Love, Lies and Lizzie

by Rosie Rushton

  Lizzie was touched by Meredith’s defence of a sister she normally ignored or criticised.

  ‘We’ve still to talk about that,’ the officer interjected. ‘She certainly wasn’t firing on all cylinders when we found her, but one thing is quite clear – she’s very shaken by the whole experience. Be gentle with her.’

  He glanced at his watch. ‘We must go,’ he said. ‘You’ll be hearing from us when Wickham comes up before the court. Until then, just enjoy having your daughter home.’

  He paused, hand on the door knob.

  ‘And Mr Bennet?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘It’s good to see such a united family. A lot of the teenagers we see in trouble don’t have a place like this to come home to. She’ll do fine, just as long as she’s got you.’

  ‘Jane, can I come in?’

  Lizzie peered round Jane’s bedroom door late that evening after Lydia, exhausted and tearful, had gone to bed with Katie ministering to her like an adolescent Florence Nightingale.

  ‘Sure – I’m nowhere near being able to sleep. Isn’t it wonderful to have Lydia home? I’m so happy.’

  ‘Well, here’s something else to cheer you up,’ Lizzie smiled. ‘It’s about Charlie.’

  ‘Oh. We said we wouldn’t talk about him any more.’

  ‘I know,’ Lizzie admitted. ‘But I’ve found out why he suddenly switched off from you.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘James saw you kiss Simon at the races. Sadly he didn’t see the slap, he thought you were two-timing Charlie and so he told him you couldn’t be trusted.’

  ‘And Charlie believed him?’ Jane replied, far more calmly than Lizzie had anticipated. ‘In which case, he never really knew me, did he? Come off it, Lizzie, if you were Charlie, wouldn’t you have confronted me, asked me to tell my side of things? I can’t see you just accepting it and walking away.’

  ‘True,’ Lizzie sighed. ‘But perhaps . . .’

  ‘Perhaps nothing,’ Jane replied. ‘Perhaps we had better just drop the subject. This time for good, OK?’

  ‘If that’s what you want?’

  ‘It is, Lizzie. It really is.’

  ‘This is the first time we’ve been on our own since you got back,’ Lizzie remarked to Lydia a couple of days later. Now that the crisis was over, Jane was back at uni, Katie and Meredith were at school and Lydia, due to return the following day, was sitting in the kitchen nervously picking at the sleeve of her sweater.

  ‘I know what you’re going to say,’ Lydia replied, showing for the first time since her return a flash of her old stroppiness. ‘You wanted George and it was me he liked – only he didn’t really, he was using me and . . .’

  ‘Lyddy, stop right now,’ Lizzie said gently. ‘I didn’t want George. OK, I admit, I flirted with him a bit, but there was never anything there, not really. You do promise me nothing happened between you, don’t you? If it did you can tell me . . .’

  ‘Like that was going to happen,’ Lydia snapped. ‘I’m not that much of an idiot and besides, George was so out of it that . . .’ She stopped in mid-sentence, clearly aware that she had been about to incriminate herself.

  ‘So how did you get into this mess in the first place?’ Lizzie asked.

  ‘It all started as a bit of a laugh,’ Lydia replied. ‘I didn’t know George had put anything about the party on MySpace – not that Amber believes me. She says she’ll hate me for ever for what happened to that house.’

  ‘She’ll come round,’ Lizzie said. ‘Dad’s going to see Mrs Forster tomorrow to explain it all. And hopefully to tell her what a fool she was to go off and leave a houseful of teenagers on their own.’

  ‘She’s a bit odd, actually,’ Lydia admitted. ‘You know, she acts like she’s thirty, tries to talk in street jargon, brags about knowing all the chart hits. Not a bit mum-like, if you know what I mean.’

  ‘I know exactly what you mean.’ Lizzie smiled. ‘You’ve never said what happened after you and George left the party.’

  ‘I told Mum,’ Lydia replied. ‘And the police. I didn’t want to tell you or Jane.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘You’ll hate me, and I don’t want you to hate me,’ Lydia burst into tears.

  ‘Silly,’ Lizzie laughed, giving her a hug. ‘First Katie thinks Dad’ll hate her, then you think I will. We Bennets don’t do hate.’

  ‘You hate James,’ Lydia retorted, sniffing and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘When he caught up with us and the police were taking George away he said —’

  ‘James was with the police? When they found you?’

  ‘James was the one that found us, with some other guy who tipped him off,’ Lydia replied. ‘And James said that you hated him and had every right to, or something bizarre like that.’

  ‘I don’t believe . . .’

  ‘Oh my God, Lizzie!’ Lydia gasped. ‘I shouldn’t have said that.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘James made me promise – he made the police promise too. He said he didn’t want anyone to know he’d been involved.’

  ‘I don’t get it,’ Lizzie sighed. ‘He saves you and then wants it hushed up? What’s all that about?’

  Lydia chewed her lip. ‘OK, I’ll tell you. But you have to keep it a secret – James will think I’m even more of a messed-up kid if you let it out.’

  ‘Don’t worry about James, just tell me,’ Lizzie urged.

  ‘Well, when the riot broke out at the party, George said we had to get out of there as fast as possible. I didn’t want to go but then things got really scary – broken bottles and guys throwing chairs and stuff and someone fell in the swimming pool – so I agreed. I thought we were just going to clear off till things died down.’

  ‘And George took the car?’

  ‘The keys were on a hook by the front door,’ she said defensively. ‘And he said it was just to get us to a safe place.’ She hesitated. ‘He said I was too precious to him to take any chances . . .’ Her voice broke. ‘And I was stupid enough to believe him.’

  Lizzie took her hand.

  ‘Go on,’ she encouraged gently.

  ‘It was really late – about three in the morning, I think – and George said it was best to lie low till the following day, because after all it wasn’t us that caused the damage,’ Lydia went on. ‘And that was true – honestly.’

  ‘OK, just tell it like it was.’

  ‘At first it was fun,’ Lydia said. ‘Next day, George said that the rest of the week was ours to do what we liked with and why should we go back and face the music for something that wasn’t our fault. I know, I know, I should have refused there and then, but I was scared too and I thought we’d lark around for a day or so and then come home.’

  She paused, obviously waiting for Lizzie’s reaction.

  ‘And then?’

  ‘George left the car in a lay-by and posted a letter to Greg – that’s Mrs Forster’s boyfriend – to say where it was,’ Lydia went on. ‘At least that’s what he told me. The police say there was no letter. By that evening, I was worried.’

  ‘Why didn’t you just phone and come home?’

  ‘My mobile was left at the party, and George said he’d lost his. He kept saying where was my sense of adventure and that kind of thing. And I did really fancy him. I felt kind of wild and grown-up.’

  ‘Lyddy, wild and grown-up don’t go together. What happened then?’

  ‘George had this amazing idea – I mean, you have to admit, he’s really clever. We caught a train and pitched up at the Laurel Grange Hotel.’

  ‘A hotel? What was clever about that?’

  ‘It’s a De Burgh Hotel, silly, one of the chain, and George did this huge thing about being a friend of the nephew of Katrina De Burgh – oh, he burbled on like crazy, it was hysterical, we couldn’t stop laughing and . . .’

  She caught Lizzie’s stern look and stopped.

  ‘It’s OK, I’ll never do it again,’ she muttered. ‘That stuff – I me
an, you feel great for an hour or so, but then I puked my guts up and felt like I was dying and . . .’

  ‘Lyddy, you didn’t take anything?’

  ‘He said it’d be fine and . . . I promise, I’ve learned my lesson. Drugs suck.’

  ‘And then what? Did you and he . . .?’ Lizzie let the words hang in the air.

  ‘He wanted to – I thought I did, but when it came to it, I chickened out and George – well, he had a lot to drink and kind of crashed.’

  ‘Thank God,’ Lizzie breathed. ‘You’re fifteen – he could have . . .’

  ‘Yeah, I know.’

  ‘And then?’

  ‘Next morning, there I was on TV,’ she said, with a slight smile that disappeared when she met Lizzie’s gaze. ‘We left there pretty damn quick, I can tell you.’

  ‘Without paying?’

  ‘We couldn’t risk going to the desk and being seen,’ Lydia pointed out. ‘I wanted to come home then. I told George I’d had enough. I felt homesick – you know what? It was the weirdest thing, but I missed Katie heaps. I really did.’

  ‘She’s your twin, it’s not that surprising,’ Lizzie remarked, although in truth she was fairly astonished herself. ‘Maybe you’ll be a bit nicer to her now.’

  ‘I have been a bit of cow, haven’t I?’ Lydia sighed. ‘Not that she didn’t deserve it half the time, what with —’

  ‘OK, OK, just carry on. George agreed to bring you home.’

  ‘Yes, he said he would and that was cool, but then . . .’ She hesitated.

  ‘What?’

  ‘The police believed me, you have to as well,’ Lydia blurted out. ‘I went to the loo and I found this packet of white stuff in my clutch bag. It freaked me out. I knew what it must be.’

  ‘And George put it there?’

  ‘I didn’t have time to ask, because as soon as I got out of there, he got this phone call.’

  ‘On the mobile he had supposedly lost?’ Lizzie snapped.

  ‘He lied,’ Lydia admitted. ‘And that’s what really freaked me. I began to wonder just why he’d do that.’

  She picked at a hangnail and eyed Lizzie doubtfully.

  ‘Anyway, that phone call – I know now that it was a set-up. James had organised it.’

  ‘James?’ Lizzie frowned, although her mind was racing ahead and she had a fair idea of what her sister was about to say.

  ‘See, he knew apparently that George had been involved with drugs and stuff before – he didn’t say how he knew and I didn’t ask. And you mustn’t mention that – he was really cagey about it.’

  ‘I won’t,’ Lizzie said. No need, she knew it all anyway. ‘Keep going.’ She squeezed her sister’s hand encouragingly.

  ‘All I know is that there was this guy – Adam, I think he was called – who owed James a favour and who was also a mate of George’s. Adam called George on his mobile, pretended he wanted something.’

  ‘Cocaine?’

  Lydia nodded. ‘George told him to meet him at this diner place in the town. He told me it would only take ten minutes and then he’d get me a train ticket home. When we turned up, there was James. With the police.’

  ‘Oh, Lyddy!’ Lizzie leaned forward and gave her sister a hug. ‘Thank God you’re safe.’

  ‘I thought I loved him, Lizzie,’ Lydia whispered. ‘More than Denny, more than any guy before. He made me feel special. And all the time he was selling that foul stuff and . . . why was I such an idiot?’

  ‘It’s OK,’ Lizzie sighed. ‘We all fall for the wrong guy from time to time. And let the right one slip through our fingers.’

  ‘Sorry, what was that last bit? What did you say?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Lizzie replied. ‘Nothing important.’

  For the next two days, Lizzie tried to phone James. When she couldn’t get through – his phone appeared to be permanently switched off – she sent a text. He didn’t reply.

  She had just put the phone down after her tenth attempt, when it rang again almost immediately.

  ‘Lizzie, Lizzie, you won’t believe it! Oh my God, it’s like a dream come true. Charlie and me – we’re back together.’

  ‘Jane, that’s wonderful!’ Lizzie cried. ‘What happened?’

  ‘He rang me and said he had to see me urgently,’ Jane gabbled, raising her voice against the babble in the Student Union bar. ‘And he told me everything. He knows he was silly to listen to James and he said that all through the holiday in Italy, he couldn’t get me out of his head.’

  ‘So how come he never called you?’

  ‘I asked him that,’ Jane replied hastily. ‘He said that after James had convinced him there was someone else on the scene, he decided to back off.’

  ‘Wow . . .’

  ‘But then, he found he was missing me so much that he made up his mind to do everything he could to get me back!’

  ‘It’s wonderful,’ Lizzie enthused. ‘I’m so happy for you.’

  ‘I really am in love this time,’ Jane sighed happily. ‘I realise now that what I thought I felt for Simon was just nothing compared with this. And guess what? Charlie’s coming back to Longbourn next weekend because the people renting their house have to go home unexpectedly and his mum wants him to sort stuff. I’m coming up with him.’

  ‘Brilliant!’

  ‘And so is James.’

  ‘James?’ Lizzie squeaked, her heart suddenly racing.

  ‘Uh-huh. He insisted. Said he had something very important to attend to.’

  ‘I wonder what that could be.’

  ‘Whatever,’ laughed Jane. ‘I suggest you organise a hairdresser, new lippy and a spending spree by Friday evening.’

  ‘But . . . I’m due to go back to France on Thursday,’ Lizzie explained. ‘I won’t be here.’

  ‘Lizzie, you have to be there. What’s a day or two one way or another? This could be very important. Got to go, Charlie’s here. Bye!’

  CHAPTER 14

  ‘He expressed himself . . . as warmly as a man violently in

  love can be supposed to do.’

  (Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice)

  LIZZIE HATED TELLING LIES, BUT THERE WERE TIMES WHEN bending the truth just a little was too tempting to avoid. She phoned Madeleine LeFevre and explained that she couldn’t get a flight on Thursday, and wondered if since her sister needed time with the family, she could stay till Monday morning, and return then. Madeleine was effusive in her concern for both Lizzie and Lydia and suggested she took a whole week before heading back to the Centre.

  Lizzie hung up feeling extremely happy. The call that came through five minutes later, however, put paid to that feeling pretty promptly.

  ‘Lizzie, it’s Katrina De Burgh here. Now will you tell me just what is going on between you and my nephew?’

  ‘I’m sorry?’

  ‘Sorry? I should think you are – I really don’t understand it. One minute, James is promising to spend Jenna’s half-term week here with me; the next, he’s disappearing off to England and Jenna tells me his last words before leaving were “I have to see poor Lizzie through this mess”.’

  Lizzie opened her mouth, but it seemed that the power of speech had left her.

  ‘Jenna told me that one of your sisters was in trouble with the police. Well, of course, I thought she’d got it wrong, she has a vivid imagination, that girl, sweetheart though she is, but then – well, I can hardly speak of it.’

  ‘Speak of what, Mrs De Burgh?’

  ‘I hear from the manager at De Burgh Laurel Grove that the police had been there, making enquiries. Someone saw a girl who turned out to be your sister with a young man and . . .’

  There was a long silence. Lizzie’s heart was thumping too hard for her to bother to say a word.

  ‘ . . . and after they had left, without paying, I may add, the police found drugs in the bedroom. The local paper got hold of the story, and the next thing I know is that it’s all over the tabloids.’

  Lizzie swallowed hard, thankful that her parents on
ly took the Daily Telegraph, but well aware that there were plenty of people who would relish alerting them to every last paragraph in the gutter press.

  ‘This is a disaster for De Burgh Hotels,’ Katrina went on. ‘We have a reputation and of course, even in France it’s public knowledge – it’s been mentioned on News Twentyfour that our hotel was involved. Our slogan is —’

  ‘Mrs De Burgh, I don’t actually care what your slogan is,’ Lizzie interrupted, feeling the heat surge to her cheeks as she tried to keep her voice level. ‘Not once in this conversation have you asked whether my sister is OK, whether George Wickham harmed her, how she is feeling. Nothing. All you have done is worry about your reputation.’

  ‘Yes, but you have to understand . . .’

  ‘Oh, I understand. I understand that your business is your life.’

  ‘That’s right, dear,’ Katrina said, clearly trying to retrieve her position. ‘And because of that . . .’

  ‘And because of that, I imagine, James doesn’t want to be any part of it. Well, I’m with James . . .’

  ‘You mean you and he are an item?’

  ‘No, I don’t, not that it is any business of yours. I mean, I agree with his priorities. Helping other people matters more than any high-flown business reputation. And now if you don’t mind, Mrs De Burgh, I have to go. I have people to avoid.’

  It wasn’t until she had hurled the handset halfway across the room that she remembered who she had last heard saying those very words.

  ‘It’s me. James.’

  For the first time, as she pressed the phone to her ear, Lizzie realised what a sexy voice James had.

  ‘You’re not doing anything today, so I wondered – would you spend it with me?’

  Lizzie felt a surge of excitement. Not that she was going to let him get away with being so presumptuous.

  ‘How do you know I’m not booked up from morning till night?’ she teased.

  ‘Jane assured me you were completely free,’ he replied. ‘And since she and Charlie are going boating at Barcombe, I thought you and I might go to the seaside.’