The Mum Mystery Read online

  ‘I don’t know, Esmie.’ He sniffed. ‘Look, when she broke up with me she said I wasn’t mature enough – that she wanted to go out with somebody older. So that’s Ian – not me.’ ‘Ian’s only a couple of years older than you,’ I said. ‘And anyway, he’s totally gross.’

  ‘Jennifer doesn’t seem to think that.’

  ‘Well, she might after she’s actually gone out with him on a date,’ I said. ‘Look, Matthew it’s up to you . . . but Carys says to text her if you want to take her out tonight. Her number’s on the back of the photo. Oh – and apparently she loves burgers.’

  While Dad and I were washing up the breakfast things, I asked him if it was OK for me to phone my grandma in Chicago that afternoon.

  He nodded. ‘But for goodness sake don’t wake her up at five in the morning like you did the last time.’ (The UK is six hours ahead of Chicago and I have a bad habit of forgetting that.) ‘I’m going to meet Lizzie in town later,’ he continued. ‘Your brother can stay here with you until I get back.’

  ‘Aren’t I allowed to come too?’

  ‘Not this time. I’m taking Lizzie out to lunch.’

  ‘Is it a romantic lunch?’ I asked hopefully.

  He sighed. ‘Sometimes Lizzie and I like to have some time to ourselves, Esmie, that’s all.’

  But I was thinking about that article in Holly’s mum’s magazine that had surveyed all the places where different readers’ marriage proposals had occurred. Near the top of the list, just behind romantic weekends away, had been romantic meals in restaurants – especially if the restaurant held some kind of special significance for the couple concerned.

  ‘I know!’ I told him excitedly. ‘Why don’t you take her to that nice French restaurant – the one where you and Lizzie first met?’

  ‘That was a nice restaurant,’ he agreed.

  ‘You should book a table,’ I told him. And I rushed off to look up the number in the telephone directory before he could change his mind.

  I was so desperate to phone my grandmother that when two o’clock came (which meant it would be eight in the morning in Chicago) I couldn’t hold off any longer.

  The phone rang out a few times before Grandma answered. She didn’t sound too sleepy so I guessed I probably hadn’t woken her up.

  ‘Hi, Grandma, it’s me – Esmie!’

  ‘Esmie! Ah!’ She sounded pleased, and we chatted for a while about all the usual things, including the fact that she and my step-grandad were coming to stay with us for Christmas. Then I told her I had something to ask her about my mother. ‘Grandma, I was wondering if you could remember the names of any of the friends she had when she was my age.’

  ‘What a funny question, Esmie. Now let me think . . . Her best friend in primary school was called Heather. Then there was Theresa who lived round the corner from us. There were several others, but—’

  ‘What about Rusty or Kirsten or Amanda?’ I interrupted her.

  ‘Oh, well . . . yes . . . Kirsten and Amanda were the girls we knew in Brighton.’

  I was so surprised I couldn’t speak. So Nevada hadn’t been making it up.

  ‘How on earth did you find out about them?’ Grandma asked, sounding curious.

  ‘Oh, it’s just something someone . . . um . . . told me . . .’ I mumbled.

  ‘Something who told you?’

  I knew I couldn’t tell her the truth, and I also knew I had to come up with some sort of explanation fast. ‘Dad’s been clearing some stuff out of the loft and there were things up there that belonged to my mum, so . . . so we’ve been talking about her. He gave me a jewellery box that belonged to her too.’

  ‘That big wooden box, you mean?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Oh, she loved that. It was the girls in Brighton who gave it to her!’

  ‘Really?’ I exclaimed. ‘That’s . . . that’s . . .’ I was speechless because it was all making perfect sense now – well, perfect psychic sense at least. I started to feel a bit trembly, as if I needed to lie down.

  ‘It’s all a very long time ago, that’s what it is,’ Grandma said, sighing. ‘Still, it’s important to remember the past.’ And without me even asking, she began to tell me about the many summers she and my mother had spent in Brighton. ‘You see, one of my sisters – Esmerelda, who you were named after of course – had a holiday flat there. She used to let us use it whenever we wanted, so I often took your mother there for the whole of the summer holidays. Kirsten and Amanda were a similar age to your mother and they lived in the flat next door – a very nice family. They had a dog too – oh, I believe the dog was called Rusty! Anyway, the girls got along famously. They even invented their own club.’

  ‘What sort of club?’

  ‘Oh, they called themselves the Adventurous Four or the Famous Four – something like that. It was all very hush-hush. Your mother was very like you in a lot of ways, Esmie. She liked her secrets!’

  ‘Was she a bit of a drama queen as well?’ I asked.

  Grandma laughed. ‘She certainly could be at times!’

  When I came off the phone, I went and lay down on my bed, thinking about what my grandmother had told me and how, when Holly and I were younger, we had invented our own secret club too. We had turned the empty shed at the bottom of Holly’s garden into our headquarters, and Holly’s mum had made us a yellow curtain to pull across the window whenever we were having one of our secret meetings. We’d even made up our own club song, which we’d sing at the start of every meeting:

  We have a club, a very cool club,

  And we are the members o-of it,

  We’re loyal and true and wise and good,

  Just like the members of a club should.

  (OK, so it went a bit weird at the end, but we were only eight at the time and we thought the main thing was to make it rhyme.)

  I found myself wondering if my mum and her friends had had a club song and, if so, whether it had been nearly as daft as ours. And I smiled, because even though my mother wasn’t around to tell me all the things she’d done as a child, it seemed like I was still managing to follow in her footsteps a little bit.

  I knew I had to tell Nevada that she’d been right about those names, and I reckoned I ought to tell her sooner rather than later. After all, I’d been pretty disbelieving when she’d come round earlier.

  I hurried across the road to the Stevens’s place and rang the bell, hoping that Nevada’s uncle wasn’t going to be the one who answered the door. His car was gone from the driveway, so hopefully that meant he was out.

  The door was answered by Nevada’s sister, Carys, who I recognized straight away from her photo, though she looked smaller and younger in real life. Her hair was gorgeous – long, black and straight – but she was wearing jeans and a baggy jumper rather than a figure-hugging dress, and she didn’t have any make-up on.

  ‘Hi,’ I said. ‘I’m Esmie from across the road.’ I thought of adding, ‘Matthew’s sister,’ but decided against it. ‘Is Nevada in?’ I asked.

  She nodded. ‘I’ll get her.’ She yelled up the stairs, ‘NEVADA!’

  Nevada appeared at the top of the stairs and motioned for me to come up.

  ‘Where are your aunt and uncle?’ I asked, because there didn’t seem to be any sign of them.

  ‘Aunt Ruth’s gone to the shops and Uncle Frank’s at the garage with his car. They won’t be back for a bit.’

  She led me into her bedroom, which had flowery paper on the walls, an old-fashioned wardrobe and dressing table, and a double bed with a frilly bedspread. The dressing table was cluttered with Nevada’s things, and there were a couple of cuddly toys lying on a chair. But otherwise, apart from a pile of CDs stacked up next to a pretty funky-looking portable CD player, the room didn’t really look like it belonged to a girl my age.

  ‘A lot of my stuff’s gone into storage,’ she said, seeing me looking round. ‘Mum didn’t want us to clutter up Aunt Ruth’s house too much, since we aren’t going to be here for that long. So .
. . ?’ She paused expectantly.

  ‘Has Carys said any more to you about Matthew?’ I asked, quickly.

  She nodded. ‘He sent her a text and she texted him back. They’re going to Burger King at six o’clock tonight.’

  ‘He actually asked her out?’

  ‘Well, I think she asked him in the end, but he suggested Burger King and she agreed. I guess Jennifer will be there, won’t she?’

  ‘Yes!’ I took a deep breath, suddenly feeling nervous about telling her the main reason for my visit. ‘Nevada . . .’ I began. ‘You know those names you gave me . . . the ones you said were my mum’s friends when she was my age . . . well, I phoned my grandma and she said they were the same friends who gave my mother that jewellery box. They were called Amanda and Kirsten, and their dog was called Rusty.’

  ‘Told you so!’ Nevada started to smile.

  ‘I know,’ I said. ‘It’s spooky isn’t it?’

  ‘Not really. I told you I was psychic, didn’t I?’

  ‘Yes, but . . .’ I trailed off.

  ‘But you didn’t believe me?’

  ‘Sorry,’ I murmured. I paused. ‘Nevada . . . does this mean . . . does this mean you can put me in touch with my mother?’

  She looked at me very seriously. ‘I’m not sure . . . but if you wait a minute, there’s something I can try right now.’ She went over to the wardrobe and opened it. ‘My mum doesn’t know I’ve got this,’ she said, crouching down to lift something out of the bottom, which she had hidden behind her shoes. When she turned round again I saw that she was holding a crystal ball.

  ‘Wow!’ I gasped. ‘Is it real?’

  ‘Of course! It’s my mum’s spare one.’

  I stared at the glass ball in awe. ‘Can I touch it?’

  ‘Sure. You can hold it if you like. It won’t respond to you though.’

  She handed the ball to me and I was surprised by how heavy it was. The glass inside was flecked with different colours, and looking into it was like peering inside a miniature glass universe.

  ‘OK, put it down on the floor,’ she told me, and as I carefully placed it on the carpet, she sat down cross-legged in front of it. ‘Sit opposite me,’ she instructed.

  I watched her stretch out both hands, palms downwards, so they were almost touching the crystal ball. She was frowning and peering into it as if she was searching for something, then she lowered her hands and touched the surface of the glass very lightly with her fingers.

  She sat there for ages not saying anything while I stared at her in awe.

  ‘I see a wedding,’ she finally said.

  I gasped. ‘Really? Is it Dad and Lizzie’s?’

  ‘I see a white dress, confetti, a church . . .’

  I frowned. ‘Dad said once that if he and Lizzie ever do get married it will probably be in a registry office.’

  ‘It might not be a church – it could be another sort of building. There’s a ring – a gold ring. Everyone’s happy . . .’

  ‘When is it?’ I asked.

  ‘It’s in your future. It could be in your near future or in your distant future – but there’s a wedding there definitely.’ She had taken her hands away from the crystal ball now. ‘That’s all it’s telling me.’

  ‘But that’s brilliant!’ I exclaimed. ‘I really want Dad and Lizzie to get married. It must be their wedding!’

  Nevada nodded. ‘It could be.’

  Suddenly we heard the front door closing and Nevada’s aunt calling out, ‘I’m home, girls!’

  ‘Quick,’ Nevada said, jumping up. ‘She’ll go mad if she finds me showing you this. She thinks it’s a load of rubbish.’

  By the time Mrs Stevens had come up the stairs, the crystal ball was safely back in the wardrobe, and Nevada and I were sitting on the bed flicking through a magazine – which just happened to contain several photos of a celebrity’s wedding. There was one picture that I especially liked, so Nevada tore it out for me.

  ‘I’d better go,’ I said, looking at my watch. ‘Dad and Lizzie will be back soon.’

  ‘Let’s keep our fingers crossed about tonight,’ Nevada said.

  ‘What’s happening tonight?’ Mrs Stevens asked as she put her head round the door to see what we were doing.

  ‘Oh, Carys is going out on a date, that’s all,’ Nevada said quickly.

  ‘Really? With who?’

  ‘It’s just some boy she’s met since we moved here.’

  ‘How can she have met any boys here? She scarcely leaves the house.’

  ‘She was going to tell you about it, Aunt Ruth,’ Nevada replied. ‘It’s just that you’ve been a bit tied up this morning, what with Uncle Frank’s car.’

  ‘I’d really better go,’ I said quickly. ‘See you later.’ And I made a hasty exit before the conversation about Nevada’s uncle’s car and Carys’s date could progress any further.

  As I crossed the street back to my own house, I wondered if Matthew had told Dad about his date tonight yet. It wasn’t as if Dad was likely to object – now that Matty’s sixteen, Dad gives him a lot more freedom, especially at the weekends – but he does always insist that Matthew tells him exactly where he’s going. And if Matty mentioned Burger King, Dad might get suspicious, because he knows Jennifer works there on Saturdays.

  Just as I was thinking I’d better warn Matty about that, Dad’s car turned into our street and I was instantly distracted by my eagerness to know the outcome of Dad and Lizzie’s lunch.

  I was waiting in the hall when they stepped in through the front door, and the first thing I did was look at the third finger of Lizzie’s left hand – the finger where an engagement ring would be if Dad had just given her one. After all, Nevada’s crystal ball had seemed pretty positive on the subject of weddings.

  There was no ring – and Dad and Lizzie didn’t even ask why I was staring so pointedly at Lizzie’s hand – but I didn’t let that put me off. ‘Well?’ I asked as they took off their coats. ‘Did you have a nice time? Did anything exciting happen while you were there?’

  ‘Lizzie found a hair in her French omelette,’ Dad said. ‘That was quite exciting. I’m not sure we’ll be eating there again though.’

  ‘We had a lovely time, thank you, Esmie,’ Lizzie said, frowning at Dad as if she thought he might have offended me, since the choice of restaurant had been my idea. (Lizzie is quite sensitive that way – unlike Dad.)

  ‘I was reading a magazine while you were out and there’s something in it I want to show you,’ I told them, taking the page Nevada had given me out of my pocket and unfolding it. I had been hoping I wouldn’t need to use the picture, but it was becoming increasingly clear to me that dropping hints with my usual subtlety just wasn’t going to do the trick.

  ‘Look, Dad – I’ve seen this really lovely dress!’ I said, handing it to him. ‘I think this colour would really suit me, don’t you?’

  I watched Dad’s face very closely to see how he would react, but he just stared at it dumbly as Lizzie moved across to look at the picture too.

  ‘See you later!’ I sang out, racing upstairs.

  Like I said before, my subtler hints just didn’t seem to be working – which was why I had shown them a photograph of a really gorgeous bridesmaid’s dress.

  I went straight to my brother’s room and knocked loudly. When he didn’t answer, I tried to go in, but found that I couldn’t, and since none of our bedrooms has a lock I guessed he must have pushed something against the inside of the door.

  ‘Matty, let me in! I want to talk to you!’ I called out.

  There was no reply, though I could hear him moving about inside.

  ‘Dad says we’re not allowed to block the doors to our rooms,’ I reminded him. ‘He says it’s a potential fire risk.’

  ‘Yeah, well, Dad thinks everything is a risk,’ Matty grunted, sounding miserable.

  ‘Matty, what’s wrong?’ I asked, genuinely concerned now.

  I heard him moving something away from the door, and when he opene
d it his eyes were red and puffy as if he had been crying again.

  ‘Oh, Matty, it’s going to be OK,’ I said, darting forward to give him a hug.

  ‘But I’ve arranged this date with Carys, and now I just feel even worse,’ Matthew said, actually letting me embrace him for a few seconds before shaking me off. ‘I don’t think I can go through with it, Esmie.’

  ‘Of course you can go through with it,’ I said firmly. ‘You’re going to make Jennifer really jealous tonight – you’ll see! Anyway, the date with Carys is all set up now, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yeah,’ he admitted.

  I lowered my voice. ‘But you’d better not tell Dad you’re going to Burger King. He knows Jennifer works there and he might think you’re just taking Carys there to cause trouble.’ I was about to add that maybe it wasn’t a great idea to mention that his date was with Carys.

  Matthew sighed. ‘Look – maybe I shouldn’t go there at all. If Jennifer fancies Ian, then maybe I just have to accept that.’

  ‘She can’t fancy him that much. He’s got red hair, and Holly says that girls hardly ever fancy boys with red hair.’

  To my surprise he actually laughed. ‘Yeah, well, we all know Holly talks a load of rubbish!’ But her rubbish seemed to have cheered him up, because he added, ‘I guess I shouldn’t give up without a fight, huh? I’d better go and tell Dad before he books me in for babysitting duties tonight.’

  I followed him downstairs and listened as he told our father about his date. ‘We’ll probably go and get something to eat in the High Street, OK?’

  ‘Fine.’ Dad was clearly delighted that Matthew had finally stopped moping over Jennifer. ‘Who’s the lucky girl then?’

  ‘Carys, from across the road,’ Matthew replied before I could stop him.

  Dad looked puzzled. ‘Ruth and Frank’s niece, you mean?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘I’m surprised they’re letting you take her out. Frank seemed pretty convinced that you were the one who vandalized his car.’

  Matthew shrugged. ‘Yeah, well, I guess he must have come to his senses.’