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“It’s in A. A. Milne’sThe Red House Mystery,” Amity says.
“Next toThe House at Pooh Corner?” Wyatt says.
“Entirely different. Milne wrote eclectically, you know. First, he was a humorist atPunch, and when he told his agent and publisher he was going to write a detective novel, they told him that what the country wants from a humorist is more humor. Then, after the success ofThe Red House Mystery, when he said he wanted to write nursery rhymes, they insisted that his public wanted a new detective story. But Milne was adamant that the only reason to write something is that you want to write it. He said he’d be as proud to writea telephone directory ‘con amore’ as he would be ashamed to create a blank verse tragedy because someone else wanted him to.”
“Sound advice,” says Wyatt.
Amity looks up at him, like she’s giving it serious thought.
“I suppose it is.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Amity takes out her map and says, “Next stop Gordon’s Cha Cha,” which still sounds slightly obscene.
Wyatt looks at his phone. “We have to walk three blocks to the river, over a bridge, and across a big parking lot.”
Before we head toward Gordon’s, Germaine approaches and asks to have a word.
“With me?” I ask.
Germaine is exactly my height but makes me feel small.
“We haven’t formally met,” she says, “but you know who I am and vice versa. All is well? Wisteria Cottage suits you?”
“It’s lovely.”
“Roommates amicable enough?”
My roommates are standing there with me.
“They’re great.”
I introduce Wyatt and Amity. Germaine greets them warmly but seems only interested in me. I smooth down my hair, which I sense has wigged out from the humidity.
“I wanted to say something about your mother,” she says.
“Oh, no worries. It’s been months now. I’m fine.”
“Not condolences, my dear. I believe I already expressed them in my email. I hope it’s not too strange to be here without her.”
How do I explain to Germaine how much stranger it would be to be herewithmy mother? If we were in England together, would she still find a way to cut out early?
“It’s unusual to be here, period,” I say.
“I’m sure,” Germaine says. “But what I’m eager to know is, are you going to continue her quest?”
“What quest?”
“To find whomever she was searching for, of course.”
This is apparently of great interest to Wyatt and Amity, both of whom take a step closer. I tell Germaine I have no idea what she’s talking about.
“No? How peculiar. Your mother, whose many emails were delightful, led me to believe she had a very particular reason to be here, maybe even to find someone. She was coy about it, but in a delightful manner, like she was anticipating something wonderful. I’m so sorry she died. I feel we would have been good friends.”
Another person charmed by Skye Little.
I fold my arms. I know I look defensive, but I don’t care.