Home > Twenties Girl(101)

Twenties Girl(101)
Author: Sophie Kinsella

“Lara! Jesus! What happened?” Ed looks totally freaked out. I suddenly notice that all the other people in the pod have stopped staring out at the view and are goggling at me.

“Nothing!” I manage. “Sorry. I just… I was…” As he puts his arm around me, I flinch. “Ed, I’m sorry… I can’t…”

After a pause Ed takes his arm away. “Sure.”

We’ve reached the ground now. Shooting anxious glances at me, Ed ushers me off the pod and onto solid ground.

“So.” His tone is cheerful, but I can tell he’s perturbed. As well he might be. “What’s up?”

“I can’t explain,” I say miserably. I’m desperately scanning the horizon, searching for any sight of Sadie.

“Would a Ye Olde Starbucks help? Lara?”

“Sorry.” I stop looking around and focus on Ed’s concerned face. “Ed, I’m so sorry. I can’t do… this. It’s been a lovely day, but…”

“But… it didn’t go according to plan?” he says slowly.

“No. It’s not that!” I rub my face. “It’s… it’s complicated. I need to sort myself out.”

I look up at him, willing him to understand. Or half understand. Or at least not think I’m a flake.

“No problem.” He nods. “I get it. Things aren’t always clear-cut.” He hesitates, then touches my arm briefly. “Let’s leave it here, then. It’s been a great day. Thanks, Lara. You’ve been very generous with your time.”

He’s retreated into his formal gentlemanly style. All the warmth and joking between us has ebbed away. It’s like we’re two distant acquaintances. He’s protecting himself, I suddenly realize with a pang. He’s going back into his tunnel.

“Ed, I’d love to see you again sometime,” I say desperately. “Once things are… sorted out.”

“I’d like that.” I can tell he doesn’t believe me for a minute. “Let me call you a taxi.” As he looks up and down the road, I can see his frown returning, like little lines of disappointment.

“No. I’ll just stay here a bit and wander about, get my head straight.” I muster a smile. “Thanks. For everything.”

He gives me a farewell wave, like a salute, then heads off into the crowd. I stare after him, feeling crushed. I like him. I really, really like him. And now he feels hurt. And so do I. And so does Sadie. What a mess.

“So this is what you do behind my back!” Sadie’s voice in my ear makes me jump and clasp my chest. Has she been waiting there all this time? “You lying snake. You backstabber. I came here to see how you were getting on with Josh. With Josh!”

She whirls around in front of me, looking so incandescent, I find myself backing away.

“I’m sorry,” I stutter, clutching my phone to my ear as camouflage. “I’m sorry I lied to you. I didn’t want to admit Josh and I broke up. But I’m not a backstabber! I didn’t mean for Ed and me to kiss, I didn’t mean any of this, I didn’t plan it-”

“I don’t care whether you planned it or not!” she shrieks. “Keep your hands off him!”

“Sadie, I’m really sorry-”

“I found him! I danced with him! He’s mine! Mine! Mine!”

She’s so self-righteous, and so livid, and she’s not even listening to what I’m saying. And suddenly, from underneath all my guilt I feel a surge of resentment.

“How can he be yours?” I hear myself yelling. “You’re dead! Haven’t you realized that yet? You’re dead! He doesn’t even know you exist!”

“Yes, he does!” She brings her face close to mine, a murderous look in her eye. “He can hear me!”

“So what? It’s not like he’ll ever meet you, is it? You’re a ghost! A ghost !” All my misery at the situation is bursting out in a vent of anger. “Talk about self-deluded! Talk about not facing up to the truth, Sadie! You keep telling me to move on! How about you move on?”

Even as I’m uttering the words, I’m realizing how they sound, how they might be misinterpreted. And I’m wishing beyond anything I could take them back. A tremor of shock passes across Sadie’s face. She looks as though I’ve slapped her.

She can’t think I meant…

Oh God.

“Sadie, I wasn’t… I didn’t…” My words are all jumbled up in my mouth. I don’t even quite know what I want to say. Sadie looks hollow-eyed. She’s gazing out at the river as though she’s not even aware of me anymore.

“You’re right,” she says at last. All the spirit has gone out of her voice. “You’re right. I’m dead.”

“No you’re not!” I say in distress. “I mean… OK, maybe you are. But-”

“I’m dead. It’s over. You don’t want me. He doesn’t want me. What’s the point?”

She starts walking away toward Waterloo Bridge and disappears from view. Racked with guilt, I hurry after her and up the steps. She’s already halfway along the bridge, and I run to catch up. She’s standing still, staring out toward St. Paul’s Cathedral, a willowy figure in the grayness, and gives no sign of realizing I’m there.

“Sadie, it’s not over!” My voice is almost lost in the wind. “Nothing’s over! I wasn’t thinking, I was just angry at you, I was talking rubbish-”

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