Sophie Kinsella - Twenties Girl

“I know the one.” She nods.

“You know the one?” I stare at her stupidly. “You mean… it exists?”

“She had a few lovely bits.” Ginny smiles. “But that was her favorite. She wore it over and over.”

“Right!” I swallow, trying to keep calm. “Could I possibly see it?”

“It’ll be in her box.” Ginny nods again. “If I can get you to fill in a form first… Do you have any ID?”

“Of course.” I scrabble in my bag, my heart racing. I can’t believe it. This was so easy!

As I fill in the form, I keep looking around for Sadie, but she’s nowhere to be seen. Where’s she gone? She’s missing the great moment!

“Here you are.” I thrust the form at Ginny. “So, can I take it away? I’m nearly next of kin…”

“The lawyers said the next of kin weren’t interested in having her personal effects,” says Ginny. “Her nephews, was it? We never saw them.”

“Oh.” I color. “My dad. And my uncle.”

“We’ve been holding on to them in case they changed their minds…” Ginny pushes through a swing door. “But I don’t see why you can’t take them.” She shrugs. “It’s nothing much, to be honest. Apart from the bits of jewelry…” She stops in front of a pin board and gestures fondly at a photo. “Here she is! Here’s our Sadie.”

It’s the same wrinkled old lady from the other photo. She’s wrapped in a pink lacy shawl, and there’s a ribbon in her white candy floss hair. I feel a slight lump in my throat as I gaze at the picture. I just can’t relate this tiny, ancient, folded-up face to Sadie’s proud, elegant profile.

“Her hundred and fifth birthday, that was.” Ginny points to another photo. “You know, she’s our oldest ever resident! She’s had telegrams from the queen!”

A birthday cake is in front of Sadie in this photo, and nurses are crowding into the picture with cups of tea and wide smiles and party hats. As I look at them, I feel a crawling shame. How come we weren’t there? How come she wasn’t surrounded by me and Mum and Dad and everyone?

“I wish I’d been there.” I bite my lip. “I mean… I didn’t realize.”

“It’s difficult.” Ginny smiles at me without reproach, which of course makes me feel a million times worse. “Don’t worry. She was happy enough. And I’m sure you gave her a wonderful send-off.”

I think back to Sadie’s miserable, empty little funeral and feel even worse.

“Er… kind of-Hey!” My attention is suddenly drawn by something in the photograph. “Wait! Is that it?”

“That’s the dragonfly necklace.” Ginny nods easily. “You can have that photo, if you like.”

I take down the photo, light-headed with disbelief. There it is. Just visible, poking out of the folds of Great-Aunt Sadie’s shawl. There are the beads. There’s the rhinestone-studded dragonfly. Just as she described it. It’s real!

“I’m so sorry none of us could make the funeral.” Ginny sighs as we resume walking down the corridor. “We had such staff problems this week. But we toasted her at supper… Here we are! Sadie’s things.”

We’ve arrived at a small storeroom lined with dusty shelves, and she hands me a shoe box. There’s an old metal-backed hairbrush inside, and a couple of old paperbacks. I can see the gleam of beads coiled up at the bottom.

“Is this all ?” I’m taken aback, in spite of myself.

“We didn’t keep her clothes.” Ginny makes an apologetic gesture. “They weren’t really hers, so to speak. I mean, she didn’t choose them.”

“But what about stuff from earlier in her life? What about… furniture? Or mementos?”

Ginny shrugs. “Sorry. I’ve only been here five years, and Sadie was a resident for a long while. I suppose things get broken and lost and not replaced.”

“Right.” Trying to hide my shock, I start unpacking the meager things. Someone lives for 105 years and this is all that’s left? A shoe box?

As I reach the jumble of necklaces and brooches at the bottom, I feel my excitement rising. I untangle all the strings of beads, searching for yellow glass, for a flash of rhinestones, for the dragonfly…

It’s not there.

Ignoring a sudden foreboding, I shake the tangle of beads out properly and lay them straight. There are thirteen necklaces in all. None of them is the right one.

“Ginny. I can’t find the dragonfly necklace.”

“Oh dear!” Ginny peers over my shoulder in concern. “It should be there!” She lifts up another necklace, made from tiny purple beads, and smiles at it fondly. “This was another favorite of hers-”

“I’m really after the dragonfly necklace.” I know I sound agitated. “Could it be anywhere else?”

Ginny looks perplexed. “This is strange. Let’s check with Harriet. She did the clear-out.” I follow her back down the corridor and through a door marked Staff . Inside is a small, cozy room in which three nurses are sitting on old floral armchairs, drinking cups of tea.

“Harriet!” says Ginny to a pink-cheeked girl in glasses. “This is Sadie’s great-niece Lara. She wants that lovely dragonfly necklace that Sadie used to wear. Have you seen it?”

Oh God. Why did she have to put it like that? I sound like some horrible grasping person out of Scrooge.

“I don’t want it for me,” I say hastily. “I want it for… a good cause.”

“It isn’t in Sadie’s box,” Ginny explains. “Do you know where it could be?”

“Is it not?” Harriet looks taken aback. “Well, maybe it wasn’t in the room. Now you mention it, I don’t remember seeing it. I’m sorry, I know I should have taken an inventory. But we cleared that room in a bit of a rush.” She looks up at me defensively. “We’ve been so stretched…”

“Do you have any idea where it could have gone?” I look at them helplessly. “Could it have been put somewhere; could it have been given to one of the other residents…”

“The jumble sale!” pipes up a thin dark-haired nurse sitting in the corner. “It wasn’t sold by mistake at the jumble sale, was it?”

“What jumble sale?” I swivel around to face her.

“It was a fund-raiser, two weekends ago. All the residents and their families donated stuff. There was a bric-a-brac stall with lots of jewelry.”

“No.” I shake my head. “Sadie would never have donated this necklace. It was really special to her.”

“Like I say.” The nurse shrugs. “They were going from room to room. There were boxes of stuff everywhere. Maybe it was collected by mistake.”

She sounds so matter-of-fact, I suddenly feel livid on Sadie’s behalf.

“But that kind of mistake shouldn’t happen! People’s stuff should be safe! Necklaces shouldn’t just disappear!”

“We do have a safe in the cellar,” Ginny puts in anxiously. “We ask residents to keep anything of real value in that. Diamond rings and so forth. If it was valuable, it should really have been locked up.”

“It wasn’t valuable exactly, I don’t think. It was just… important.” I sit down, rubbing my forehead, trying to organize my thoughts. “So can we track it down? Do you know who was at this jumble sale?” Doubtful looks are exchanged around the room, and I sigh. “Don’t tell me. You have no idea.”

“We do!” The dark-haired nurse suddenly puts down her cup of tea. “Have we still got the raffle list?”

“The raffle list!” says Ginny, brightening. “Of course! Everyone who came to the sale bought a raffle ticket,” she explains to me. “They all left their names and addresses in case they won. The star prize was a bottle of Baileys,” she adds proudly. “And we had a Yardley gift set-”

“Do you have the list?” I cut her off. “Can you give it to me?”