Twenties Girl

This is the answer. This is it. This is why she was sent to me.

“Sadie!” I leap to my feet, powered by a kind of giddy adrenaline. “I’ve worked it out! I know why you’re here! It’s to get me and Josh back together!”

“No, it’s not,” Sadie objects at once. “It’s to get my necklace.”

“You can’t be here just for some crummy old necklace.” I make a brushing-aside gesture. “Maybe the real reason is you’re supposed to help me! That’s why you were sent!”

“I wasn’t sent!” Sadie appears mortally offended at the very idea. “And my necklace isn’t crummy! And I don’t want to help you. You’re supposed to be helping me.”

“Who says? I bet you’re my guardian angel.” I’m getting carried away here. “I bet you’ve been sent back to earth to show me that actually my life is wonderful, like in that movie.”

Sadie looks at me silently for a moment, then surveys the kitchen.

“I don’t think your life’s wonderful,” she says. “I think it’s rather drab. And your haircut’s atrocious.”

I glare at her furiously. “You’re a crap guardian angel!”

“I’m not your guardian angel!” she shoots back.

“How do you know?” I clutch at my chest determinedly. “I’m getting a very strong psychic feeling that you’re here to help me get back together with Josh. The spirits are telling me.”

“Well, I’m getting a very strong psychic feeling that I’m not supposed to get you back together with Josh,” she retorts at once. “The spirits are telling me.”

She’s got a nerve. What would she know about spirits? Is she the one who can see ghosts?

“Well, I’m alive, so I’m boss,” I snap. “And I say you’re supposed to help me. Otherwise, maybe I won’t have time to look for your necklace.”

I didn’t mean to put it quite as bluntly as that. But then, she forced me into it by being so selfish. I mean, honestly. She should want to help her own great-niece.

Sadie’s eyes flash angrily at me, but I can tell she knows she’s caught out.

“Very well,” she says at last, and her slim shoulders heave in a huge, put-upon sigh. “It’s a terrible idea, but I suppose I have no choice. What do you want me to do?”

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 sca

“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?”