Twenties Girl

by Sophie Kinsella

  I trail off. Uncle Bill is looking at me with as much enthusiasm as if I’d whipped out a hula skirt and started dancing.

  “Jesus Christ,” he mutters. “Lara, are you still claiming Sadie was murdered? Is that what this is about? Because I really don’t have time-” He reaches for the telephone.

  “No, that’s not it!” My face is boiling, but I force myself to persevere. “I don’t really think she was murdered. I went there because… because I felt bad that no one had ever shown any interest in her. When she was alive, I mean. And there was another name in the visitors’ book, and they said the guy looked exactly like you, and I was just… wondering. You know. Just wondering.”

  My heart is pounding in my ears as I finish.

  Slowly, Uncle Bill replaces the telephone receiver and there’s silence. For a few moments he looks as though he’s weighing up exactly what to say.

  “Well, it looks as though both of us had the same instincts,” he says at last, leaning back in his chair. “You’re right. I did go to see Sadie.”

  My jaw drops in astonishment.

  Result! Total, instant result! I think I should become a private detective.

  “But why did you use the name Charles Reece?”

  “Lara.” Uncle Bill gives a patient sigh. “I have a lot of fans out there. I’m a celebrity. There are a lot of things I do that I don’t trumpet. Charity work, hospital visits…” He spreads his hands. “Charles Reece is the name I take when I want to stay anonymous. Can you imagine the fuss if it were known that Bill Lington had personally come to visit an old lady?” He meets my eyes with a friendly twinkle, and for a moment I can’t help smiling back.

  It kind of makes sense. Uncle Bill is such a rock star. Taking a pseudonym is the sort of thing he’d do.

  “But why didn’t you tell any of the family? At the service, you said you’d never visited Aunt Sadie.”

  “I know.” Uncle Bill nods. “And I had my reasons for that. I didn’t want to make the rest of the family feel in any way guilty or defensive about not having visited themselves. Especially your father. He can be… prickly.”

  Prickly? Dad’s not prickly.

  “Dad’s fine,” I say tightly.

  “Oh, he’s great,” Bill says immediately. “An absolutely fantastic guy. But it can’t be easy being Bill Lington’s big brother. I feel for him.”

  Indignation surges through me. He’s right. It’s not easy being Bill Lington’s big brother, because Bill Lington is such an arrogant tosser.

  I should never have smiled at him. In fact, I wish there were a way to take smiles back.

  “You don’t need to feel sorry for Dad,” I say as politely as I can. “He doesn’t feel sorry for himself. He’s done really well in life.”

  “You know, I’ve started using your dad as an example in my seminars.” Uncle Bill adopts a musing tone. “Two boys. Same upbringing. Same education. The only difference between them was, one of them wanted it. One of them had the dream.”

  He sounds like he’s rehearsing a speech for some promotional DVD. God, he’s up himself. Who says everyone wants to be Bill Lington, anyway? Some people’s dream would be not to have their face plastered across coffee cups all over the world.

  “So, Lara.” He focuses back on me. “It was a pleasure to see you; Sarah will show you out.”

  That’s it? My audience is over? I haven’t even got to the bit about the necklace yet.

  “There’s something else,” I say hastily.

  “Lara-”

  “I’ll be really quick, I promise! I just wondered, when you visited Aunt Sadie…”

  “Yes?” I can see him trying to keep his patience. He glances at his watch and touches a key on his keyboard.

  Oh God. How am I going to put this?

  “Do you know anything about…” I’m stumbling over my words. “I mean, did you see… or possibly take, by accident… a necklace? A long necklace with glass beads and a dragonfly pendant?”

  I’m expecting another patronizing sigh, a blank look, and a dismissive comment. I’m not expecting him to freeze. I’m not expecting his eyes to become suddenly sharp and wary.

  As I stare back, I feel almost breathless with shock. He knows what I’m talking about. He knows.

  The very next moment, the wariness has disappeared out of his eyes and he’s back to empty politeness. I could almost think I imagined that other expression.

  “A necklace?” He takes a sip of coffee and types something at his keyboard. “Do you mean something of Sadie’s?”

  The back of my neck is prickling all over. What’s going on? I saw the recognition in his eyes, I know I did. Why is he pretending he doesn’t know about it?

  “Yes, it’s an old piece I’m trying to track down.” Some instinct tells me to act cool and unconcerned. “The nurses at the home said it had disappeared, so…” I watch Uncle Bill sharply for a reaction, but his bland mask is perfectly in place.

  “Interesting. Why do you want it?” he asks lightly.

  “Oh, no particular reason. I just saw a photo of Sadie wearing it at her hundred and fifth birthday and I thought it would be nice to find it.”

  “Fascinating.” He pauses. “Can I see the photo?”

  “I haven’t got it on me, I’m afraid.”

  This conversation is so weird. It feels like a game of tennis, where we’re both lobbing balls very gently into the air and resisting the urge to wallop a winner.

  “Well, I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Uncle Bill puts his mug down with an air of finality. “I’m pressed for time, so we’ll have to leave it there.”

  He pushes back his chair but I don’t move. He knows something about it. I’m sure he does. But what do I do? What options do I have?

  “Lara?” He’s standing by my chair, waiting. Reluctantly I get to my feet. As we approach the door, it opens as though by magic. We’re greeted by Sarah, with Damian hovering behind, his BlackBerry out.

  “All done?” he says.

  “All done.” Uncle Bill nods firmly. “Give my best to your dad, won’t you, Lara? Good-bye.”

  Sarah puts a hand to my elbow and starts gently edging me out of the room. My chance is ebbing away. In desperation, I grip onto the door frame.

  “It’s a shame about the necklace, don’t you think?” I look directly at Uncle Bill, trying to provoke a response. “What do you think happened to it?”

  “Lara, I’d forget about the necklace,” says Uncle Bill smoothly. “It was probably lost a long time ago. Damian, come in.”

  Damian hurries past me, and the two men head to the other side of the room. The door is already closing. I stare after Uncle Bill, almost exploding with frustration.

  What’s going on? What is it with this necklace?

  I need to speak to Sadie, right now. This minute. I swivel my head back and forth, but there’s no sign of her. Typical. She’s probably found some hunky gardener to lust after.

  “Lara,” says Sarah with a tense smile. “Could you please remove your fingers from the door frame? We can’t close the door.”

  “All right!” I say, lifting up my hands. “Don’t panic! I’m not going to stage a sit-in protest!”

  Sarah’s eyes jump in fear at the word protest, which she immediately covers with a fake little laugh. She should really give up working for Uncle Bill. She’s way too nervous.

  “Your car is waiting for you at the front. I’ll take you there now.”

  Damn. If she escorts me out, there’s no way I can sidle off or poke around any drawers or anything.

  “A coffee for the ride?” asks Sarah as we pass through the lobby.

  I quell an urge to say, “Yes, please, a Starbucks.”

  “No, thanks.” I smile.

  “Well, it’s been so great to see you, Lara!” Her fake gushiness makes me wince. “Come back soon!”

  Yeah, right. By which you mean “please never set foot in this place again, ever.”

  The limo drive
r opens the door, and I’m about to step in when Sadie appears right in front of me, blocking the way. Her hair is a little disheveled and she’s breathing hard.

  “I’ve found it!” she says dramatically.

  “What?” I stop, foot halfway into the car.

  “It’s in the house! I saw it in a bedroom upstairs, on a dressing table! It’s here! My necklace is here!”

  I stare at her, gripped. I knew it, I knew it!

  “You’re absolutely sure it’s yours?”

  “Of course I’m sure!” Her voice rises shrilly and she starts gesturing at the house. “I could have picked it up! I tried to pick it up! Of course, I couldn’t…” She clicks her tongue in frustration.

  “Lara, is there a problem?” Sarah is hurrying down the stairs again. “Is there something wrong with the car? Neville, is everything OK?” she snaps at the driver.

  “Everything’s fine!” he replies defensively, and jerks his head at me. “She just started talking to thin air.”

  “Would you like a different car, Lara?” I can see it’s taking Sarah a supreme effort to keep up her pleasant manner. “Or to go to a different location? Neville can take you anywhere. Perhaps you’d like the use of him for the rest of the day?”

  She really, really wants to get rid of me.

  “This car’s fine, thanks,” I say brightly. “Get in the car,” I mutter to Sadie out of the side of my mouth. “Can’t talk here.”

  “I’m sorry?” Sarah frowns.

  “Just… on the phone. Tiny earpiece.” I tap my ear and quickly slide into the car.

  The car door clunks and we glide away toward the gates. I check that the glass partition is closed, then flop back and look at Sadie.

  “This is unbelievable! How did you find it?”

  “I just went looking.” She shrugs. “I looked in all the cupboards and the drawers and the safe-”

  “You went in Uncle Bill’s safe?” I’m agog. “Wow. What’s in there?”

  “Bits of paper and hideous jewels,” says Sadie impatiently. “I was about to give up, when I walked past a dressing table and there it was.”

  I can’t believe it. I’m popping with anger. Uncle Bill just sat in front of me and said he didn’t know anything about any dragonfly necklace. He’s a lying … liar. We have to make an action plan. As quickly as I can, I reach inside my bag for a notebook and pen.

  “Something’s going on,” I say, writing Action Plan at the top of a page. “There has to be a reason he took it and a reason he’s lying.” I rub my brow in frustration. “But what? Why is it so important to him? Do you know anything else about it? Does it have some kind of history… or collectors’ value-”

  “Is this all you’re going to do?” Sadie’s voice explodes. “Talk, talk, drone, drone? We need to get it! You need to climb through the window and get it! At once!”

  “Er…” I look up from my notebook.

  “It’ll be quite easy,” Sadie adds confidently. “You can take off your shoes.”

  “Right.”

  I’m nodding. But truth be told, I don’t feel absolutely prepared for this. Break in to Uncle Bill’s house right now? Without making a plan?

  “The only thing is,” I venture after a moment, “he’s got lots of security guards and alarms and stuff.”

  “So what?” Sadie’s eyes narrow. “Are you frightened of a few alarms?”

  “No!” I say at once. “Of course not.”

  “I bet you are!” she cries derisively. “I’ve never known such a ninny in all my life! You won’t smoke because it’s dangerous! You wear a safety belt in the motor because it’s dangerous! You won’t eat butter because it’s dangerous!”

  “I don’t think butter’s dangerous,” I retort indignantly. “It’s just, you know, olive oil spread has got better fats…”

  I trail off at the contemptuous look on Sadie’s face.

  “Are you going to climb in through the window and get my necklace?”

  “Yes,” I say, after only a split-second pause. “Of course I am.”

  “Well, come on, then! Stop the car!”

  “Stop bossing me about!” I say resentfully. “I was just about to.”

  I lean forward and open the glass partition between us and the driver. “Excuse me? I’m feeling carsick. Could you let me out, please? I’ll go home by tube. I’m not dissing your driving or anything,” I add hastily, as I see him frowning into the rearview mirror. “You’re great. Really… er… smooth action.”

  The car pulls over and the driver looks around dubiously. “I’m supposed to take you home to your door.”

  “Don’t worry!” I say, clambering out. “Honestly, I just need some fresh air, thanks so much…”

  I’m already on the pavement. I bang the door shut and give the driver a little wave. He shoots me one last suspicious glance, then does a three-point turn and heads back toward Uncle Bill’s house. As soon as he’s out of sight, I start retracing my path, keeping unobtrusively to the side of the road. I round the corner, see Uncle Bill’s gates ahead, and pause.

  The gates are closed and they’re massive. The security guard is there in his glass box. CCTV cameras are everywhere. You don’t just march straight in to Uncle Bill’s house. I need a strategy. I take a deep breath and approach the gates, looking as innocent as possible.

  “Hi! It’s me again, Lara Lington,” I say into the pedestrian intercom. “I left my umbrella behind. Silly me!” After a moment, the guard opens the pedestrian gate for me and leans out of his window.

  “I’ve spoken to Sarah. She doesn’t know anything about an umbrella, but she’s coming down.”

  “I’ll meet her, save her the trouble!” I say brightly, and hurry past before he can protest. OK. I’m past one hurdle.

  “Tell me the minute he looks away,” I mutter to Sadie out of the side of my mouth. “Say ‘Now.’”

  “Now!” she says suddenly, and I dodge to the side of the path. I take a few steps across the grass, then drop down, roll behind a hedge, and come to a stop like someone in an action film.

  My heart’s thumping hard. I don’t even care that I’ve run my tights. Through the hedge I can see Sarah crunching swiftly down the drive, a perturbed expression on her face.

  “Where is she?” I hear her voice drifting up from the front gates.

  “… saw her a moment ago…” The guard sounds baffled.

  Ha!

  Actually, not ha. They might start looking for me with Rottweilers in a minute.

  “Where is it?” I whisper to Sadie. “Guide me. And keep a lookout!”

  We start making our way over the lawn toward the house, dodging from hedge to water feature to prizewinning sculpture. I keep freezing as people walk down the drive. But so far no one’s spotted me.

  “There!” We turn the corner and Sadie nods at a set of French doors on the second-floor level. They’re ajar, and open onto a terrace with steps up to it from the garden. I won’t need to clamber up the ivy after all. I’m almost disappointed.

  “Keep guard!” I mutter to Sadie. I creep toward the steps, slip off my wedges, and run up them silently. Cautiously, I approach the ajar French doors-and catch my breath.

  There it is.

  It’s lying on a dressing table, just inside the room. A long double row of beads in shimmering yellow glass, with the most exquisite carved dragonfly, inlaid with mother-of-pearl and studded with rhinestones. It’s Sadie’s necklace. Iridescent and magical, just as she described it, although it’s longer than I imagined and a few of the beads are a little battered.

  As I gaze at it, I feel overcome by emotion. After all this time. After all the hunting, the hoping; after secretly wondering if it even existed anymore… here it is. Only a few feet away from me. I could practically lean over and touch it without even entering the room.

  “It’s… stunning.” I turn back to Sadie, my voice a little choked. “It’s absolutely the most beautiful thing I’ve ever-”

  “Get it!” She’s
whirling her arms in frustration, her beads jangling. “Stop talking! Get it!”

  “OK, OK!”

  I swing the French doors open, take a tentative step inside, and am just reaching toward the necklace, when I hear footsteps approaching the room. In what seems like a nanosecond, the door is thrown open. Shit. Someone’s coming in.

  In panic, I reverse onto the terrace and duck to one side.

  “What are you doing?” demands Sadie from below. “Get the necklace!”

  “Someone’s in there! I’ll wait ’til they’ve gone!”

  In an instant, Sadie is up on the terrace and poking her head through the glass into the room.

  “It’s a maid.” She glares at me. “You should have grabbed it!”

  “I’ll get it in a minute when she’s gone! Don’t stress! Just keep a lookout!”

  I back right against the wall, praying that the maid or whoever she is doesn’t decide to come out on the terrace for a breath of fresh air and madly thinking of excuses if she does.

  Suddenly my heart jumps as the French doors start moving-but they’re not opening. They close with a firm clunk. The next thing I hear is the click of a key being turned.

  Oh no.

  Oh no, oh no.

  “She’s locked you out!” Sadie darts into the room, then out again. “Now she’s gone! You’re stuck! You’re stuck!”

  I rattle the French doors, but they’re well and firmly locked.

  “You idiot!” Sadie is beside herself with fury. “You absolute fool! Why didn’t you just grab it?”

  “I was about to!” I retort defensively. “You should have gone to check if anyone was coming!”

  “Well, what are we going to do?”

  “I don’t know! I don’t know!”

  There’s silence as we face each other, panting slightly.

  “I need to put my shoes on,” I say at last. I head down the steps and slip on my wedges. Above, Sadie is still darting in and out of the room in frustration, as though she can’t bear to relinquish her necklace. At last she gives up and joins me on the grass. For a few moments neither of us meets the other’s eye.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t quicker at grabbing it,” I mumble at last.

  “Well,” says Sadie, clearly making a supreme effort. “I suppose it wasn’t completely your fault.”