Home > Twenties Girl(81)

Twenties Girl(81)
Author: Sophie Kinsella

“See you out there.” The door closes behind Ed, and I wheel around.

“Sadie,” I call desperately. “Sadie! Sadie!”

OK. I’m in trouble.

The door opens and I give a small squeak of fright. Ed looks in again, a bit puzzled.

“I forgot-do you want a drink from the bar?”

“No.” I smile weakly. “Thanks.”

“Everything OK?”

“Yes! Of course. I’m just… focusing my powers. Getting into the zone.”

“Sure.” He nods understandingly. “I’ll leave you be.” The door closes again.

Fuck. What am I going to do? In a minute they’ll start demanding I come out. They’ll expect me to mind read. They’ll expect me to do magic. My chest is tight with fear.

There’s only one option: I have to escape. I look desperately around the little room, which is obviously used to store spare banquet furniture. No window. There’s a fire escape door in the far corner, but it’s blocked by a massive stack of gold chairs about ten feet high. I try to pull the chairs aside, but they’re too heavy. Fine. I’ll climb over them.

Determinedly, I put one foot on a chair and haul myself up. Then another. The gold lacquer is a bit slippery, but I’m managing. It’s like a ladder. A wonky, rickety ladder.

The only trouble is, the higher I get, the more the chairs are swaying. By the time I’m about eight feet up, the stack of chairs is teetering at quite a scary angle. It’s like the Leaning Tower of Gold Chairs, with me crouching in terror near the top.

If I took just one more huge step, I’d be over the summit and I could quickly scramble down the other side to the fire exit. But every time I move my foot, the stack wobbles so much I withdraw it in fright. I try shifting to the side-but the stack lurches even more. I clutch another chair desperately, not daring to look down. The whole thing feels like it’s going to fall, and the ground seems a really long way away.

I take a deep breath. I can’t stay here frozen forever. There’s nothing for it. I have to be brave and go over the top. I take a massive step up, placing my foot on a chair about three from the top. But as I shift my weight, the stack leans back so far I can’t help screaming.

“Lara!” The door bursts open and Ed appears. “What the hell-”

“Heeelp!” The whole stack of chairs is collapsing. I knew I should never have moved-

“Jesus Christ!” Ed rushes forward as I tumble down. He doesn’t exactly catch me in his arms so much as break my fall with his head.

“Ow!”

“Oof!” I crash to the floor. Ed grabs my hand and helps me to my feet, then rubs his chest with a wince. I think I kicked it by mistake on the way down.

“Sorry.”

“What are you doing?” He stares at me incredulously. “Is something wrong?”

I shoot an agonized glance at the door to the banquet room. Following my gaze, he goes and shuts it. “What’s up?” he says more gently.

“I can’t do magic,” I mumble, staring at my feet.

“What?”

“I can’t do magic!” I look up in desperation.

Ed eyes me uncertainly. “But… you did it.”

“I know. But I can’t do it anymore.”

Ed surveys me silently for a few seconds, his eyes flickering as they meet mine. He looks deadly grave, as if some massive worldwide company is facing collapse and he’s working out a master plan to save it.

At the same time, he quite looks like he wants to laugh.

“You’re saying your mysterious Eastern mind-reading powers have deserted you,” he says at last.

“Yes,” I say in a small voice.

“Any idea why?”

“No.” I scuff my toe, not wanting to look at him.

“Well. Just go out there and tell everybody.”

“I can’t!” I wail in horror. “Everyone will think I’m a flake. I’ve been The Great Lara. I can’t just go and say, ‘Sorry, I can’t do it anymore.’”

“Sure you can.”

“No.” I shake my head firmly. “No way. I have to go. I have to escape.”

I start heading toward the fire exit again, but Ed grabs my arm.

“No escaping,” he says firmly. “No running away. Turn the situation around. You can do it. C’mon.”

“But how?” I say hopelessly.

“Play with them. Make it an entertainment. So you can’t read their thoughts-you can make them laugh. And then we leave, right away, and you’re still The Great Lara in everyone’s mind.” His gaze bores firmly into mine. “If you run away now, you really will be The Great Flake.”

He’s right. I don’t want him to be right, but he is.

“OK,” I say at last. “I’ll do it.”

“D’you need some more time?”

“No. I’ve had enough time. I just want to get it over with. And then we go?”

“Then we go. Deal.” A tiny grin pops through again. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” That’s two smiles , I want to add. (But don’t.)

Ed strides through the door and I follow him, somehow managing to hold my head high. There’s a buzz of chatter, which dies down as I appear, and turns to a roar of applause. I can hear wolf whistles from the back, and someone’s even videoing me on their phone. I’ve been out so long, they obviously think I’ve been building up to some amazing finale.

The five victims are sitting on chairs, each holding a piece of paper and a pen. I smile at them, then look at the crowd.

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