Dream a Little Dream (The Silver Trilogy) (F) by Kerstin Gier Read Free Book Online Page B

need to go to the toilet. Where, exactly…?”
    “Well, seeing you’re going to be at home here any moment now, you ought to be able to find the way yourself,” said Florence sharply.
    “You’re right,” I said. It couldn’t be all that difficult. I followed Grayson out into the corridor.
    “Do tell me, is your dad an internationally wanted terrorist or a serial murderer?” Mia was asking behind me in her sweetest voice.
    I didn’t hear what Florence replied to that.
    The first door I opened was a broom cupboard, but the second, right beside the way to the stairs, was the guest toilet. I looked for the light switch.
    “Not tonight, for heaven’s sake. I already told you.” The window stood ajar, and I could hear Grayson’s voice. He was obviously outside the house, talking on his cell phone. I didn’t switch the light on but went over to the window so that I could hear him better.
    “Yes, I know it’s the new moon tonight, but can’t we put the whole thing off until tomorrow evening for once? There’s all hell let loose here, and I don’t know whether I’ll be able to sleep at all tonight.… Yup, I do realize that we can’t put off the new moon just because of me, but … No, of course that’s not what I want. Okay, if you say so, Henry, I’ll try to … I hope I can find it. I suppose it was your idea, was it? I thought so.… No, I’ll tell you tomorrow. If I don’t go back indoors this minute, my sister will murder me.… Yes, thanks for your sympathy. See you later.”
    Hmm. Interesting. I sat on the toilet lid in the dark and entirely forgot what I was really there for. Contrary to all common sense, I felt a delicious sense of anticipation inside me. What had taken Grayson’s mind off our very own family tragedy so much this evening? What kind of transaction could take place only when the moon was new? And what did those words in Latin on Grayson’s wrist mean? It was clear as day that my future stepbrother had a secret—and I just loved secrets.
    I got back to the dining room in an inappropriately cheerful mood, just ahead of Grayson. And just before the Jehovah’s Witness and the serial murderer, in an atmosphere of family harmony, brought in the quails.
    The rest of the evening went comparatively undramatically. At least, until the moment when I knocked over my glass with such a sweeping movement that my shirt was drenched with orange juice from the collar to the hem. As Ernest had only just refilled the glass, adding ice cubes as well, my teeth immediately began to chatter.
    “I’ve been waiting for that all evening!” said Mom in her I-can-be-witty-too voice. “Knocking over glasses is one of my girls’ specialties.”
    “Oh, Mom! Last time that happened to me, I was seven years old! Ew, what’s that?” There was an ice cube melting inside my bra. (If I’d listened to Lottie’s advice and done up the two top buttons of my blouse, that wouldn’t have happened.) I quickly fished it out and put it on my plate, never mind whether that was the polite thing to do or not. Judging by the way Florence and Grayson were looking at me, it wasn’t.
    “Exactly,” said Mia. “If it’s anyone’s specialty, it’s mine.”
    “Cola! All over my computer keyboard,” Mom remembered. “And black currant juice on pure-white tablecloths. And assorted smoothies, usually spilled on carpets.”
    I dared not wring out the blouse, or I’d have drenched the Persian rug. It looked expensive.
    Ernest looked at me sympathetically. “Florence, be a good girl and get one of your tops for Liv. She’s freezing. She can’t go home like that.”
    “I get the idea!” Florence crossed her arms. “First I have to give them my rooms, now it’s my clothes, right?”
    You had to hand it to Florence for staying there at all until then. After all that drama, she could have marched out of the dining room, slamming the door behind her, to fling herself on her bed in floods of tears. At least, that’s