Twenties Girl
Page 38
“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 scanning my face. “You haven’t replied to any of my texts or messages. We were getting worried!”
“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?”
Damn. OK, I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear him.
Mum and Dad are exchanging looks. “Isn’t that where Josh lives?” says Mum tentatively.
“I don’t remember,” I say carelessly. “Anyway, it’s for someone else-”
“Thirty-two Bickenhall Mansions?” The driver has leaned farther out of his cab, his voice raised higher. “Lara Lington? You book taxi?”
Bugger.
“Why are you going to Josh’s flat?” Mum sounds beside herself.
“I’m… not!” I flounder. “It must be some car I booked months ago, finally turning up! They’re always late. You’re six months late! Go away!” I shoo at the bemused driver, who eventually puts the car into gear and drives away.
There’s a kind of tense silence. Dad’s expression is so transparent it’s endearing. He wants to believe the best of me. On the other hand, the evidence is all pointing one way.
“Lara, do you swear that taxi wasn’t for you?” he says at last.
“I swear.” I nod. “On… Great-Aunt Sadie’s life.”
I hear a gasp and look around to see Sadie’s eyes beaming fury at me.
“I couldn’t think of anything else!” I say defensively.
“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 scanning my face. “You haven’t replied to any of my texts or messages. We were getting worried!”
“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?”
Damn. OK, I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear him.
Mum and Dad are exchanging looks. “Isn’t that where Josh lives?” says Mum tentatively.
“I don’t remember,” I say carelessly. “Anyway, it’s for someone else-”
“Thirty-two Bickenhall Mansions?” The driver has leaned farther out of his cab, his voice raised higher. “Lara Lington? You book taxi?”
Bugger.
“Why are you going to Josh’s flat?” Mum sounds beside herself.
“I’m… not!” I flounder. “It must be some car I booked months ago, finally turning up! They’re always late. You’re six months late! Go away!” I shoo at the bemused driver, who eventually puts the car into gear and drives away.
There’s a kind of tense silence. Dad’s expression is so transparent it’s endearing. He wants to believe the best of me. On the other hand, the evidence is all pointing one way.
“Lara, do you swear that taxi wasn’t for you?” he says at last.
“I swear.” I nod. “On… Great-Aunt Sadie’s life.”
I hear a gasp and look around to see Sadie’s eyes beaming fury at me.
“I couldn’t think of anything else!” I say defensively.
