Layton led me into his living room. A boy, Luke, sat on one sofa and Flora on the other. They looked very scared.
"Won't you sit down?" Layton asked.
"No. I won't." I said lowly, trying not to shout. Layton raised his eyebrow, but said nothing more.
"Would you care for a cup of tea?" He tried.
"No. I hate warm drinks." I sighed. Layton paused, as if slightly taken aback, but sat down.
"So, Miss, what was it you wished to ask me about?" He seemed so polite….It sort of angered me.
"What did you do to my boyfriend?" I growled.
"What do you mean? Who is your boyfriend?" Luke finally spoke up, wanting to be part of the conversation.
"Clive Dove," I said proudly.
An awkward silence filled the room.
"Clive Dove?" The Professor looked at me, "Are you sure?"
"I think I know who my own bloody boyfriend is!" I screamed.
"And…why didn't you know about what he did?" He asked.
"I was in Spain."
"On holiday? Without him?" Luke gave me a sideways look.
"For your information, midget, I was at my dad's funeral."
"I'm sorry to hear that," The Professor said.
I laughed shrilly.
"No you're not! You never met the man! Or me! How can you be sorry? It wasn't you're fault!"
Another silence.
"Please," I said quietly, "Just tell me what happened. He lied to me. I want to know why,"
The Professor gave me a comforting smile.
"I suppose I should start from the beginning," He said.
I rolled my eyes and thought to myself,
It's not some bloody story.
When he finished the story at the point where Clive got arrested, said all the stuff to the Professor about how he wanted the Professor to stop him, how he thanked him and stuff like that, I just sat there, shaking my head.
"No," I finally said, "It's not true,"
I got up to leave. I walked out the living room, then ran out the door, flew down the stairs and ran all the way to my front door.
I paused, turned round, and saw Luke watching me.
"You followed me?" I yelled. He raised his eyebrow as if to say, "Is that some sort of trick question?"
I growled, and shoved him. He fell on his ass, and stared at me, with huge eyes.
"Go home, squirt," I spat, and ran, without looking back, into my house.