Twenties Girl

SIXTEEN

Tonight is turning out to be one of the best evenings of my life. The dinner is delicious. Ed’s speech goes down fantastically. Afterward, people keep coming over to congratulate him, and he introduces me to everyone. I’ve given out all my business cards and set up two meetings for next week, and Clare Fortescue’s friend has just come over to ask discreetly if there’s anything I can do for her.

I’m euphoric. Finally I feel like I’m getting myself on the map!

The only slight pain is Sadie, who’s got bored by business talk and has started on about dancing again. She’s been out exploring, and according to her there’s some tiny nightclub down the street which is perfect and we have to go there immediately.

“No!” I mutter, as she pesters me yet again. “Shh! The magician’s doing another trick!”

As we all sip our coffee, a magician is doing the rounds of the tables. He’s just pushed a bottle of wine through the table, which was quite amazing. Now he’s asking Ed to choose a shape on a card and saying he’ll mind read it.

“OK,” says Ed, choosing a card. I glance over his shoulder, and it shows a squiggle shape. It was between the squiggle, a square, a triangle, a circle, or a flower.

“Focus on the shape and nothing else.” The magician, who is wearing a jeweled jacket, fake tan, and eyeliner, fixes his gaze firmly on Ed. “Let The Great Firenzo use his mysterious powers and read your mind.”

The magician’s name is The Great Firenzo. He’s mentioned this fact about ninety-five times; plus, all his props have The Great Firenzo written on them in big swirly red writing.

There’s a hush around the table. The Great Firenzo takes both hands up to his head, as though in a trance.

“I am communing with your mind,” he says, his voice low and mysterious. “The message is coming in. You have chosen… this shape!” With a flourish, he produces a card which exactly matches Ed’s.

“Correct.” Ed nods and shows his card to the table.

“Amazing!” gasps a blond woman opposite.

“Pretty impressive.” Ed is turning his own card over, examining it. “There’s no way he could have seen what I picked.”

“It’s the power of the mind,” intones the magician, swiftly collecting the card from Ed. “It’s the power of… The Great Firenzo!”

“Do it to me!” begs the blond woman excitedly. “Read my mind!”

“Very well.” The Great Firenzo turns to face her. “But beware. When you open your mind to me, I can read all your secrets. Every deepest, darkest one.” His eyes flash and she giggles.

She totally fancies The Great Firenzo, it’s obvious. She’s probably beaming her deepest, darkest secrets at him right now.

“I find the ladies’ minds are often easier to … penetrate.” The Great Firenzo raises an eyebrow suggestively. “They are weaker, softer… but more delightful within.” He grins toothily at the blond woman, who gives an embarrassed laugh.

Ugh. He’s revolting. I glance at Ed, who has an expression of distaste on his face.

We all watch as the blond woman picks a card, studies it for a moment, then says decidedly, “I’ve chosen.”

“It’s the triangle,” says Sadie, with interest. She’s bobbing behind the back of the blond woman, looking down at the card. “I thought she’d choose the flower.”

“Relax.” The Great Firenzo is focusing intently on the blond woman. “Years of study in the East have made me attuned to the thought waves of the human mind. Only The Great Firenzo can penetrate the brain to such a degree. Do not resist, sweet lady. Let Firenzo probe your thoughts. I promise…” He gives the toothy smile again. “I’ll be gentle.”

Eeuuww. He thinks he’s so hot, but he’s a total sleazeball. and sexist.

“Only The Great Firenzo has such powers,” he says dramatically, looking around the table at us all. “Only The Great Firenzo can achieve such a feat. Only The Great Firenzo can-”

“Actually, I can too,” I say brightly. I’ll show him who’s got a weaker mind.

“What?” The Great Firenzo shoots me a look of dislike.

“I can commune with the mind too. I know what card she chose.”

“Please, young lady.” The Great Firenzo gives me a savage smile. “Do not interrupt the work of The Great Firenzo.”

“I’m just saying.” I shrug. “I know what it is.”

“No, you don’t,” says the blond woman, a little aggressively. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re spoiling it for everyone. Has she had too much to drink?” She turns to Ed.

What a nerve.

“I do know!” I say indignantly. “I’ll draw it if you like. Does anyone have a pen?” A nearby man holds out a pen, and I start drawing on my napkin.

“Lara,” says Ed in a low voice. “What exactly are you doing?”

“Magic,” I say confidently. I finish my triangle and thrust the napkin at the blond woman. “Is that right?”

The blond woman’s jaw drops. She looks incredulously at me, then down at the napkin again.

“She’s right.” She turns her card over and there’s a gasp around the table. “How did you do that?”

“I told you, I can do magic. I, too, have mysterious powers granted to me from the East. They call me The Great Lara.” I catch Sadie’s eye and she smirks.

“Are you a member of the Magic Circle?” The Great Firenzo looks livid. “Because our protocol states-”

“I’m not in any circle,” I say in a pleasant tone. “But my mind’s pretty strong, I think you’ll find. For a lady.”

The Great Firenzo looks totally put out and starts gathering his props.

I glance over at Ed, who raises his dark eyebrows. “Very impressive. How d’you do that?”

“Magic.” I shrug innocently. “I told you.”

“The Great Lara, huh?”

“Yes. That’s what my disciples call me. But you can call me Greatie for short.”

“Greatie.” His mouth is twitching, and I see a smile pop out at one corner. A real, genuine smile.

“Oh my God!” I point at him in triumph. “You smiled! Mr. American Frown actually smiled!”

Oops. Maybe I have had too much to drink. I didn’t mean to call him Mr. American Frown out loud. For an instant Ed looks a bit taken aback-then he shrugs, as deadpan as ever.

“Must have been a mistake. I’ll speak to someone about it. Won’t happen again.”

“Well, good. Because you could do your face an injury, just smiling like that.”

Ed doesn’t reply, and for a moment I wonder whether I’ve gone too far. He does seem quite sweet. I don’t want to offend him.

Suddenly I hear a pompous-looking guy in a white tuxedo holding forth to his friend. “It’s simply a balance of probabilities, nothing more. Any one of us could work out the likelihood of picking the triangle, with a bit of practice-”

“No, you couldn’t!” I interrupt him indignantly. “OK, I’ll do another trick. Write down anything. Anything. Like, a shape, a name, a number. I’ll read your mind and tell you what you wrote.”

“Very well.” The man gives a little raised-eyebrows smile around the table, as though to say, “I’ll indulge her,” and takes a pen out of his pocket. “I’ll use my napkin.”

He lowers his napkin onto his lap so it’s completely out of view. I glance meaningfully at Sadie, who immediately hovers behind his back and leans forward to watch.

“He’s writing down… Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness.” She makes a face. “Dreadful handwriting.”

“All right.” The pompous man looks up. “Tell me what shape I’ve drawn.”

Oh, very sneaky.

I smile sweetly back and lift my hands toward him, just like The Great Firenzo did.

“The Great Lara will now read your mind. A shape, you say. Hmm… What shape could it be? Circle… square… I’m getting a square…”

The pompous man is exchanging smug smiles with the guy next to him. He thinks he’s so clever.

“Open your mind, sir!” I shake my head reproachfully at him. “Get rid of those thoughts saying I’m better than everyone at this table! They’re blocking me!”

The man’s face has turned red.

“Really-” he begins.

“I have it.” I cut him off firmly. “I have read your mind, and you did not draw a shape. No one can fool The Great Lara. On your napkin is written…” I pause, wishing I had a drum roll. “Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness. Show the table your napkin, please.”

Ha! The pompous man looks like he swallowed a fish. Slowly, he holds up the napkin, and there’s a massive gasp, followed by applause.

“Fucking hell,” says his neighbor bluntly. “How did you do that?” He appeals to the table. “There’s no way she could have known that.”

“It’s a trick,” the pompous man is saying, but he’s sounding less convinced.

“Do it again! Do it to someone else!” A man opposite is beckoning to the next table. “Hey, Neil, you have to see this. What’s your name again?”

“Lara,” I say proudly. “Lara Lington.”

“Where did you train?” The Great Firenzo is by my side, breathing heavily as he murmurs in my ear. “Who taught you that?”

“No one,” I say. “I told you, I have special powers. Female powers,” I can’t help adding. “Which means they’re especially strong.”

“Fine,” he snaps. “Forget it. I’m speaking to the union about you.”

“Lara, let’s go.” Sadie has appeared on my other side and is stroking Ed’s chest with her hand. “I want to dance. Come on!”

“Just do a few more tricks,” I mutter under my breath as guests start gathering around the table to watch. “Look at all these people! I can talk to them, give out my cards, make a few contacts-”

“I don’t care about your contacts!” She pouts. “I want to shake my booty!”

“A couple more.” I speak sidelong under camouflage of my wineglass. “Then we’ll go. Promise.”

But I’m in such demand that before I know it, nearly an hour has whizzed by. Everyone wants to have their mind read. Everyone in the room knows my name! The Great Firenzo has packed up and gone. I feel a bit bad about him, but then, he shouldn’t have been so obnoxious, should he?

Several tables have been pushed aside, chairs have been dragged forward, and an audience has assembled. By now I’ve refined my act so that I go off into a little side room, and the person writes down whatever it is and shows the whole audience. Then I come back in and guess. So far I’ve had names, dates, Bible verses, and a drawing of Homer Simpson. (Sadie described it to me. Luckily I got it.)

“And now.” I look impressively around the little crowd. “The Great Lara will perform a yet more astounding feat. I will read… five minds at once!”

There’s a satisfying gasp and spatter of applause.

“Me!” A girl rushes forward. “Me!”

“And me!” Another girl is scrambling over the chairs.

“Sit on that chair.” I gesture with a flourish. “The Great Lara will now retire and then return to read your mind!”

There’s a round of applause and a few cheers, and I beam modestly. I head off into the side room and take a swig of water. My face is glowing and I’m totally wired. This is fantastic! We should do it full-time!

“All right,” I say as soon as the door closes. “We’ll do them in order; it should be quite easy-” I break off in surprise. Sadie has planted herself right in front of me.

“When are we going to leave?” she demands. “I want to dance. This is my date.”

“I know.” I’m redoing my lip gloss quickly. “And we will.”

“When?”

“Sadie, come on. This is so much fun. Everyone’s having a brilliant time. You can dance anytime!”

“I can’t dance anytime!” Her voice rises in fury. “Who’s being selfish now? I want to go! Now!”

“We will! I promise. One more trick-”

“No! I’ve had enough of helping you! You’re on your own.”

“Sa-” I stop dead as she disappears before my eyes. “Sadie, don’t joke.” I wheel around, but there’s no answer or sight of her. “OK, very funny. Come back.”

Great. She’s in a huff.

“Sadie.” I adopt a humbler tone. “I’m sorry. I can understand you’re annoyed. Please come back and let’s talk about it.”

There’s no response. The little room is dead. I look around, feeling a bit more alarmed.

She can’t have gone.

I mean, she can’t have just left me.

I jump as there’s a knock at the door and Ed comes in. Ed’s turned into my unofficial assistant. He’s been marshaling the requests and handing out pens and paper.

“Five minds at once, huh?” he says as he enters.

“Oh.” I hastily plaster on a smile. “Er… yes! Why not?”

“There’s quite a crowd out there. All the people who were in the bar have come in to watch. Standing room only.” He gestures at the door. “Ready?”

“No!” Instinctively I back away. “I mean, I might take a moment first. I need to get my head straight. Have a breather.”

“I’m not surprised. Must take a lot of concentration.” Ed leans against the door frame and surveys me for a moment. “I’ve been watching you as hard as I can, but I still can’t figure it out. However you do it… it’s awesome.”

“Oh. Er… thanks.”

“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.

“Ladies and gentlemen, forgive my leave of absence. I have been opening my mind to a number of thought waves tonight. And quite frankly… I’m shocked at what I’ve discovered. Shocked! You.” I wheel around to the first girl, who’s holding her piece of paper close to her chest. “Obviously I know what you’ve drawn.” I make a brushing-aside gesture, as though what she’s drawn is neither here nor there. “But far more interesting is the fact that there’s a man in your office who you think is rather delicious. Don’t deny it!”

The girl flushes, and her reply is drowned by a roar of laughter. “It’s Blakey!” someone yells, and there’s more laughter.

“You, sir!” I turn to a cropped-haired guy. “They say most men think about sex once every thirty seconds, but with you it’s far, far more frequent than that.” There are gales of laughter, and I hastily turn to the next man. “Whereas you, sir, think about money every thirty seconds.”

The man bursts into laughter. “She is a bloody mind reader!” he calls out.

“Your thoughts were unfortunately too steeped in alcohol for me to make out.” I smile kindly at the portly guy sitting on the fourth chair. “And as for you…” I pause as I face the girl on the fifth chair. “I suggest you never, ever tell your mother what you were just thinking.” I raise my eyebrows teasingly, but she doesn’t rise.

“What?” She frowns. “What are you talking about?”

Shit.

“You know.” I force myself to hold my smile steady. “You know…”

“No.” She shakes her head stolidly. “I’ve got no idea what you’re on about.”

The audience’s chatter has died away. Faces are turned to us with interest.

“Do I have to spell it out?” My smile is becoming forced. “Those… thoughts? Those particular thoughts you were just having…” I’m nearing the end of my rope here. “Just now…”

Suddenly her face snaps in horror. “Oh God. That. You’re right.”

Somehow I manage not to expire with relief.

“The Great Lara is always right!” I make an elaborate bow. “Farewell, and see you all again.”

I head quickly through the applauding audience toward Ed.

“I got your bag,” he murmurs above the clapping. “One more bow, then we’re out.”

I don’t breathe until we’re safely out on the street. The air is clear and there’s a warmish breeze. The hotel doorman is surrounded by groups of people waiting for taxis, but I don’t want to risk anyone from the dinner catching up with me, so I hastily walk down onto the pavement.

“Well done, Greatie,” says Ed as we fall into step.

“Thanks.”

“Shame about the magic powers.” He’s looking at me inquiringly, but I pretend not to notice.

“Yes, well.” I shrug casually. “They come, they go, that’s the mystery of the East. Now, if we walk this way”-I squint at a street sign-“we should be able to pick up a taxi.”

“I’m in your hands,” says Ed. “I don’t know this area.”

This not-knowing-London is really starting to annoy me.

“Is there any area you do know?”

“I know my route to work.” Ed shrugs. “I know the park opposite my building. I know the way to Whole Foods.”

OK, I’ve had it. How dare he come to this great city and show zero interest in it?

“Don’t you think that’s really narrow-minded and arrogant?” I stop dead. “Don’t you think if you come and live in a city you should respect it enough to get to know it? London is one of the most fascinating, historic, amazing cities in the world! And bloody Whole Foods! That’s an American shop! Couldn’t you try Waitrose?” My voice rises. “I mean, why did you take a job here if you weren’t interested in the place? What were you planning to do?”

“I was planning to explore it with my fiancée,” Ed says calmly.

His answer slightly takes the wind out of my sails.

Fiancée. What fiancée?

“Until she broke up with me, a week before we were supposed to come,” Ed continues conversationally. “She asked her company to transfer her London placement to someone else. So, you see, I had a dilemma. Come to England, stay focused, and do the best I could, or stay in Boston, knowing I’d see her almost every day. She worked in the same building as me.” He pauses a second before adding, “And her lover.”

“Oh.” I stare at him in dismay. “I’m sorry. I… didn’t realize.”

“No problem.”

His face is so impassive, it almost seems like he doesn’t care-but I’m getting to understand his deadpan style. He does care, of course he does. Suddenly his frown is making more sense. And that closed-up expression. And that weary voice he had in the restaurant. God, what a bitch his fiancée must be. I can see her now. Big white American teeth and swingy hair and killer heels. I bet he bought her a massive ring. I bet she’s kept it.

“That must have been horrible,” I say feebly as we start walking again.

“I had the guidebooks.” He’s gazing resolutely ahead. “I had the itineraries. I had a million projects planned. Stratford-upon-Avon… Scotland… Oxford… But they were all planned with Corinne. Kind of takes the fun out of it.”

A vision comes to me of a pile of guidebooks, all scribbled and annotated with their exciting plans. And then shut away. I feel so sorry for him, I think I should probably shut up now and stop giving him a hard time. But some stronger instinct makes me push on.

“So you just go your route to work and back again every day,” I say. “You never look left or right. You go to Whole Foods and the park and back again and that’s it.”

“Works for me.”

“How long have you been over here again?”

“Five months.”

“Five months?” I echo in horror. “No. You can’t exist like that. You can’t lead your life in tunnel vision. You have to open your eyes and look around. You have to move on.”

“Move on,” he echoes, in mock-amazed tones. “Wow. Right. Not a phrase anyone’s said to me much.”

OK, so obviously I’m not the only one who’s given him a pep talk. Well, too bad.

“I’ll be gone in two more months,” he adds curtly. “It hardly matters whether I get to know London or not-”

“So, what, you’re just treading water, just existing, waiting until you feel better? Well, you never will! Not unless you do something about it!” All my frustration with him pours out in a stream. “Look at you, doing memos for other people, and emails for your mum, and solving everyone else’s problems because you don’t want to think about your own! Sorry, I overheard you in Pret A Manger,” I add sheepishly as Ed’s head jerks up. “If you’re going to live in a place, doesn’t matter how long, you need to engage with it. Otherwise you’re not really living. You’re just functioning. I bet you haven’t even unpacked properly, have you?”

“As it happens…” He pauses for a few steps. “My housekeeper unpacked for me.”

“There you go.” I shrug, and we walk on a little more in silence, our footsteps almost in time. “People break up,” I say at last. “It’s just the way things are. And you can’t dwell on what might have been. You have to look at what is.”

As I’m saying the words, I have a weird flash of déjà vu. I think Dad said something to me like this once about Josh. In fact, he might even have used those exact words.

But that was different. I mean, obviously it’s an entirely different scenario. Josh and I weren’t planning a trip, were we? Or to move cities. And now we’re back together again. Totally different.

“Life is like an escalator,” I add wisely.

When Dad says that to me, I get all annoyed because he just doesn’t understand. But somehow it’s different when I’m giving advice.

“An escalator,” echoes Ed. “Thought it was a box of chocolates.”

“No, definitely an escalator. You see, it carries you on regardless.” I mime an escalator. “And you might as well enjoy the view and seize every opportunity while you’re passing. Otherwise it’ll be too late. That’s what my dad told me when I broke up with this… this guy.”

Ed walks on a few paces. “And did you take his advice?”

“Er… well…” I brush my hair back, avoiding his eye. “Kind of.”

Ed stops and looks at me gravely. “Did you ‘move on’? Did you find it easy? Because I sure as hell haven’t.”

I clear my throat, playing for time. What I did isn’t really the point here, surely?

“You know, there are lots of definitions of ‘move on.’” I try to maintain my wise tone. “Many different variations. Everyone has to move on in their own way.”

I’m not sure I want to get into this conversation, actually. Maybe now is the moment to find a cab.

“Taxi!” I wave my hand at a passing cab, but it sails past, even though its light is on. I hate when they do that.

“Let me.” Ed approaches the curb, and I take out my mobile phone. There’s a pretty good minicab company that I use. Maybe they could come and pick us up. I retreat into a doorway, dial the number, and wait on hold, before I eventually discover that all the cabs are out tonight and it’ll be a half-hour wait.

“No good.” I come out of the doorway to see Ed standing stock still on the pavement. He’s not even trying to hail a cab. “No luck?” I say in surprise.

“Lara.” He turns to me. His face is confused and his eyes are a little glassy. Has he been taking drugs or something? “I think we should go dancing.”

“What?” I peer at him, perplexed.

“I think we should go dancing.” He nods. “It would be a perfect way to round off the evening. It just came to me out of the blue.”

I don’t believe it. Sadie.

I whirl around on the pavement, searching the darkness, and suddenly spot her, floating by a lamppost.

“You!” I exclaim furiously, but Ed doesn’t even seem to notice.

“There’s a nightclub near here,” he’s saying. “Come on. Let’s have a quick dance. It’s a great idea. I should have thought of it before.”

“How do you know there’s a nightclub here?” I retort. “You don’t know London!”

“Yeah, right.” He nods, looking a bit flummoxed himself. “But I’m pretty sure there’s a nightclub down that street.” He gestures. “Down there, third left. We should go check it out.”

“I’d love to,” I say sweetly. “But I must just make a call. There’s a conversation I need to have.” I direct the words meaningfully at Sadie. “If I don’t have this conversation, I won’t be able to dance.”

Sulkily, Sadie descends to the pavement, and I pretend to punch a number into my phone. I’m so angry with her, I almost don’t know where to start.

“How could you just leave me like that?” I spit in an undertone. “I was completely lost!”

“No, you weren’t! You did very well. I was watching.”

“You were there?”

“I felt rather bad,” says Sadie, looking distantly over my shoulder. “I came back to see if you were all right.”

“Well, thanks a lot,” I say sarcastically. “You really helped. And now what’s all this?” I gesture at Ed.

“I want to dance!” she says with defiance. “I had to take extreme measures.”

“What have you done to him? He looks shell-shocked!”

“I made some… threats,” she says evasively.

“Threats?”

“Don’t look at me like that!” She suddenly rounds on me. “I wouldn’t need to if you weren’t so selfish. I know your career’s important, but I want to go dancing! Proper dancing! You know I do. That’s why we’re here. It’s supposed to be my evening. But you take over and I don’t get a look in! It’s not fair!”

She sounds almost tearful. And suddenly I feel bad. It was supposed to be her evening, and I did kind of hijack it.

“OK. You’re right. Come on, let’s go dancing.”

“Wonderful! We’ll have such a good time. This way…” Her spirits restored, Sadie directs me through some tiny Mayfair streets I’ve never been down before. “Nearly there… Here!”

It’s a tiny place called the Flashlight Dance Club. I’ve never heard of it. Two bouncers are standing outside, looking half asleep, and they let us in, no question.

We descend a set of dim wooden steps and find ourselves in a large room carpeted in red, with chandeliers, a dance floor, a bar, and two guys in leather trousers sitting morosely at the bar. A DJ on a tiny stage is playing some JLo track. No one’s dancing.

Is this the best Sadie could find?

“Listen, Sadie,” I mutter as Ed goes up to the neon-lit bar. “There are better clubs than this. If you really want to dance, we should go somewhere a bit more happening-”

“Hello?” A voice interrupts me. I turn to see a slim, high-cheeked woman in her fifties, wearing a black top and gauze skirt over leggings. Her faded red hair is up in a knot, her eyeliner is crooked, and she looks anxious. “Are you here for the Charleston lesson?”

Charleston lesson?

“I’m so sorry,” the woman continues. “I suddenly remembered we had an arrangement.” She stifles a yawn. “Lara, is it? You’re certainly wearing the right clothes!”

“Excuse me.” I smile, haul out my phone, and turn to Sadie.

“What have you done?” I mutter. “Who’s this?”

“You need lessons,” Sadie says unrepentantly. “This is the teacher. She lives in a little room upstairs. Normally the lessons are during the day.”

I stare at Sadie incredulously. “Did you wake her up?”

“I must have forgotten to put the appointment in my diary,” the woman is saying as I turn back. “It’s not like me-thank goodness I remembered! Out of the blue, it came to me that you would be waiting here.”

“Yes!” I shoot daggers at Sadie. “Amazing, the powers of the human brain.”

“Here’s your drink.” Ed arrives by my side. “Who’s this?”

“I’m your dance instructor, Gaynor.” She holds out her hand and Ed takes it, looking bewildered. “Have you always been interested in the Charleston?”

“The Charleston?” Ed looks mystified.

I feel a bit hysterical. The truth is, Sadie always gets her way. She wants us to dance the Charleston. We’re going to dance the Charleston. I owe it to her. And it might as well be here and now.

“So!” I smile winningly at Ed. “Ready?”

The thing about the Charleston is, it’s more energetic than you realize. And it’s really complicated. And you have to be really coordinated. After an hour, my arms and legs are aching. It’s relentless. It’s worse than my Legs Bums and Tums class. It’s like running a marathon.

“And forward and back…” the dance instructor is chanting. “And swivel those feet…”

I can’t swivel my feet anymore. They’re going to fall off. I keep confusing right and left and bashing Ed in the ear by mistake.

“Charleston… Charleston…” The music is tripping along, filling the club with its peppy beat. The two leather-trousered guys at the bar have been watching in a silent stupor since we started the lesson. Apparently dance lessons are quite common here in the evenings. But everyone wants to learn salsa, according to Gaynor. She hasn’t given a Charleston lesson for about fifteen years. I think she’s quite chuffed we’re here.

“And step and kick… wave your arms… very good!”

I’m waving my hands so hard I’m losing sensation in them. The fringes on my dress are swishing back and forth. Ed is doggedly crossing his hands back and forth over his knees. He shoots me a quick grin as I look at him, but I can tell he’s concentrating too hard to talk. He’s quite deft with his feet, actually. I’m impressed.

I glance over at Sadie, who’s dancing in bliss. She’s amazing. So much better than the teacher. Her legs are twinkling back and forth, she knows a zillion different steps, and she never seems to get out of breath.

Well. She doesn’t have any breath, let’s face it.

“Charleston… Charleston…”

Sadie catches my eyes, grins, and throws back her head in rapture. I guess it’s been a long time since she’s sparkled on the dance floor. I should have done this before. I feel really mean now. We’ll do Charleston dancing every night from now on, I resolve. We’ll do all her favorite twenties things.

The only trouble is, I’ve got a stitch. Panting, I head to the side of the dance floor. What I need to do is to get Ed to dance with Sadie. The two of them alone. Somehow. Then I really will have made her evening.

“OK?” Ed has followed me off.

“Yes. Fine.” I mop my brow with a napkin. “It’s hard work!”

“You’ve done very well!” Gaynor comes over to us and, in a sudden show of emotion, clasps our hands in turn. “You’re very promising, the pair of you! I think you could go far! Shall I see you again next week?”

“Er… maybe.” I don’t quite dare look at Ed. “I’ll call you, shall I?”

“I’ll leave the music on,” she says enthusiastically. “You can practice!”

As she goes, hurrying across the floor with her little dancer steps, I nudge Ed.

“Hey, I want to watch you. Go and dance on your own for a bit.”

“Are you crazy?”

“Go on! Please! You can do that one-two thing with your arms. I want to see how you do it. Please…”

Rolling his eyes good-humoredly, Ed heads out on the floor.

“Sadie!” I hiss, and gesture at Ed. “Quick! Your partner’s waiting!”

Her eyes widen as she realizes what I mean. In half a second she’s out there, facing him, her eyes lit up joyfully

“Yes, I’d love to dance,” I hear her saying. “Thank you so much!”

As Ed starts swinging his legs back and forth, she synchronizes with him perfectly. She looks so happy. She looks so right. Her hands are on his shoulders, her bracelets are glittering under the lights, her headdress is bobbing, the music is fizzing along, it’s like watching an old film-

“That’s enough,” says Ed suddenly with a laugh. “I need a partner.” And to my dismay, he barges right through Sadie, toward me.

I can see the shock on Sadie’s face. As she watches him leave the floor, she looks devastated. I wince, wishing so hard he could see her, that he knew…

“I’m sorry,” I mouth at Sadie as Ed drags me onto the floor. “I’m really sorry.”

We dance awhile longer, then head back to the table. I can’t help feeling exhilarated after all that effort, and Ed seems in pretty good spirits too.

“Ed, do you believe in guardian angels?” I say on impulse. “Or ghosts? Or spirits?”

“No. None of the above. Why?”

I lean forward confidentially. “What if I told you that there’s a guardian angel in this very room who fancies the pants off you?”

Ed gives me a long look. “Is ‘guardian angel’ a euphemism for ‘male prostitute’?”

“No!” I splutter with laughter. “Forget it.”

“I’ve had a good time.” He drains his glass and smiles at me. A full-on, proper smile. Crinkled eyes, uncreased brow, everything! I almost want to shout “Geronimo! We got there!”

“So have I.”

“I didn’t expect to end the evening like this.” He looks around the little club. “But it’s… great!”

“Different.” I nod.

He rips open a bag of peanuts and offers it to me, and I watch him as he crunches them hungrily. Even though he’s looking relaxed, the frown lines are still faintly etched on his brow.

Well, no wonder. He’s had a lot to frown about. I can’t help feeling a rush of pity for him as I think about it. Losing his fiancée. Coming to work in a strange city. Just getting through life, week after week, without enjoying it. It was probably really good for him to come dancing. It was probably the most fun he’s had in months.

“Ed,” I say on impulse. “Let me take you sightseeing. You should see London. It’s criminal that you haven’t. I’ll show you around. At the weekend sometime?”

“I’d like that.” He seems genuinely touched. “Thanks.”

“No problem! Let’s email.” We smile at each other, and I drain my sidecar with a slight shudder. (Sadie made me order it. Totally revolting.)

Ed glances at his watch. “So, are you ready to go?”

I glance over at the dance floor. Sadie’s still going strong, flinging her arms and legs around with no sign of flagging. No wonder all the girls in the twenties were so skinny.

“Let’s go.” I nod. Sadie can catch up with us when she’s ready.

We head out into the Mayfair night. The street lanterns are on, mist is rising from the pavements, and nobody’s about. We head to the corner and after a few minutes flag down a couple of cabs. I’m starting to shiver, in my skimpy dress and threadbare cloak. Ed ushers me into the first taxi, then pauses, holding the door open.

“Thanks, Lara,” he says in that formal preppy way he has. I’m actually starting to find it quite endearing. “I had a good time. It was… quite a night.”

“Wasn’t it!” I adjust my diamanté cap, which has fallen lopsided with all the dancing, and Ed’s mouth twitches with amusement.

“So, should I wear my spats for sightseeing?”

“Definitely.” I smile. “And a top hat.”

Ed laughs. I think it’s the first time I’ve ever heard him laugh. “Good night, twenties girl.”

“Good night.” I close the door and the taxi roars off.