Twenties Girl (29 page)

“Ed.” I swallow.

“Yes?”

Oh God. What do I say?
You haven’t been dating me, you’ve been dating a ghost, she’s been influencing your mind, she’s like LSD without the upside….

“You might think you like me. But… you don’t.”

“I do.” He laughs. “I really like you.”

“You don’t.” I’m struggling here. “You’re not thinking for yourself. I mean … this isn’t real.”

“Feels pretty real to me.”

“I know it does. But … you don’t understand—” I break off, feeling helpless. There’s silence for a moment—then, Ed’s face abruptly changes.

“Oh. I see.”

“You do?” I say doubtfully.

“Lara, you don’t have to soften me with an excuse.” His smile turns wry. “If you’ve had enough, just say. I can cope with an afternoon on my own. It’s been fun and I appreciate the time you’ve taken, thanks very much—”

“No!” I say in dismay. “Stop it! I’m not trying to bail out! I’m having a really good time today. And I want to go on the London Eye.”

Ed’s eyes scan my face, up and down, left and right, as though they’re lie detectors.

“Well, so do I,” he says at last.

“Well… good.”

We’re so engrossed in our conversation, we haven’t noticed the gap growing in the queue ahead of us.

“Get on with it!” A guy behind suddenly prods me. “You’re on!”

“Oh!” I wake up. “Quick, we’re on!” I grab Ed’s hand and we run forward toward the big oval pod. It’s inching its way along the platform, and people are stepping on, amid giggles and shrieks. I step on, still hand in hand with Ed, and we beam at each other, all the awkwardness gone.

“OK, Mr. Harrison.” I revert to my tour-operator voice.
“Now
you’re going to see London.”

It’s brilliant. I mean, it just is
brilliant
.

We’ve been right up to the top and seen the whole city stretching out below us, like the
A–Z
map come to life. We’ve peered down at the little people scurrying around like ants, getting into ant cars and ant buses. I’ve knowledgeably pointed out St. Paul’s, and Buckingham Palace, and Big Ben. Now I’ve taken charge of the
Historic London
guidebook. It doesn’t have a section on the London Eye, but I’m reading out facts from it anyway, which I’m making up.

“The pod is made of transparent titanium melted down from eyeglasses,” I inform Ed. “If plunged underwater, each pod will automatically convert to a fully operational submarine.”

“I would expect no less.” He nods, gazing out of the glass.

“Each pod could survive underwater for thirteen hours….” I trail off. I can tell he isn’t really listening. “Ed?”

He turns around to face me, his back against the glass wall of the pod. Behind him, the panoramic view of London is shifting slowly, infinitesimally upward. While we’ve been up, the sunshine has disappeared, and solid gray clouds are gathering overhead.

“You want to know something, Lara?” He glances around to check no one is listening, but everyone else in the pod has piled to the other side, watching a police boat on the Thames.

“Maybe,” I say warily. “Not if it’s a really important secret and I’m not supposed to give it away.”

Ed’s face flickers with a smile. “You asked me why I agreed to go on that first date with you.”

“Oh. That. Well, it doesn’t matter,” I say hurriedly. “Don’t feel you have to tell me—”

“No. I want to tell you. It was … freaky.” He pauses. “I felt as though something inside my head was
telling
me to say yes. The more I resisted, the louder it shouted. Does that make any sense?”

“No,” I say hastily. “None. I’ve no idea. Maybe it was … God.”

“Maybe.” He gives a short laugh. “I could be the new Moses.” He hesitates. “Point is, I’ve never felt such a strong impulse, or voice, or whatever it was. Kinda blew me away.” He takes a step forward, his voice lower. “And whatever instinct it was—whatever deep place it came from—it was right. Spending time with you is the best thing I could have done. I feel like I’ve woken up from a dream, or limbo … and I want to thank you.”

“There’s no need!” I say at once. “It was my pleasure. Anytime.”

“I hope so.” His tone is oblique, and I feel a bit flustered under his gaze.

“So … um … you want to hear more from the guidebook?” I riffle through the pages.

“Sure.”

“The pod is … um.” I can’t concentrate on what I’m saying.

My heart has started beating more quickly. Everything seems heightened. I’m aware of every movement I’m making.

“The wheel travels … it goes around. …” I’m making no sense. I close the book and meet Ed’s gaze head-on, trying to match his deadpan expression, trying to appear as if nothing’s concerning me at all.

Except quite a lot of things are concerning me. The heat rushing to my face. The hairs prickling at the back of my neck. The way Ed’s eyes are boring into mine, like they want to get straight to the point. They’re giving me twinges.

Truth is, he’s giving me twinges all over the place.

I don’t know how I ever thought he wasn’t good-looking. I think I must have been a bit blind.

“Is something going on?” says Ed softly.

“I… I don’t know.” I can barely speak. “Is something going on?”

He puts a hand up to my chin and cups it for a moment, as though surveying the terrain. Then he leans forward and pulls my face gently up to his with both hands and kisses me. His mouth is warm and sweet and his stubble is grazing my skin but he doesn’t seem to care and … oh God.
Yes, please
. All my twinges have turned into singing, dancing urges. As he wraps his arms around me and pulls me tighter to him, two thoughts are jostling in my brain.

He’s so different from Josh.

He’s so
good
.

I’m not having many other thoughts right now. At least you couldn’t really call them thoughts so much as ravening desires.

At last Ed pulls away, his hands still cradling the back of my neck.

“You know … that wasn’t the plan for today,” he says. “Just in case you were wondering.”

“Wasn’t my plan either,” I say breathlessly. “Not at all.”

He kisses me again, and I close my eyes, exploring his mouth
with mine, inhaling the scent of him, wondering how much longer this London Eye ride has to go. As though reading my mind, Ed releases me.

“Maybe we should look at the view one more time,” he says with a small laugh. “Before we land.”

“I suppose we should.” I give him a reluctant smile. “We’ve paid for it, after all.”

Arm in arm, we turn to face the transparent wall of the pod. And I scream in fright.

Hovering outside the pod, looking in with searing, laserlike eyes, is Sadie.

She saw us. She saw us kissing.

Shit. Oh … shit. My heart is thumping like a rabbit’s. As I quiver in terror, she advances through the transparent wall, her nostrils flared, her eyes flashing, making me back away on stumbling legs as if I really have seen a terrifying ghost.

“Lara?” Ed is staring at me in shock. “Lara, what’s wrong?”

“How
could
you?” Sadie’s shriek of betrayal makes me clap my hands to my ears.
“How could you?”

“I… I didn’t … it wasn’t …” I gulp, but the words won’t come out properly. I want to tell her I didn’t plan all this, that it’s not as bad as she might think—

“I saw you!”

She gives a huge, racking sob, wheels around, and disappears.

“Sadie!” I rush forward and clutch at the transparent wall of the pod, peering out, trying to glimpse her in the clouds or in the rushing water of the Thames or among the nearing crowds of people on the ground.

“Lara! Jesus! What happened?” Ed looks totally freaked out. I suddenly notice that all the other people in the pod have stopped staring out at the view and are goggling at me.

“Nothing!” I manage. “Sorry. I just… I was…” As he puts his arm around me, I flinch. “Ed, I’m sorry … I can’t…”

After a pause Ed takes his arm away. “Sure.”

We’ve reached the ground now. Shooting anxious glances at me, Ed ushers me off the pod and onto solid ground.

“So.” His tone is cheerful, but I can tell he’s perturbed. As well he might be. “What’s up?”

“I can’t explain,” I say miserably. I’m desperately scanning the horizon, searching for any sight of Sadie.

“Would a Ye Olde Starbucks help? Lara?”

“Sorry.” I stop looking around and focus on Ed’s concerned face. “Ed, I’m so sorry. I can’t do … this. It’s been a lovely day, but …”

“But … it didn’t go according to plan?” he says slowly.

“No. It’s not that!” I rub my face. “It’s … it’s complicated. I need to sort myself out.”

I look up at him, willing him to understand. Or half understand. Or at least not think I’m a flake.

“No problem.” He nods. “I get it. Things aren’t always clear-cut.” He hesitates, then touches my arm briefly. “Let’s leave it here, then. It’s been a great day. Thanks, Lara. You’ve been very generous with your time.”

He’s retreated into his formal gentlemanly style. All the warmth and joking between us has ebbed away. It’s like we’re two distant acquaintances. He’s protecting himself, I suddenly realize with a pang. He’s going back into his tunnel.

“Ed, I’d love to see you again sometime,” I say desperately. “Once things are … sorted out.”

“I’d like that.” I can tell he doesn’t believe me for a minute. “Let me call you a taxi.” As he looks up and down the road, I can see his frown returning, like little lines of disappointment.

“No. I’ll just stay here a bit and wander about, get my head straight.” I muster a smile. “Thanks. For everything.”

He gives me a farewell wave, like a salute, then heads off into the crowd. I stare after him, feeling crushed. I like him. I really, really like him. And now he feels hurt. And so do I. And so does Sadie. What a mess.

“So this is what you do behind my back!” Sadie’s voice in my ear makes me jump and clasp my chest. Has she been waiting there all this time? “You lying snake. You backstabber. I came here to see how you were getting on with Josh. With
Josh!”

She whirls around in front of me, looking so incandescent, I find myself backing away.

“I’m sorry,” I stutter, clutching my phone to my ear as camouflage. “I’m sorry I lied to you. I didn’t want to admit Josh and I broke up. But I’m not a backstabber! I didn’t mean for Ed and me to kiss, I didn’t mean any of this, I didn’t plan it—”

“I don’t care whether you planned it or not!” she shrieks. “Keep your hands off him!”

“Sadie, I’m really sorry—”

“I found him! I danced with him! He’s mine! Mine!
Mine!”

She’s so self-righteous, and so livid, and she’s not even listening to what I’m saying. And suddenly, from underneath all my guilt I feel a surge of resentment.

“How can he be yours?” I hear myself yelling. “You’re dead! Haven’t you realized that yet? You’re
dead!
He doesn’t even know you exist!”

“Yes, he does!” She brings her face close to mine, a murderous look in her eye. “He can hear me!”

“So what? It’s not like he’ll ever meet you, is it? You’re a ghost! A
ghost
!” All my misery at the situation is bursting out in a vent of anger. “Talk about self-deluded! Talk about not facing up to the truth, Sadie! You keep telling me to move on! How about
you
move on?”

Even as I’m uttering the words, I’m realizing how they sound, how they might be misinterpreted. And I’m wishing beyond anything I could take them back. A tremor of shock passes across Sadie’s face. She looks as though I’ve slapped her.

She can’t think I meant…

Oh God.

“Sadie, I wasn’t … I didn’t…” My words are all jumbled
up in my mouth. I don’t even quite know what I want to say. Sadie looks hollow-eyed. She’s gazing out at the river as though she’s not even aware of me anymore.

“You’re right,” she says at last. All the spirit has gone out of her voice. “You’re right. I’m dead.”

“No you’re not!” I say in distress. “I mean … OK, maybe you are. But—”

“I’m dead. It’s over. You don’t want me. He doesn’t want me. What’s the point?”

She starts walking away toward Waterloo Bridge and disappears from view. Racked with guilt, I hurry after her and up the steps. She’s already halfway along the bridge, and I run to catch up. She’s standing still, staring out toward St. Paul’s Cathedral, a willowy figure in the grayness, and gives no sign of realizing I’m there.

“Sadie, it’s not over!” My voice is almost lost in the wind. “Nothing’s over! I wasn’t thinking, I was just angry at you, I was talking rubbish—”

“No. You’re right.” She speaks fast, without turning her head. “I’m as self-deceiving as you. I thought I could have some last fun in this world. I thought I could have a friendship. Make a difference.”

“You have made a difference!” I say in dismay. “Please don’t talk like this. Look, come home, we’ll put on some music, have a good time—”

“Don’t patronize me!” She turns her head and I can see her trembling. “I know what you really think. You don’t care about me, no one cares about me, some meaningless old person—”

“Sadie, stop it, that’s not true—”

“I heard you at the funeral!”
Sadie suddenly erupts passionately, and I feel a cold horror. She
heard
us?

“I heard you at the funeral,” she repeats, regaining her dignity. “I heard all the family talking together. Nobody wanted to be there. Nobody mourned me. I was just a ‘million-year-old nobody.’”

I feel queasy with shame as I remember what everyone said. We were so callous and horrible. All of us.

Sadie’s chin is taut and she’s gazing fixedly over my shoulder. “Your cousin put it exactly right. I didn’t achieve anything in my life, I left no mark, I wasn’t anything special. I don’t know why I bothered living, really!” She gives a brittle laugh.

“Sadie … please don’t.” I swallow.

“I didn’t have love,” she continues, inexorably, “or a career. I didn’t leave behind children or achievements or anything to speak of. The only man I ever loved … forgot about me.” There’s a sudden shake in her voice. “I lived for one hundred and five years, but I didn’t leave a trace. Not one. I didn’t mean anything to anybody. And I still don’t.”