Chapter Twenty-two
“Are you sure you don’t mind doing this?” Maali asked as she followed Rose into the coffee shop.
“Of course not. Although I can’t think why you would want to know how to talk to guys – all they ever want to talk about are sports and themselves.”
Maali blushed. “It’s not all guys, it’s…”
“One guy?” Rose raised her eyebrows. “I see. OK, watch and learn, sister.” She headed over to the end of the counter where a Mediterranean-looking barista was tapping some used coffee grounds into a bin. Maali watched as Rose took off her woolly hat and shook out her hair. “Hey,” she said softly to the barista, pursing her bud of a mouth into a pout. Maali edged closer.
The barista turned to Rose and grinned. “Hey. What can I get you?”
“What do you recommend?”
Maali studied Rose. She’d lowered her head slightly and was gazing at the barista from beneath her long eyelashes. His grin widened, as if it were blooming beneath her gaze.
“Well, it depends what you’re in the mood for.” Something about the way he said it made Maali think he wasn’t just talking coffee any more.
“Something really strong,” Rose said. “We’ve been working all afternoon and I need a kick-start.”
At the mention of the word “we” the barista finally flicked a glance at Maali. She lowered her gaze the way Rose had, but he’d already turned away.
“It sounds as if you need one of our new Colombian espressos,” he said to Rose. “They have a really rich flavour. Almost chocolatey, with a hint of oak.”
“That sounds awesome.” Rose sighed. “Thank you so much!”
Maali had never heard Rose so enthused. It was as if the barista had just told her he’d give her a life-saving kidney. But he didn’t look suspicious – if anything he was gazing at Rose even more adoringly.
“And your friend?” he said, still looking at Rose.
“Oh, could I have a chai latte, please? That would be awesome,” Maali said, trying to mimic the same soft tone Rose had used.
“What?” The barista dragged his gaze away from Rose.
“A chai latte would be awesome,” Maali said in her normal voice.
“Cool.” He reached up to the shelf behind him to get some cups.
Rose winked at Maali before turning back to the barista. “So tell me, where are you from originally?”
“I’m from Florence,” he replied. “The city of love.”
“I thought that was Venice,” Rose said.
He shook his head. “Huh, they like to think so, but it isn’t true. Are you from America?”
“Uh-huh, New York. The city that never sleeps.”
“This is a good combination.” The barista took a fresh scoop of grounds and put them into the coffee maker.
Rose looked at him questioningly. “What is?”
“You and me. The city of love and the city that never sleeps.” He winked at Rose. Maali cringed, but to her surprise, Rose threw her head back and laughed.
“So, are you here on holiday?” the barista asked as he poured their drinks.
Rose shook her head. “No. Living here. For the moment, anyway.”
Maali sighed as she tried to imagine talking to Ash so effortlessly. Rose’s face hadn’t flushed once. She didn’t look flustered in the slightest.
The barista placed their cups on a tray. He scribbled something on the receipt and handed it to Rose. “My number,” he said. “If you ever fancy meeting for a drink, Miss City That Never Sleeps.”
Rose put the receipt in her coat pocket, all the while gazing at the barista from beneath her eyelashes. “Thank you,” she murmured.
It wasn’t until they got to a table at the far end of the café that her smile faded. She passed Maali her drink. “So, did you see what I did?”
“I think so. Speak softly and smile a lot and look at them like this.” Maali lowered her gaze.
“Yes. And ask them about themselves and laugh at their crappy jokes.”
Maali stared at Rose, wondering why she seemed so bitter. She was about to ask if she had a boyfriend when Rose’s phone began to ring. “Sorry, won’t be a minute,” she said, and took the call. “Yes?… What rugby night out? But I thought we were going to the movies… OK… I’m not in a mood, that’s fine. Have fun… Yep. See you.” Rose terminated the call and sighed. Her face was an angry red. She put her phone down. “Men! I’m telling you, they’re all completely self-obsessed.”
Maali looked down. Ash hadn’t seemed self-obsessed, he’d seemed really nice. She heard Rose sigh again and looked up.
“So, who is he, then?” Rose asked. “The guy you like.”
“Oh, someone I met a couple of weeks ago.”
“He doesn’t go to your school?”
“No. He works around here.” Maali cringed. The more she talked about Ash the more stupid the whole thing seemed. She’d only seen him twice and had barely spoken to him. Why was she going to all this trouble for someone she barely knew? Because he might be your soulmate, her inner voice gushed. Maali made a mental note to never, ever say this to Rose.
Rose’s phone rang again. “What?” she answered sharply.
Maali could hear the tinny sound of a woman’s voice on the other end. It sounded as if she was yelling.
“OK, no need to stress,” Rose said. “I’m having coffee with a friend… No one you know… I don’t know – soon… All right, no need to shout… I don’t know where she is – up a tree, writing a poem?… OK, OK. I’ll be back in half an hour.” Rose put her phone back in her pocket. “I’m really sorry, I’m going to have to go. My mother is having a total hissy fit.”
Maali nodded. “That’s OK. Thank you so much for today.”
Rose looked at her and her expression softened. “You’re welcome. I had a great time at your mom’s store. Thank you for inviting me.” She put her hat on and tucked the rest of her long hair under her coat. “I guess I’ll see you Tuesday, then, at the next meeting.”
“Yes. Definitely.”
Rose downed her tiny coffee and stood up. “Ask him about himself, laugh at his jokes and stare at him like he’s going out of fashion.”
Maali looked at her blankly.
“Your guy. Do all that and you’ll have him eating out of your hand.”
Maali smiled. “Right. Will do.” She took a sip of her chai latte and watched as Rose made her way down the café. Even the way she walked screamed confidence, hips swinging loosely from side to side, her gaze focused ahead.
“See you soon, I hope, Miss New York!” the barista called after her.
“Yeah, whatever,” Rose called back, and headed out the door.
Chapter Twenty-three
“So, I was wondering,” Amber said as Daniel passed the gravy to Gerald. “Would it be possible for you guys to take me to Paris for my birthday?”
Daniel’s face lit up. “Paris?”
“Absolutely not,” Gerald said, pouring some gravy over his dinner before passing the jug to Amber.
Amber stared at him. “Why?”
Gerald gave one of his theatrical sighs, the ones that in sigh-language translated as, Why, oh why, do you have to be so tiresome? “I have exhibitions about to open on both sides of the Atlantic. I don’t have time for any jaunts to Paris.” He picked up his knife and fork and began to eat. The classical music playing on the radio built to a crescendo, perfectly mirroring Amber’s growing disbelief. Surely he wasn’t still sulking about that stupid Skype interview? Surely he wouldn’t take it out on her on her birthday?
“But – it’s my birthday.”
Gerald placed his knife and fork down on his plate, slowly and deliberately. “I didn’t say we wouldn’t celebrate your birthday. I said I can’t go on any trips anywhere for the foreseeable future.”
“Perhaps we could fit in a day trip?” Daniel said. “The Eurostar only takes a couple of hours—”
“Fit in a daytrip?” Gerald gave another
sigh. “Darling, I can’t fit in an afternoon tea right now. You know how busy I am.”
“I know, but it is Amber’s sixteenth.”
Gerald shook his head. “Paris isn’t going to go anywhere. We can visit in the new year – after the exhibitions – oh, and the Salvador Dali Awards. Did I tell you that Sergei says I could be in with a real chance this year?” He lifted his glass of wine as if he were toasting his own brilliance and took a swig.
Hurt bubbled up inside Amber until it burned at the corners of her eyes. She’d taken it for granted that her parents would agree to her birthday request. She’d spent all afternoon in the shop dreaming of going to see Oscar Wilde’s grave. She should have known Gerald would ruin it.
“Would that be OK, honey?” Daniel asked, his eyes full of concern. “If we went in springtime, once all the exhibitions are over?”
Amber’s birthday was at the end of November. If they went in spring it would be an entire season too late.
“Don’t worry about it,” she muttered. She looked down at her dinner and the tears filling her eyes made the meat and vegetables merge into one. Damn. The last thing she wanted was to let Gerald see how hurt she was. “I think I’m going to go to my room. I’m not very hungry.”
“Oh for goodness’ sake!” Gerald’s glass clinked against his plate as he put it down on the table.
“What?” Amber snapped.
“I didn’t say we couldn’t go. I said we couldn’t go just now. Why do you always have to sulk when you don’t get your own way?”
“Me?” Amber pushed her plate away and got to her feet. If she didn’t leave the room in the next few seconds she was going to tip the gravy jug all over his head. “How can you tell me off for sulking? You’ve been in a sulk for the past two weeks!”
“I have not!” Gerald pushed his plate away and glared at her.
“Yes, you have, just because I wouldn’t help you with that stupid Skype interview.”
“OK, guys, let’s calm down.” Daniel grabbed Amber’s hand. “Don’t go to your room, honey. We can sort this out.”
“There was nothing stupid about that interview,” Gerald boomed. “I told you, I inspired that young man to become an artist. I was his muse. It was incredibly rude of you to refuse to help me.”
“Oh, really?” Amber pulled away from Daniel and glared at Gerald. “Well, it was incredibly rude of you to miss my school debate.”
She marched from the kitchen and up to her bedroom, taking the steep steps two at a time.
“Aaaaargh!” she yelled as she flung herself down on her bed. Gerald was insufferable. How could he call her the rude one? The email notification on her phone pinged and for a moment she felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe it was from Sky or one of the other Moonlight Dreamers. But when she went to her inbox she saw it was from Dictionary.com. Amber clicked the message open and read her word of the day:
Slangwhanger: a loud, obnoxiously offensive person
She flung her phone down triumphantly. This wasn’t mere coincidence. Even Dictionary.com knew that Gerald was vile. She vowed to call him a slangwhanger at the first opportunity. There was a knock on her bedroom door. Amber sat upright, her heart pounding. Maybe she’d have the opportunity right now.
“Honey, can I come in?” Daniel called.
Amber sank back against her pillows. “Yes, OK.”
Daniel entered the room and perched on the end of her bed. “I’m so sorry,” he said.
Amber felt a prickle of hope. I can’t stay another moment with that slangwhanger, she imagined Daniel saying. You and I are moving out. You are my biological daughter, after all.
“You know how tense he gets before exhibitions,” Daniel said. “And this time he’s got two of them. But we will go to Paris. I promise.”
Amber sat up a bit. “What? Just you and me? On my actual birthday?”
Daniel shook his head. “No, the three of us. Once the exhibitions are over.”
“But that won’t be till the spring.”
“I know. But don’t worry. We’ll do something really fun in London on your birthday.”
Amber suddenly felt exhausted by it all. She was sick of Gerald demanding his own way all the time and Daniel and her having to bend to fit around him like they were made of Plasticine.
“I hate him,” she muttered.
“Amber!”
“No, I really do. It’s not just tonight. It’s him generally. He’s so selfish.” She shifted closer to Daniel and lowered her voice. “I just want you to know that if you are only staying with him because of me, it’s OK. We can leave. I truly won’t mind. Why would I? He’s not even my dad.”
Daniel looked at her, shocked. “How do—”
“It’s obvious,” Amber interrupted. “I mean, I look way more like you and I’m nothing like that – that slangwhanger.”
Daniel’s eyes widened. “That what? Amber – I—”
“It’s OK. You don’t need to say anything. I just wanted you to know that I know and I would be totally fine about us leaving him.”
“Right.” Daniel’s face creased into a frown. “Right…” He took hold of her hand again. “We’re both your dads, Amber.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
“No, really, we are. And I’m not going to leave Gerald. I love him, in spite of him being a slangwhanger, whatever that might be.”
“But—”
“But nothing.” Daniel gripped her hand tighter. “We’re a family, sweetheart, and families have their ups and downs, but they stick together.”
Amber stared at him. “No, they don’t. Families break up all the time. Forty-two per cent of marriages now end in divorce. It’s true. I looked it up.”
“You looked it up?”
“Yes.”
Daniel sighed. “Well, Gerald and I are definitely not getting divorced.”
The hope inside Amber spluttered and died like a damp firework. “But why?”
“Because I love him.”
“But why?”
“Because he’s Gerald.” Daniel sighed again. “Look, I know he can be tiring, but he can also be loads of fun, and life certainly isn’t dull when he’s around. And he’s got a heart of gold underneath all that bluster.”
Amber raised her eyebrows.
“He has. He gives away thousands to charity every year and he did set up that scholarship fund. The way I see it, his more tiring aspects are the price we pay for the good stuff.”
Amber kept staring at Daniel in disbelief. What good stuff?
“Why don’t you come back down and finish your dinner?”
Amber shook her head. “I’m really not hungry. But you go down. I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?”
Amber nodded.
Daniel moved closer and gave her a hug. Usually Daniel’s hugs felt like the safest place in the world but not this time, not after what he’d just said. Her only escape route had just been boarded up.
When Daniel left, Amber lay down and stared at the ceiling. Great. Her pretend dad was a slangwhanger and her real dad was too nice and forgiving to see it.
One thing was becoming glaringly obvious. She was going to have to make the Moonlight Dreamers work. Her entire future happiness depended on it.
From: [email protected]
To:[email protected]; [email protected]; [email protected]
Date: Sunday 1st November 19:05
Subject: Next meeting
Dear Moonlight Dreamers,
I have found a venue for our next meeting. Meet me at the corner of Hanbury Street and Wilkes Street at 7pm on Tuesday. Dress warmly and please bring something moon-related.
Best wishes,
Amber
Chapter Twenty-four
Sky raced up Brick Lane, checking the time on her phone. It was almost ten past seven. She was late, and it was all Rose’s fault. She’d assumed Rose would be coming home straight from school and they’d go to the meeting together. But Sky had
waited as long as she could and there’d been no sign of her. She should have known this would happen. Rose was probably taking advantage of the fact that Liam and Savannah were away and had gone out partying with her friends.
Liam had taken Savannah to a Buddhist monastery for an overnight retreat in a bid to stop her having a complete nervous breakdown. OK, he hadn’t exactly said that. He’d said it was because Savannah was “interested in finding out more about him and his life”, but Sky knew the truth. Ever since the story about Savannah had broken last week she’d bounced like an emotional pinball from upset to super nice (to Sky at least) to raging. Sky had heard her yelling at Rose the night before about coming home late. “Who the hell do you think you are, treating this place like a hotel?” she’d screamed. Sky hadn’t heard Rose’s reply, but the whole road had probably heard her bedroom door slam.
Sky turned into Hanbury Street. A group of people was clustered around one of the doorways. “This is where Jack the Ripper murdered his first victim,” she heard one of them – obviously some kind of tour guide – say. Sky shivered. The cafés and clothes shops had closed for the night, and a thin mist hung in the cold air. It was easy to picture how it had been back in the days when Jack the Ripper had prowled these streets, looking for victims. Sky looked up the road to see if there was any sign of Amber and Maali: Google Maps had said that Wilkes Street was somewhere on the left. And then she spotted them, standing beneath an old-fashioned lamp post. Amber was wearing a long men’s overcoat that almost came down to her ankles. Maali was in a pretty cape-style coat with a huge pink scarf wrapped round and round her neck.
“Hey! Sorry I’m late,” Sky gasped as she ran up to them.
“That’s OK,” Amber said briskly.
“Where’s Rose?” Maali asked, looking around, slightly disappointed.
“I don’t think she’s coming.” Sky looked at Amber apologetically. “Sorry.” The truth was, she wasn’t sorry at all. The meeting would be way more relaxed without Rose there.
“She is,” Amber said. “She texted me earlier to say she’d be a bit late coming back from work experience.”
The Moonlight Dreamers Page 12
