Page 29 of The Blairville Legacies

Mum didn’t answer me, but her expression softened a little.

“Can we go to that market together on Wednesday that you told me about?”

From the change of subject, I hoped to take her mind off things.

She started eating again.

“Yes, I’d love to.” Her voice had softened. “I need something for the cake anyway.”

I guess I had kind of blocked it out, but now I remembered that Friday was my birthday.

I bit my tongue.

Please not...I didn’t like my birthday because I remembered all too well the days when I had celebrated it.

I was seven years old and had invited all my friends – at least, I was convinced at the time that they were my friends. No one came, and no one showed up for my ninth birthday either. Since then, I had stopped having parties.

In retrospect, it had turned out that all these kids had been at the party of my then best friend Olivia, who had always celebrated on the same day as me on purpose, but after finding out I simply didn’t have the desire for any more parties.

“There’s also a bookstore near the market. If you want...”

“Yes!” it escaped me, and I just managed to keep my delighted tone in check.

Ever since I was a little girl, I loved to spend time with books. It was something like my passion, from the very beginning, and I mostly lived in a wide variety of literary worlds, from classic literature to crime novels to fantasy novels, even if it had taken me a long time to get into the last category.

“And if you need anything else for university, let me know. Then I’ll show you the stationery store.”

By now, Mum was smiling again, and I was glad that the mood wasn’t so glum anymore. And even though I didn’t like it when she tried to make conversation to cover up something else, it was okay. For now.

“Oh, and tomorrow night, we’ll have guests. I’ll be cooking. Please be nice to the Bardots.”

The look on her face told me she was serious. With that, I also knew immediately who theBardotsmust be.

“You’re inviting the neighbors? Both of them?”

I had no problem with the cop. He seemed like a nice man. But his son?

“All four of them.”

I choked on a noodle and reached for the water glass.

“All four of them?”

Mum smiled. “Graham’s mother, Rosalie, will be there, too.”

“And who’s number four?” I echoed, hoping there wasn’t another annoyingly grinning one.

“Julian’s sister. She’s two years younger than you and a very kind girl.”

Relieved, I expelled the pent-up air and brought the glass back to my lips.

“Please behave a little more tomorrow than you did at noon today. The Bardots are nice neighbors.”

Behave?

I didn’t have the very best manners; however, I wasn’t a toddler anymore either.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll just build a tower of potatoes and throw silverware around. The usual.”

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