Twenties Girl - Kinsella Sophie (читать книги бесплатно полностью без регистрации сокращений TXT) 📗

“Goodness!” Sadie appears, perched above the dishwasher. “What’s wrong?”

“You know what’s wrong.” I haul my tea bag out roughly and dump it in the bin. “I want to get him.”

Sadie opens her eyes wider. “I didn’t realize you were so steamed up.”

“I wasn’t. But I am now. I’ve had enough.” I slosh milk into my tea and dump the carton back in the fridge. “I know you’re being all magnanimous, but I don’t see how you can do it. I just want to… to punch him. Every time I pass a Lingtons coffee shop, I see a great big rack with Two Little Coins for sale. I want to rush in and yell, ‘Stop it, everybody! It wasn’t two little coins! It was my great-aunt’s fortune!’” I sigh and take a sip of tea. Then I look up at Sadie curiously. “Don’t you want to get back at him? You must be a total saint.”

“Saint is probably a little strong…” She smoothes back her hair.

“It’s not. You’re amazing.” I cradle the mug. “The way you just keep moving forward. The way you don’t dwell on stuff. The way you look at the big picture.”

“Keep moving onward,” she says simply. “That’s always been my way.”

“Well, I really admire you. If it were me, I’d want to … trash him.”

“I could trash him.” She shrugs. “I could go to the south of France and make his life a misery. But would I be a better person?” She hits her slim chest. “Would I feel better inside?”

“The south of France?” I stare at her, puzzled. “What do you mean, the south of France?”

Sadie immediately looks shifty. “I’m… guessing. It’s the kind of place he would be. It’s the kind of place wealthy people go.”

Why is she avoiding my eye?

“Oh my God.” I gasp as it suddenly hits me. “You know where he is, don’t you? Sadie!” I exclaim as she starts to fade away. “Don’t you dare disappear!”

“All right.” She comes back into view, looking a little sulky. “Yes. I do know where he is. I went to his office. It was very easy to find out.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because…” She gives a distant, noncommittal shrug.

“Because you didn’t want to admit that you’re just as mean and vengeful as me! Come on. What did you do to him? You might as well tell me now.”

“I did nothing!” she says haughtily. “Or at least… nothing much. I just wanted to have a look at him. He’s very, very rich, isn’t he?”

“Incredibly.” I nod. “Why?”

“He seems to own an entire beach. That’s where I came across him. He was lying on a bed in the sun, covered in oil, with several servants nearby cooking food for him. He looked terribly self-satisfied.” A rictus of distaste passes across her face.

“Didn’t you want to yell at him? Didn’t you want to have a go at him?”

“Actually… I did yell at him,” she says after a pause. “I couldn’t help myself. I felt so angry.”

“That’s good! You should yell. What did you say?”

I’m utterly agog. I can’t believe Sadie has gone and confronted Uncle Bill on his private beach, all on her own. To be honest, I feel a bit hurt that she left me out. But then, I guess she has the right to seek revenge in any way she wants. And I’m glad she let him have it. I hope he heard every word.

“Come on, what did you say?” I persist. “Tell me word for word, starting at the beginning.”

“I told him he was fat,” she says with satisfaction.

For a moment I think I must have heard wrong.

“You told him he was fat?” I stare at her incredulously. “That was it? That was your revenge?”

“It’s the perfect revenge!” retorts Sadie. “He looked very unhappy. He’s a terribly vain man, you know.”

“Well, I think we can do better than that,” I say decisively, putting my mug down. “Here’s the plan, Sadie. You’re going to tell me where I need to book a flight to. And we’re going to get on a plane tomorrow. And you’re going to take me to where he is. OK?”

“OK.” Her eyes suddenly brighten. “It’ll be like a holiday!”

Sadie has taken the holiday theme seriously. A little too seriously, if you ask me. She’s dressed for our trip in a backless flowing outfit made out of orange silky stuff, which she calls “beach pajamas.” She has on a massive straw hat, is clutching a parasol and a wicker basket, and keeps humming some song about being “sur la plage.” She’s in such a chipper mood I almost want to snap at her that this is serious business and can she please stop twirling the ribbons on her hat? But then, it’s OK for her. She’s already seen Uncle Bill. She’s yelled at him. She’s released her tension. I’ve still got mine, coiled up inside me. I haven’t mellowed. I haven’t got distance. I want him to pay. I want him to suffer. I want him to-

“More champagne?” A smiling air hostess appears at my side.

“Oh.” I hesitate, then hold out my glass. “Er… OK, then. Thanks.”

Traveling with Sadie is an experience unlike any other. She shrieked at the passengers at the airport and we found ourselves ushered to the head of the queue. Then she shrieked at the check-in girl and I found myself upgraded. And now the hostesses keep plying me with champagne! (Mind you, I’m not sure if that’s because of Sadie or because of being in a posh seat.)

“Isn’t this fun?” Sadie slides into the seat next to me and eyes my champagne longingly.

“Yeah, great,” I murmur, pretending to be talking into a Dictaphone.

“How’s Ed?” She manages to get about ten insinuating tones into one syllable.

“Fine, thanks,” I say lightly. “He thinks I’m having a reunion with an old school friend.”

“You know he’s told his mother about you.”

“What?” I turn toward her. “How do you know?”

“I happened to be passing his office the other night,” Sadie says airily. “So I thought I’d pop in, and he was on the phone. I just happened to catch a few snatches of his conversation.”

“Sadie,” I hiss. “Were you spying on him?”

“He said London was working out really well for him.” Sadie ignores my question. “And then he said he’d met someone who made him glad that Corinne did what she did. He said he couldn’t have imagined it and he hadn’t been looking for it-but it had happened. And his mother told him she was so thrilled and she couldn’t wait to meet you, and he said, ‘Slow down, Mom.’ But he was laughing.”

“Oh. Well… he’s right. We’d better not rush things.” I’m trying to sound all nonchalant, but secretly I have a glow of pleasure inside. Ed told his mother about me!

“And aren’t you glad you didn’t stay with Josh?” Sadie suddenly demands. “Aren’t you glad I saved you from that hideous fate?”

I take a sip of champagne, avoiding her eye, having a slight internal struggle. To be honest, going out with Ed after Josh is like moving onto Duchy Originals super-tasty seeded loaf after plastic white bread. (I don’t mean to be rude about Josh. And I didn’t realize it at the time. But it is. He is. Plastic white bread.)

So really I should be truthful and say, “Yes, Sadie, I’m glad you saved me from that hideous fate.” Except then she’ll become so conceited I won’t be able to stand it.

“Life takes us on different paths,” I say at last, cryptically. “It’s not up to us to evaluate or judge them, merely respect and embrace them.”

“What drivel,” she says contemptuously. “I know I saved you from a hideous fate, and if you can’t even be grateful-” She’s suddenly distracted by the sight out of the window. “Look! We’re nearly there!”

Sure enough, a moment later the seat-belt signs come on and everyone buckles up-apart from Sadie, who is floating around the cabin.

“His mother is quite stylish, you know,” she says conversationally.

“Whose mother?” I’m not following.

“Ed’s, of course. I think you and she would get on well.”

“How do you know?” I say in puzzlement.

“I went to see what she was like, of course,” she says carelessly. “They live outside Boston. Very nice house. She was having a bath. She has a very good figure for a woman of her age-”