborn.
It occurred to Tess that her last name (and presumably Colin’s) was the same as the hotel’s, SANBORN HOUSE, and wondered if that meant they had a connection to the hotel or to the family who owned the hotel. Or they were the family who owned the hotel? It could explain why they had the entire top floor and a private entrance. That made sense. Tess was feeling a little bit like Max at the moment—she found it comforting when things were logical.
Colin’s mother only stayed with them for a moment, after suggesting they try the trifle which she said was lovely, as the strawberries were fresh, and “Be sure,” she added softly, “to add extra whipped cream. I’m so happy,” she added, “that Colin has found two friends.” And then she bustled off, leaving behind the slightest scent of a light perfume, as she walked back into the living room where the dancing was in full swing.