Twenties Girl 68
“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.