Emerald Green (14 page)

After that, totally exhausted, I had fallen asleep, which at least meant I didn’t have bad dreams. In fact I didn’t dream at all. Unlike Aunt Maddy. When I tottered down to the first floor for breakfast—late, because I’d had to spend ages searching for Mum’s concealer to disguise the shadows around my eyes—she intercepted me in the corridor and took me into her room.

“Anything wrong?”
I asked, but I knew I could have spared myself the question. If Aunt Maddy was up by seven thirty, something was definitely very wrong. Her hair was tousled, and one of the two curlers that were meant to keep her blond locks off her forehead had come loose and was hanging down almost over her ear.

“Oh, Gwyneth, darling, you may well ask!” Aunt Maddy sat down on her unmade bed and stared at the
flower pattern on the lavender wallpaper. “I had a vision!”

Oh, not again!

“Let me guess—someone crushed a ruby heart under the heel of his boot,” I suggested. “Or maybe there was a raven flying into a shop window display of … er … clocks?”

Aunt Maddy shook her head so hard that the second curler was also in danger. “No, Gwyneth, you mustn’t joke about these things. I may not always know what
my visions mean, but later on they’re sure to make sense.” She reached for my hand and drew me closer. “And this time it was so clear. I saw you in a blue dress with a full skirt, and there was candlelight everywhere and people playing stringed instruments.”

I couldn’t help getting goose bumps. Not only did I have misgivings about that ball, Aunt Maddy had to go and have another vision. And I
hadn’t mentioned the ball to her, or told her the color of my ball dress.

Aunt Maddy was glad to see that she finally had my full attention. “At first it all seemed very peaceful, with everyone dancing, including you, but then I saw that the ballroom had no ceiling. Terrible black clouds were gathering in the sky above you, and a huge bird came out of them ready to swoop down on you,” she went
on. “Then, when you tried to escape, you ran straight into … oh, it was horrible! Blood everywhere, everything was red with blood, even the sky turned red, and the raindrops were drops of blood—”

“Aunt Maddy…?”

She was wringing her hands. “Yes, I know, my love, it’s so dreadful, and I do hope it doesn’t mean what may be the most obvious thing to—”

“You’ve skipped a bit, I think,” I said, interrupting
her again. “
What
did I … I mean, what did the Gwyneth in your dream run into?”

“It wasn’t a dream, it was a vision.” Aunt Maddy opened her eyes even wider, if that was possible. “A sword. You ran straight into it.”

“A sword? Where did it come from?”

“It was … I think it was simply hanging in the air,” said Aunt Maddy, flapping her hand about vaguely. “But that’s not the important part,” she
went on, sounding slightly annoyed. “The important part is all the blood.”

“Hm.” I sat down on the bed beside her. “And what exactly do you want me to do with that information?”

Aunt Maddy looked around, fished the jar of sherbet lemons off her bedside table, and put one in her mouth.

“Oh, darling, I don’t know myself. I just thought maybe it would come in useful to you … as a warning.…”

“Right. I promise I’ll do my best not to run into any swords hanging in the air.” I gave Aunt Maddy a kiss and got up. “And maybe you ought to get a little more sleep. This isn’t your good time of day.”

“You’re right, that’s what I ought to do.” She stretched out and put the quilt over her. “But don’t make light of it,” she said. “Please look after yourself.”

“I will.” At the door I turned back
again. “Er…,” I said, clearing my throat. “There wasn’t by any chance a lion in your dream, was there? Or a diamond? Or … or maybe the sun?”

“No,” said Aunt Maddy, her eyes already closed.

“That’s what I thought,” I muttered, closing the door quietly behind me.

*   *   *

WHEN I ARRIVED
at the breakfast table, I noticed at once that Charlotte was missing.

“The poor girl is sick,” said Aunt
Glenda. “A slight temperature and a bad headache. I should think it’s the flu that’s going around. Can you make our apologies for your cousin at school, please, Gwyneth?”

I nodded grimly. Flu—that was a real laugh! Charlotte wanted to stay here so that she could search my room in peace.

The same idea had obviously occurred to Xemerius, who was crouching in the fruit bowl on the breakfast table.
“I told you she isn’t stupid.”

And Mr. Bernard, coming in with a plate of scrambled eggs, gave me a warning glance.

“These last few weeks have been too upsetting for the poor girl,” said Aunt Glenda. Nick snorted rudely, but our aunt ignored him. “No wonder her body is crying out for time off now.”

“Don’t talk nonsense, Glenda,” said Lady Arista sternly, sipping her tea. “We Montroses have
the stamina to stand up to much worse. Personally,” she added, straightening her thin back, “I have never had a single day’s sickness in my life.”

“To be honest, I don’t feel too good myself,” I said. I didn’t, particularly when I remembered that there was no way to lock my bedroom door from the outside. Like almost all the doors in our house, it had only an old-fashioned bolt to lock it on the
inside.

My mother immediately jumped up and put her hand on my forehead.

Aunt Glenda rolled her eyes. “Isn’t that just typical! Gwyneth simply can’t bear not to be the center of attention.”

“It feels cool.” Mum actually took hold of the tip of my nose as if I were five years old. “And this is dry and warm, just as it should be.” She stroked my hair. “I can spoil you at the weekend if you like.
We could have breakfast in bed—”

“Ooh, yes, and you can read us the Peter Rabbit stories like you used to,” said Caroline, who had the pink crochet pig on her lap. “Then we’ll feed Gwenny chopped-up apple and make her cold compresses.”

Lady Arista placed a slice of cucumber on her toast, where she had already neatly stacked sliced cheese, ham, tomato, and scrambled egg. “Gwyneth, you don’t look
in the least unwell. You look the picture of health.”

Would you believe it? I was so tired that I could hardly prop my eyes open, I looked like something a vampire had bitten—and now this!

“I shall be in the house all day,” said Mr. Bernard. “I can make Miss Charlotte chicken soup and look after her.” Although he was speaking to Aunt Glenda it was meant for me, and I understood him only too
well.

Unfortunately, Aunt Glenda had other plans for him. “I can look after my own daughter, Mr. Bernard. I want you to go to Walden-Jones to collect my orders and Charlotte’s costume for the party.”

“That’s in Islington,” said Mr. Bernard, looking at me anxiously. “It will mean that I’m out of the house for some time.”

“Yes, so it will.” Aunt Glenda frowned, slightly annoyed.

“On the way
back, you could get some flowers, please, Mr. Bernard,” said Lady Arista. “A few springlike arrangements for the entrance hall, the dining table, and the music room. Nothing garish, not like those bright parrot tulips you got the other day. I suggest shades of white, pale yellow, and lilac.”

Mum kissed us all good-bye before setting off to go to work. “If you see any pots of forget-me-not, you
could get me a couple, Mr. Bernard. Or lily of the valley if the florist has any.”

“Certainly,” said Mr. Bernard.

“And while you’re about it, we might as well have a few lilies too,” I groused. “They can be planted on my grave when I’m dead and gone because I was sent to school when I was sick.” But my mother was already out of the doorway.

“Don’t worry, “Xemerius tried to console me. “If that
red-headed battle-ax stays at home, Charlotte can’t simply march into your room. Even if she does, she’d have to think of opening up the back of your wardrobe and crawling into the space behind it. And even if she did think of it, she’d never pluck up the courage to investigate the insides of the crocodile. Now are you glad I made you slit it open last night?”

I nodded, although inwardly I shuddered
at the thought of crawling into that dark corner full of cobwebs, and of course I was still worried. If Charlotte really guessed or actually knew what she ought to be looking for, she wasn’t going to give up in a hurry. And I would be home even later than usual if I couldn’t manage to put off going to that ball. I’d be home too late, possibly. What would happen if the Guardians discovered
that the stolen chronograph was here in our house? A chronograph needing only Gideon’s blood to close the Circle! I suddenly had goose bumps all over. They’d probably freak out when they suddenly realized how close they were to completing the mission of their lives. And who was I to keep something hidden from them, something that might turn out to be a cure for all the diseases in the world?

“
And
there’s always a chance that the poor girl really is sick,” said Xemerius.

“Yes, right, and the earth is flat,” I replied. Stupidly, I said it out loud. Everyone else at the table looked at me, taken aback.

“No, Gwenny, the earth is a globe,” Caroline kindly told me. “I couldn’t believe it at first, either. But apparently it flies through the universe at lightning speed.” She broke off a
piece of her toast and held it in front of the crochet pig’s pink nose. “Still, that’s the way it is. Isn’t it, Margaret? Have another bit of toast and ham?”

Nick quietly went, “Oink!” and Lady Arista’s mouth twisted in disapproval. “Don’t we have a rule? No soft toys or dolls here at mealtimes, and no friends, real or imaginary.”

“But Margaret is being very good,” said Caroline. All the same,
she obediently put the pig on the floor under the table.

Aunt Glenda sneezed reproachfully. These days she was obviously allergic to soft toys too.

*   *   *

ALTHOUGH XEMERIUS
had promised to guard the chronograph with his life (at this point I laughed, if not very heartily) and tell me at once if Charlotte was trying to get into my room, I couldn’t stop wondering what would happen if the Guardians
got their hands on the chronograph. But brooding was no use. I had to get through the day somehow and hope for the best. First on my to-do list: I got off the bus one stop early to find a cure for my weariness in Starbucks.

“Can you add three espressos to a caramel macchiato?” I asked the guy behind the counter.

“If you give me your mobile number,” he said, grinning.

I took a rather closer
look at him and grinned back, feeling flattered. With his dark hair and long fringe, he reminded me of one of those good-looking guys from a French feature film. Of course he was good-looking only until I compared him with Gideon in my mind, which stupidly I did at once.

“She already has a boyfriend,” someone said behind me. It was Raphael; his green eyes were twinkling at me when I turned around,
frowning. “Anyway she’s too young for you, as you can easily tell from her school uniform. A caffè latte and a cranberry muffin, please.”

I rolled my eyes and took my specially strong brew with an apologetic smile. “I don’t have a boyfriend, as it happens, but right now I do have … well, kind of a time problem. Ask me again in another two years.”

“I will,” said the guy.

“He won’t, you know,”
said Raphael. “Bet you he asks every pretty girl for her phone number.”

I simply walked off, but Raphael caught up with me. “Hey, hang on! Sorry I disturbed your flirtation.” He looked suspiciously at his coffee. “Do you think he spat in this?”

I took a large sip from my paper cup and promptly burnt my lips, tongue, and the front of my palate. When I could think again, I wondered whether an
intravenous coffee injection might not have been a better idea.

“I went to the cinema with that girl Celia from our class yesterday,” Raphael went on. “Terrific girl. Amazingly pretty and funny, don’t you think?”

“Uh?” I said with my nose in the milk foam. (The company of Xemerius was beginning to infect me.)

“We had a lot of fun together,” he went on. “Only don’t tell Lesley. She might feel
jealous.”

I had to laugh. How sweet—he was trying to manipulate me. “Okay. I’ll be silent as the grave.”

“So you really do think she might be jealous?” asked Raphael eagerly.

“Oh, sure, green with jealousy. Seeing that there’s no one called Celia in our class.”

Raphael rubbed his nose, looking awkward. “That blonde? The one throwing the party?”

“Cynthia.”

“I really did go to the cinema with
her, though,” said Raphael, unhappily. The school uniform, with its unfortunate combination of dismal yellow and navy blue, looked even worse on him than on us. And the way he ran his hand through his hair reminded me of Nick and appealed to my maternal feelings. I thought he’d earned a reward for not being as arrogant and high-handed as his big brother.

“I’ll break it to Lesley gently, okay?”
I offered.

He smiled hesitantly. “But don’t tell her I got the names mixed up.… Oh, better not tell her anything … or maybe—”

“You just leave it to me.” As we parted, I gave his tie a little tug. “Hey, congratulations! You tied it properly today.”

“Cindy did it for me,” said Raphael with a wry grin. “Or whatever her name is.”

*   *   *

OUR FIRST CLASS
that day was English with Mr. Whitman.
He acknowledged my apologies on behalf of Charlotte with a nod, although I couldn’t resist drawing quotation marks in the air with my fingers around the word
sick.

“You should have brought it with you,” Lesley whispered, as Mr. Whitman handed out our marked homework from last week.

“What, the chronograph? To school? Are you crazy? Suppose Mr. Whitman discovered it! Poor Mr. Squirrel, he’d have
a heart attack. Quite apart from the fact that he’d tell his friends the other Guardians right away, and then they would hang, draw, and quarter me, or break me on the wheel, or do whatever else their stupid Golden Rules say is the penalty for a case like mine.” I handed Lesley the key to the chest. “Here you are, the key to your heart. I really wanted to give it to Raphael, but I suppose you wouldn’t
like that.”