London from My Windows (32 page)

“It's not a support group; it's a group that educates others, and refuses to be hidden.” The woman pulled an iPhone out of her purse and scrolled through it. She turned it to Ava. There was a picture of a young man. He was out in the streets of London, with a girl posing next to him. He held a sign: Get Your Picture Taken with a Proud Dyslexic.

Ava handed it back. She didn't know what to think. But the woman was looking at Ava expectantly. She wanted her to react to this grand news. She wanted her to embrace the support group for those with hidden disabilities. She still liked “invisible” better. Their spokesperson could be the Invisible Man. That was kind of funny. Ava laughed. The woman frowned. Ava cleared her throat and posed the question as seriously as she could. “Do they ever meet inside?”

Once Ava was inside the taxicab she folded the flyer for Hidden Disabilities into little pieces and let it drop on the floor. Not normally one to litter, she just didn't want it in her possession. She didn't want to be associated with them. After all, a girl who routinely wore a rubbish bag over her head had no problems staying hidden.

CHAPTER 33

Navigate the London Underground (Tube/subway)
Ride the London Eye

 

For a solid week following the Buckingham Palace adventure, Ava didn't go anywhere. She'd missed her little perch at the windows, sketching, not worrying about the list, or the flat, or Vic, or Deven, or Hillary, or Queenie, or even Jasper. She just wanted to sketch anonymous Londoners from her emerald velvet stool.

She often lost track of what day it was, but in London she always knew when it was a Friday night. People literally had a bounce in their step. There were more girls in skirts, and dresses, and heels. Around four o'clock traffic was already jammed, as everyone had the brilliant idea to get out early. She wondered what most of them had in store. Who was going to their country house? Who was headed to the Tube to take the train to Paris? The station was only five blocks from her flat. It even had a champagne bar. People were sitting there, this very moment, drinking a glass of champagne, and waiting to zip off to a Parisian café, or nightclub. Ava was okay with the fact that she wasn't one of them. She wondered what people would think of their lives if they could see them in a series of sketches. Would they be forced to pay more attention to the little moments?

Although it would be fun to have a flat like this everywhere in the world. A little tree house of a place where you could gaze out at the people going by, sketch their lives for the few minutes you saw them. Ava had just finished sketching a woman with a dog in a handbag when the door opened and then slammed. Queenie was home, and it didn't sound good. Slowly, Ava put down her sketch pad and pencil and turned around. Queenie stood, red eyed, in front of her.

“I didn't get it,” he said.

Ava stood. “I'm so sorry.”

“I told you. I needed my lucky charm.”

“What did they say?”

Queenie looked away. “That I was too old,” he whispered. He turned back and raised his voice. “Too old!”

“You're right,” Ava said. “It had to be the lucky charm.”

“Why?” Queenie frowned. He was suspicious of her.

“Because that's a totally ridiculous thing to say about a man who looks like you.”

“Are you taking the piss?”

“Why, it's like saying you're too purple.” Queenie considered her for a moment, then flopped on the sofa.

“I'll pour you a Scotch,” Ava said.

“You mean there's actually some left?”

“I bought two new bottles.”

“You had Scotch delivered?” Queenie rose from the sofa.

“No,” Ava said. “I stopped into a liquor store on my way home from Buckingham Palace.” Actually, she had the driver of the town car run into the liquor store for her, but Queenie didn't need to get bogged down in the minutiae.

“You're cured?”

“I wouldn't go that far.”

“Amazing.” He was at the bar in seconds flat, and he downed the Scotch. He let it slam down on the bar. “So the flat will be yours, will it?”

Ava poured herself a Scotch, and took it to the window. “What do you mean?”

“You'll be able to complete the list.”

“I don't know. I hope so.” Now probably wasn't the time to ask him if she could count the porno for Big Ben and Jasper sitting on the bench for Hyde Park.

“Beverly would be very happy. And very proud.”

“So you're fine with the fact that she left the flat to me, and not to you?”

“I'll admit I wanted this flat. I still do. And I never thought you'd be able to do anything on that list. Yet look at you. If you win it fair and square I'll be happy for you. I'll feel sorry for me, but I'll be happy for you.”

“Hillary vehemently disagrees. She thinks I should let you have the flat no matter what.”

Queenie shook his head and went back to the sofa. “Hillary has always been a pistol. My sister drank and smoked a lot during her pregnancy.” Ava laughed.

“I found the decorating book she gave you.” Queenie gasped. “And I took it to her office and shoved it in her face.” He gasped again. It was rather dramatic sounding, and Ava had to laugh.

“You did not.”

“I did. I'm surprised she didn't tell you.”

“I've been busy with the auditions. You should have kept the decorating book. It had some lovely ideas.”

“I'd hate to change a thing,” Ava said. “It would be like changing Beverly.”

“Eventually you'll make it your own,” Queenie said. Her own. Ava had never even thought about that. “I'm starting to think you have the right idea. After that audition I never want to leave this flat again.” He laid his head on Ava's shoulder. She liked it.

“So don't,” she said. “We'll both stay here until we have moss growing on us.”

“Gross,” Queenie said. “And kind of nice too.”

The buzzer shrieked. Queenie slapped his hands over his ears, and sloshed his Scotch. “We have to do something about that.” Ava grinned. She was thrilled it wasn't just her. Queenie swore and padded to the door. He tried peeping out the peephole. “It's Jasper,” Queenie announced. Ava's heart lifted. Queenie opened the door and Jasper practically fell in.

“Are you okay?” Ava said.

“Did you find my lucky charm?” Queenie said.

Jasper glanced at Ava, then Queenie. “No. Sorry, mate.”

“You should be,” Queenie said. “I just lost the television show of my career because of you.”

“That's not true,” Ava said.

“It is so,” Queenie said.

Ava turned to Jasper. “Are you okay?”

“I haven't been to bed since my set last night.” Jasper collapsed on the sofa.

Queenie gasped. “Your set. Your comedy set. Thursday night. Oh, Jasper, I forgot all about it. I'm so, so sorry.”

“Not as sorry as I am.”

“I'm a horrible person. Not showing up for a friend's show? That's only second to, say, losing someone's lucky charm right before the audition of his life!”

Jasper put his hand up. “Queenie, I will be eternally sorry. I don't know what else to say or do.”

“I'm sorry I wasn't there,” Ava said.

“I'm glad you weren't there,” Jasper said. “I sucked. I failed. I bombed.” He collapsed on the sofa. “I'm beginning to think you have the right idea. I never want to go out again.”

Queenie gave Ava a long look. “Apparently you're contagious.”

Ava brought the bottle of Scotch over to the sofa along with another glass. “What were some of your jokes?” she asked.

“British politics, the law, women,” Jasper said.

“There's your problem,” Queenie said. “You should only joke about what you know.” Queenie and Ava laughed; Jasper did not.

“I'm sorry,” Ava said. “But all great comedians have failed at one point or another.”

“Some of them more and longer than others,” Queenie said.

“Would you like some Scotch?” Ava said, readying the pour.

“There's some left?” Jasper said. The door shrieked again. This time both Jasper and Queenie jumped while Ava answered it. There in the hall stood Vic and Deven.

“Oh,” Ava said. “Hello.”

“You're a bollocks,” Vic said to Ava. She pushed her way in, dragging Deven with her.

“What did I do?” Ava said.

“You made me fall in love with this terrorist.” She swung and smacked Deven in the gut.

“I'm not a terrorist.”

“Suspected terrorist,” Vic said. “And then you had the nerve to promise me half the flat if I'd help you with the list, only to snatch it away again.”

“You promised her half the flat?” Queenie said. Vic looked at Queenie and then Jasper as if just now noticing there were other people in the room.

“She did,” Vic said. “She'd rather have me than you as flatmate.”

“That's not true,” Ava said quickly. “Queenie, that's not true.”

“Queenie,” Vic said. “So you're the bloke with the lucky charm.”

Queenie gasped. “How do you know about my lucky charm?”

“Because Ava completely freaked out when she lost it.”

Queenie shot off the sofa and pointed at Ava. “You lost my lucky charm? You? Where is it? Where is it?”

“Do you have it, Vic?” Ava said.

“What would it be worth to you?” Vic said.

Just when Ava thought Queenie's gasps couldn't get any louder, he inhaled and then bellowed out a sound like a tuba.

“Queenie, please calm down,” Ava said.

“Calm down?” Queenie said. “Calm down?”

“I'll get it back. I swear,” Ava said. She glared at Vic, who was sporting a triumphant smirk. Meanwhile Queenie looked as if he was about to explode. He whirled on Ava and shook his fist.

“Can you also turn back time?” he yelled. “Can you turn back time and give me back the audition of my life? Telly! I was going to be on telly.”

“Look on the bright side,” Jasper said. “Telly adds ten pounds. So it's like you've lost ten pounds.”

“No wonder you bombed,” Queenie said. “There isn't a funny bone in your body!”

“All right,” Ava said. “Everybody calm down.”

“Where exactly did you lose my lucky charm?” Queenie said.

“I went to Sainsbury's, and then home. Between here and there.”

“And you.” Queenie whirled on Jasper. “Why did you lie?”

“Because he didn't want you to hate me,” Ava said. “We were getting along so well.”

“All good things must come to an end,” Queenie said. “And the bad things too. I cannot believe the two of you and your little secrets. How long do you have to complete the list, Ava? A fortnight? Is that Big Ben I hear ticking in the distance? Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock.”

“Do you have the charm or not?” Ava asked Vic again. Vic pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Queenie started to cough. “Put that out. I told you he's allergic.”

“The audition of my life,” Queenie repeated. “The money. The fame. It's all your fault.” Once again he pointed at Ava.

“That lucky charm wouldn't have made you look any younger,” Ava said.

Queenie gasped. “Wanker!” he shouted.

“Ava thinks I'm funny,” Jasper said. “Don't you, Ava?”

“Let's all calm down,” Ava said.

“Why didn't you tell me? You let me go on that audition without it,” Queenie said. “Did you even look for it?” He glared at Ava. “You didn't, did you? Because that would have meant going outside.”

“Queenie, listen to me. You didn't need it. Whether or not you got the part has nothing to do with the lucky charm.”

“Oh, it wasn't ridiculous that I didn't get it then? It wasn't like saying I was purple?”

“Purple?” Jasper said.

“And you don't need to be afraid of the outside either, do you?” Queenie said.

“That's not the same,” Ava said.

“How is it not?” Queenie said. “Does this not look like a panic attack to you?”

“Actually, it just looks like an attack. On me. Why would you be panicking when the audition is over?”

“Thanks to you!” Queenie said.

“How much is the thing worth?” Vic said.

“What are you doing here?” Ava asked Vic.

“Visiting my mate,” Vic said. “Aren't you my mate?”

“No,” Ava said.

“British luck to you getting rid of me,” Vic said. “I'm on a long smoke break.”

“Me too,” Deven said.

Ava was pondering what on earth she could say to that when the door opened without warning. Ava whirled around. “Don't you know how to knock?” There stood Hillary. And next to her—Ava's mother. Followed by Diana. This wasn't happening. She was dreaming. That's it. She was dreaming. Vic was sitting on the sill swinging her leg. Ava kicked her in the shin.

“Crikey! What did you do that for?”

“Pinching is too cliché,” Ava said. “I have to be dreaming.”

“No hug? No kiss? No hello?” her mother said.

“Mom. Diana. What are you doing here?” Ava hugged her mother, although she didn't want to. The feeling must have been mutual, for Gretchen didn't even hug back; she just patted Ava. People weren't just supposed to turn up from America. There were supposed to be multiple conversations and excuses, and postponements first.

“Knock, knock,” Hillary said.

“Who's there?” Jasper answered glumly.