Lost (Arielle Lockley Series Book 2) (9 page)

Why would Felicity do this to me? I know she was mad about Camden, but we got that resolved. She never once mentioned she was sending someone in her place to keep an eye on me which, let’s face it, is what this is.

Tabitha raises an eyebrow as I shake Etta’s hand. ‘Is this OK, Arielle?’

‘Why wouldn’t it be?’ Etta turns to face Tabitha, smiling sweetly as she sticks her hand out for Tabitha. ‘I’m looking after my godmother’s interests. Unless you have something to hide from her, there’s no reason why I shouldn’t be here.’

‘Of course it’s OK,’ I quickly say. ‘Though it would have been nice to know you were joining us.’

Etta raises a perfectly arched black eyebrow. Not a natural redhead then.

‘So we could have let you know about the changed time,’ I hurriedly add.
Jeesh
.

‘Aunt Felicity didn’t mention me then?’

I shake my head.

‘Funny, because
we’ve
heard about
you
a lot,’ she growls at me, turning from sweetness and light to a she-devil in a blink of an eye.

What’s that supposed to mean?

‘It’s been Arielle this, and Arielle that. What my poor mother would have thought, God rest her soul, if she’d been around to see Flick’s become Arielle’s,’ Etta spits out, whilst making the sign of the cross.
The sign of the cross.
‘Well, we’ve all been wanting to meet you for a very long time,’ she finishes ominously.

What do I even say to that? And, does the rebrand of the shop really justify Etta making the sign of the cross? Do Felicity’s family think that I’ve been swindling her somehow? I didn’t even know Felicity had any family, though I guess this explains why Etta looks so familiar.

A frown appears on Etta’s face. ‘Is that ring Felicity’s?’

‘Sorry?’

‘That ring.’ She grabs my left hand to take a closer look at my engagement ring, and digs in her nails ever-so-slightly.
Bitch
.

‘Look, shall we take this over to one of the booths?’ Tabitha asks, as I yank my hand back. Ah, yes, we appear to be blocking the entrance to Tabi’s.

Ryan is still hovering protectively. I guess with Tabitha being in the public eye she often has nutters in here. Etta does look a little bit out there compared to the usual clientele. I feel like a snob saying that, but I am surprised they let her in knowing first-hand what the door policy is like in this place. It’s
brutal
.

‘Of course,’ I say. ‘And no, it’s my engagement ring that my fiancé Piers bought me. From Tiffany’s. Piers and Felicity have never even met,’ I quickly add, before she makes the accusation that
Piers
took the ring from Felicity. It wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest if those were the next words out of her mouth.

I take a deep breath as Etta storms off in front of us, and I share a quick look with Tabitha. This morning’s high has evaporated swiftly. I’m sure this will all go fine with Etta here, it’s just that I’m now doubting myself. Felicity clearly has concerns about our partnership; she no longer trusts me.

As for Etta, she definitely doesn’t trust me one iota. Did she honestly think that I’d steal a ring from Felicity? Or, if Felicity gave me an expensive ring – it would be slightly weird if she did – that I’d take it?

Tabitha merely rolls her eyes in response. ‘Diva,’ she mutters as we make our way over to where Etta is sitting in one of the booths.

She’s pulled off her jumper to reveal a tiny vest top and, all of a sudden, she looks full of painful angles with her newly revealed collarbones and ribs. The tattoos I could see on her arms continue along her chest and disappear towards her back. This girl has a serious problem of some kind, I can’t quite tell whether it’s chemical or an aversion to food.

‘Oh, I do know you!’ I cry out as I sit down, suddenly twigging why this girl is so familiar. ‘You’re that girl I saw perform at Ronnie Scott’s.’

She looked a lot more polished and less like a vagrant that night.

Etta smirks. ‘
And for youuuuuuuuuuuuuu, I’ll come alive
,’ she soulfully sings at us as Tabitha shrugs off her body warmer and sits down next to me.

Wow. No wonder she was annoyed at us not being here at eleven. She was probably singing at some smoky little jazz club until the wee hours. I’d be pretty hacked off if I was a nocturnal creature.

‘You were amazing!’ I gush.

‘Thanks,’ she smugly acknowledges.

There’s no false modesty with this one, and there’s no polite filler from her either whilst Tabitha pulls out her notebooks and calls over for some teas and coffees.

‘Wow, so you’re Felicity’s goddaughter?’

‘Yes, she was best friends with my mum.’

Either Etta’s mum must have been much younger than Felicity, or Etta is much older than her appearance suggests.

Etta, thankfully, takes my encouraging smile as a sign to continue. ‘She was like a big sister to my mum. She actually taught her at Serafina’s.’

A quick glance at me, and I nod. I know most of Felicity’s life story, apart from the part where she obtained a jazz-singing goddaughter.

I bet Serafina schooled relatives of Tabitha’s, thinking about it,
and
I bet Tabitha went to some fancy Swiss finishing school. Piers told me that Giles has already signed Annabelle up to one, and she’s got another twelve years to go before she takes up her place. Competition is
that
fierce. Over my dead body will any of my children go to one. I don’t care what Piers says! 

‘And then they opened a gallery together when Flick got back from La La Land,’ Etta continues.

I thought Felicity was in San Francisco, not Los Angeles, but, OK, there’s clearly a lot I do not know about Felicity Farrell.

‘My brother runs the gallery now,’ she adds.

I’d always wondered what had happened to it. I’m dying to ask if it’s still half Felicity’s, but I suspect Etta already has me down as a gold-digger. I’d hate to encourage that bogus notion of hers any further.

‘I can’t believe I’ve never met you.’

I try to look pleased, but I’m not. I’m so calling Felicity as soon as I get home to see if Etta is legit, and actually who she says she is. How dare she question who I am and insinuate that I’m wearing Felicity’s jewellery. She could quite easily be a random person off the street. It cuts both ways.

‘Well,’ Tabitha says, as she pours the tea that has just arrived and passes the milk to Etta, ‘does anyone want any food, or should we get down to business?’

‘To business.’ Etta answers before I can.

I’m dying for some food, especially one of Tabi’s legendary pulled pork burgers – her menu is full of heavenly American BBQ delights – but it would be churlish to delay this any longer. Etta’s been waiting for us for the past two hours whilst I’ve been trying on wedding dresses, not that we would have kept her waiting if we’d have known she was meeting us...

‘Sure.’ I smile.

‘Fabulous. Well, what I was thinking was we could either have some stalls set up on the dance floor...’

I knew it!

‘Or there’s always my studio upstairs,’ Tabitha continues. ‘I have a space which Ramone uses. It’s all set up with a few sewing machines and mannequins, and it looks more the part. Or, you could use upstairs for storing your stock?’

Ooooh, which would be better? I take a sip of my tea and quickly mull the two choices over in my head. If we–

‘Downstairs.’
That’s not my voice.
‘We want the traffic. If we’re tucked away upstairs, what’s the point? We should–’

‘Upstairs would give it that exclusive and intimate feel,’ I interrupt. ‘Which is what we’re all about. We–’

‘It’s your funeral.’ Etta snorts.

Who does this girl think she is? And what’s with the “we”? This has nothing to do with her, not really.

‘I can see why Aunt Felicity asked me to get involved and protect her interests,’ she continues with a smirk. ‘You clearly have no business sense.’

‘What’s that supposed to be mean?’ I ask angrily.

I think I did bloody well giving the boutique in Bournemouth a new lease of life. Where was Etta to help Felicity out with the shop if she’s the retail genius she seems to be inferring she is?

Why doesn’t she ruddy well just stick to her jazz? She doesn’t have me criticising her song choices or how she presents herself on stage.
I
know when to butt out of someone else’s business.  

‘It’s just that–’

‘Ladies!’ Tabitha interrupts. ‘Maybe we should have a look upstairs before we decide anything – what do you say?’

I nod, as does Etta, but she manages to stand up first as I’m trapped in the booth by Tabitha. I slide out after Tabitha, and stretch my limbs, trying not to appear too keen.

‘It’s over there.’ Tabitha points to a door next to the bar, which has a “Staff Only” sign on it. Etta storms ahead of us.

‘Are you OK?’ Tabitha whispers to me, placing a concerned hand on my arm.

I smile through gritted teeth as my stomach lets out a large rumble. I get the impression we’re in for a long afternoon with this one...

‘Ah yes, dear. Etta told me.’

‘So, Etta’s your niece?’ I fish.

‘Goddaughter.’

Well, I suppose that’s one good thing – that Etta has a genuine connection to Felicity and is not some random stranger who has managed to worm her way into Felicity’s life to take advantage of her. Which is exactly what Etta has
me
pegged as, I’m sure.

The rest of the afternoon at Tabi’s did not go well, with Etta fighting me on everything I said. In the end I started agreeing with every opinion she voiced, then secretly told Tabitha on my way out that we’d arrange another meeting after the weekend, sans Etta, to discuss things properly.

‘I didn’t know you had a goddaughter,’ I say lightly.

Silence.

‘Dear,’ Felicity finally says as the silence on the phone gets too much. ‘Is something wrong? You’ve been quite aggressive since you rang me.’

I did not want to have this conversation on the phone with Felicity, but Piers and I need to be in London this weekend to crack on with wedding planning so it’s left me with very little choice. He’s going back to the States soon, which means he’ll want a lazy weekend when he gets back, and I’m desperate to start looking at venues now my dress is sorted. I’m also desperate to iron out the pop-up details with Tabitha because
I want to make something happen
. This is going to be fabulous, and I have a great feeling about it, but I just need to be left alone to agree things with Tabitha.

‘It’s just, do you not trust me?’ I rush out. ‘It would have been nice if you had warned me that I was going to have to defend every little decision I made, which is what I had to do this afternoon. I spent more time arguing with Etta than sorting anything out with Tabitha. She’s an awesome businesswoman who is doing us a massive favour, but she must have thought I was a complete amateur. We’re no further on than we were this morning,’ I finish angrily. 

Felicity laughs, that tinkling laugh of hers which is infuriating right now. ‘Oh, you know Etta, dear. It’s how she is. She just likes to get a reaction. I tell Jean this often enough, but she’ll grow out of it!’

‘Felicity, I don’t know her at all,’ I say, feeling exasperated. ‘You’ve never once mentioned an Etta to me or, indeed, told me that someone would be showing up to get involved on your behalf. Don’t you trust me? Is that what this is, because of Camden? And,’ I continue, ‘
who is
Jean?’

Do I have to watch out for this Jean person in my next meeting with Tabitha? Will she be butting in with her unwelcome views?

Going into business with Felicity is proving to be a lot more complicated than when I managed her boutique, that’s for sure. I’m finding out that setting up a business is a nightmare, especially when friends are involved.

‘Etta’s mum,’ Felicity answers. ‘Honestly, this is just work experience for her whilst she figures out what she wants to do after her GCSEs. She’s feisty, but you shouldn’t let her influence you. She’s only supposed to be shadowing you at the gallery, and hopefully it will get this singing nonsense out of her head and make her realise that there’s more to life than jazz.’

There is no way that the girl I met yesterday is taking her GCSEs. She looked young, but she didn’t look
that
young, not to mention all that ink she has. Also, Etta mentioned that her mum had died, though
that’s
not the most troubling inclusion in Felicity’s sentence.

‘Felicity,’ I say carefully, ‘it’s Arielle you’re talking to. Are you feeling OK?’

I have to refrain from pointing out that we’re in 2008 and not whatever year Felicity thinks this is. I wonder if Mum can drop in and take her to the doctors. I thought her medication was helping, but this is alarming.

‘Yes, of course I am, dear. It’s
you
I’m worried about.’

I hear the front door close and a few seconds later Piers walks through. The weekend can begin!

I wave at him from my position on the sofa, and he smiles at me. He’s looking ridiculously yummy in his dark navy Paul Smith single-breasted suit, which he’s wearing with a slim-fit white shirt and a burgundy Turnbull & Asher cashmere, silk and wool-blend tie. His recent illness has given his face a far-from-flattering pallor, but he’s still ridiculously handsome.

‘I didn’t realise you wanted Etta to shadow me. Did you tell Etta that?’ I joke, turning my attention back to Felicity on the phone. ‘Only, she was a bit aggressive for someone doing work experience.’

Cruel, but necessary.

‘Dear, what
are
you talking about?’

‘Etta’s role in the business. You said, just a moment ago, that you wanted her to shadow me whilst she figures out what she wants to do after her GCSEs.’

‘Etta’s
twenty-seven
.’ Felicity says this like I’m the one losing my mind.

She’s older than me then – I turn twenty-six next weekend – but she does look much younger, despite her tattoos and the copious amount of eyeliner she likes to wear.

‘I think she’s a little old to be taking her GCSEs,’ Felicity points out. There’s a frightened undertone I can hear in Felicity’s voice, but she tries to laugh it off. ‘Deary me, twenty-seven already! I can’t believe how the time flies.’

‘Felicity,’ I say carefully because I need her to admit she has a problem. ‘Are you OK, and I mean
really
OK? Only you did say that, and you said a gallery. You seem a bit muddled.’

There’s an awful silence and Piers, seeing my face, mouths: ‘Are you OK?’

I nod quickly; I need to focus on Felicity right now. If she can admit her problem, we can get her more help.

‘It’s a little lapse with my medication, that’s all. Nothing to worry about,’ she adds quickly, before I can start grilling her. ‘They just need to rejig my quantities and then I’ll be hunky dory again.’

‘Are you sure?’ I ask gently.

I don’t quite believe her, but it’s going to be difficult to force the truth out of Felicity over the phone. I’d have a hard enough time achieving that if we were face-to-face.

‘Positive, my dear. Look, you sort out everything with Tabitha, and keep me posted. I’ll talk to you later.’

She hangs up before I can answer. I wearily replace the handset on its charger and sit back down on the sofa.

‘Everything OK?’ Piers asks, plonking himself next to me.

‘Maybe ask me later.’ I rub my face wearily. ‘It’s been one of those days, and all I’d like to do right now is cuddle you on the sofa.’

‘Your wish is my command, my lady,’ Piers replies, pulling me towards him.

This is exactly what I need right now. I sigh happily and snuggle deeper into Piers’ body. Well, I need this and a huge glass of white wine.

Later that evening, after we’ve demolished a yummy Japanese takeaway, I can finally talk to Piers about my day. It’s too cold for sushi, which is what Piers chose, but I’ve finally found a decent place that knows how to make a proper chicken katsu curry with not a smidge of watered down or powdery curry sauce in sight. OK, I might have had some sushi, too, but I didn’t get to eat lunch because of the whole Etta nightmare and I was ravenous. 

‘How are you, Pony?’ I ask, taking a sip of my wine. We’re on our second bottle, and I feel deliciously relaxed with Piers by my side and a crackling fire burning brightly in front of us. ‘How was your day?’

Piers pulls a face. ‘You’re not going to like this.’ He reaches over and squeezes my free hand. ‘But I might have to be in the US for your birthday. Might,’ he quickly stresses before I can say anything. ‘So that means might not, remember.’

‘Oh.’

I know he can’t help it if he has to go, but I’ll be disappointed. Because of what happened last year we didn’t spend my birthday together. Piers never even wished me a happy birthday, and I spent the day drowning my sorrows in The Guinea Inn with Ob. Other than a card from my parents, I received no others. It was a tragic birthday; I had hoped that this year it would be memorable for a
nice
reason.

‘I’d ask you to come with me, but I think I’ll have to go to Virginia, not New York or Washington, unless you fancy a trip to Pocahontasville?’

‘Huh?’

‘It’s where Pocahontas is from. I thought you’d know that, you’re up on your Disney films. Right,
Ariel
?’

‘Don’t ever call me that,’ I snarl, leaping up from the sofa and splashing wine over the wooden floor.

I can’t believe Piers, of all people, has called me
that
name. I hate that fucking name and all that it reminds me of,
who
it reminds me of. Bloody Noah Penrose. I bought my wedding dress today. I do not want that cretin in my head, today of all days. Suddenly that katsu curry is sitting heavily in my tummy; I could throw it up.

‘Hey, calm down! It was a joke. Come on, sit back down.’

I’m hovering over Piers, and I can feel myself shaking. ‘I hate that name,’ I quietly say. ‘You know this.’

He puts down his wine glass and holds both his hands up in the air. ‘It was a mistake, Arielle, I forgot. Now, come on, sit back down. I said I was sorry.’

First it was Felicity forgetting things, now it’s Piers.

‘You’re not going to want to go to Virginia now, are you?’ he teases.

I shake my head, and reluctantly sit back down. He tries to pull me closer to him, but I’m sat like a statue. That relaxed feeling I had ten minutes ago has vanished.

‘I love you, silly,’ he says. ‘Please don’t let this spoil our weekend.’

‘Sure,’ I offer out.

‘So, what did you want to talk to me about?’

‘Oh, it doesn’t matter.’ I pick up the remote control, and switch the TV on. ‘Shall we find a film to watch?’

I do not want to talk to this man tonight. I know it’s silly, one slip of the tongue and I’ve lost it, but it was a stab of pain to my heart hearing that name come from Piers’ mouth. I know it’s just a name, one little word, and I know that I’m the one letting it affect me. I need to learn to rise about this, not let it impact me, but it hurts.

It hurts not because I harbour any feelings for Noah Penrose – those were well and truly squashed for good last year – but because... I don’t know why. It’s irrational, and it’s stupid, and I need to get over this. It was just too much hearing it today with everything else that has gone on.

‘Of course we can.’

I bring up the TV schedule on the screen, and start flicking through the listings. ‘Shout if you see something you want to watch.’

We don’t talk much more for the rest of the night after settling on
Atonement
; when we go to bed it’s to sleep, our backs turned away from one another.