“Sure.” Morrie folded his long body into the sofa and popped two nuggets in his mouth. I stifled a giggle as his eyes bugged out and he fanned his face with his hand. Mum must’ve really gone all out with the chili.
“I’ll pass,” I grinned.
Heathcliff and Quoth passed also. Mrs. Ellis took one, but wiped the chili off down the edge of the sofa while Mum had her back turned. Mum came back with a tray of drinks and passed around plastic cups filled with Morrie’s expensive wine, and we did an awkward toast.
“So, Heathcliff, you’re not local to Argleton?” Mum asked, trying again to corner Heathcliff into a conversation where he would admit to being a gypsy.
“I live in the shop.”
“But you didn’t grow up here, did you?”
“I think Mum’s asking where you come from,” I said, glaring at Mum. She smiled sweetly, chewing on a chicken nugget.
“I was raised at a farmhouse on the Yorkshire Moors,” he said. “Although that is not where I was born. My parents abandoned me on the streets of Liverpool, and I was found and raised by the Earnshaw family. I do not know my true origin, and I don’t care to know.”
“Why, I should think you of the Romani people, judging by your coloring,” Mum said.
“It has been suggested,” Heathcliff said tersely.
“Morrie’s from London,” I announced, eager to change the subject.
Mum made a face. “London is so big and noisy. We must seem like such country bumpkins after living in the big city.”
“Argleton is a slower pace of life, but it’s not without its charms.” Morrie trailed a finger down my thigh, and a shiver ran through my body. “But yes, London has always been my stomping ground. Barring a brief stint at Oxford where I obtained my degree, I’ve always been in the city, and I may yet return.”
“Oxford?” Mum’s ears perked up. “Did you hear that, Mina?”
“Yes, Mum. I heard. I was thinking about going to Oxford myself, if you recall.”
“But you never had a head for that kind of fancy learning. You’re too creative. Morrie here has got the brain smarts. What are you, Morrie? A doctor? A lawyer? A tech entrepreneur?” Her eyes sparkled. I could practically see her spending Morrie’s money on a garish footballer’s mansion and a kidney-shaped pool.
“I have some medical experience, but I am primarily a mathematician.”
“Oh,” Mum’s face froze. “And how much does a mathematician earn?”
“Mum, you shouldn’t ask people what they earn!”
“I don’t mind,” Morrie grinned. “It all depends on the type of mathematics you perform. My line of work is exceptionally lucrative.”
“Oh, well, that’s wonderful.” Mum gave me a pointed look, and I knew she was picturing what my wedding dress would look like when I married Morrie the handsome and rich mathematician.Floor, please swallow me now.“And what about you, Allan? Where were you born?”
“Richmond, in the United States,” Quoth replied.
“Is that where your accent is from? You don’t sound American.”
“Don’t I?” Quoth tilted his head to the side. His hair flowed over his shoulder. I couldn’t resist the urge and reached over to tuck it behind his ear. He jumped as my fingers grazed his skin.He’s worried.
“He certainly sounds exotic with that sexy husky voice,” Mrs. Ellis piped up. Beside her, Heathcliff choked on his wine.
Mum didn’t know how to respond to that. She gulped back her drink, thankfully forgetting to ask Quoth what he did for a living. Instead, she turned back to Heathcliff. “So does anything interesting happen at the shop apart from people being murdered?”
“Mum!”
“What, honey? I’m justasking. Surely Mr. Heathcliff meets interesting customers.”
“No,” Heathcliff muttered into his glass.
“We’ve had an appearance by the Terror of Argleton,” Morrie said, shuddering at the memory of the mouse in his pants.
