Chapter 31
“Do you think I’m bonkers wanting to go to uni?” Flick asked Sabrina as they were having their morning break that Thursday.
“Mum thinks I am, and that a degree is going to be no use at all and is just going to saddle me with a lifetime of debt.”
“Do you want to go?” Sabrina answered.
“Can’t wait,” said Flick. “I want to get back to studying.”
“Then no, I don’t think you’re mad. You’re bright and keen and you seem pretty sure that’s what you want to do.”
“Am I that bright, though?” asked Flick, scrunching up her nose. “The suggestions you made to Uncle Teddy about this place,
a lot of them seem so obvious and I can’t believe any of us missed them. Why didn’t I see them?”
“Because I’m seeing it more objectively, maybe? And with years of experience behind me.”
“I’d love to be one of those people who goes into somewhere and says, ‘You need to do this and this and this,’ and turn them
around like a superhero just when they’re on the brink of bankruptcy. You’ve really revved me up, Sabrina. I hadn’t thought
that’s what I’d use my degree for, but listening to you, I’m sure that’s the direction I’d like to go in. I want that intuition
like you have, and I clearly haven’t got it.”
“Intuition isn’t magic; it comes from learned experience, Flick.
I couldn’t have just walked into a company knowing nothing about how the business ran and started to make suggestions on my first day on the job like some sort of psychic.
You have to build up your knowledge and your expertise and learn how to assess what works and what doesn’t, and even then it’s not quite an exact science.
But the more you know, the more informed you are, the more accurate your subconscious calculations will be—in time.
Be an expert in your field. The more you know, the more of a toolbox you have at your disposal to utilize. ”
“You sound like you had good teachers,” said Flick.
“I had the best,” replied Sabrina. It was out before she’d realized what she’d said. She remembered someone, an older man,
a mentor. He entered her brain on a float of warmth. He’d been special to her and he was someone who was gone now, because
she felt that she missed him in that way.
Teddy listened to them talking and saw how much his young cousin believed that Sabrina was exactly what she said she was on
the tin. He wasn’t far behind her. Why was no one on the planet looking for her? She must be a loss to someone: It was puzzling,
but more than that, it was sad. Her early jokey theory that she might have fallen from outer space was becoming more of a
believable possibility with every day that passed.
Now they were both talking about where the other Ciaoissimo restaurants were situated.
“Whitby. And there’s also one in Scarborough,” Flick was saying. Her eyes widened with an idea. She whipped her head around
to Teddy.
“Why don’t you and Sabrina check out one of them as mystery customers so she can go in and make an assessment.”
Niccolo whistled and Roberto made a lewd but funny in-and-out gesture with his hips.
“Not on a date, you knobs,” said Flick.
“That’s not a bad idea at all.” Teddy mulled it over. “Sabrina? You up for that?”
“Yes, I’d be happy to,” she said. She felt a too-wide smile spread across her lips. A body language expert would have read a lot into that.
“Tomorrow lunch then. George and Antonio can easily cover.” He felt a smile spread across his lips and keep spreading and
wondered what a body expert would have read into that.
After work, when Sabrina got home, she could see the light on through the adjoining door between Little Moon and Big Moon
and she knocked. She hadn’t seen much of Marielle since they’d been to the psychic evening. Marielle had already said she
didn’t want her to feel she was a pest, invading her privacy all the time, but Sabrina missed her company. It was probably
her imagination, but she was sensing something between them was ever so slightly off. She hoped she was wrong; otherwise she’d
be giving Psychic Pat a run for her money.
Marielle unlocked the door.
“Hello, love. Nice to see you,” she said, although she didn’t move aside and invite her in.
“I’m just knocking to say hello,” Sabrina replied.
Sabrina could see the flowers she’d bought for Marielle with her wage, sitting in a vase on her dining table. Marielle had
refused to take any money from her, even though she had tried to push it at her, so she’d bought her a large colorful bunch
of bigheaded blooms and scented freesias instead. “Marielle, I’m going to check out a Ciaoissimo with Teddy tomorrow. I’m
getting up early to find something to wear. Are there any charity shops in town?”
“Yes, there are a couple in the square and one or two in the arcade.”
“Great stuff,” Sabrina said.
“We’ll have to have lunch or dinner together again very soon,” said Marielle.
“I’d like that. I don’t mind doing the cooking. I’m sure I can throw something edible together,” replied Sabrina. “Would you like a coffee or a tea?”
Marielle yawned. “Sorry, I’m a bit tired tonight. Another time.”
“Okay then, good night,” said Sabrina, and smiled, though she thought that yawn had been put on.
Marielle’s suggestion they have a meal together was what Sabrina needed to hear to put her mind at rest. She was probably
being daft thinking that anything had changed between them. There was no reason why it should have, and Marielle couldn’t
have been kinder to her. She’d even found that Marielle had left a bag of toiletries on the bed for her. But still the feeling
persisted, like the faint buzz of a mosquito she could hear but couldn’t see.
On the other side of the door, Marielle sighed heavily. This was awful. She liked Sabrina so much, she liked her company,
and if this purse thing hadn’t happened, she doubted she’d have bothered locking the door between them anymore so Sabrina
could come and go as she wanted, have a bath whenever she needed instead of having to ask permission.
She didn’t want to come right out and accuse her of taking her purse, but she’d looked everywhere for it—everywhere—and it was nowhere to be found.
There could be no other explanation, unless she had a poltergeist, than that Sabrina had taken it.
Only two people—Sabrina and Cilla—had been in her house that weekend, but Cilla couldn’t have done it because she and Marielle were together the whole time they’d been in that room.
She wished Sabrina would just admit she’d made a mistake: She wouldn’t have made a big thing about it; the woman had been through a lot and maybe she’d done it without thinking.
She’d given her ample opportunities to put it back, but it hadn’t happened.
Sabrina had carried on interacting with her as normal, without a hint of awkwardness, and that’s what hurt, because it smacked of practiced wiliness.
It was getting in the way and she couldn’t bear that it was, but nor could she forget it and allow Sabrina that one, single, isolated blip.
She’d tried to bring it to a head, asked Sabrina if she’d happened to see the purse anywhere when she’d brought the flowers
over. She’d said that it was an old thing with just a few pounds in it and a bank card, but Flick had bought it for her years
ago, so it had sentimental value. Sabrina had merely offered to help her look for it. Was she a fool, as Cilla had accused
her of being? She didn’t want her friends and her son to shake their heads at her standing in the “vulnerable, gullible idiot”
corner. Not again.
Marielle looked at the flowers on the table. It had been kind of Sabrina to buy them for her with her first wage from Teddy’s,
but they reminded her of Jody who’d lived there before, who broke into the house only hours after buying her a bunch of tulips.
“Just as a little thank-you for your kindness,” she’d said, more or less the same words Sabrina had used, as if it were a sign. Marielle loved flowers, but these ones made
her sad, however lovely the scent that drifted from them. She lifted them out of the vase and pushed them headfirst into her
kitchen bin.