Twenties Girl

Twenties Girl Page 151

Coincidentally, it works out well for me too, her being out of the way at night. For… various other reasons.

Nothing specific.

Oh, OK. All right . There is a specific reason. Which would be the fact that Ed has recently stayed over at my place a few nights.

I mean, come on. Can you think of anything worse than a ghost lurking around in your bedroom when you’re… getting to know your new boyfriend better? The idea of Sadie giving us a running commentary is more than I can cope with. And she has no shame. I know she’d watch us. She’d probably award us points out of ten, or say disparagingly that they did it much better in her day, or suddenly yell “Faster!” in Ed’s ear.

I’ve already caught her stepping into the shower one morning when Ed and I both happened to be in there. I screamed and tried to push her out, and accidentally elbowed Ed in the face, and it took me about an hour to recover. And Sadie wasn’t one little bit sorry. She said I was overreacting and she just wanted to keep us company. Company?

Ed kept shooting me little sidelong glances after that. It’s almost like he suspects. I mean, obviously he can’t have guessed the truth; that would be impossible. But he’s pretty observant. And I can tell he knows there’s something a bit strange in my life.

The phone rings and Kate picks it up. “Hello, Magic Search, can I help you?… Oh. Yes, of course, I’ll put you through.” She presses the hold button and says, “It’s Sam from Bill Lington’s travel office. Apparently you called them?”

“Oh, yes. Thanks, Kate.”

I take a deep breath and pick up the receiver. Here goes my latest salvo.

“Hello, Sam,” I say pleasantly. “Thanks for ringing back. The reason I called is, um… I’m trying to arrange a fun surprise for my uncle. I know he’s away and I wondered if you could possibly give me his flight details? Obviously I won’t pass them on!” I add, with a casual little laugh.

This is a total bluff. I don’t even know if he’s flying back from wherever he is. Maybe he’s taking the QE2 or traveling by bespoke submarine. Nothing would surprise me.

“Lara,” Sam sighs. “I’ve just spoken to Sarah. She told me that you were trying to contact Bill. She also informed me that you’d been banned from the house.”

“Banned?” I muster tones of shock. “Are you serious? Well, I have no idea what that’s about. I’m just trying to organize a little surprise birthday-o-gram for my uncle-”

“His birthday was a month ago.”

“So… I’m a bit late!”

“Lara, I can’t give out confidential flight information,” Sam says smoothly. “Or any information. Sorry. Have a good day.”

“Right. Well… thanks.” I crash the receiver down. Damn.

“Everything OK?” Kate looks up anxiously.

“Yes. Fine.” I muster a smile. But as I head out to the kitchen, I’m breathing heavily and my blood is pumping around fast, all toxic with frustration. I’m sure this situation is terrible for my health. Another thing to blame Uncle Bill for. I flick on the kettle and lean against the counter, trying to calm myself with deep breathing.

Hare hare… vengeance will be mine… hare hare… I just have to be patient…

Trouble is, I’m sick of being patient. I take a teaspoon out and shove the drawer closed with a satisfying bang .

“Goodness!” Sadie appears, perched above the dishwasher. “What’s wrong?”

“You know what’s wrong.” I haul my tea bag out roughly and dump it in the bin. “I want to get him.”

Sadie opens her eyes wider. “I didn’t realize you were so steamed up.”

“I wasn’t. But I am now. I’ve had enough.” I slosh milk into my tea and dump the carton back in the fridge. “I know you’re being all magnanimous, but I don’t see how you can do it. I just want to… to punch him. Every time I pass a Lingtons coffee shop, I see a great big rack with Two Little Coins for sale. I want to rush in and yell, ‘Stop it, everybody! It wasn’t two little coins! It was my great-aunt’s fortune!’” I sigh and take a sip of tea. Then I look up at Sadie curiously. “Don’t you want to get back at him? You must be a total saint.”

“Saint is probably a little strong…” She smoothes back her hair.

“It’s not. You’re amazing.” I cradle the mug. “The way you just keep moving forward. The way you don’t dwell on stuff. The way you look at the big picture.”

“Keep moving onward,” she says simply. “That’s always been my way.”