Page 23 of Lost Luggage
Dolly shrank back against the swimming-pool edge and shivered. She… she’d thought they’d laugh about Matilda and the stupid man on the date night who kept going on about plumbing, and joking how Pb stood forplumbum. Instead, Phoebe glared at Dolly as if it was her fault she’d lost her luggage. Dolly slid down into the water, wanting to hide herself.
‘How did you steal my luggage?’ Phoebe’s frown deepened. ‘Not having my things ruined my trip to Paris. I especially needed everything in that little compartment and I’ve been so worried about losing Gran’s jewellery. I had to change my flight and come straight home the next day. It was the first challenge I tried and it nearly put me off doing the whole thing. I assumed my case had been lost in transit and the cardboard label had got torn off, or that someone had taken my case by mistake. But it never turned up. I gave up ringing the lost luggage number and left my details. They never rang back. Were you at Charles de Gaulle airport? Did you see me, looking frantic as the baggage carousel went around?’
‘No. I’ve never been abroad.’ Dolly stared at the blue water. She was still getting used to talking to anyone who wasn’t Flo or Leroy, and her words weren’t coming out right with Phoebe.
Phoebe jerked her head towards the ladder. ‘You’ve got ten minutes to hand over my things, before I call the police.’ Her voice shook.
‘But it’s not like that! You see, every December—’
‘Ten minutes,’ she hissed.
Feeling sick, Dolly climbed up the ladder.
‘I’ll be in the reception area, waiting,’ said Phoebe and she sped past, heading for the lockers, having wrapped herself up in a giant towel from the bench.
Dolly fumbled with the locker key and pulled on her clothes without drying off. She didn’t bother with socks and the water dripping down her back as she left the changing room hardly registered. Phoebe stood by the vending machine and stretched out her hand. Dolly passed over the folded Zadorin gilet, with the notebook on top and ring necklace, the bracelet too. Phoebe hugged them to her chest. She stared at Dolly’s feet and an angry shade of red flooded her face.
‘Those too,’ she said in a cold voice. ‘What a sad little life you must lead, poking your nose into someone else’s year plan and wearing their clothes.’ Her top lip curled. ‘You’re pathetic.’
Dolly gave her the trainers with the rose-gold caps and, flip-flops on, walked outside, hand curled tightly around the tea flask in her anorak pocket. Without looking back, she got in the car and drove home.
17
Dolly sat in the lounge, tea flask unopened in her hands. It was late afternoon and the moon crescent was visible. She’d switched the lamp on but hadn’t fed Maurice, nor herself, and twice she’d ignored knocking at the front door. Flo and Leroy had caught her on the way in. She’d mumbled that yes she’d met Phoebe, no they weren’t going to be friends and without answering any more questions had hurried indoors. Carrying out a year of firsts had given structure to the months ahead, but now… Dolly glanced through the window and into the sky again. She’d read once that the universe’s shape was determined by its density. Perhaps that’s why her future looked so shapeless, as without Phoebe’s notebook there was nothing in it.
She was about to turn away when… she jolted. Two faces bobbed up above the windowsill; she could just make them out through the nets. A small hand waved. A large one pointed to the door. With a sigh, Dolly got up. Flo and Leroy stood on the doorstep.
‘Mum and Dad…’ Flo looked sideways at Leroy. He nodded. ‘They took me for a woodland walk in Alderley Edge this morning, said spring was finally here and the outdoors was important, probably for good health, but I like spring for other reasons…’ Flo reached into her pocket and took out a small cardboard box with holes pierced in the top. She opened it to reveal a glossy black beetle. ‘I took this box in case and tempted this beetle in whilst Mum and Dad were looking at their Fitbits. Its back shines like liquorice painted with clear nail varnish. I wanted to keep it for a while, but I’ve had trouble identifying it, so I don’t know what it eats. Lots of beetles on the internet look similar but don’t come out until it’s warmer.’ She let it run over her hand. ‘But now you’ve seen it I can let it go.’ Flo crouched down by Dolly’s front border and said goodbye as it clambered on to the soil.
‘That’s very responsible,’ said Dolly.
‘It’s important to be responsible, isn’t it?’ said Leroy brightly. ‘Like answering the door so that your friends don’t worry and—’
‘I’m hungry after cycling and tea isn’t for ages yet,’ interrupted Flo. ‘Leroy talked about some pink sandwich biscuits you’d bought from IKEA yesterday.’
Leroy stood behind Flo, hands on her shoulders. ‘And I’ve got a thirst on me like you wouldn’t believe, after doing more work on my new lounge.’
Dolly drew the curtains and collapsed on to the sofa once more, doing her best to avoid looking at the octopus plushie. Leroy went to the thermostat on the wall, above Maurice’s tank. He switched the heating on, even though it hadn’t fallen below sixteen degrees. Flo headed into the kitchen and filled the kettle. Maurice darted to and fro, before swimming upwards, near to the tank’s feed hole. Still in her flip-flops, Dolly went over and dropped in a few flakes. Flo came in and handed Dolly a mug. She came back with another for Leroy, who sat in the armchair. Flo put her juice on the table next to Dolly, and gave her the packet of biscuits that had been wedged under her arm. Dolly tore it open and took out two before handing the packet back. Flo sat cross-legged on the floor and asked why Dolly was wearing flip-flops.
As the buttercream filling melted in her mouth, Dolly’s body relaxed. ‘I’ve had a shock but that’s no excuse. I should have answered the door earlier. Without you two this last year… if it hadn’t been for you both…’
‘I think you’re trying to say you love us more than… those doughnuts you bought yesterday,’ said Leroy.
‘More than the ones with squirty jam,’ said Flo.
‘Even those dipped in chocolate,’ added Dolly. She cupped her hands around the hot tea mug and opened up about her disastrous meeting with Phoebe.
‘But you didn’t steal the notebook,’ said Flo and clenched her fists, ‘and your life isn’t sad – I think you’ve been brave taking on those challenges.’
‘She wouldn’t let me explain. It’s strange, she was nice at the speed-dating evening, patted my arm and everything.’
Leroy thought Phoebe sounded nice in the notebook as well, and explained how, the day after Tony ended things, a delivery man had accidentally tried to deliver flowers to his door. Giant daisies. Leroy had slammed the door in his face. When he’d stopped crying he rang up the company to apologise. He’d explained he’d been upset, said that person wasn’t the true him. Dolly wished she’d been there for him the last year. Oh she’d listened when he came around, made him cups of tea, albeit in grubby mugs, but she should have taken him out, distracted him with trips to the cinema and shopping. Instead all she’d been able to think of was herself. Flo had clearly been struggling too, arguing more with her parents – and what could her secret be?
Her universe wasn’t empty at all. She had Leroy, Flo and Maurice to care for.
‘Phoebe might have recently suffered a break-up, like I had, or be facing some other difficulty,’ said Leroy.
Dolly hadn’t thought of that.
