Twenties Girl

Twenties Girl Page 43

“The man I just met. I felt it, right here. The sizzle.” She presses her concave stomach. “I want to dance with him.”

Is she joking?

“Well, that would be nice,” I say at last, in placatory tones. “But I’ve really got to get to the office-”

As I move forward, Sadie thrusts a bare arm across my path and I stop, taken aback.

“Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve danced?” she says with sudden passion. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve… shaken my booty? All those years, trapped in an old woman’s body. In a place with no music, with no life…”

I feel a rub of guilt inside as I remember the picture of Sadie, ancient and wrinkled in her pink shawl.

“OK,” I say quickly. “Fair enough. So, let’s dance at home. We’ll put on some music, dim the lights, have a little party-”

“I don’t want to dance at home to the wireless!” she says scornfully. “I want to go out with a man and enjoy myself!”

“You want to go on a date,” I say disbelievingly, and her eyes light up.

“Yes! Exactly! A date with a man. With him.” She points at the building.

What exactly is it about being a ghost that she doesn’t understand?

“Sadie, you’re dead.”

“I know!” she says in irritation. “You don’t have to keep reminding me!”

“So you can’t go on a date. Sorry. That’s the way it is.” I shrug and start walking on again. Two seconds later, Sadie lands in front of me once more, her jaw set.

“Ask him for me.”

“What?”

“I can’t do it on my own.” Her voice is fast and determined. “I need a go-between. If you go out with him on a date, I can go out with him on a date. If you dance with him, I can dance with him too.”

She’s serious. I almost want to burst out laughing.

“You want me to go on a date for you,” I say, to clarify. “With some random guy I don’t know. So you can have a dance.”

“I just want one last little burst of fun with a handsome man while I still have the chance.” Sadie’s head falls forward and her mouth pouts into the sad little O shape again. “One more whirl around a dance floor. That’s all I ask before I disappear from this world.” Her voice descends to a low, pitiful whisper. “It’s my last desire. My final wish.”

“It’s not your final wish!” I say, a bit indignantly. “You’ve already had your final wish! It was searching for your necklace, remember?”

For an instant Sadie looks caught out.

“This is my other final wish,” she says at last.

“Look, Sadie.” I try to sound reasonable. “I can’t just ask a stranger on a date. You’ll have to do without this one. Sorry.”

Sadie is surveying me with such a silent, quivering, wounded expression that I wonder if I somehow stepped on her foot.

“You’re really saying no,” she says at last, her voice cracking as though with emotion. “You’re really refusing me. One last innocent wish. One tiny request.”

“Look-”

“I was in that nursing home for years. Never any visitors. Never any laughter. Never any life. Just oldness… and loneliness… and misery…”

Oh God. She can’t do this to me. It’s not fair.

“Every Christmas, all alone, never a visitor… never a present…”

“It wasn’t my fault,” I say feebly, but Sadie ignores me.

“And now I see the chance of a sliver of happiness. A morsel of pleasure. Yet my own callous, selfish great-niece-”

“OK!” I stop in my tracks and rub my forehead. “OK! Whatever! Fine! I’ll do it.”

Everyone in my life thinks I’m a lunatic anyway. Asking a stranger on a date will make no difference; in fact, my dad will probably be delighted.

“You’re an angel!” Sadie’s mood has instantly flipped to giddy excitement. She whirls around on the pavement, the panels on her dress flying out. “I’ll show you where he is! Come on!”

I follow her toward the massive steps and push my way into the huge double-height foyer. If I’m going to do this, I need to do it very quickly, before I change my mind.

“So where is he?” I look around the echoing marble chamber.

“In a room upstairs! Come on!” She’s like a puppy straining the leash.

“I can’t just walk into an office building!” I hiss back, gesturing at the electronic security barriers. “I need a plan. I need an excuse. I need … aha.”