Twenties Girl

Twenties Girl Page 41

I can’t help feeling a reluctant interest in her story.

“Didn’t the other guy sound different?”

“He said his voice was high from nerves. He said her presence reduced him to a trembling leaf. Polly replied that she understood, because her own legs were like aspic.” Sadie starts giggling. “We all called her Aspic for ages after that.”

“That’s so mean!” I say in horror. “She didn’t realize it was a trick?”

“Only when the bushes all started shaking around the garden. Then my friend Bunty rolled out onto the grass, she was laughing so hard, and the game was up. Poor Polly.” Sadie gives a sudden giggle. “She was foaming. She didn’t speak to any of us all summer.”

“I’m not surprised!” I exclaim. “I think you were all really cruel! And, anyway, what if their love affair wasn’t dead? What if you ruined her chance of true love?”

“True love!” echoes Sadie with a derisive laugh. “You’re so old-fashioned!”

“Old-fashioned?” I echo incredulously.

“You’re just like my grandmother, with your love songs and your sighing. You even have a little miniature of your beloved in your handbag, don’t you? Don’t deny it! I’ve seen you looking at it.”

It takes me a moment to work out what she’s talking about.

“It isn’t a miniature, actually. It’s called a mobile phone.”

“Whatever it’s called. You still look at it and make goo-goo eyes and then you take your smelling salts out of that little bottle-”

“That’s Rescue Remedy!” I say furiously. God, she’s starting to wind me up. “So you don’t believe in love, is that what you’re saying? You weren’t ever in love? Not even when you were married?”

A passing postman shoots me a curious look, and I hastily put a hand to my ear as though adjusting an earpiece. I must start wearing one as camouflage.

Sadie hasn’t answered me, and as we reach the tube station I stop dead to survey her, suddenly genuinely curious. “You were really never in love?”

There’s the briefest pause, then Sadie flings her arms out with a rattle of bracelets, her head thrown back. “I had fun. That’s what I believe in. Fun, flings, the sizzle…”

“What sizzle?”

“That’s what we called it, Bunty and I.” Her mouth curves in a reminiscent smile. “It starts as a shiver, when you see a man for the first time. And then he meets your eye and the shiver runs down your back and becomes a sizzle in your stomach and you think I want to dance with that man .”

“And then what happens?”

“You dance, you have a cocktail or two, you flirt…” Her eyes are shining.

“Do you-”

I want to ask, “Do you shag him?” but I’m not sure it’s the kind of question you ask your 105-year-old great-aunt. Then I remember the visitor from the nursing home.

“Hey.” I raise my eyebrows. “You can say what you like, but I know there was someone special in your life.”

“What do you mean?” She stares at me, suddenly tense. “What are you talking about?”

“A certain gentleman by the name of… Charles Reece?”

I’m hoping to provoke a blush or gasp or something, but she looks blank.

“I’ve never heard of him.”

“Charles Reece! He came to visit you in the nursing home? A few weeks ago?”

Sadie shakes her head. “I don’t remember.” The light in her eyes fades as she adds, “I don’t remember much about that place at all.”

“I suppose you wouldn’t…” I pause awkwardly. “You had a stroke, years ago.”

“I know.” She glares at me.

God, she doesn’t have to be so touchy. It’s not my fault. Suddenly I realize my phone is vibrating. I pull it out of my pocket and see that it’s Kate.

“Hi, Kate!”

“Lara? Hi! Um, I was wondering… are you coming into work today? Or not?” she adds quickly, as though she might have offended me by asking. “I mean, either way is great, everything’s fine…”

Shit. I’ve been so absorbed in Josh, I’d almost forgotten about work.

“I’m on my way in,” I say hastily. “I was just doing a bit of… er… research at home. Is anything up?”

“It’s Shireen. She wants to know what you’ve done about her dog. She sounded quite upset. In fact, she was talking about pulling out of the job.”

Oh God. I haven’t even thought about Shireen and her dog.