Pick Your Poison. Lauren Child

many countries are called ‘outer’ whatever?’

      ‘You mean like outer space?’

      ‘Yeah sorta, just makes it sound exciting, kinda wild,’ said Clancy.

      ‘Speaking of outer space, my money’s on the Mars exploration,’ said Ruby. ‘I mean, what could be more exciting than the big question … is anyone out there?’

      ‘… And will they infiltrate human society?’

      ‘Well, if they are and they do then please let them be on the side of wholesome good-citizen-like behaviour because we already have more than enough bad guys mooching around, most of them in Twinford, as far as I can tell.’

      The face of the Count loomed up in her mind’s eye – she could see him laughing, his dark eyes unfathomable. He’d been involved in more than one of the cases Ruby had worked on. Did he have further plans to bring his deadly ambitions to town? She had a bad feeling that all of the cases she’d solved so far were only building up to something bigger. Something infinitely deeper and darker than her worst nightmares could conjure.

      She shook her head, trying to dislodge the image, and said, ‘Boy, if I could just get my hands on one of those Explorer tickets.’

      ‘You’d be lucky,’ said Clancy. ‘My dad said people are ready to commit murder for them.’

      And Ruby could almost hear the Count laugh.

      

      WHEN RUBY OPENED THE FRONT DOOR she could hear her mother’s voice. Sabina Redfort was on the phone and speaking in a vaguely hushed tone. Ruby paused on the stairs, trying to figure out who her mother was talking to. She sounded serious, very serious.

      ‘You know, I’m just at a loss, what am I going to do? It will be a total disaster if I don’t find them … I can’t tell him …’ Silence. ‘Oh my gosh, are you sure? … You really mean it? I mean, I can see the sense, they are practically identical … I don’t know how I can ever thank you!’ She sounded beyond grateful. ‘That would just about save my life … What’s that? No, I hadn’t heard … Today you say?’

      Ruby froze, waiting for the next words. Was someone about to tell her mother about the dumpster incident?

       ‘Sure thing, yes, I’m dying to go to the Melrose Dorff sale but it will have to be tomorrow, I have a party tonight … Meet you at the perfume counter, sounds perfect, tomorrow it is. I’ll see you in town, bye, bye, bye.’

      Marjorie Humbert! thought Ruby. Has to be. She recognised the sign off: ‘bye, bye, bye’ was what her mother and Marjorie always ended their conversations with.

      She exhaled; she was getting paranoid, seeing trouble where there was none. Nothing serious had happened. Her mom no doubt was worrying about her outfit for the Explorer Awards and Marjorie was lending her a pair of shoes or earrings, something her mother had mislaid.

      As it happened, Ruby was on the money.

      ‘Hey Mom, how’s it going?’ she said as she walked into the living room.

      ‘A whole lot better since two minutes ago. Marjorie has saved my life!’

      ‘Literally?’ asked Ruby.

      ‘Sort of literally but not exactly,’ said Sabina.

      ‘How did she manage that over the phone?’

      ‘By lending me her ruby-eyed snake earrings. Don’t tell your father,’ said her mother, adopting a conspiratorial whisper. ‘He’ll never spot the difference, even though Marjorie’s are cobras and mine are sea serpents, but he’d be so mad if he knew I’d lost them. You see, I clean forgot to put them on the insurance.’

      ‘When did you last have them?’ asked Ruby.

      ‘During my stay in New York City.’

      ‘So they could be at Grandma’s place?’

      ‘She’s looked and looked but they haven’t shown up,’ sighed Sabina, ‘not on the night stand, not in the bathroom or anywhere obvious.’

      ‘So I take it Dad’s not home?’ said Ruby.

      ‘Not yet honey. He was called in for an emergency meeting about the Explorer Awards. The caterers stepped out at the last minute – the chef apparently has a considerable fear of snakes. Brant offered to find a replacement … He is late though,’ she said, looking at her watch. ‘I hope everything’s OK. I have a bad feeling about this whole function.’

      It was most unlike Sabina to have a bad feeling about anything – losing her jewellery had clearly rattled her.

      Ruby sank down on the sofa opposite her mother.

      ‘You’re sitting on the menu,’ said Sabina.

      ‘What?’

      ‘The menu,’ said Sabina. ‘You happen to be sitting on it.’

      ‘Oh.’ Ruby pulled the card from under her. ‘So is this what they’re serving on the night?’

      ‘It was going to be,’ said Sabina, ‘but who knows now, it might just be crackers.’

      Ruby began reading from the card. ‘Looks fancy. Caviar, oysters …’

      SABINA: ‘I do love oysters, but I feel very uncomfortable eating them now it turns out they have a brain.’

      RUBY: ‘I think you are getting mixed up here. They don’t have brains, they are brain food, i.e. meant to be food for the brain.’

      SABINA: ‘Whose brain?’

      RUBY: ‘Your brain – anyone’s brain.’

      SABINA: ‘You sure?’

      RUBY: ‘Yes. By the way, you eat plenty of other things with brains.’

      SABINA: ‘I know, but I’ve been eating oysters all this time and thinking they don’t have brains.’

      RUBY: ‘Well, you can relax ’cause they don’t.’

      SABINA: ‘You’re sure about this?’

      RUBY: ‘Where do you think they would keep them?’

      SABINA: ‘In their shells, of course.’

      RUBY: ‘Where in the “body”? I mean, you’ve shucked enough oysters to know.’

      Her mother mulled this for half a minute.

      SABINA: ‘Now I come to think of it, no, I have never noticed an oyster with even a face.’

      RUBY: ‘There you go.’

      SABINA: ‘What gets me is how do they think?’

      RUBY: ‘They don’t need to think. They’re bivalves, they are pretty much gills and a mouth. They catch plankton in their mucus and—’

      SABINA: ‘OK, mucus does it – that’s it for me and oysters.’

      Ruby was saved from any more oyster talk by the sound of a key in the front door.

      ‘That’ll be your father, don’t blab about the earrings,’ hissed her mother.

      ‘When