by Kerstin Gier
He was just taking out his books when I arrived, out of breath.
“Grayson, honestly! You acted injured all day because I hadn’t told you about Henry and me, but you didn’t feel you ought to tell me that it’s over between you and Emily as well, right?” I asked. Or rather I gasped, but it made no difference. Grayson understood me, all the same.
“Henry and you kept it from me for over a week,” he retorted. “Emily and I didn’t break up until Saturday evening. After dinner.”
“Then you had the whole of Sunday to tell me about it, instead of just looking at me in that injured way.”
“I was looking worried, not injured. Anyway, I was hardly at home. I didn’t have time to tell you.”
“It wouldn’t have taken long. A sentence would have done it. Oh, and by the way, Emily has dumped me. Or you could have told me last night.…”
I closed my mouth.
Could I seriously be cross with Grayson? The way he looked after Mia was so sweet. When I’d looked to the right in the dream corridor last night, I’d seen him sitting outside Mia’s dream door. I was so touched, I almost went over to hug him. Not that he could really have done anything about an intruder, but it’s the thought that counts. And he’d been so nice, sitting there trying to look dangerous.
I was still hesitating over telling Mia the whole story, because fundamentally there was no real proof that her sleepwalking didn’t have a natural cause. Particularly as I was still inclined to believe Anabel when she’d said she had nothing to do with it. Which was probably stupid of me, because Anabel must be involved all the same.
But however that might be, this time I’d slept in Mia’s bed with her, if only so that she wouldn’t have to activate the alarm device again. Surprisingly, she’d been perfectly happy about that idea; she thought walking in her sleep was creepy, and her bed was broad enough for two. She had insisted on tying our ankles together with her jump rope, so that if she got out of bed I’d be sure to be woken. Or dragged along after her. But nothing had happened. Mia had slept well and deeply, no one suspicious had come to her door, and I was feeling much better today because of that. Back when I walked in my sleep myself, it had stopped just as suddenly as it began, and with luck it would be the same for Mia. Until then we’d just have to make sure she was tied to something and couldn’t harm herself.…
“Why have you stopped telling me off?” Grayson was still looking down at me with a frown. “Should I be worried? Anyway, Emily didn’t dump me; it was the other way around. Just saying.”
“Oh yes?” Now I couldn’t help laughing. “That’s not the way Secrecy describes it. And how about the sign for infinity you gave Emily, anyway?”
“It’s only a figure eight lying on its side,” said Grayson drily.
“I see. All the same, Persephone would welcome you to our Broken Hearts Club.” I went over to my own locker to get out my chemistry textbook.
“Such an honor,” said Grayson. “But you’d better ask Henry.”
And with that he disappeared around the nearest corner.
“You’d better ask Henry what?” Someone beside me put an arm around my shoulders. It was Arthur. Oh, great. I really hadn’t missed him these last few days! Although—did he know that we’d seen Anabel, and she was far from being Senator Tod’s unfortunate victim, but rather the other way around?
I freed myself from his grasp. “Nothing that’s any of your business,” I said quickly.
He smiled and strolled on to his locker. “I’m sorry about what’s happened, by the way, Liv. I could have sworn you and Henry were head over heels in love. When I heard last night that you’d split up, I couldn’t believe it at first.”
“You sit up at night to read Secrecy’s blog, do you?” I asked, horrified. Okay, I could believe almost anything of Arthur—but I’d really never have thought of that.
Arthur laughed. “Of course not,” he said. “No, I heard about it from Henry and Grayson.”
Oh, of course, because the three of them had been close friends since sharing their buckets and shovels in the nursery school sandpit, and told one another everything.
Arthur ignored my skeptical expression. “I saw them in the corridor last night. They were sitting outside your little sister’s door, so I joined them for a while.”
I didn’t believe a word of it. “And then, over a dream beer, Henry told you he and I had split up? While Grayson poured out his heart to you about Emily?”
“Well, not directly,” said Arthur. “Grayson and Henry were talking about it and I came along.…” At least he was being honest. “In the past they’d certainly have asked my advice. You may not believe it, but I was always the expert on girls in our little circle.”
“Before you lost your heart to that nutcase who thinks she has to let a demon loose on the world,” I couldn’t help saying.
Arthur’s right eyelid twitched. “You know, I miss the old days when I hung out with the others and we talked.” He stroked his chin, thus reminding me how I’d broken his jaw. Had he done that on purpose? “About girls, and how complicated life is, and basketball, of course. Boy stuff, that’s all. I miss them.”
The school corridors were emptying. Soon the bell would go. “You expect me to feel sorry for you?” I asked, annoyed. Annoyed mainly because I did feel sorry for him. It must be hard to lose such good friends. Still, that had nothing to do with it. “You ought to have thought about that before you lied to them and got drawn into such a bad business,” I said.
Arthur looked as if he really would think about it. “Yes, I guess I ought,” he said. “I kind of naturally assumed we’d all stay friends until we were old and gray. But maybe last night was at least a beginning.…”
A beginning of what? Did he really think that Grayson and Henry would make things up with this character who’d been happy to have me killed in his family vault? Never! On the other hand, they’d known one another all their lives and had been through thick and thin together. While I was still new here—and a girl.
The bell woke me from these gloomy thoughts, and for once I was even glad of it. “Well,” I said, relieved, “never mind that, I’m off. Maybe I can read about the boy stuff you go on about in the Tittle-Tattle—”
I stopped short. An idea that seemed both totally absurd and absolutely logical had occurred to me.
“Wait a second,” I said slowly as a great many little cogwheels began interlocking with each other in my mind. “So in the corridor last night Grayson and Henry told you that they’d ended their relationships?”
Arthur nodded. “I just told you so.” Suddenly he looked like the old, self-satisfied Arthur I’d known before.
“What an amazing coincidence that Secrecy writes about that very thing in her blog today!”
Arthur shrugged his shoulders. “I’d say I agree with Nietzsche: no winner believes in coincidence.”
He wasn’t a winner. He was a nasty little fraud. He was …
“Arthur, are you Secrecy?” It burst out of me.
Arthur began to laugh. “My God, no! What funny ideas you get, Liv. I’m not Secrecy. To be honest, I haven’t the faintest idea who Secrecy is. I had a suspicion a couple of times, but it always turned out to be wrong. That really is a weird notion.”
“But…”
“But of course we all have Secrecy’s e-mail address.” He smiled at me, and I had a feeling that he was enjoying the horrified look I’d given him.
“Meaning that you supply Secrecy with information?”
“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, try
ing 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.
“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 leav
es 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.
Grayson was on guard, just as I’d expected. He was sitting outside Mia’s door in jeans and T-shirt, reading a book that he hastily tried to hide behind his back when he saw me coming.
“You really are a genius if you can read a book in your dreams,” I said. “What’s it about?”
“The principles of genetics,” said Grayson awkwardly. “I thought I could use the time to study.”
“Genetics?”
“I know it’s only a book I dreamed up, but maybe you can trick your brain in this place.…” He rubbed his forehead. “Or maybe not,” he added.
“You look tired. Like me to take over here for a bit?”
“Definitely not! I haven’t been here long, and I don’t want to go back into my dreams. I was dreaming of Emily and Emily’s horse, she was comparing me with … Well, anyway, Granny was there, too, and she was in a filthy temper again.…”