Free Romeo Blue by Phoebe Stone Page A

discreetly. I mean, does he ever do anything like that?”
    I didn’t answer Miss Elkin right away. I knew Uncle Gideon loved to dance because he and Auntie werealways cutting a rug, as Derek called it. But I wasn’t sure what to tell Miss Elkin. I began to feel suddenly quite heavy with other people’s secrets. Honestly, I did. I did not want to encourage Miss Elkin. I knew Uncle Gideon still loved my mum Winnie, even if he hadn’t been with her in thirteen years. He still loved her. I did not think he would ever go to a dance with anyone but Winnie.

When I came home from school that afternoon, Mr. Bathtub was in the library, grading papers. He looked over the tops of his reading glasses at me and said, “What ho, Fliss! We meet again! To what do I owe the pleasure?” I leaned against the back of his big green stuffed chair and I tried to think of a way I could ask him about the autumn dance coming up and Miss Elkin. I was also trying to see what paper he was grading. In a very casual way, I tried to peer over his shoulder. The report said across the top of the page, The Vicious Mighty Shark by Charlie Tabbet . At school, all of Charlie’s reports were about sharks. Mr. Bathtub had given Charlie an A minus. Mr. Bathtub brought sandwiches into school every day for a group of children who didn’t have any breakfast or lunch. I think Charlie was one of them.
    “What are you reading these days, Fliss?” Mr. Bathtub said to me. “No longer the expert on Frances Hodgson Burnett?”
    “I’ve read The Secret Garden eight times and I will not be reading it again. I am way too old for that book now,” I said.
    “I see, that’s a shame,” he said. “By the way, we’re having some visitors this month. Bill Donovan will behere in a few days and he is bringing along a Canadian fellow named Bill Stephenson. They are great friends and we call them Big Bill and Little Bill. Little Bill will be very pleased to meet you.”
    “Why is Mr. Donovan coming back?” I said, running my foot along the tassels at the bottom of the chair. “Wasn’t he here already? Can he tell us where my Winnie and Danny are?”
    “Oh, Fliss, can I ask you not to question all this? I know you are a bright girl and you’ve noticed so much. And I’m very proud of you for that. But for your own sake and for your own safety, please don’t poke around. Don’t ask any questions.” My father put his arm round me as I stood there next to his chair, leaning against him, looking right into his eyes, which seemed to be full of sweetness and sadness again. Right then I should have broken my word to Derek. Right then I should have told him about Mr. Fitzwilliam at the Eastland Park Hotel, snooping round, trying to find out about Derek’s dad. I should have told him about the invisible-ink letter. And I should have told him about Derek’s father and his visits. Right then I should have spoken.

How easy it is to think later, Oh, what I should have done! But how hard to think clearly when you are smack in the middle of the soup of your life. Instead of telling my father everything, I skipped towards the kitchen singing a jump-rope song I learned from Dimples.
    “The man in the moon sang me a tune,
    Then he handed out sweets on a silver spoon.”
    I finally tossed the invisible jump rope aside and threw myself into a chair at the blue metal table. The Gram was making bread. She was rolling and turning the yeasty, sweet-smelling dough on a breadboard. She let me poke it with my finger and it was soft and springy. Finally, she pulled off a part of it and let me roll it and work it along with her. As we rolled and pushed, I started talking. I was not at all good at being quiet. Ideas inside me were always pushing to pop out. Danny always said so. Winnie always agreed. Words and ideas inside me were just as jumpy as my feet, even though I was twelve years old and should have been by now very proper and grown-up and polite and quiet. “The bread dough feels