Page 65 of On Circus Lane

Jack comes back to the table. Steven glares up at him, and Jack falters. “What?” he asks cautiously.

“Oh, nothing,” Steven says in a poisonously sweet voice. “Where have you been?”

Jack waggles his phone. “My boss rang me and then I was just speaking to Arlo.”

“Again?” I say in stupefaction. “What on earth do you find to say to my brother?”

A flush dapples his cheeks. “I don’t find it difficult to talk to him at all.”

“Well, apart from the lowering of your intellect before you connect the call,” Steven says in a low voice that both Jack and I hear.

Before I can say anything, Jack straightens. “What did I tell you about that?” he says in a steely voice. Everyone looks up, but he keeps his focus on Steven. “Arlo is my friend.”

“And I’m your boyfriend.”

Jack raises an eyebrow. “It’s a shame you didn’t always remember that.”

Bee winces and immediately starts to down his mojito as if it’s going to be taken away from him. “Another, please,” he calls to the waitress.

Steven throws his napkin down. “How many times am I going to be punished for that one little mistake?”

“About one more than me telling you to stop being nasty about Arlo,” Jack snaps.

Freddy reaches out and helpfully closes my mouth for me. His eyes are full of glee.

An awkward silence falls that’s broken by the food arriving.

“How wonderful.Food,” Sal announces in a manner last seen at a royal garden party.

We all dive into the food, and the conversation picks up again.

“So, we’re going on a ghost hunt tonight?” Bee says. Ivy nods. “Well, that should be very interesting.”

I smile at him. “You’ve never been on one before?”

“No. I see them around Oxford all the time, but I’ve never ventured there. Although they’re said to be good markers for the social mores of the time.”

Freddy grins at him. “I don’t know about that, but they’reawfullygood at startling Tom.”

“Shut up.” I glare at them when they laugh. “All I’m saying is that if you hide in dark alleys and jump out at people, you are asking for problems.”

“And apparently damage to your eardrums,” Freddy offers.

Bee stares at me. “You hit a ghost-tour operator?”

“Ofcoursenot,” I say quickly. “It’s just that he was a blurred streak of movement, and he startled me.”

Freddy grins at Bee. “Startled is an understatement. Tom’s scream could be heard in China.”

“It wasn’t ascream,” I tell Bee, whose eyes are twinkling with amusement.

“It took out the glass in nearby windows,” my sister helpfully offers, and I glare at her.

Freddy laughs. “The best part of the altercation?—”

“Misunderstanding,” I interject.

“The best part of the misunderstanding before we were asked to leave was that Tom didn’t even spill his chips when he deafened the leprechaun.”

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