‘Good for Amelie,’ I murmur as a sense of dread engulfs me. At some point I am going to have to explain the birds and the bees to Felix. I remember Vivi coming to me to ask what the word sex meant as some boys had been laughing about it in lessons. It was terrifying for me back then at fourteen. In the end I marched her to our local library, sat her down at an empty table and urged her to read the book I was shoving in her direction. While she sat and stared in horror at the illustrated diagrams of people having sex, I ate a packet of cola bottles and prayed for a sudden earthquake. Perhaps that book is still in print?
CHAPTER38
RORY
There’s no sign of Emily and Felix inside Vivi’s. The house is dark and locked up. I’ve come all this way and they’re not here. Sadness engulfs me. My bruised forehead and face let out a series of depressing aches and painful twinges. Snowflakes stick to my face as I turn to look up and down the tree-lined street for sight of Emily and Felix trudging back through the snow. They could have nipped out for a pint of milk or some teabags. Something on the ground by the front door catches my eye. Bending down I can see a tiny Christmas tree sticking out of a white carrier bag. There’s a note attached to the bag. In scrawly writing it reads:Felix – happy Christmas, Amelie. Remember nine-and-a-half-year-olds can change the world.
‘They’ve not been back home since yesterday,’ says an anxious voice, from over the fence, taking my attention away from the bag. ‘You look familiar. Where have I seen you before?’
Turning around I see the owner of the voice. It’s Vivi’s neighbour. Well, she’s Emily’s neighbour now I guess. The one who used to complain about the noise of Vivi’s parties. She’s dressed in a hand-knitted purple cardigan, a blue blouse, a grey woollen calf-length skirt, thick tights, and brown leather shoes. On the collar of her cardigan is an elegant brooch. Her pale blue eyes are inquisitive and are currently surveying every part of me. She reminds me of my old headmistress when I was in junior school, the one who used to patrol the playground and could spot a child being naughty within a hundred feet. She takes one look at the state of me and gasps. I must look something out of a horror movie.’
‘I’m Rory, Emily’s ex-boyfriend,’ I say holding up my hands. ‘You used to complain to Vivi, Emily’s sister about the noise of her music.’
She nods. ‘Yes, I remember you, Rory and the lovely bunch of flowers you bought me once after Vivi’s party had gone on until three in the morning. You were so thoughtful. Have you had some sort of accident?’
‘Yes. It’s a long story and I will save you from the gory details.’
She smiles. ‘I can see why Felix talks nonstop about you.’
I cast her a puzzled look.
‘Felix always talks about you whenever I chat to him on his way home from school.’
A warm feeling floods through my veins.
She rubs her arms. ‘Have you got time for a chat? I am very worried about Emily and Felix. You might be able to help.’
My heart breaks into a panic as I enter her living room. It’s warm and meticulously tidy. There are two large bookcases covering two of the walls and an old dresser on the third. By the window there are two high-backed armchairs and a nest of small coffee tables.
She hands me a hot cup of tea five minutes later. I’m slumped in her armchair by the window praying for my head to stop throbbing. ‘Drink this. You look like you should be resting. Have you come a long way?’
‘Leeds.’
Her eyes widen with surprise. ‘Well, that must have been quite a journey. I’m Miss Hemingway by the way. Now, I have been worried about Emily and Rory. They didn’t mention to me last night they were going to be away overnight.’
Sickness and fear form an alliance in my gut. ‘Where were they going?’
She takes a sip of her tea. ‘This is what worries me. They were going to London to see the lights, but I know Felix was planning a secret trip of his own.’
‘Maybe they stayed over in a hotel or something?’
I watch shadows race across Miss Hemingway’s face. ‘Felix told me the other day he was planning to carry out some secret mission in St Pancras station.’
‘Oh, I see.’
The chink and nervous rattle of her cup make me sit up straighter.
‘I should have said something to Emily. When they didn’t come home last night I panicked.’
‘I’m sure there’s a simple explanation.’
Miss Hemingway puts down her cup. ‘Rory, I shouldn’t tell tales, but things have not been great next door.’
‘What do you mean?’
She glances out of the window and turns back to me. ‘Felix and Emily shout a lot at each other. Some days morning, noon, and night. The other week Felix told me…’ Her voice trails off.
‘Told you what?’
