Home > Twenties Girl(111)

Twenties Girl(111)
Author: Sophie Kinsella

“Maybe,” I mumble, still staring at the table.

“What’s wrong?” asks Dad gently. “Darling, why are you resisting this? You wanted to work for Uncle Bill.”

“I know. But it’s… complicated.”

“Lara, can I give you a piece of advice?” Dad waits until I look up. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Relax. Maybe it’s not as complicated as you think.”

I look at Dad, at his straight face, his honest eyes. If I told him the truth, he wouldn’t believe any of it. He’d think I’m a paranoid delusional or taking drugs. Or both.

“Did Uncle Bill mention a necklace at all?” I can’t help saying.

“A necklace?” Dad looks puzzled. “No. What necklace?”

“I… it’s nothing.” I sigh. I take a sip of Lingtoncino and look up to see that Dad is watching me. He smiles, but I can tell he’s troubled.

“Darling, you have a wonderful opportunity here.” He gestures at the letter. “A chance for you to get your life back on track. Maybe you should just take it. Don’t overthink it. Don’t look for problems that don’t exist. Just take your chance.”

He doesn’t understand. How could he? Sadie isn’t a problem that doesn’t exist. She does exist. She’s real. She’s a person, and she’s my friend, and she needs me-

Then where is she? says a sharp voice in my head, like a knife thumping into a block. If she exists, where is she?

I start in shock. Where did that voice come from? I can’t be doubting-I can’t be thinking-

I feel a sudden feathery panic. Of course Sadie’s real. Of course she is. Don’t be ridiculous. Stop thinking like this.

But now Ginny’s voice is running through my head again. I think it’s all in the head, Lara. It’s what people want to believe .

No. No way. I mean … No .

Feeling giddy, I take a gulp of Lingtoncino and look around the coffee shop, trying to anchor myself to reality. Lingtons is real. Dad is real. The job offer is real. And Sadie is real. I know she is. I mean, I saw her. I heard her. We talked together. We danced together, for God’s sake.

And, anyway, how could I possibly have invented her? How would I have known anything about her? How would I have known about the necklace? I never even met her!

“Dad.” I look at him abruptly. “We never visited Great-Aunt Sadie, did we? Except that time when I was a baby.”

“Actually, that’s not quite true.” Dad shoots me a cautious look. “Mum and I were talking about it after the funeral. We remembered that we once took you to see her when you were six.”

“Six.” I swallow. “Was she… wearing a necklace?”

“She might have been.” Dad shrugs.

I met Great-Aunt Sadie at the age of six. I could have seen the necklace. I could have remembered… without realizing that I remembered.

My thoughts are in free fall. I’m hollow and chilly inside. I feel as though everything’s turning on its head. For the first time I’m seeing a new possible reality.

I could have made this whole story up in my head. It’s what I wanted. I felt so guilty we never knew her that I invented her in my subconscious. I mean, when I first saw her that’s what I thought she was. A hallucination.

“Lara?” Dad peers at me. “Are you OK, darling?”

I try to smile back at him, but I’m too preoccupied. There are two voices arguing in my head, right across each other. The first is crying out, Sadie’s real, you know she is! She’s out there! She’s your friend and she’s hurt and you have to find her! The second is calmly intoning, She doesn’t exist. She never did. You’ve wasted enough time. Get your life back .

I’m breathing hard, trying to let my thoughts balance out, let my instincts settle. But I don’t know what to think. I don’t trust myself anymore. Maybe I really am crazy…

“Dad, do you think I’m mad?” I blurt out in desperation. “Seriously. Should I see someone?”

Dad bursts into laughter. “No! Darling, of course not!” He puts his coffee cup down and leans forward. “I think your emotions run high and sometimes your imagination too. You get that from your mother. And sometimes you let them get the better of you. But you’re not mad. No madder than Mum, anyway.”

“Right.” I swallow. “Right.”

That’s not much consolation, to be honest.

With fumbling fingers, I pick up Uncle Bill’s letter and read it through again. If I look at it in a completely different way, there’s nothing sinister. There’s nothing wrong. He’s just a rich guy trying to help out his niece. I could take the job. I’d be Lara Lington of Lingtons Coffee. I’d have a great future in front of me, salary, car, prospects. Everyone would be happy. Everything would be easy. My memories of Sadie would melt away. My life would feel normal.

It would be so, so easy.

“You haven’t been home for a while,” Dad says kindly. “Why not come and spend the weekend? Mum would love to see you.”

“Yes,” I say after a pause. “I’d like that. I haven’t been back for ages.”

“It’ll restore your spirits.” Dad gives me his endearing little crooked smile. “If your life’s at a juncture and you need to think about things, there’s nowhere better than home. However old you are.”

“‘There’s no place like home.’” I raise half a smile.

“Dorothy had a point. Now eat up.” He gestures at my tuna melt. But I’m only half listening.

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