Twenties Girl
Page 69
There’s a tiny flicker of surprise in her eyes, then she takes the list and nods without any questions, like some loyal army lieutenant. “Absolutely!”
I run my finger down past all the scribbled-out names and dial the next number. After a few rings a woman picks up.
“Hello?”
“Hi there! My name’s Lara Lington, you don’t know me…”
It’s two hours later before I finally put the phone down and look up wearily at Kate. “Any luck?”
“No.” She sighs. “Sorry. How about you?”
“Nothing.”
I slump back in my chair and rub my telephone-red cheeks. My adrenaline evaporated about an hour ago. As I neared the end of the list, it was turning to a heavy kind of disappointment. We’ve ruled out every single number. I don’t have anywhere else to turn. What am I going to do now?
“Shall I go on a sandwich run?” says Kate tentatively.
“Oh. Yeah.” I muster a smile. “Chicken and avocado please. Thanks so much.”
“No problem!” She bites her lip anxiously. “I hope you find it.”
As she leaves, I sink my head forward and rub my aching neck. I’ll just have to go back to the nursing home and ask more questions. There have to be more avenues to explore. There has to be an answer. It just doesn’t make sense. The necklace was there, around Sadie’s neck, and now it’s gone…
A thought suddenly strikes me. That visitor she had, Charles Reece. I never followed him up. I might as well tick every box. Fishing for my mobile, I find the number for the nursing home and wearily dial.
“Hello, Fairside Nursing Home,” answers a female voice.
“Hi! This is Lara Lington, Sadie Lancaster’s great-niece.”
“Oh, yes?”
“I was just wondering… can anyone tell me anything more about a visitor she had just before she died? A Charles Reece?”
“Just a moment.”
As I’m waiting, I get out the sketch of the necklace and study it as though for clues. I’ve looked at this picture so many times, I could practically draw each bead by heart. The more I’ve got to know it, the more beautiful it seems. I can’t bear it if Sadie never gets it back.
Maybe I should secretly have a copy made, I find myself thinking. An exact replica. I could get it distressed, tell Sadie it’s the original, she might just fall for it-
“Hello?” A cheerful voice rouses me from my thoughts. “Lara? It’s Sharon here, one of the nurses. I was with Sadie when Charles Reece visited; in fact, I signed him in. What do you want to know about him?”
I just want to know, has he got her necklace?
“Well… what exactly happened during his visit?”
“He sat with her for a bit, then he left. That’s it.”
“In her room?”
“Oh, yes,” she says at once. “Sadie didn’t really leave her room much in those last weeks.”
“Right. So… could he have taken a necklace from her?”
“Well, it’s possible.” She sounds doubtful.
It’s possible. That’s a start.
“Can you tell me what he was like? How old was he?”
“In his fifties or so, I’d say. Nice-looking chap.”
This gets more and more intriguing. Who on earth is he? Sadie’s boy toy?
“If he visits again or calls, could you let me know?” I scribble down Charles Reece-50s on my notepad. “And could you get his address?”
“I can try. Can’t promise.”
“Thanks.” I sigh, feeling a bit dispirited. How am I ever going to track this guy down? “And there’s nothing else you can tell me about him?” I add as a last-ditch attempt. “Nothing… distinctive? Nothing at all that you noticed?”
“Well.” She laughs. “It’s just funny, you being called Lington.”
“How come?” I stare at the phone, puzzled.
“Ginny says you’re not related to that Bill Lington off the coffee cups? Millionaire bloke?”
“Er… why do you ask?” I’m suddenly alert.
“Because that’s exactly who he looked like! I said it at the time, to the girls. Even though he had dark glasses on and a scarf, you could see it. He was the spitting image of Bill Lington.”
TWELVE
It makes no sense. None. It’s crazy, whichever way you look at it.
Was “Charles Reece” really Uncle Bill? But why would he visit Sadie? Why would he use a fake name? And why wouldn’t he mention it?
And as for the idea that he might have had anything to do with her necklace disappearing… I mean, hello? He’s a multimillionaire. Why would he need some old necklace?
I run my finger down past all the scribbled-out names and dial the next number. After a few rings a woman picks up.
“Hello?”
“Hi there! My name’s Lara Lington, you don’t know me…”
It’s two hours later before I finally put the phone down and look up wearily at Kate. “Any luck?”
“No.” She sighs. “Sorry. How about you?”
“Nothing.”
I slump back in my chair and rub my telephone-red cheeks. My adrenaline evaporated about an hour ago. As I neared the end of the list, it was turning to a heavy kind of disappointment. We’ve ruled out every single number. I don’t have anywhere else to turn. What am I going to do now?
“Shall I go on a sandwich run?” says Kate tentatively.
“Oh. Yeah.” I muster a smile. “Chicken and avocado please. Thanks so much.”
“No problem!” She bites her lip anxiously. “I hope you find it.”
As she leaves, I sink my head forward and rub my aching neck. I’ll just have to go back to the nursing home and ask more questions. There have to be more avenues to explore. There has to be an answer. It just doesn’t make sense. The necklace was there, around Sadie’s neck, and now it’s gone…
A thought suddenly strikes me. That visitor she had, Charles Reece. I never followed him up. I might as well tick every box. Fishing for my mobile, I find the number for the nursing home and wearily dial.
“Hello, Fairside Nursing Home,” answers a female voice.
“Hi! This is Lara Lington, Sadie Lancaster’s great-niece.”
“Oh, yes?”
“I was just wondering… can anyone tell me anything more about a visitor she had just before she died? A Charles Reece?”
“Just a moment.”
As I’m waiting, I get out the sketch of the necklace and study it as though for clues. I’ve looked at this picture so many times, I could practically draw each bead by heart. The more I’ve got to know it, the more beautiful it seems. I can’t bear it if Sadie never gets it back.
Maybe I should secretly have a copy made, I find myself thinking. An exact replica. I could get it distressed, tell Sadie it’s the original, she might just fall for it-
“Hello?” A cheerful voice rouses me from my thoughts. “Lara? It’s Sharon here, one of the nurses. I was with Sadie when Charles Reece visited; in fact, I signed him in. What do you want to know about him?”
I just want to know, has he got her necklace?
“Well… what exactly happened during his visit?”
“He sat with her for a bit, then he left. That’s it.”
“In her room?”
“Oh, yes,” she says at once. “Sadie didn’t really leave her room much in those last weeks.”
“Right. So… could he have taken a necklace from her?”
“Well, it’s possible.” She sounds doubtful.
It’s possible. That’s a start.
“Can you tell me what he was like? How old was he?”
“In his fifties or so, I’d say. Nice-looking chap.”
This gets more and more intriguing. Who on earth is he? Sadie’s boy toy?
“If he visits again or calls, could you let me know?” I scribble down Charles Reece-50s on my notepad. “And could you get his address?”
“I can try. Can’t promise.”
“Thanks.” I sigh, feeling a bit dispirited. How am I ever going to track this guy down? “And there’s nothing else you can tell me about him?” I add as a last-ditch attempt. “Nothing… distinctive? Nothing at all that you noticed?”
“Well.” She laughs. “It’s just funny, you being called Lington.”
“How come?” I stare at the phone, puzzled.
“Ginny says you’re not related to that Bill Lington off the coffee cups? Millionaire bloke?”
“Er… why do you ask?” I’m suddenly alert.
“Because that’s exactly who he looked like! I said it at the time, to the girls. Even though he had dark glasses on and a scarf, you could see it. He was the spitting image of Bill Lington.”
TWELVE
It makes no sense. None. It’s crazy, whichever way you look at it.
Was “Charles Reece” really Uncle Bill? But why would he visit Sadie? Why would he use a fake name? And why wouldn’t he mention it?
And as for the idea that he might have had anything to do with her necklace disappearing… I mean, hello? He’s a multimillionaire. Why would he need some old necklace?
