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“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.”
