Chapter Six
Six
I haven’t felt as zippy as this for weeks. For months. It’s eight o’clock the next morning, and I feel like a brand-new person! Instead of waking all depressed, with a picture of Josh clutched in my tearstained hand, a bottle of vodka on the floor, and Alanis Morissette playing on a loop…
OK. That was only the one time.
But anyway. Just look at me! Energetic. Refreshed. Straight eyeliner. Crisp stripy top. Ready to face the day and spy on Josh and get him back. I’ve even booked a cab, to be efficient.
I head into the kitchen to find Sadie sitting at the table in yet another dress. This one is mauve, with panels of tulle and a draping effect at the shoulders.
“Wow!” I can’t help gasping. “How come you have all these different outfits?”
“Isn’t it glorious?” Sadie looks pleased with herself. “And it’s very easy, you know. I just imagine myself in a particular frock and it appears on me.”
“So was this one of your favorites?”
“No, this belonged to a girl I knew called Cecily.” Sadie smooths down the skirt. “I always coveted it.”
“You’ve pinched another girl’s outfit?” I can’t help giggling. “You’ve stolen it?”
“I haven’t stolen it,” she says coldly. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“How do you know?” I can’t resist needling her. “What if she’s a ghost too and she wants to wear it today and she can’t? What if she’s sitting somewhere, crying her eyes out?”
“That’s not how it works,” says Sadie stonily.
“How do you know what works? How do you know—” I break off as a sudden brilliant thought hits me. “Hey! I’ve got it! You should just imagine your necklace. Just picture it in your head and then you’ll have it. Quickly, close your eyes, think hard—”
“Are you always this slow-witted?” Sadie interrupts. “I’ve tried that. I tried to imagine my rabbit-fur cape and dancing shoes as well, but I couldn’t get them. I don’t know why.”
“Maybe you can only wear ghost clothes,” I say after a moment’s consideration. “Clothes that are dead too. Like, that have been shredded up or destroyed or whatever.”
We both look at the mauve dress for a few moments. It seems sad to think of it being shredded up; in fact, I wish I hadn’t mentioned it.
“So, are you all set?” I change the subject.
“If we go soon, we can catch Josh before he leaves for work.” I take a yogurt out of the fridge and start spooning it into my mouth.
Just the thought of being near Josh again is making me feel fizzy.
I can’t even finish my yogurt, I’m so excited.
I put the half-eaten pot back in the fridge and dump the spoon in the sink.
“Come on. Let’s go!” I pick up my hairbrush from its place in the fruit bowl and tug it through my hair. Then I grab my keys and turn to see Sadie studying me. “Goodness, your arms are plump,” she says. “I hadn’t noticed before.”
“They’re not plump,” I say, offended. “That’s solid muscle.” I clench my biceps at her and she recoils.
“Even worse.” Complacently, she looks down at her own slender white arms. “I was always renowned for my arms.”
“Yeah, well, these days, we appreciate a bit of definition,” I inform her. “We go to the gym. Are you ready? The taxi’ll be here in a minute.” The buzzer goes and I lift the receiver.
“Hi! I’m just coming down—”
“Lara?” comes a familiar muffled voice. “Darling, it’s Dad. And Mum. Just popped round to check you’re all right. We thought we’d catch you before work.”
I stare at the speakerphone in disbelief. Dad and Mum? Of all the times. And what’s all this with the “popping round,” anyway? Mum and Dad never “pop round.”
“Um…great!” I try to sound breezy. “I’ll be right down!”
I emerge from my building to find Mum and Dad standing on the pavement. Mum is holding a potted plant and Dad is clutching a full Holland & Barrett bag, and they’re talking in low voices. As they see me, they come forward with fake smiles as though I’m a mental patient.
“Lara, darling.” I can see Dad’s worried eyes scanning my face. “You haven’t replied to any of my texts or messages. We were getting worried!”
“Oh, right. Sorry. I’ve been a bit busy.”
“What happened at the police station, darling?” asks Mum, attempting to sound relaxed.
“It was fine. I gave them a statement.”
“Oh, Michael.” Mum closes her eyes in despair.
“So you really believe Great-Aunt Sadie was murdered?” I can tell Dad is as freaked out as Mum.
“Look, Dad, it’s no big deal,” I say reassuringly. “Don’t worry about me.”
Mum’s eyes snap open. “Vitamins,” she says, and starts rooting in the Holland & Barrett bag.
“I asked the lady at the shop about…behavioral—” She stops herself.
“And lavender oil…and a plant can help with stress—you could talk to it!” She tries to give me the potted plant, and I thrust it away again impatiently.
“I don’t want a plant! I’ll forget to water it and it’ll die.”
“You don’t have to have the plant,” says Dad in soothing tones, glancing warningly at Mum. “But you’ve obviously been very stressed, what with the new business…and Josh….”
They are so going to change their tune. They are so going to realize I was right all along, when Josh and I get back together and get married. Not that I can say this right now, obviously.
“Dad.” I give him a patient, reasonable smile. “I told you, I don’t even think about Josh anymore. I’m just getting on with life. It’s you who keeps bringing him up.”
Ha. That was quite clever. I’m just about to tell Dad that maybe he’s obsessed with Josh, when a taxi pulls up beside us on the pavement and a driver leans out.
“Thirty-two Bickenhall Mansions?”
Damn. OK, I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear him.
Mum and Dad are exchanging looks. “Isn’t that where Josh lives?” says Mum tentatively.
“I don’t remember,” I say carelessly. “Anyway, it’s for someone else—”
“Thirty-two Bickenhall Mansions?” The driver has leaned farther out of his cab, his voice raised higher. “Lara Lington? You book taxi?”
Bugger.
“Why are you going to Josh’s flat?” Mum sounds beside herself.
“I’m…not!” I flounder. “It must be some car I booked months ago, finally turning up! They’re always late. You’re six months late! Go away!” I shoo at the bemused driver, who eventually puts the car into gear and drives away.
There’s a kind of tense silence. Dad’s expression is so transparent it’s endearing. He wants to believe the best of me. On the other hand, the evidence is all pointing one way.
“Lara, do you swear that taxi wasn’t for you?” he says at last.
“I swear.” I nod. “On…Great-Aunt Sadie’s life.”
I hear a gasp and look around to see Sadie’s eyes beaming fury at me.
“I couldn’t think of anything else!” I say defensively.
Sadie ignores me and walks right up to Dad. “You’re fools,” she says emphatically. “She’s still smitten with Josh. She’s about to spy on him. And she’s making me do her dirty work.”
“Shut up, you sneak!” I exclaim before I can stop myself.
“Sorry?” Dad stares at me.
“Nothing.” I clear my throat. “Nothing! I’m fine.”
“You’re a lunatic.” Sadie swivels around pityingly.
“At least I’m not haunting people!” I can’t help retorting.
“Haunting?” Dad is trying to follow me. “Lara…what on earth…”
“Sorry.” I smile at him. “Just thinking aloud. In fact…I was actually thinking about poor Great-Aunt Sadie.” I sigh, shaking my head pityingly. “She had such sad little twiggy arms.”
“They’re not twiggy!” Sadie glares back.
“She probably thought they were really attractive. Talk about deluded!” I laugh gaily. “Who wants pipe cleaners for arms?”
“Who wants pillows for arms?” Sadie shoots back, and I gasp in outrage.
“They’re not pillows!”
“Lara…” says Dad faintly. “What’s not pillows?”
Mum looks like she wants to cry. She’s still clutching on to her potted plant and a book entitled Stress-Free Living: You CAN Achieve It.
“Anyway, I have to get to work.” I give Mum a huge hug. “It’s been brilliant to see you. And I’ll read your book and take some vitamins. And I’ll see you soon, Dad.” I hug him too. “Don’t worry!”
I blow them both kisses and hurry off along the pavement. When I reach the corner, I turn to wave—and they’re both still standing there like waxworks.
I do feel sorry for my parents, I really do. Maybe I’ll buy them a box of chocolates.
—
Twenty minutes later I’m standing outside Josh’s building, feeling bubbly with exhilaration. Everything’s going according to plan. I’ve located his window and explained the layout of the flat. Now it’s up to Sadie.
“Go on!” I say excitedly. “Walk through the wall! This is so cool!”
“I don’t need to walk through the wall.” She shoots me a disparaging look. “I’ll simply imagine myself inside his flat.”
“OK. Well…good luck. Try to find out as much as you can. And be careful!”
Sadie disappears, and I crane my neck to survey Josh’s window, but I can’t see anything. I feel almost sick with anticipation. This is the nearest I’ve been to Josh in weeks. He’s in there right now. And Sadie’s watching him. And any minute she’ll come out and—
“He’s not there.” Sadie appears in front of me.
“Not there?” I stare at her, affronted. “Well, where is he? He doesn’t usually leave for work ‘til nine.”
“I’ve no idea.” She doesn’t sound remotely interested.
“What did the place look like?” I can’t help probing for details. “Is it a real mess? Like, with old abandoned pizza boxes and beer bottles everywhere? Like he’s been letting himself go? Like he doesn’t really care about life anymore?”
“No, it’s very tidy. Lots of fruit in the kitchen,” Sadie adds. “I noticed that.”
“Oh. Well, he’s obviously taking care of himself, then.” I hunch my shoulders, a bit discouraged. It’s not that I want Josh to be an emotional wreck on the brink of meltdown, exactly, but…
Well. You know. It would be quite flattering.
“Let’s go.” Sadie yawns. “I’ve had enough of this.”
“I’m not just leaving! Go in again! Look around for clues! Like…are there any photographs of me or anything?”
“No,” says Sadie at once. “None. Not a single one.”