Free Icefire by Chris D'Lacey Page B

taut-looking Liz was sitting in her chair.
    “All right, I’m away,” David announced. “Thanks for having me. I’ll be back for the bigger stuff in a few days.”
    He smiled and pulled the door shut.
    He was halfway up the drive when Liz came tearing after him. She put herself in front of him and held his arms. “David? What are you doing?”
    “Leaving,” he said with a smile and a shrug. “I thought it was all arranged?”
    “Arranged? Who with?”
    “Aunty Gwyneth, of course.”
    “David, nothing’s arranged. What’s she done to you?”
    David chuckled softly. “Liz, I know we had a bit of a spat, but when it’s time to go, it’s time to go. Come on, give me a hug. Then I’ll be off.”
    “David, you’re not going anywhere,” she said crossly, throwing back her thick red hair. “Turn around and walk back into the house.”
    “Liz-zz, I’m going to miss my bus.”
    “David, look at me. Straight in the eyes.”
    David looked. “That’s funny, they’ve gone all purple,” he muttered, then immediately fell into a heap at her feet.
    “Oh, David, what am I going to do with you?” she sighed.
    Strangely, her answer was close at hand. A door clicked open and Mr. Bacon stepped out onto his porch. He raised himself on tiptoes and peered across the drive. “Problem, Mrs. P.?” he asked.

13
T HE Q UICKENED E GG
     
    T he next morning began with an argument.
    “Henry’s?! You want me to move in with
Henry?”
    “Just for a day or two,” said Liz.
    Lucy, stomping past in her coat and boots, said, “Serves him right, for bringing
her
here. I’m going in the garden to look for Spikey.”
    The back door banged. Liz winced and shut it.
    “I am not living with Henry,” said David. “I’d rather sleep in Bonnington’s basket!”
    “That’s a point. Have you seen Bonnington this morning?”
    “No. Can we get back to the important subject, please?”
    Liz moved forward and held his forearms. “Look, Ireally need this from you. Lucy’s room is too small for Aunty Gwyneth — she likes to have space … to spread out her things.”
    “What things? That case was as light as a feather.”
    Liz counted a moment, then tried again. “Please, you’ll be doing me a huge favor. You can still eat here. None of that changes. I just need your room, that’s all.”
    “Liz, I’m not going to Henry’s, end of discussion. You know we’re like oil and vinegar.”
    “Water,” she corrected. “The expression is water.”
    “Vinegar, water … whatever. We’re
different.
We don’t get along. I can’t believe you even thought of it!”
    “David, it was
his
idea. He offered — to help me out of a scrape. Say yes, and I’ll forget about the rent you owe. A whole two weeks? That’s got to be worth considering, hasn’t it?”
    David chewed it over. Rent debt removed? That
was
tempting. But living with
Henry?
He took a deep breath. “Make it three and it’s a deal.”
    “Good boy.” Liz smiled and pinched his cheek.
    “Best of all, Henry says you can stay for free — as long as you keep to his rules, that is.”
    “Rules? What rules?”
    “He has rules, David, all landlords do: Thou shalt not put the dragon in the bread box, hmm?”
    David glanced at the bread box and grimaced. “You know that dragon of Aunty Gwyneth’s?”
    “Yes,” said Liz, looking slightly curious.
    “I dreamed last night that it asked me to leave.”
    “Really?” said Liz, whipping up a false smile. “Well, that’ll be your writer’s imagination at work, won’t it? Which reminds me, have you phoned Dilys thingy?” She tapped the letter from Apple Tree Publishing, which was still on the countertop, in front of the microwave.
    “Left a message on her voice mail,” David replied, just as the outside door swung open and Lucy raised her shoulders in a bit of a huff. “Mom, I can’t find Spikey.”
    Liz groaned with motherly frustration. “Well, that’shardly surprising, isn’t it? Hedgehogs are nocturnal.