Twenties Girl (Page 143)

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“Actually, I do. I saw you being thrown out of that cinema.” She smirks. “It was very funny.”

“You were there?” I stare at her. “So how come you didn’t answer?”

“I was still upset.” Her chin tightens proudly. “I didn’t see why I should.”

Typical. I should have realized she would have borne a grudge against me for days.

“Well, I went all over the place. And I had quite a voyage of discovery. I need to tell you about it.” I’m trying to find a way of edging tactfully into the subject of Archbury and Stephen and the painting, but all of a sudden Sadie lifts her head and says, with a tiny grudging shrug:

“I missed you.”

I’m so taken aback I’m thrown off my stride. I feel a sudden prickle in my nose and rub it awkwardly.

“Well… me too. I missed you too.” Instinctively, I put my arms out to give her a hug-then realize how pointless that is and drop my hands down again. “Sadie, listen. There’s something I’ve got to tell you.”

“And there’s something I’ve got to tell you!” she cuts in with satisfaction. “I knew you’d come tonight. I was waiting for you.”

Honestly. She really does think she’s an all-powerful deity.

“You can’t have known,” I say patiently. “Even I didn’t know I was going to come. I just happened to be in the area, I heard the music, I wandered over-”

“I did know,” she insists. “And if you didn’t appear, I was going to find you and make you come. And do you know the reason?” Her eyes have started to glitter, and she’s peering this way and that through the crowd.

“Sadie.” I try to fix her eyes. “Please. Listen to me. I’ve got something really, really important to tell you. We need to go somewhere quiet, you need to listen, it’ll be a shock-”

“Well, I’ve got something really important to show you!” She’s not even listening to me properly. “There!” She suddenly points in triumph. “Over there! Look!”

I follow her gaze, squinting as I try to make out what she’s talking about… and my heart drops in dismay.

Ed.

He’s standing at the side of the dance floor. He’s holding a plastic glass of something, watching the band, and occasionally stumping from side to side to the music as though out of a sense of duty. He looks so unenthusiastic, I would almost want to laugh, if I didn’t also want to shrivel up and hide in a little box somewhere.

“Sadie…” I clutch my head. “What have you done?”

“Go and talk to him!” She motions me briskly.

“No,” I say in horror. “Don’t be stupid!”

“Go on!”

“I can’t talk to him. He hates me.” I quickly swivel away and hide behind a group of dancers before Ed can catch sight of me. Just seeing him is bringing back all kinds of memories I would rather forget. “Why did you make him come here, anyway?” I mutter at Sadie. “What exactly are you trying to achieve?”

“I felt guilty.” She gives me an accusing gaze, as though this is all my fault. “I don’t like feeling guilty. So I decided to do something about it.”

“You went and yelled at him.” I shake my head in disbelief.

This is all I need. She obviously frog-marched him here under total duress. He was probably planning a nice quiet evening in and now he finds himself standing at some stupid jazz festival, amid a load of dancing couples, all on his own. He’s probably having the worst evening of his life. And now she expects me to talk to him.

“I thought he was yours, anyway. I thought I ruined everything. What happened to all that?”

Sadie flinches slightly but holds her head high. I can see her looking at Ed through the crowd. There’s a brief, soft longing in her eyes, then she turns away.

“Not my type after all,” she says crisply. “He’s far too… alive. And so are you. So you’re well matched. Off you go! Ask him to dance.” She tries to push me toward Ed again.

“Sadie.” I shake my head. “I really appreciate you making the effort. But I can’t just make things up with him out of the blue. It’s not the right place, it’s not the right time. Now, can we go somewhere and talk?”

“Of course it’s the right time and place!” retorts Sadie, affronted. “That’s why he’s here! That’s why you’re here!”

“It’s not why I’m here!” I’m starting to lose it. I wish I could take her by the shoulders and shake her. “Sadie, don’t you understand? I need to talk to you! There are things I need to tell you! And you have to focus. You have to listen. Forget about Ed and me. This is about you! And Stephen! And your past! I’ve found out what happened! I’ve found the painting!”

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