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Chapter Twenty-Seven
That afternoon, Sophie escaped from the classroom a little earlier. She wanted to visit Lulu and see how she was getting on. It had been a week or so since her fall and Sophie hadn’t seen her out and about in town, which was unusual, albeit understandable. She went armed with flowers and a bottle of sherry – Lulu’s favourite tipple.
Lulu’s house was on the edge of town. It had to be because it was vast and there was simply not enough space for it anywhere else. At first glance, it exuded chic glamour. But as Sophie neared it for the first time, she could see that the apparently ornate gate posts, spherical stone balls balanced on the top, were actually looking a little worse for wear. And as she made her way through the garden to the front door, she could see that the planting was wild and overgrown. Its façade had slipped only slightly, just like its owner.
She rang the Gothic bell and waited, wondering whether it was taking Lulu so long to answer because of her injuries or because of the sheer size of the house. If she was at the far side, it would surely take an age to get to the front door.
‘Just a moment.’ Lulu’s voice was muffled.
She could hear rummaging inside as Lulu undid the locks and chains.
‘Sophie, honey!’ Lulu opened the door wide and beckoned her into the house. ‘Come in!’
‘Hello, Lulu,’ Sophie said, giving her a hug and passing her the gifts she’d brought with her.
The inside of the house took Sophie’s breath away. It was a time capsule from the golden age of Hollywood and would have been impressive ordinarily, but decked out for Christmas, it was magical. The foyer spanned the entire height of the building and there was a Christmas tree, maybe eight feet tall, reaching up into the space. It was decorated with oversized baubles and twinkling fairy lights. Evergreen garlands covered every available surface, winding up the staircase and framing each window. Through an archway, Sophie could see that the festive decorations continued, with more fairy lights and garlands hanging from every possible place.
‘Christmassy, huh?’ Lulu said in her American twang.
Sophie nodded, stepping further into the house and looking around in awe. It was only then that she looked at Lulu properly, wrapped in a dark red silk house coat and wearing a turban, a large crystal embellishing the front and a long feather sticking up from the centre.
‘It looks magical,’ Sophie said, feeling like a child again.
‘Come on in, won’t you?’
Lulu showed her through into a large sitting room and Sophie followed, continuing to look around her and notice the details of the Christmas decorations. It was only when they’d travelled a significant distance to get to the sitting room that she noticed Lulu seemed to be walking perfectly unaided. There wasn’t a stick or a Zimmer frame in sight. She tilted her head in an attempt to appraise her walk as she followed her through into the large living room. But there was nothing odd – and definitely nothing ailing – about it.
‘How are you feeling?’ Sophie asked, as she settled into a large armchair, the back of which rose up like something out of the Mad Hatter’s tea party.
‘Horrendous!’ Lulu spoke with a dramatic flourish and lowered herself into a similar chair opposite. ‘The fall was such a shock but I’m mostly upset that I can’t sing at your wonderful concert.’
‘Oh, Lulu, it’s fine, really. I just hope you’re not doing too much and giving yourself time to recover.’ She looked around at the festive decorations and hoped she’d hired help. She must have done.
‘I am, I am,’ she said, waving her hand madly.
Sophie narrowed her eyes. To be honest, she didn’t look like she needed to recover from anything.
‘Who have you got to do the solo now?’ Lulu asked. ‘I can’t tell you how distraught I am not to be singing.’
‘Well …’ Sophie paused, knowing that once she said it out loud to Lulu, there would be no going back. ‘Me, actually.’
‘Bravo!’ she said, clasping her hands together in excitement – almost too quickly, as if it was the answer she expected. ‘You’ll be wonderful. I really can’t think of anyone who could do it better.’
‘I don’t know—’ Sophie protested, but Lulu interrupted.
‘No, no, no,’ she said, gesticulating madly again. ‘We’ll have none of that self-deprecating rubbish! You’ll be fabulous.’
Sophie smiled.
‘Can I offer you a cup of tea?’ Lulu said.
Sophie nodded, half expecting Lulu to ring a little bell and for a servant to appear. They didn’t. Instead, Lulu stood – unaided and pain-free – and walked into the kitchen. Sophie followed her through the archway and into a kitchen that Sophie guessed hadn’t been refurbished in fifty years or so. She liked it, though. It reminded her of the Hollywood musicals she was so fond of – all Bakelite and melamine.
Lulu made the tea while they engaged in small talk. Afterwards, they brought the drinks back into the sitting room and Sophie set Lulu’s down on a dark mahogany side table.
‘So, what about that Liam fellow?’ Lulu asked.
Her out-of-the-blue question threw Sophie, and she spilt a little tea onto the saucer. She put her cup down on the side and shuffled in the chair.
