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But on Wednesday evenings, when Lady Arista, Aunt Glenda, and Charlotte were away, busy with their mysteries, supper was much more relaxed. And we all thought it was great that today felt like a Wednesday evening, although it was only Monday. Not that we slurped our food, smacked our lips, and belched, but we did venture to interrupt each other, put our elbows on the table, and discuss subjects that Lady Arista would have thought unsuitable.
Chameleons, for instance.
“Do you like chameleons, Aunt Maddy? Wouldn’t you like to have one someday? A really tame one?”
“Well, er, now that you mention it, I realize I’ve always wanted a chameleon,” said Great-aunt Maddy, heaping rosemary-seasoned potatoes on her plate. “Yes, definitely.”
Caroline beamed. “Maybe your wish will come true someday soon.”
“Did Lady Arista and Glenda leave any message?” asked Mum.
“Your mother called this afternoon to say they wouldn’t be home for supper,” said Great-aunt Maddy. “I said how sorry we’d all be not to see them. I hope that was all right.”
“You bet.” Nick giggled.
“And Charlotte? Has she…?” asked Mum.
“I don’t think so. Not yet.” Great-aunt Maddy shrugged. “But they’re expecting it any moment now. The poor girl keeps feeling dizzy, and now she has a migraine as well.”
“Oh, dear, I do feel sorry for her,” said Mum. She put her fork down and stared absentmindedly at the dark paneling of the dining room, which looked as if someone had confused the walls with the floor and covered them with wooden parquet.
“Suppose Charlotte doesn’t travel back in time at all?” I asked.
“It will happen sooner or later,” said Nick, imitating our grandmother’s confident tones.
Everyone laughed except for Mum and me.
“But suppose it doesn’t? Suppose they’ve made a mistake, and Charlotte doesn’t have this gene after all?” I persisted.
This time Nick imitated Aunt Glenda’s voice. “Even when she was a baby, anyone could see that Charlotte was born to higher things. She can’t be compared with ordinary people.”
Once again everyone laughed. Except for Mum. “What makes you think that, Gwyneth?”
“I was only…” I hesitated.
“I told you why there can’t possibly be any mistake, dear,” said Great-aunt Maddy.
“Yes, because Sir Isaac Newton was a genius, and a genius can’t get his sums wrong,” I said. “I know. But why did Newton work out Charlotte’s date of birth in the first place?”
“Aunt Maddy!” Mum looked reproachfully at Great-aunt Maddy.
Great-aunt Maddy tut-tutted. “Oh, dear, she went on and on at me, asking questions. What was I to do? She’s just like you when you were little, Grace. And apart from that, she promised to keep quiet as a mouse about it.”
“Only to Grandmother,” I said. “Did Isaac Newton invent that chronograph thing as well?”
“You little telltale,” said Great-aunt Maddy. “I’m not saying any more.”
“What chronograph thing?” asked Nick.
“It’s a time machine for sending Charlotte back into the past,” I explained. “And it uses Charlotte’s blood for fuel.”
“Gross!” said Nick, and Caroline screeched, “Yuck, blood!”
“Can you travel into the future with the chronograph as well?” asked Nick.
Mum groaned. “Now look what you’ve done, Aunt Maddy.”
“They’re your children, Grace,” said Great-aunt Maddy, smiling. “It’s only natural for them to want to know what’s going on.”
