Lia's Guide to Winning the Lottery (25 page)

Keira asked me to her party!!! Molly says I can borrow her black dress!!!

Plan for BGT: 1. LOSE WEIGHT! 2. BLONDE (?) EXTENSIONS (?) 3. Change name: Tasha? Stella? Sasha? Sasha Starr? Sasha Lamarr? 4. AUDITION SONG?????

Under any other circumstances I'd have been snorting with laughter and making a note to start calling Natters ‘Slasher Lamarr' whenever I could. Or even Borat. But not that day.

Natasha's diary was plastered with emoticon stickers. Almost all of them were happy and smiley, ever since the day I hit the jackpot. Before that they were mostly sad, or frowning, or squiggle-mouth-confused.

‘Don't cry, darling,' said Mum, holding my hand.
‘We'll get her back. We will.'

‘It's just . . . she's so sweet, Natasha. So nice. Look at this diary. She's too nice for real life. People are just going to hurt her, again and again. I can't bear it.'

Mum blew her nose. ‘I know. She's not tough. She's not like you and me. She's like your dad. Always sees the best in everyone. It'd be so easy for someone to trick her . . . some boy, maybe . . . or worse. . . Oh, Lia.'

‘These girls, these new friends. They don't really like her. They're not like Shaz or Jack, or my other friends. They just want her for my money.'

‘She'd never see it, though,' said Mum. ‘She's just so innocent.'

The first policeman came back into the room.

‘We might be on to something with the boy, the boy at the bakery,' he said. ‘He's disappeared too. His brother's very worried about him. Not seen him since Saturday morning. And the office at the top of the internet café – it's kitted out for someone to sleep there.'

‘Oh my God!' Mum and I said.

‘He'd been planning it,' said Mum. ‘Planning to hold her prisoner. Oh God. Where are they? What's he done with her?'

‘Look,' I said, ‘I happen to know there's nothing
sinister about that room. Raf sleeps there. He doesn't like living with his brother, so he sleeps at the café. His brother treats him like a slave, he's got nothing.'

‘He needs some money then,' said the policeman. ‘Would you have recognised his voice?'

‘Yes!' I said, although the line was so scratchy that it could have been Mickey Mouse at the end of the line and I wouldn't have realised.

‘And anyway, I saw him this evening. He came to see me at the hotel. We're really good friends. We . . . err . . . had a coffee together.'

‘Really?' said the policeman. ‘Why didn't you mention this before?'

‘Really?' said Mum, giving me a suspicious stare.

‘Umm . . . yes. . . He's been helping me with my coursework. He's a really nice guy.'

He came to warn me, I thought. He came to warn me about his father. He said he wasn't to be trusted, that he was dangerous.

I couldn't form the words. I couldn't bear to think of Natasha . . . of Nick's skull-like face . . . of Raf. . . It couldn't be him. It couldn't be.

‘What time was this coffee? When did he leave?' asked the policeman.

‘He was creating his alibi!' said my mum.

‘Err . . . not long ago, really. We shared a cab. I dropped him at the Broadway,' I said, mind racing. Surely Raf's dad wouldn't . . . surely . . . surely. . .

‘He came to see me,' I said. ‘He was really fine. And he didn't know about Natasha. He was totally shocked when I got your phone call, Mum.'

‘He might be a very good actor,' said Mum. ‘What do you mean, he came to see you in your hotel? What's been going on? We rang you at 2 am, Lia. 2 am. What were you doing with this boy?'

‘
Nothing
,' I said. Could she be right? Was Raf acting? After all, I'd never had a clue what was going on with him. What if everything he'd said today was just made-up nonsense? What if he really was part of a gang of kidnappers and they'd sent him to seduce me . . . distract me . . . confuse me?

But he seemed so honest when he told me he loved me. That had to be a good thing – didn't it?

It was getting light. I looked at my watch. Six o'clock.

‘I can't stand this,' I said, ‘I need a friend here.'

‘Jack?' asked Mum, but I shook my head. I'd have loved Jack to be here right now, but Jack meant Donna. I'd lost Jack forever. He was never going to forgive me for humiliating his mum.

‘Shaz?' I said, ‘Shaz . . . I'm really sorry to call so early. Really sorry,'

‘It's OK,' she said, ‘I was awake.'

‘Look, can you come over, Shaz? Please? It's Natasha. She's disappeared.'

‘Disappeared?'

‘She might have been kidnapped.'

‘Kidnapped! Lia! Is it on the news? What happened?'

‘No one knows. We got a phone call.'

‘I'm coming over. I'll be there really soon. It'll be OK, Lia, I know it will.'

When Shaz arrived, she hugged me tight. ‘Let's go and talk upstairs,' she said. ‘Tell me everything. I can't believe this.'

Our bedroom was a tip. If I'd known the police were going to search it, I'd have tidied up. They'd had a good nose through our stuff. Thank God I didn't keep anything particularly private in there. Natasha's Honey Bear was lying drunkenly on the floor. I picked him up. His goofy worn smile – she'd had him since she was six and I'd teased her about him a million times – made me cry again.

Shaz flew around the room, making beds, scooping up bracelets and earrings, folding, tidying, shutting cupboard doors and closing drawers. In less than ten
minutes she had the room looking tidier than it had for years. Shaz could work miracles.

Then we sat on Nat's bed and I told her everything.

Well, not quite everything. One thing I knew about Shaz is that she wouldn't approve of sex with a boy who isn't quite your boyfriend in a hotel room. She wouldn't approve of sex with a boyfriend anywhere. She was incredibly strait-laced – like someone from the olden days.

So I told her that Raf had turned up, and we'd sat in the hotel foyer and had a coffee and talked.

And I told her about what he'd said, that he needed to warn me, that his dad was dangerous.

‘Lia!' Shaz had finally lost her cool. Her eyes were shiny with tears. ‘What did the police say when you told them? Are they looking for him?'

‘I haven't told them – Shaz, I can't. What if it's nothing to do with Natasha? That's Raf's dad . . . I can't,
Shaz.
'

‘Lia, you have no choice. No choice. What if he's abducted Natasha? What if he's holding her prisoner? The police need to know, Lia. They need to know everything.'

‘Shaz . . . wait. . .'

‘That phone call,' she said. ‘What did they actually say?'

‘“If you want to see your sister again, it'll cost you. Get ready to pay up, bitch.”'I choked up, just saying it.

‘That's a threat to kill,' said Shaz. ‘They're saying they're going to kill her. What are you waiting for, Lia? Who are you protecting?'

‘Oh God, you're right, you're right, come on, Shaz, come on. . .'

All I could see was Natasha's terrified face . . . Natasha in pain . . . Natasha crying. How could I have held back any information at all for even one second?

We galloped down the stairs, burst into the living room.

‘I've got something to tell you!' I said. ‘I think it's really important! I might know who's got Natasha!'

‘Shush,' said Mum. I stopped, confused. Why was she telling me to shush?

Then I heard it.

Someone was opening the door. A key was turning in the lock.

‘Natasha!' shrieked Mum and rushed into the hall.

The door swung open. My little sister stood on the doorstep, milk-white face, blood-red lipstick.

And her arm was around Raf's waist.

Chapter 27

You can't predict everything, but with money, that doesn't matter as much.

I screamed, ‘What the
hell
?' so loud it woke the neighbour's cat, and as Mum hugged Natasha tight, I beat my fists against Raf's chest. ‘What were you doing with her? What's going on? Oh my
God
.'

‘I'd like to ask you both some questions,' said the detective inspector.

‘Are you all right, darling? Natasha? Where have you been?' said Mum frantically.

‘I'm fine,' said Natasha faintly. Then she lurched forward and burped, holding her stomach. Everyone jumped backwards, but all that came out of her mouth was a clear liquid.

‘Natasha!' shrieked Mum. Natasha retched again. This time the vomit was real and carroty, hitting Raf's black shirt and designer jeans.

‘Oh my God,' said Mum, and dragged Nat into the downstairs loo.

‘On second thoughts, I'll leave this to you, Jim,' said the detective inspector. ‘I'll be off. Nice meeting you.'

The policeman said, ‘That was Natasha, I take it? And Rafael? Too much partying?'

Raf was trying to clean the remains of Natasha's last supper off his jeans with a used tissue. ‘I don't know . . . I just found her in the street.'

He was too busy removing vomit to notice the cynical expression on the policeman's face.

‘And the phone call? Thought it'd be a laugh to waste police time and terrify Natasha's family? I think you've got some explaining to do.'

Shazia stepped forward and handed Raf a wet flannel and a clean white T-shirt, which she must have found on the ironing pile, because when he peeled off his own and put the new one on, it was slightly crumpled, a bit short and it had
Tithe Green Ladies' Netball Team
printed on the front. He still looked gorgeous, though.

I very nearly threw my arms around him, but there was far too much of an audience. Neighbours were beginning to emerge in their dressing gowns.

‘I just found her. On the corner. She was sitting on
the pavement; she looked a bit . . . a bit out of it.'

‘I'm fine,' said Natasha's muffled voice from the vicinity of the toilet.

‘She needs water,' said Shaz. ‘I'll get some.'

Mum and Dad and Shaz fussed around Natasha. They got her sitting down at the kitchen table, with Shaz mopping her brow and Mum and Dad asking her questions. The policeman went outside to phone his station. And it was just Raf and me left on the doorstep. I ignored the neighbours, grabbed his arm.

‘Raf – Raf, what happened? You can tell me, Raf.'

‘I . . . nothing . . . I mean, it was just like I said. I was walking up the road and I saw Natasha. She didn't look well. I thought she needed help.'

His voice trailed off. He looked around. The policeman was still on the phone, and we could hear raised voices from the kitchen. It sounded like Mum and Dad and Natasha were yelling at each other, which was quite strange, given that generally all family rows had me firmly at their centre.

‘Raf – I—'

‘Look, Lia, there's something I need to say. That's why I was coming to see you. . .'

Oh God. He was going to tell me about
his evil father. And then I'd have to tell the police.

‘It's just. . . Look, I really don't want. . . I'm not sure how to. . .'

‘Raf, I think I know. . .' I said.

‘It's just that I should've, you know. Durex. And I did have . . . except I didn't want you to think . . . and I didn't assume, I just always . . . and there wasn't a right moment – and I'm sure I haven't, but I'll go and get checked if you want. And did you know about this thing called the morning after pill?'

Oh my God.

‘It's OK,' I said gruffly. ‘I'll take care of it. Don't worry.'

‘I'm sorry. . .'

‘That's OK.'

‘Umm, Lia, I—'

But then Mum appeared again. I almost had a heart attack.

‘We're going to have to take her to hospital,' she said. ‘Something's not right.'

So unfair. Natasha starts shouting at them and they assume she's ill and has to be checked by a doctor. Whereas if I were to shout at them, they'd just roll their eyes and say, ‘Typical, Lia.'