The Party Crasher(34)

  As I lie there, motionless and tense, I’m willing Bean with every cell to speed up, to get ready, to leave the room and let me get on with my mission…

  Then suddenly, with no warning, blows are being rained on me. I’m being hit by something through the duvet. Something hard.

  “You motherfucker!” Bean is bellowing. “You dirty motherfucker! Get out! I’ve already called the police! Get out!”





  I’m so startled, it takes me a moment to react.

  “Stop!” I yell, trying to protect myself, but Bean doesn’t seem to hear. She keeps on thwacking me with…what is that?

  “I’ll tear off your balls!” she’s yelling wildly. “I’ll tear off your balls and feed them to your gerbil! You get out, you motherfucker!”

  “Bean!” I roar, finally managing to throw the duvet aside. “Stop! It’s me! It’s Effie!”

  Bean halts mid-thwack, breathing hard, and I see that she’s been hitting me with a pink-painted coat hanger decorated with daisies. That is so Bean.

  “Effie?” Her voice rockets through the room in astonishment.

  “Shh! You hurt me!” I exclaim reproachfully.

  “I thought you were an intruder!” exclaims Bean, equally reproachful. “Effie, what the hell? What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be on a date!”

      For a few moments there’s silence between us, except for the distant thud and hubbub of the party, overlaid with a distant yapping, which must be Bambi. He’s always getting shut in rooms and yapping to be let out.

  “Effie?” prompts Bean.

  I can hardly bear to admit the truth, but there’s no way out of it.

  “I made up the date,” I confess at last.

  “You made it up?” Bean looks utterly crestfallen. “But what about the Olympic athlete?”

  “Invented him.”

  Bean sinks heavily onto the bed as though I’ve ruined her evening, not to say her entire life.

  “I’ve told everyone about him,” she says. “Everyone.”

  “I know. I heard you.”

  “You heard me?”

  “Talking to Joe. I was in the rosebush.”

  Bean’s eyes nearly pop out of her head. “Oh my God, Effie, you’re insane!”

  “I’m insane?” I retort in disbelief. “You just told me you were going to tear off my balls and feed them to my gerbil! Where the hell did that come from?”

  “Oh, that.” Bean looks pleased with herself. “That’s from the anger workshop I did. It was really good. I sent you the link, remember?”

  Bean is always sending me helpful links to workshops, so I don’t remember, but I nod.

      “Did they tell you to express your anger with a coat hanger?”

  “I was flustered!” says Bean defensively. “I just grabbed the first thing. Sorry if I hurt you,” she adds as an afterthought.

  “It’s OK. Sorry if you thought I was an ax murderer hiding in your bed.”

  Bean lifts her hands as though to say, Anytime. Then she surveys me again.

  “You’re wearing a hat.” She eyes my black beanie, perplexed. “You do know it’s summer?”

  “It’s part of my outfit.”

  Actually, the beanie is making me swelter. I take it off and put it on Bean’s bedpost, while she gazes at me.

  “But, Effie, what are you doing here?” she repeats. “Are you coming to the party?” She gestures in the direction of the noise.

  “No,” I say vehemently. “I’m here to get my Russian dolls. Then I’m going.”

  “Your Russian dolls?” Bean frowns.

  “I hid them up the box room chimney, ages ago. No one knows they’re there. They would be lost if I didn’t rescue them.”

  “Ohhh.” Bean emits a long, drawn-out sound. And this is the good thing about sisters: I don’t have to explain to her how I need my Russian dolls. She knows.

  She also knows why I put them up the box room chimney without asking. There’s a handy ledge, about six inches up, which is where we always stuffed contraband sweets. A secret cavity that even all-knowing Mimi never seemed to cotton on to. (The sweets got a bit sooty, but you just had to give them a rinse.)

      “But wait, Effie…” I can see Bean’s brain cranking into action. “Why have you come tonight, when everyone’s here? It’s the worst night! It’s madness!”

  “It’s not!” I say defensively, because doesn’t she think I’ve worked all this out? “It’s the best night! Everyone’s distracted with the party. It was the one time I could creep in and not be noticed. At least, that was the theory.” I roll my eyes. “Hasn’t quite worked out.”

  “You could have asked me to get them for you.” Bean suddenly looks a little hurt. “Or at least told me you were coming and not invented a date with an Olympic athlete.”