Twenties Girl - Kinsella Sophie - Страница 46
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FOURTEEN
I can never resist telling people good news. I mean, why not brighten someone else’s life too? So by the following morning I’ve texted all my friends that Josh and I are back together. And some of his friends, just because I happened to have their numbers programmed in my phone. And the guy at Dial-a-Pizza. (That was a mistake. He was pleased for me, though.)
“Oh my God, Lara!” Kate’s voice bursts through the office door at the same time as she does. “You made up with Josh?”
“Oh, you got my text,” I say nonchalantly. “Yeah, it’s cool, isn’t it?”
“It’s amazing! I mean… it’s incredible!”
She doesn’t need to sound quite so surprised. But it’s nice to have someone pleased for me. Sadie’s such a downer on the whole thing. She hasn’t said she’s happy for me once, and every time I got a text back from one of my friends last night, she huffed. Even now she’s gazing disapprovingly at me from her perch on top of the filing cabinet. But I don’t care, because I’ve got my most important phone call of all to make, and I am so looking forward to it. I dial the number, lean back, and wait for Dad to pick up. (Answering the phone makes Mum anxious, because it might be kidnappers. Don’t ask.)
“Michael Lington.”
“Oh, hi, Dad, it’s Lara,” I say in the casual tone I’ve been practicing all morning. “I just thought I’d let you know that Josh and I are back together again.”
“What?” says Dad after a pause.
“Yes, we bumped into each other yesterday,” I say airily. “And he said he still loved me and he’d made a huge mistake.”
There’s another silence at the other end of the phone. Dad must be too gobsmacked to answer.
Ha. This is such a sweet moment! I want to relish it forever. After all those weeks of people telling me I was sad and deluded and should move on. They were all wrong.
“So it looks like I was right, doesn’t it?” I can’t resist adding. “I said we were meant to be together.” I shoot Sadie a gloating look.
“Lara…” Dad doesn’t sound as happy as I thought he would. In fact, he sounds pretty stressed, bearing in mind his younger daughter has found happiness in the arms of the man she loves. “Are you absolutely sure that you and Josh…” He hesitates. “Are you sure that’s what he meant?”
Honestly. Does he think I’ve made it up or something?
“You can call him if you like! You can ask him! We bumped into each other, and we had a drink and talked about stuff, and he said he still loves me. And now we’re back together. Just like you and Mum.”
“Well.” I can hear Dad breathing out. “That’s quite… incredible. Wonderful news.”
“I know.” I can’t help smiling complacently. “It just goes to show. Relationships are complicated things, and other people shouldn’t barge in and think they know all about it.”
“Indeed,” he says faintly.
Poor Dad. I think I’ve practically given him a heart attack.
“Hey.” I cast around for something to cheer him up. “Dad, I was thinking about our family history the other day. And I was wondering, have you got any pictures of Great-Aunt Sadie’s house?”
“Sorry, darling?” Dad sounds like he’s having trouble keeping up.
“The old family house that burned down. In Archbury. You showed me a photograph of it once. Have you still got it?”
“I think so.” Dad’s voice is wary. “Lara, you seem a bit obsessed by Great-Aunt Sadie.”
“I’m not obsessed,” I say resentfully. “All I’m doing is showing a little interest in my heritage. I thought you’d be pleased.”
“I am pleased,” says Dad quickly. “Of course I am. I’m just… surprised. You’ve never been interested in family history before.”
This is a fair point. He brought out some old photo album last Christmas and I fell asleep while he was showing it to me. (In my defense, I had eaten quite a few liqueur chocolates.)
“Yes, well… people change, don’t they? And I’m interested now. I mean, that photo’s the only thing we’ve got left of the house, isn’t it?”
“Not quite the only thing,” says Dad. “You know, the oak desk in the hall came from that house.”
“In our hall?” I stare at the phone in surprise. “I thought everything was lost in the fire.”
“A very few things were salvaged.” I can tell Dad’s relaxed a little. “They were put in a storage unit and left there for years. Nobody could face dealing with it. It was Bill who sorted it all out, after your grandfather died. He was at a loose end. I was doing my accountancy exams. Strange to imagine, but Bill was the idler in those days.” Dad laughs, and I can hear him take a sip of coffee. “That was the year your mother and I got married. That oak desk was our first piece of furniture. It’s a wonderful piece of original art nouveau.”
“Wow.”
I’m riveted by this story. I’ve walked past that desk about ten thousand times, but it’s never once occurred to me to wonder where it came from. Maybe it was Sadie’s own desk! Maybe it has all her secret papers in it! As I put the phone down, Kate is working industriously. I can’t send her on yet another coffee run. But I’m desperate to tell Sadie what I just heard.
Hey, Sadie! I type in a new document. Not everything was lost in the fire! There were some things in a storage unit! Guess what? We have a desk from your old house!
Maybe it has a hidden drawer full of all her lost treasures, I’m thinking excitedly. And only Sadie knows how to open it. She’ll tell me the secret code, and I’ll gently tug it open and blow off the dust, and inside will be… something really cool. I gesticulate at her and point at my screen.
“I know that desk was saved,” says Sadie, after reading my message. She sounds deeply unimpressed by the news. “I was sent a list of things at the time, in case I wanted to claim anything. Hideous crockery. Dull bits of pewter. Dreadful furniture. None of it interested me.”
It’s not dreadful furniture, I type, a little indignantly. It’s a wonderful piece of original art nouveau.
I look up at Sadie, and she’s sticking a finger down her throat. “It’s minging,” she says, and I can’t help giggling.
Where did you learn that word? I type.
“Picked it up.” Sadie gives an insouciant shrug.
So I told my dad about Josh, I type, and look at Sadie for a reaction. But she rolls her eyes and disappears.
Fine. Be like that. I don’t care what she thinks, anyway. I lean back, take out my mobile, and flip to one of Josh’s texts. I feel all warm and content, as though I just drank a cup of hot chocolate. I’m back with Josh, and all’s right with the world.
Maybe I’ll text Josh and tell him how pleased everyone is for us.
No. I don’t want to hound him. I’ll leave it half an hour or so.
Across the room, the phone rings, and I wonder if maybe it’s him. But a moment later Kate says, “I’ll put you on hold,” and looks up anxiously. “Lara, it’s Janet from Leonidas Sports. Shall I put her through?”
All the hot chocolate drains out of my stomach.
“Yes. OK, I’ll speak to her. Just give me thirty seconds.” I psych myself up, then lift the phone with my breeziest top-recruitment-consultant manner. “Hi, Janet! How are you? Did you get the short list all right?”
Kate emailed the short list to Janet last night. I should have known she’d call. I should have gone out for the day or pretended to have lost my voice.
“I hope you’re as excited by it as I am,” I add brightly.
“No, I’m not,” Janet says in her usual hoarse, peremptory tones. “Lara, I don’t understand. Why’s Clive Hoxton on the list?”
“Ah, Clive,” I say, trying to sound confident. “What a man. What a talent.”
OK, so here’s the thing. I know my lunch with Clive didn’t end brilliantly. But the truth is, he’d be perfect for the job. And I might be able to talk him around before the interview. So I put him on the list anyway, with provisional after his name in small letters.
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