Twenties Girl (26 page)

My heart misses a beat.

“Your dad … didn’t want me here?” I lick my dry lips. “Did he say why?”

“I said to him, who cares if she’s a bit of a psycho?” Diamanté talks right through me. “Be more fucking
tolerant
. Then, you know,
he
was on about that necklace.” She opens her eyes wide. “He offered me all these substitutes. I was like, don’t patronize me with fucking
Tiffany
. I’m a designer, OK? I have a
vision.”

The blood is beating hard in my ears. Uncle Bill is still after Sadie’s necklace. I don’t understand why. All I know is, I need to get hold of it.

“Diamanté.” I grab her shoulders. “Please listen. This necklace is really, really important to me. To my mum. I totally appreciate your vision as a designer and everything—but after the show, can I have it?”

For a moment Diamanté looks so blank, I think I’m going to have to explain the whole thing again. Then she puts an arm around my neck and squeezes hard.

“’Course you can, babe. Soon as the show’s over, ’s’yours.”

“Great.” I try not to give away how relieved I am. “Great! That’s great! So where is it right now? Could I … see it?”

The minute I clap eyes on this thing, I’m grabbing it and running. I’m not taking any more chances.

“Sure! Lyds?” Diamanté calls to a girl in a stripy top. “D’you know where that dragonfly necklace is?”

“What, babe?” Lyds comes over, holding a mobile phone.

“The vintage necklace with the cute dragonfly. D’you know where it is?”

“It has yellow glass beads in a double row,” I chime in urgently. “Dragonfly pendant, falls to about here …”

Two models walk past, their necks piled high with necklaces, and I squint desperately at them.

Lyds is shrugging easily. “Don’t remember. It’ll be on one of the girls somewhere.”

It’ll be in the haystack somewhere
. I look around the room hopelessly. Models are everywhere. Necklaces are everywhere.

“I’ll look for it myself,” I say. “If you don’t mind—”

“No! The show’s about to start!” Diamanté starts pushing me toward the door. “Lyds, take her in. Put her in the front row. That’ll show Dad.”

“But—”

It’s too late. I’ve been ushered out.

As the doors swing shut, I’m hopping with frustration. It’s in there. Somewhere in that room, Sadie’s necklace is hanging around a model’s neck. But which bloody one?

“I can’t find it anywhere.” Sadie suddenly appears beside me. To my horror, she seems almost in tears. “I’ve looked at every single girl. I’ve looked at all the necklaces. It’s nowhere.”

“It has to be!” I mutter as we head back down the corridor. “Sadie, listen. I’m sure it’s on one of the models. We’ll look really carefully at each one as they go past, and we’ll find it. I promise.”

I’m being as upbeat and convincing as I can, but inside … I’m not so sure. I’m not sure at all.

Thank God I’m in the front row. As the show starts, the crowd is six deep, and everyone’s so tall and skinny there’s no way I would have got a view from further back. Music starts thudding and lights start flashing around the room, and there’s a whoop from what must be a group of Diamanté’s friends.

“Go, Diamanté!” one of them yells.

To my slight horror, clouds of dry ice start to appear on the catwalk. How am I going to spot any models through that? Let alone any necklaces. Around me, people are coughing. “Diamanté, we can’t bloody see!” yells some girl. “Turn it off!”

At last the fog starts to clear. Pink spotlights flash onto the catwalk and a Scissor Sisters track starts thumping through the
speakers. I’m leaning forward, alert for the first model, ready to concentrate as hard as I can, when I glimpse something out of the corner of my eye.

Opposite me on the other side of the catwalk, taking his seat in the front row, is Uncle Bill. He’s dressed in a dark suit and open-necked shirt and accompanied by Damian, together with another assistant. As I stare in horror, he looks up and catches my eye.

My stomach lurches. I feel frozen.

After a minute he lifts a hand calmly in greeting. Numbly, I do the same. Then the music increases in volume and suddenly the first model is on the catwalk, wearing a white slip dress printed with spiderwebs and doing that sashay-model walk, all hip bones and cheekbones and skinny arms. I stare desperately at the necklaces jangling around her neck, but she whizzes past so quickly, it’s almost impossible to get a good view.

I glance over at Uncle Bill and feel a prickle of horror. He’s scanning the necklaces too.

“This is useless!” Sadie appears from nowhere and leaps up onto the catwalk. She goes right up to the model and peers intently at the jumble of chains and beads and charms around her neck. “I can’t see it! I told you, it’s not there!”

The next model appears, and in a flash she’s examining that girl’s necklaces too.

“Not here either.”

“Super collection,” a girl next to me exclaims. “Don’t you think?”

“Er … yes,” I say distractedly. “Great.” I can’t look at anything except the necklaces. My vision is a blur of beads and gilt and paste jewels. I’m feeling a growing foreboding, a sense of failure—

Oh my God.

Oh my God oh my God! There it is! Right in front of me. Wound around a model’s ankle. My heart is hammering as I
stare breathlessly at the pale-yellow beads, casually twined into an anklet. An
anklet
. No wonder Sadie couldn’t find it. As the model sashays nearer, the necklace is about two feet away from me on the catwalk. Less than that. I could lean over and grab it. This is absolutely unbearable….

Sadie suddenly follows my gaze and gasps.

“My necklace!” She zooms up to the oblivious model and yells, “That’s mine! It’s mine!”

The moment that model is off the catwalk I’m going after her and I’m getting it. I don’t care what it takes. I glance at Uncle Bill—and to my horror his eyes are glued on Sadie’s necklace too.

The model is sashaying back now. She’ll be off the catwalk in a minute. I glance across, squinting as a spotlight catches me right in the eye, and see Uncle Bill getting to his feet and his people clearing a way for him.

Shit.
Shit
.

I leap to my feet, too, and start making my way out, muttering apologies as I tread on people’s feet. At least I have an advantage: I’m on the side of the catwalk nearer the doors. Not daring to look back, I fling myself through the double doors and sprint up the corridor to the backstage area, flashing my pass at the bouncer guy on the door.

The backstage area is mayhem. A woman in jeans is barking instructions and pushing models onto the stage. Girls are ripping clothes off, having clothes put on, having their hair dried, having their lips touched up….

I look around in breathless panic. I’ve already lost sight of my model. Where the hell is she? I start moving between all the hair stations, dodging rails of clothes, trying to catch a glimpse of her—when suddenly I become aware of a row at the door.

“This is Bill Lington, OK?” It’s Damian, and he’s obviously losing it.
“Bill Lington
. Just because he doesn’t have a backstage pass—”

“No backstage pass, no entry,” I can hear the bouncer saying implacably. “Rules of the boss.”

“He
is
the fucking boss,” snaps Damian. “He paid for all this, you moron.”

“What you call me?” The bouncer sounds ominous, and I can’t help smiling—but my smile dies away as Sadie materializes, her eyes dark and desperate.

“Quick! Come!”

I start to move, but Sadie vanishes. A moment later she reappears, looking wretched.

“She’s gone!” she gulps, hardly able to get the words out. “That model girl has taken my necklace. She was hailing a taxi and I dashed back to get you, but I knew you’d be too slow. And when I returned to the street … she’d gone!”

“A
taxi?”
I stare at her in horror. “But … but—”

“We’ve lost it again.” Sadie seems beside herself. “We’ve lost it!”

“But Diamanté promised.” I swivel my head frantically, looking for Diamanté. “She promised I could have it!”

I’m hollow with dismay. I can’t believe I’ve let it slip away again. I should have grabbed it, I should have been quicker, I should have been cleverer….

Massive cheers and whoops are coming from the main hall. The show must have finished. A moment later, models stream into the backstage area, followed by a pink-faced Diamanté.

“Fucking fantastic!” she yells at everyone. “You all rock! I love you all! Now let’s party!”

I struggle through the melee toward her, wincing as stilettos puncture my feet and shrieky voices pierce my eardrum.

“Diamanté!” I call over the hubbub. “The necklace! The girl wearing it has gone!”

Diamanté looks vague. “Which girl?”

Jesus Christ. How many drugs is she on?

“She’s called Flora,” Sadie says urgently in my ear.

“Flora! I need Flora, but apparently she’s gone!”

“Oh, Flora.” Diamanté’s brow clears. “Yeah, she’s gone to Paris for a ball. On her dad’s PJ. Private jet,” she explains, at my blank look. “I said she could wear her dress.”

“But she’s taken the necklace too!” I’m trying really hard not to scream. “Diamanté, please. Call her. Call her now. Tell her I’ll meet her. I’ll go to Paris, whatever it takes. I
need
to get hold of this necklace.”

Diamanté gapes at me for a moment, then raises her eyes to heaven.

“My dad’s right about you,” she says. “You’re nuts. But I quite like that.” She gets out her phone and speed-dials a number.

“Hey, Flora! Babe, you were awesome! So are you on the plane yet? OK, listen. Remember that dragonfly necklace you had on?”

“Anklet,” I interject urgently. “She was wearing it as an anklet.”

“The anklet thing?” says Diamanté. “Yeah, that one. My crazy cousin really wants it. She’s gonna come to Paris to get it. Where’s the ball? Can she meet you?” She listens for a while, lighting a cigarette and dragging on it. “Oh, right. Yeah. Totally … Of course …” At last she looks up, blowing out a cloud of smoke. “Flora doesn’t know where the ball is. It’s, like, some friend of her mum’s holding it? She says she wants to wear the necklace ’cause it totally suits her dress, but then she’ll FedEx it to you.”

“Tomorrow morning? First thing?”

“No, after the ball, yeah?” says Diamanté, as though I’m very slow and stupid. “I dunno what day exactly, but as soon as she’s done with it she’ll send it. She promised. Isn’t that perfect?” She beams and lifts her hand to give me a high-five.

I stare back at her in disbelief.
Perfect?

The necklace was two feet away from me. It was within my reach. It was promised to me. And now it’s on its way to Paris
and I don’t know when I’ll get it back. How can this in any way be perfect? I feel like having a total meltdown.

But I don’t dare. There’s only the thinnest, most fragile chain linking me to the necklace now, and the strongest link in it is Diamanté. If I piss her off I’ll lose it forever.

“Perfect!” I force myself to smile back and high-five Diamanté. I take the phone and dictate my address to Flora, spelling out every single word twice.

Now all I can do is cross all my fingers. And my toes. And wait.

EIGHTEEN

e’ll get the necklace back. I have to believe it. I
do
believe it.

But, still, both Sadie and I have been on edge since last night. Sadie snapped when I stood on her toe this morning (through her toe, more accurately), and I told her off for criticizing my makeup. The truth is, I feel like I’ve failed her. The necklace has been within my reach twice. And each time I’ve let it get away. Anxiety is gnawing inside me, making me uptight and defensive.

This morning I woke up wondering if I should just get on a train to Paris. But how would I ever track Flora down? Where would I start? I feel totally powerless.

Neither of us is chatting much this morning; in fact, Sadie has been silent for a while. As I finish typing my emails at work, I watch her staring out the window, her back rigid. She’s never said so, but it must be lonely for her, wafting around the world with only me to talk to.

Sighing, I shut down my computer, wondering where the
necklace is right this minute. In Paris somewhere. Around that girl Flora’s neck, maybe. Or in an open bag, carelessly left on an open-top-car seat.

My stomach feels all stabby and nauseous again. I have to stop this or I’ll turn into Mum. I can’t keep obsessing about what might happen or what might go wrong. The necklace will come back. I have to believe it. Meanwhile, I have a life to lead. I have a boyfriend to meet for lunch.

I push back my chair, shrug on my jacket, and grab my bag.

“See you later,” I say toward both Kate and Sadie, and head out of the office hurriedly before either can reply. I don’t want any company. I’m feeling a bit jittery about seeing Josh again, to be honest. I mean, it’s not like I have any
doubts
or anything. Nothing like that. I suppose I’m just… apprehensive.

What I’m really not in the mood for is Sadie suddenly appearing beside me as I’m nearly at the tube station.

“Where are you going?” she demands.

“Nowhere.” I hurry on, trying to ignore her. “Leave me alone.”

“You’re meeting Josh, aren’t you?”

“If you knew, then why did you bother asking?” I say childishly. “Excuse me. …” I swing around a corner, trying to shake her off. But she won’t be shaken.

“As your guardian angel, I insist that you see sense,” she says crisply. “Josh is not in love with you, and if you think for a moment he is, you’re even more self-deceiving than I thought.”

“You said you weren’t my guardian angel,” I say over my shoulder. “So butt out, old lady.”

“Don’t call me old!” she says in outrage. “And I’m not going to let you throw yourself away on some lily-livered, weak-willed puppet.”

“He’s not a puppet,” I snap, then run down the tube steps. I can hear the train coming, so I swipe my Oyster card, dash onto the platform, and make it onto the tube just in time.

“You don’t even love him.” Sadie’s voice follows me. “Not really.”

This is the final outrage. I’m so incensed I swivel to face her, whipping out my phone. “Of course I do! Why do you think I’ve been so miserable? Why would I want him back if I didn’t love him?”

“To prove to everyone that you’re right.” She folds her arms.

This one takes me by surprise. In fact, it takes me a moment to gather my thoughts.

“That’s just … rubbish! That shows how little you know! It’s got nothing to do with that! I love Josh, and he loves me. …” I trail off as I feel the attention of all the travelers in the carriage turning toward me.

I stump to a corner seat, pursued by Sadie. As she draws breath to launch into another speech, I take out my iPod and put it on. A moment later her voice is drowned out.

Perfect! I should have thought of this a long time ago.

I suggested to Josh that we meet at Bistro Martin, just to exorcise all memories of that stupid Marie. As I hand in my coat I see him, already sitting at the table, and feel a whoosh of relief, mixed with vindication.

“You see?” I can’t help muttering to Sadie. “He’s early.
Now
tell me he doesn’t care for me.”

“He doesn’t know his own mind.” She shakes her head dismissively. “He’s like a ventriloquist’s dummy. I told him what to say. I told him what to think.”

She’s such a bighead.

“Look, you,” I say angrily. “You’re not as powerful as you think you are, OK? Josh is pretty strong-minded, if you want to know.”

“Darling, I could make him dance on the table and sing ‘Baa Baa, Black Sheep’ if I wanted to!” she replies scornfully. “Maybe I will! Then you’ll see sense!”

There’s no point arguing with her. Deliberately, I barge right through her and head to Josh’s table, ignoring her squeals of
protest. Josh is pushing his chair back and the light is catching his hair, and his eyes are as soft and blue as ever. As I reach him, something bubbles up in my stomach. Happiness, maybe. Or love. Or triumph.

Like, a mixture.

I reach up for a hug and his lips meet mine, and all I can think is
Yessss!
After a minute he moves to sit down, but I pull him back into another passionate kiss. I’ll show Sadie who’s in love.

At last he really does pull away, and we sit down. I lift the glass of white wine Josh has already ordered for me.

“So,” I say, a bit breathless. “Here we are.”

“Here we are.” Josh nods.

“Here’s to us! Isn’t it wonderful, being back together again? At our favorite restaurant? I’ll always associate this restaurant with you,” I add a bit pointedly. “No one else. I never could.”

Josh has the grace to look a bit uncomfortable. “How’s work?” he asks quickly.

“Fine.” I sigh. “Actually, to be honest … not that fine. Natalie’s gone off to Goa and left me all alone to run the company. It’s been a bit of a nightmare.”

“Really?” Josh says. “That’s bad.” He picks up the menu and starts reading as though the subject’s closed, and I feel a tiny pinprick of frustration. I was expecting more of a response. Although, now I remember, Josh never does respond to stuff much. He’s so easygoing. It’s what I love about him, I quickly remind myself: his lovely laid-back nature. He never stresses. He never overreacts. He never gets ratty. His approach to life is:
Just get along
. Which is so
sane
.

“We should go to Goa one day!” I change the subject, and Josh’s brow clears.

“Definitely. It’s supposed to be great. You know, I’m really into the idea of taking some time off. Like six months or so.”

“We could do it together!” I say joyfully. “We could both give up our jobs, we could travel around, start off in Mumbai—”

“Don’t start
planning
it all,” he says in suddenly tetchy tones. “Don’t hem me in. Jesus!”

I stare at him in shock. “Josh?”

“Sorry.” He looks taken aback by himself too. “Sorry.”

“Is something wrong?”

“No. At least …” He rubs his head roughly with both hands, then looks up, confused. “I know this is great, you and me being back together. I know I’m the one who wanted it. But sometimes I have this flash of … what the fuck are we
doing?”

“You see?” Sadie’s crowing voice above the table makes me jump. She’s hovering above us like an avenging angel.

Focus. Don’t look up. Pretend she’s just a big lamp shade
.

“I… I think that’s pretty normal,” I say, determinedly gazing at Josh. “We’ve both got to adjust; it’ll take time.”

“It’s not normal!” Sadie cries impatiently. “He doesn’t really want to be here! I told you, he’s a puppet! I can make him say or do anything!
You want to marry Lara one day!”
says Sadie loudly into Josh’s ear.
“Tell her!”

Josh’s look of confusion deepens.

“Although I do think … one day … maybe you and I should … get married.”

“On a beach!”

“On a beach,” he repeats obediently.

“And have six children!”

“I’d like loads of kids too,” he says bashfully. “Four … or five … or even six. What do you think?”

I dart Sadie a look of hatred. She’s spoiling everything with her stupid party trick.

“Hold that thought, Josh,” I say as pleasantly as I can. “I just need to go to the loo.”

I have never moved so quickly as I do across that restaurant. In the ladies’, I bang the door shut and glower at Sadie.

“What are you doing?”

“Proving a point. He has no mind of his own.”

“He does!” I say furiously. “And, anyway, just because you’re prompting him to say these things, it doesn’t prove he doesn’t love me. He probably
does
want to get married to me, deep down! and have lots of kids!”

“You think so,” Sadie says scoffingly.

“Yes! You couldn’t make him say anything he didn’t genuinely believe on some level.”

“You think?” Sadie’s head jerks up, and her eyes glitter at me for a moment. “Very well. Challenge accepted.” She zooms toward the door.

“What challenge?” I say in horror. “I didn’t challenge you!”

I hurry back into the restaurant—but Sadie streaks ahead of me. I can see her yelling in Josh’s ear. I can see his eyes glazing over. I can’t get to the table because I’m stuck behind a waiter with about five plates. What the hell is she
doing
to him?

All of a sudden Sadie appears beside me again. Her lips are pressed together as though she’s trying not to laugh.

“What have you done?” I snap.

“You’ll see. And then you’ll believe me.” She looks so gleeful, I feel like throttling her.

“Leave me
alone!”
I mutter. “Just go
away!”

“Very well!” she says, with an insouciant toss of her chin. “I’ll go! But you’ll still see I’m right!”

She vanishes and I approach the table nervously. Josh looks up with that faraway, punch-drunk expression, and my heart sinks. Sadie obviously got through to him, big-time. What’s she been saying?

“So!” I begin brightly. “Have you decided what to eat yet?”

Josh doesn’t even seem to hear. It’s as though he’s in a trance.

“Josh!” I snap my fingers. “Josh, wake up!”

“Sorry. I was miles away. Lara, I’ve been thinking.” He leans forward and gazes at me with great intensity. “I think I should become an inventor.”

“An
inventor?”
I gape at him.

“And I should move to Switzerland.” Josh is nodding seriously. “It’s just come to me, out of nowhere. This amazing … insight. I have to change my life. At once.”

I will murder her.

“Josh …” I try to keep calm. “You don’t want to move to Switzerland. You don’t want to be an inventor. You work in advertising.”

“No, no.” His eyes are shining as if he’s a pilgrim who’s seen the Blessed Virgin. “You don’t understand. I’ve been on the wrong path. It’s all falling into place. I want to go to Geneva and retrain in astrophysics.”

“You’re not a scientist!” My voice is shrill. “How can you be an astrophysicist?”

“But maybe I was
meant
to study science,” he says fervently. “Didn’t you ever hear a voice inside your head, telling you to change your life? Telling you that you’re on the wrong path?”

“Yes, but you don’t listen to the voice!” I lose all semblance of composure. “You ignore the voice! You say, ‘That’s a stupid voice!’”

“How can you say that?” Josh looks taken aback. “Lara, you have to
listen
to yourself. You’re the one who always told me that.”

“But I didn’t mean—”

“I was just sitting here, minding my own business, when the inspiration came to me.” He’s overflowing with enthusiasm. “Like an epiphany. Like a realization. Like when I realized I should be back with you. It’s exactly the same.”

His words are like a splinter of ice in my heart. For a few moments I can’t bring myself to speak.

“Is it… exactly the same?” I say at last.

“Well, of course.” Josh peers at me uncomprehendingly. “Lara, don’t get upset.” He reaches across the table. “Come with me to Geneva. We’ll start a new life. And do you want to know the other idea I’ve just had, out of the blue?” His face glows with
happiness as he draws breath. “I want to open a zoo. What do you think?”

I want to cry. I think I might cry.

“Josh—”

“No, hear me out.” He slaps a hand on the table. “We start an animal charity. Endangered species. We hire experts, get some funding. …”

Tears are welling up in my eyes as he talks.
OK
, I’m saying savagely to Sadie in my mind.
I get it. I GET it
.

“Josh.” I cut him right off. “Why did you want to get back together with me?”

There’s silence. Josh still has that trancey look in his eyes.

“I don’t remember.” His brow creases in a frown. “Something just told me it was the right thing to do. This voice in my head. It told me I still loved you.”

“But
after
you heard the voice.” I try not to sound too desperate. “Did it seem like all your old feelings for me were kicking in? Like an old car after you turn the handle round and round and it’s sputtering and then suddenly the engine comes to life. Did anything come to life?”

Josh looks as though I’ve asked him a trick question. “Well, it was like I heard this voice in my head—”

“Forget the voice!”
I practically scream at him. “Was there anything else?”