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The Party Crasher(95)

Author:Sophie Kinsella

“Humph, you didn’t admire me,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“I did,” he insists. “I always did.” A strange sort of flicker passes over his face before he adds, “So, you’re with Joe again now?”

“Yes.” I can’t help smiling happily. “I’m with Joe.”

“Huh.” He nods several times. “I mean…yes. Makes sense. Absolutely.”

“And you’re…with Lacey?” I venture.

“Oh, I can’t afford Lacey,” he says frankly. “She’ll find out soon enough, but I’m hoping she’ll get me to hospital first.”

I’d forgotten that Humph can be quite funny and self-deprecating. I painted him in a really negative way in my mind over the years—but that picture wasn’t quite true. Maybe I did it so I wouldn’t feel bad about the way I treated him.

“Sorry,” I say impulsively.

“For what?”

“Humph, I was dreadful to you. Back then.”

“Sorry too,” he says, shrugging. “I realize now I was a really bad kisser. I’ve improved.”

I can’t help laughing again and he grins back, and I decide I will definitely get him out for a drink sometime.

“Well, see you,” I say, and touch him a little awkwardly on the arm.

“See you.” He glances up at the house. “Good times.”

I nod. “Good times.”

There’s a moment of silence—then I lift my chin firmly and walk into Greenoaks. Effie Talbot is in the house.

* * *

As I walk through the quiet hall, I feel hollow with nerves. I don’t know what I’m going to say to Dad. My thoughts are like Formula 1 cars, screeching round and round my brain.

Then Dad’s office door opens. He sees me and both of us freeze dead.

“Effie,” he says at last, looking as wary as I feel.

“Dad,” I reply, my voice strangled. “I thought…maybe we should talk?”

“Come in.” He nods at his office as though I’m here for a job interview, and, feeling a bit unreal, I head in. It’s still the room I remember: his old desk, his computer screens, his chessboard set up by the fireplace. Dad and I used to play chess, I remember with a twinge. After Bean and Gus had left for uni and it was just me living at home. I’d come in here after I’d done my homework. Dad would be drinking a G&T. We’d play a few moves, then leave the board for next time.

I look up, to see that Dad is gazing at me ruefully.

“I thought you weren’t coming to the party,” he says. “But I’m so glad you changed your mind, Effie. Even if your entrance was on the dramatic side. Please don’t ever skydive into a party again, darling, or I’ll be the one going to A&E, with a heart attack.”

He sounds as though he’s trying to make me laugh, and I try to smile, but it doesn’t quite work. There’s too much hurt swilling around the room. Or am I the only one who can feel it?

“Dad…” I pause, as possible openers fill my head. I’ve been so upset. I’ve felt so shut out. Why did you ignore my messages? But instead of any of them, I hear myself saying, “Dad, we’re worried about you.”

“Worried?” Dad stares at me, as though confused. “Worried?”

“We all are. Me, Gus, Bean…” I take a step forward, suddenly desperate to express my fears. “Dad, how well do you know Krista? What’s her background? Because she’s got an agenda, she really has. She was secretly pricing up the furniture with Lacey. We heard her. And did you know she targeted you before you met? Mike Woodson told Gus.”

“Mike Woodson?” Dad seems staggered. “Mike Woodson’s been discussing me?”

“Everyone’s worried!” My words tumble out in a fervent rush. “People are just looking out for you!”

“Well, they needn’t, thanks very much,” begins Dad tightly, but I’m not having him brush me off again.

“Please listen,” I say urgently. “Please. Krista was asking people about you at the Holyhead Arms, but then she pretended she just met you by chance. She lied, Dad! She’s after money! She’s already got a great big diamond. You never bought Mimi a great big diamond. And she wants to invest all your money in a restaurant in Portugal and we just feel…we’re so worried—” I break off as I hear the approaching gunfire of Krista’s heels.

Oh God. My heart starts to hammer. Did she hear me? What exactly did she hear? In a way, if she heard me, I’m glad. This has to come out, one way or another.

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