ChapterTwenty-Six
Text from Alex:Really looking forward to seeing you tomorrow, sis. We’ve missed havingyouhere!
‘Oh Olive,you poor poor goose. You poor frightened trembling littlegoose.’
I wake up to the sound of a very thin, drawling voice calling me a frightened goose. My eyes flutter open and I’m peeved to discover that I am not on a sofa bed in the Upper West Side, but still in a jail cell, my head resting on the furry-coated shoulder of Mandy Banana who is lightly snoring beside me. I rub my eyes. Anders is in front of the holding cell, his horrified face poking between the bars. He’s wearing a tight white T-shirt and baggy white jeans on his skinny frame. With his white blonde hair and pale skin, the effect isstartling.
‘I came as soon as I could,’ he says, grasping onto the bars of the cell with a quiet drama. ‘I had my phone turned off – I was dyeing hair extensions and I didn’t want to be disturbed – it’s a very particular process. Anyway I’m here now, you poor sweet jail kitten. I’m so glad you called me. Surprised – people never seem to call me again –butglad.’
‘What time is it?’I ask, suddenly wideawake.
‘It’s 3 a.m,’ Anders says, his perfect face looking not at all sleepy. ‘How long have you been here? Don’t worry. I’m gettingyouout.’
My stomach drops into my feet. 3 a.m.? My flight home is in six minutes. I’ve missed it. I’ve missed my way out of here. And I haven’t found Chuck. And Seth probably thinks I stood him up! Why did I fall asleep? Why isn’t my legal counsel here? What am I going todonow?
‘No, no. no,’ I mutter to myself. ‘I can’t have missed myflight.’
Officer Leeland appears behind Anders. ‘You’re a lucky kid, English. Your friend here has a hotshot lawyer. She’s spoken to the prosecution office, they’ve deemed this a low-priority case and are choosing not to filecharges.
Iblink.
‘You mean, I can leave? I - Icango?’
‘Yup,’ Officer Leeland says, unlocking the cell, and letting me out. ‘English, you are freetogo.’
* * *
In the cab,I tell Anders how and why I got arrested. He seems thrilled with the drama of it all. ‘And there I was thinking you were such a meek little thing!’ He’s even more thrilled that a photo of me with hair styled by him has appeared in theNew YorkDailyNews.
When the taxi pulls up to my apartment building and before I can even open the car door, Anders has dived out and done it for me. I get the sense that, like me, he doesn’t have many friends and that’s he’s quite pleased to be the one helping me. Or maybe he is just being nice until he can knock me out and have his way with my hair. Only one way tofindout.
Upstairs, I take out my key, as Anders shudders at the ‘miniscule dimensions’ of the vestibule. I just want to flop on the sofa bed, FaceTime Birdie, eat some comfort food and figure out what the hell I’m going todonext.
But as I open the door to my apartment I’m greeted by the sight of a young red-haired woman painting her nails on the futon. She jumps up in fright at ourarrival.
‘What the hell?’ she yells, the little pot of pink nail polish tumbling off the futon and spilling onto the parquet floor. ‘Who are you? How did you getinhere?’
I frown as I take in the apartment. None of my stuffishere!
‘Who areyou?’ I step inside and glance around. Where are all my belongings? ‘I… this is my apartment,’ I say. ‘Where’s mystuff?’
‘Oh!’ the girl’s confused face relaxes into a smile. ‘Oh, yeah. The doorman said you might turn up. Yeah, so this is my Airbnb now. I checked in half an hour ago. The super said you were supposed to have left by now. He was gonna take your belongings down to the basement but the woman in the apartment opposite said she’d look after it for you, that you weren’t the kind of girl who left without saying goodbye. I guess she was right!’ She turns to Anders. ‘Nicejeans.’
‘I know,’ he says. ‘Prada.’
I shake my head in disbelief. Now I have no place to stay? How the ham sandwich has everything gone so completely and utterly wrong! This is chaos! Bona fidechaos!
Anders following me, I hurry out across to Mrs Ramirez’s place and give it a gentle knock. It’s almost 5 a.m. Man, I hope she’s an early riser. I feel like a dick for potentially waking her up, but what else am I supposed to do? I need my stuff. I need to change out of these stinkyclothesASAP.
Within a few seconds of me knocking, the door swings open. Mrs Ramirez stands there, fully dressed, her longhairdamp.
‘Ah, I knew you hadn’t run away! Comein,dear.’
I walk into Mrs Ramirez’s apartment, Anders closebehind.
‘I’m Anders von Preen,’ he tells Mrs Ramirez. ‘I rescued Olivefromjail.’
‘Jail? Ay no! I’m Mrs Ramirez,’ Mrs Ramirez replies, leaning over to shake Anders’ bony hand before hobbling back over to her armchair, hand rubbing herinjuredknee.
