Authors: Kerstin Gier
I smiled at him, put a piece of quiche in my mouth, beamed happily around the table, and asked, “How was your day, all of you?”
Aunt Maddy beamed back. “Well, yours seems to have been pretty good, anyway.”
Charlotte’s
fork scraped over her plate with a harsh, grating noise.
Yes, in the end, my day really had been pretty good. Even though Gideon, Falk, and Mr. Whitman hadn’t shown up again before I left, so I’d had no chance of checking up on whether “I love you, Gwenny. Please don’t leave me” was all my imagination or whether Gideon had really said it. The other Guardians had done their best to improve what
Falk de Villiers had called my “bedraggled” appearance. Mr. Marley had even wanted to brush my hair with his own hands, but I said I’d rather do it myself. Now I was wearing my school uniform, and my hair was neatly combed and hanging down my back again.
Mum patted my hand. “I’m glad you’re better again, darling.”
Aunt Glenda muttered something featuring the words “constitution of an ox.” Then
she asked, with an artificial smile, “So what’s all this I hear about a green garbage sack? I can’t believe that you and your friend Lassie will go to the party the Dales are giving for their daughter like that! Tobias Dale would take it as a political insult, I’m sure. He’s a really big noise among the Tories.”
“Uh?” I went.
“
What did you say?
” Xemerius corrected me.
“Glenda, I am surprised
at you!” Lady Arista clicked her tongue. “None of my granddaughters would ever dream of such a thing. Going to a party in a garbage sack! What nonsense!”
“Well, it’s better than nothing for someone who doesn’t have a green costume to wear,” said Charlotte nastily. “At least, for Gwen it will be.”
“Oh, dear.” Aunt Maddy looked sympathetic. “Let’s think. I have a fluffy green toweling bathrobe
I could lend you.”
Charlotte, Nick, Caroline, and Xemerius giggled, and I grinned at Aunt Maddy. “That’s really nice of you, but I don’t think Lesley would like it. Little green men from Mars don’t wear bathrobes.”
“There you are! They mean it seriously,” snapped Aunt Glenda. “My word, that girl Lassie is a bad influence on Gwyneth.” She wrinkled up her nose. “Not that you’d expect anything
else from the child of such lower-class parents. It’s bad enough having her sort allowed to go to St. Lennox High School at all. I for one certainly would not allow my daughter to mingle with—”
“That will do, Glenda!” Mum’s eyes flashed angrily at her sister. “Lesley is a clever, well-brought-up girl, and her parents are not lower class! Her father is … is…”
“A civil engineer,” I prompted her.
“A civil engineer, and her mother works as…”
“As a dietician,” I said.
“And the dog studied at Goldsmiths’ College,” said Xemerius. “Very respectable family.”
“Our costumes don’t make any political statement,” I assured Aunt Glenda and Lady Arista, who were looking at me with raised eyebrows. “It’s just supposed to be modern art.” On the other hand, it would be typical Lesley if she also gave
the whole thing a political meaning, just to put the crowning touch on it. As if it weren’t bad enough that we were going to look terrible. “And it’s Cynthia who’s giving the party, not her parents—or the theme might not have been so green after all.”
“That’s not funny,” said Aunt Glenda. “And I call it very impolite not to take any trouble with your costumes, when the other guests and the hosts
of the party are sparing no expense. Charlotte’s costume, for instance, cost—”
“A fortune, and suits her perfectly. You’ve said so thirty-four times already today,” Mum interrupted.
“You’re just envious. You always were. But at least I’m concerned for my daughter’s welfare, unlike you,” snapped Aunt Glenda. “The fact that you take so little interest in the company Gwyneth keeps and won’t even
get her a good costume, speaks for—”
“The company Gwyneth keeps?” Mum rolled her eyes. “How unrealistic can you get, Glenda? This is a school friend’s birthday party, that’s all! It’s bad enough for the poor kids anyway, having to dress up.”
Lady Arista put her knife and fork down with a clatter. “My goodness, you two are over forty and still acting like teenagers! Of course Gwyneth is not going
to any party in a garbage sack. And now we will change the subject, if you please.”
“Yes, let’s talk about despotic old dragons,” suggested Xemerius. “And women of over forty who still live with their mothers.”
“You can’t tell Gwyneth what to—” Mum began, but I kicked her shin under the table and grinned at her.
She sighed, but then she grinned back.
“I’m afraid I can’t sit by and watch Gwyneth
tarnishing the reputation of our—” Aunt Glenda began, but Lady Arista didn’t let her finish what she was saying.
“Glenda, if you don’t keep your mouth shut, you can go to bed without any supper,” she snapped, and that made us all laugh, except Lady Arista herself and Aunt Glenda—even Charlotte laughed.
At that moment, the front doorbell rang.
No one reacted for a few seconds. We just went on
eating until we remembered that it was Mr. Bernard’s day off. Lady Arista sighed. “Would you be good enough to answer it again, Caroline? If it’s Mr. Turner about this year’s floral decorations for the lampposts in the street, tell him I’m not at home.” She waited until Caroline had disappeared and then shook her head. “That man is a
plague
! I will say only this: orange begonias! I very much hope
there is a special hell for people who like orange begonias!”
“So do I,” agreed Aunt Maddy loyally.
A minute later, Caroline was back. “It’s Gollum!” she said. “And he wants to see Gwyneth.”
“Gollum?” repeated Mum, Nick, and I in chorus. It so happened that
Lord of the Rings
was our favorite film of all time. Caroline was the only one who hadn’t been allowed to see it yet, because she was too
young.
Nick laughed. “Wow, that’s great, my preciousssss! I must take a look at Gollum.”
“Me too,” said Xemerius, but he went on dangling lazily from the chandelier, scratching his tummy.
“You must mean
Gordon
,” said Charlotte, standing up. “And he wants to see me. He’s too early, that’s all. I said eight thirty.”
“Oh, a boyfriend, little bunny?” inquired Aunt Maddy. “How nice! That will give
you something new to think about.”
Charlotte looked annoyed. “No, Aunt Maddy. Gordon is just a boy in my class, and I’m helping him with an essay.”
“But he said Gwyneth,” insisted Caroline. However, Charlotte had already pushed her aside and hurried out of the room. Caroline went after her.
“He can eat with us,” Aunt Glenda called after them. “Charlotte is always ready to help others,” she
added, turning to us. “By the way, Gordon Gelderman is the son of Kyle Arthur Gelderman.”
“Hear, hear,” said Xemerius.
“Whoever he may be,” said Mum.
“
Kyle Arthur Gelderman
,” repeated Aunt Glenda, stressing every syllable this time. “The department store tycoon! Doesn’t that mean anything to you? Typical—you have no idea about the people your daughter mixes with. Your commitment as a mother
leaves much to be desired. Well, the boy isn’t interested in Gwyneth, anyway.”
Mum groaned. “Glen, you really ought to take some more of those tablets for the change of life.”
Lady Arista was frowning so sternly that her eyebrows almost met in the middle, and she was already taking a deep breath, probably to send Mum and Aunt Glenda to bed without any dessert, when Caroline came back, saying
triumphantly, “And Gollum
did
want to see Gwyneth!”
I’d just put a large piece of quiche in my mouth. I almost spat it out again when I saw Gideon come into the room, followed by Charlotte, whose face had suddenly turned to stone.
“Good evening,” said Gideon politely. He was wearing jeans and a washed-out green shirt. He’d obviously showered since we got back, because his hair was still damp
and curling wildly around his face. “I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to disturb you in the middle of your evening meal. I just wanted to see Gwyneth.”
For a moment, there was silence. That is, if you don’t count Xemerius, who was killing himself with laughter as he swung from the chandelier. I couldn’t say a word, because I was busy getting that piece of quiche down. Nick giggled, my mum looked
from Gideon to me and back again several times, Aunt Glenda got red marks on her throat, and the way Lady Arista looked at Gideon you might have thought he was an orange begonia.
Only Aunt Maddy remembered her manners. “You’re not disturbing us at all,” she said in friendly tones. “Here, sit down beside me. Charlotte, lay another place, would you?”
“Yup, a plate for Gollum,” Nick whispered to
me, grinning.
Charlotte ignored Aunt Maddy and went back to her own place at the table, still with that stony expression.
“That’s very kind of you, but no thanks. I’ve already eaten this evening,” said Gideon.
I’d finally managed to get the bit of quiche down, and I quickly got to my feet. “And I’ve had enough,” I said. “Is it all right if I leave the table?” I looked first at Mum and then
at my grandmother.
The two of them exchanged a strange look, as if they understood something that we didn’t. Then they sighed deeply in unison.
“Of course,” said Mum.
“But there’s chocolate cake for dessert,” Caroline reminded me.
“We’ll save a piece for Gwyneth.” Lady Arista nodded to me. Rather awkwardly, I went toward Gideon.
“And there was deathly silence in the room,” Xemerius whispered
from the chandelier. “All eyes rested on the girl in the piss-yellow blouse.…”
Eek, he was right. I was cross with myself for not showering and changing quickly when I came in—the stupid school uniform was about the least attractive outfit I had. But who could have guessed I’d have a visitor this evening? And one I wanted to look good for?
“Hi,” said Gideon, smiling for the first time since
he’d come into the room.
I smiled shyly back. “Hi, Gollum.”
Gideon’s smile widened.
“Even the shadows on the walls were silent, while the two of them looked at each other as if they’d just sat on a whoopee cushion,” said Xemerius, coming down from the chandelier and flying after us. “Romantic violin music began to play as the girl in the piss-yellow blouse and the boy who badly needed a haircut
walked out of the room side by side.” He was still flying along behind us, but when we reached the stairs, he turned left. “The clever and handsome demon Xemerius would have followed them to play gooseberry, if he hadn’t had to satisfy his appetite after seeing so many emotions on display. Today he was finally going to eat the ghost of the fat clarinet player who haunted number 23 and murdered
the music of Glen Miller all day.” He waved, and then disappeared through the window of the corridor.
* * *
WHEN WE REACHED
my room, I saw with relief that, luckily, I’d had no time to wreck the wonderfully tidy state in which Aunt Maddy had left it on Wednesday. Okay, so the bed was unmade, but it was the work of a moment to pick up the few clothes lying around and put them on the chair
with the others. Then I turned to Gideon, who hadn’t said a word all the way upstairs. Well, he’d had no choice, because I was still feeling so shy that, after Xemerius left us, I’d started talking nineteen to the dozen. I’d chattered and chattered as if I were under some compulsion, telling him about all the pictures we passed, about eleven thousand of them. “Those are my great-grandparents—I’ve
no idea why they had themselves painted in oils, there were photographers in their day. The fat child on the stool is Great-great-great-great-great-uncle Hugh as a little boy, with his sister Petronella and three rabbits. This is a duchess whose name I can’t remember—no relation, but in the picture she’s wearing a necklace that belonged to the Montrose family, so she’s allowed to hang here. And now
we’re on the second floor, so you can admire Charlotte in all the pictures in this corridor. Every three months, Aunt Glenda takes her to a photographer who apparently also takes pictures of the royal family. This one’s my favorite: Charlotte aged ten with a pug who had bad breath. Somehow you can see it from the way Charlotte looks, don’t you think?” And so on and so forth. It was terrible. I
didn’t manage to stop until we reached my room, and then only because there were no pictures there.
I straightened the bedspread, unobtrusively hiding my Hello Kitty nightshirt under the pillow, and then turned to look at Gideon. I waited. It would be fine for him to say something now.
But he didn’t. He just kept smiling at me as if he couldn’t really believe in what he saw. My heart leaped
and then missed a beat. Oh, great! It could cope with a sword thrust, no problem, but Gideon was too much for it. Especially when he was looking the way he did now.
“I tried to call you before I came, but you weren’t answering your mobile,” he said at last.
“The battery needs recharging.” It had given out in the middle of my conversation with Lesley in the limousine taking me home. Gideon didn’t
reply to that, so I took the mobile out of my skirt pocket and began looking for the charger. Aunt Maddy had coiled its cable up neatly and put it away in a drawer in my desk.
Gideon was leaning back against the door. “That was quite a day, wasn’t it?”
I nodded. The mobile was plugged in again now. Since I didn’t know what else to do, I propped myself on the edge of the desk.
“I think it was
the worst day in my entire life,” said Gideon. “When you were lying there on the floor…” His voice faltered slightly. He moved away from the door and came toward me.
I suddenly felt an overpowering need to comfort him. “I’m sorry I … I gave you such a fright. But I really did think I was going to die.”
“So did I.” He swallowed and took another step toward me.
Even though Xemerius had gone off
for his date with the clarinet player long ago, part of my mind was still adding his running commentary. “His flashing green eyes kindled the flame of her heart under the piss-yellow blouse. Clinging close to his manly breast, she let her tears flow freely.”