“Maybe I could just borrow some lipstick?” said Sylvie.
“You didn’t even bring lipstick for your wedding?” said Cleo. Sylvie remembered how as girls, she and Emma would go to Cleo’s make-believe “beauty salon” when Donna was out. Cleo would curl Sylvie’s hair with Donna’s hot rollers, apply foundation to her cheeks and shadow to her eyelids. Cleo would take Sylvie’s hand and pull her in front of Donna’s mirror, saying, “Ta da! America’s new supermodel isSylvie Peacock!”
Sylvie had felt so special and beautiful in Cleo’s imaginary salon.
“Please don’t be mean,” said Sylvie now.
“Sorry,” said Cleo. “Here, take this tube. I can do your whole face before the ceremony.”
Sylvie followed Penelope into Mumberton’s massive library, where Sylvie braided the girl’s hair and applied lipstick with the help of her phone’s camera.
“I love your tiny diamond earrings,” said Penelope, touching Sylvie’s earlobe.
“They were my grandmother’s,” said Sylvie. “She came from Ireland with nothing, and when she turned sixty, her husband and son gave her these earrings. Her son was my father, Seamus.”
“Where is he? Why didn’t he come to the wedding?” said Penelope.
“He’s in Heaven,” said Sylvie.
“Do you believe in Heaven?” said Penelope.
Sylvie swallowed, deciding to lie. “Yes,” she said.
“Can I have the earrings when you go to Heaven?” said Penelope.
“Yes,” said Sylvie.
“Thank you for marrying my dad,” said Penelope.
Sylvie stared at Penelope. She felt the familiar dizziness. What would happen to Penelope if Sylvie couldn’t marry her father?
“You’re welcome,” she managed.
“Don’t forget to put in your will that I get the diamond earrings,” said Penelope.
“I won’t forget,” said Sylvie.
“Everyone always forgets their promises,” said Penelope.
“Not me,” said Sylvie.
Penelope stared at Sylvie. Her eyes went blank and then bright again. Sylvie could tell that Penelope, also, knew how to fly in her mind.
When they returned to the reception, Penelope headed off with Emma’s boys and Sylvie ordered a glass of champagne and took in the scene: Simon chatting with Angus; Rich and Emma holding hands and investigating the cheese table; Cleo’s boyfriend, Danny, who looked like a contestant onDancing with the Starswith his flawless body and artfully styled hair.
Danny met Sylvie’s gaze and she walked to him. His expression looked as if he were stoned, though Cleo had told her Danny was against all drugs: With his heavy-lidded, bedroom eyes, he was impossibly sultry and cool. As she approached, though, his surfer dude persona seemed to crack. “Sylvie,” he said, his voice wobbly. He grabbed her and pulled her into a hug, clinging so strongly Sylvie couldn’t inhale fully.
“Danny?” she gasped.
Danny released her. “I’m so happy for you,” he managed.
“Are you…all right?” said Sylvie.
“No,” said Danny. “No, I’m not all right.”
Sylvie struggled to react. Where was Cleo?
Danny pressed his eyes shut and then opened them. “I’m going to go,” he said. “I’m going to leave this beautiful castle. But I just want you to know…I just want you to know that I loved your sister.” He blinked while Sylvie struggled to figure out what to say. “She was probably the love of my life,” added Danny.
