‘We have to wash the glasses and the cutlery by hand,’ Donna told her. ‘I’ll do the glasses and you girls can do the cutlery.’
‘I’ll wash,’ said Astrid. ‘You can dry.’
That surprised Bey. She’d always thought most people preferred drying, as she did. However, when all the glasses were done, Astrid added more water to the sink and dumped the knives and forks into it, then swirled them around and simply began lifting them out in bundles.
‘Hey!’ cried Bey. ‘There’s still potato stuck to the forks. Wash them properly.’
‘They’re fine,’ Astrid said.
‘They’re not.’ Bey threw the offending forks back into the sink.
‘I’m not doing them again!’
‘You have to.’
‘No. Stop it! I’ve done those already.’
They were glaring at each other as Donna walked back into the kitchen. When she asked what the matter was, Astrid told her that Bey was making her wash the cutlery a second time, and Bey jumped in to explain why. Donna told Astrid to wash them properly and then left them alone again. Bey smiled with satisfaction at her victory and Astrid shot her a daggered look.
‘I can’t do them because I don’t want to get my ring wet,’ she said.
‘Take it off, then.’
The ring had been Astrid’s Christmas cracker gift. It was a small blue stone on a narrow hoop, and although Astrid had put it on, she’d complained that it was too big for her. Richard had looked surprised, but Donna had told her it would probably fit her in a few weeks because she was growing so quickly.
Astrid heaved an exaggerated sigh and put the ring on the windowsill above the sink. ‘I don’t really like it anyhow,’ she said as she swirled the cutlery around again. ‘Blue isn’t my favourite colour.’
‘I guess it’s pot luck with Christmas crackers,’ said Bey. ‘Last year I got a miniature spanner in mine.’
Astrid said nothing, but rattled some more knives and forks onto the draining board. Then she removed the apron Donna had made her wear before starting and said she was finished.
‘You have to wait until I’ve dried them,’ Bey protested. ‘The washer-up puts them away. That’s how we always do it at home.’
‘Well you’re not at home now, are you? You’re in our house being made a fuss of even if you don’t deserve it.’
Bey gasped at Astrid’s words. She’d already decided her half-sister was bitchy. But she was taken aback by her blatant rudeness.
‘Wait,’ she said as Astrid walked toward the door. ‘I don’t know where to put stuff.’
‘Are you thick? The box on the table, of course.’ Astrid didn’t turn around.
Bey hadn’t noticed the red box with its velvet lining, which was obviously where the best cutlery was kept.
‘Your ring!’ Bey called towards her retreating back.
‘Don’t want it!’ Astrid replied.
Bey sighed and returned to the drying-up. When she’d finished, she slotted the cutlery into the spaces in the box. Then she wiped down the draining board. Nobody had come into the kitchen to see how she was getting on, and she was feeling a little bit like Cinderella, cast out from the fun. When she’d seen the movie, years after her mother had read her the fairy tale, she’d thought Cinderella was a bit of a wimp in not standing up for herself more. But right now she understood her, even if the circumstances were entirely different.
Astrid’s Christmas cracker ring was still on the windowsill. Bey couldn’t see why she didn’t like it. Even though it was plastic, the blue stone sparkled under the bright kitchen light. Unlike most rings from Christmas crackers, there wasn’t a break in the hoop so you couldn’t change the size, which was why it was too big for Astrid. Bey supposed it would be too small for her, but when she slipped it on, it fitted perfectly.
She wriggled her fingers in front of her. There was a vitality about it that enchanted her. She wondered if Astrid would swap it for the key ring. Though from what she was beginning to know of her half-sister, she doubted she would, especially as it had the wrong initial on the fob. But she’d said she didn’t want this ring. She was clearly one of those people who only liked expensive things. She’d been happy to give away her cheap bracelet, even though it was a gift. She’d probably be equally happy to give away her Christmas cracker ring too. Although maybe not to Bey. In fact, definitely not to Bey. But what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, would it?
Bey left the kitchen and went upstairs to her room. She took the ring off and left it on the dressing table. It was OK to keep it, she rationalised. There were other Christmas crackers still unpulled. Astrid would probably get something she liked much better the next time.
Chapter 15
Inclusion: a particle of foreign matter within a gemstone
When she arrived downstairs again, everyone was gathered in front of the TV.
‘What on earth have you been doing?’ demanded her father. ‘We’ve been waiting for you.’
‘Is everything OK?’ asked Donna. ‘I looked for you in the kitchen but you weren’t there.’
‘I went up to my room for a few minutes,’ said Bey.
‘Right,’ said Peter. ‘Fire her up, Phil!’ He grinned at Philip, who pressed a button on the remote he was holding and the opening credits to Mary Poppins came up.
‘Haven’t we seen this before?’ asked Adele.
‘It’s a limited-edition re-release,’ said Philip. ‘I picked it up in the States.’
‘You were in America?’ asked Bey. ‘When?’
‘Dad’s always going to America,’ said Astrid. ‘We went too last year. To Disneyland. It was great.’
‘I thought US cassettes didn’t work in Europe,’ said Cushla.
‘This one does,’ said Philip.
‘I love Mary Poppins ,’ said Astrid.
‘It’s lame.’ Anthony made a face.
Philip took another cassette from a box and handed it to him.
‘If you’d rather watch this, you can go into the den,’ he said.
‘Oh, wow!’ Anthony grinned as he saw the copy of Star Trek: Insurrection . ‘That’s more like it.’
Philip laughed as Anthony disappeared, followed by Peter, who said he’d keep him company.
‘I’ll join you both shortly,’ he said. ‘I want to see it too.’
Bey decided to stick with Mary Poppins , even though she would have preferred Star Trek . But nobody else was leaving the living room and she felt awkward about saying she’d prefer to be with the others in the den.
‘Mary Poppins was a better au pair than Sabine,’ said Astrid at the end of the film.
‘She was a nanny,’ Bey pointed out. ‘Do you have a nanny?’
‘We’re not babies !’ Astrid was outraged. ‘Sabine was with us last summer. To help Mum and do stuff with us. She was great with hair,’ she added. ‘She used to do mine in plaits around my head. They wear their hair like that in Germany, you know.’
‘Yes,’ said Bey. ‘I did know.’
‘You couldn’t do it with yours,’ said Astrid. ‘It would look stupid.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you’re a ginger nut, of course.’
‘It’s Titian.’ Bey had learned not to rise to the bait when people called her ginger, but Astrid had a definite ability to rub her up the wrong way.
‘Ha ha. You wish. Carrot top!’
Bey made a face at her and Astrid made one back. She took the cassette out of the player and replaced it in its case.
‘Where’s your ring?’ Donna asked her.
Astrid glanced at her hand. ‘I left it in the kitchen.’
‘You shouldn’t leave things lying around,’ said Donna. ‘Go and get it.’
She added a quick ‘now’, which stifled the objection that Astrid seemed about to raise.
Bey knew she should say something but she wasn’t sure what it should be. It would sound crazy to say that she’d taken the ring and put it in her bedroom, as though she w
as so overcome by everything the Warrens had that she wanted to keep an extra trinket from the Christmas crackers. She didn’t want to seem that pathetic.
Astrid came back into the room and told her mum that the ring wasn’t there.
‘It must be,’ said Philip, who’d returned from the den with Anthony and Peter. ‘Look again, properly this time.’
‘I looked all over,’ said Astrid.
‘When did you have it last?’ asked Donna.
‘I told you. In the kitchen. I took it off when we were washing up.’
‘Where did you put it?’
‘On the windowsill. I looked there. And on the floor.’
‘Oh for heaven’s sake.’ There was a note of exasperation in Donna’s voice. ‘It can’t have disappeared.’
Bey couldn’t understand the fuss over a silly token from a cracker, but she was scrambling to her feet to say that she’d help look (her plan was to rush upstairs and get the ring, then drop it on the kitchen floor and ‘find’ it herself) when Astrid turned and pointed at her.
‘She was alone in there,’ cried the younger girl melodramatically. ‘She could have robbed it when nobody was looking!’
‘I . . . Of course I didn’t rob it.’ Bey knew that her next remark should be that she’d tried it on and accidentally left it upstairs. But facing their accusatory looks, the words that came out of her mouth instead were: ‘Why would I take her stupid ring?’
‘Because it’s from Warren’s,’ said Astrid.
‘It came out of a cracker!’ Bey retorted. ‘Not everything in the world belongs to the Warrens, you know!’
‘Did you take it, Bey?’ Cushla’s voice was gentle. ‘It doesn’t matter if you did. It really doesn’t.’
‘Of course it matters!’ cried Astrid. ‘It’s mine and she stole it! She’s a thief, that’s what she is.’
‘I didn’t steal it!’ Bey shouted. ‘I don’t want your crappy stuff.’
‘Bey!’ Philip grabbed her by the hand. ‘Let’s check if you do have it, shall we?’
Bey felt dizzy. She wished she’d hidden the ring in her bag. But she’d left it in plain sight on the dressing table, and now her father was going to think she was both a thief and a liar. He’d think she’d taken it deliberately, which of course she had, but she hadn’t intended to . . . Well, she didn’t quite know what she had or hadn’t intended when it had come to the ring. All she’d known was that Astrid didn’t like it and she did. She told herself that it was only a plastic ring from a Christmas cracker. It wasn’t as though she’d actually robbed something out of a Warren’s shop! But she felt as though she had.
When her father opened the door to her room, Bey thought she was going to faint.
He stepped inside and immediately saw the ring. He turned to her, an unfathomable expression on his face.
‘You lied to me,’ he said. ‘This is how you repay me after everything we did for you today. I’m very disappointed in you, Bey.’
‘It was a mistake,’ she said.
‘What was?’ asked Philip. ‘Stealing it or lying about stealing it?’
‘I didn’t steal it. Not . . . not really. I just tried it on and . . .’
‘And?’
‘And came up here.’
‘And left it in your room.’
‘I was going to ask her to swap it,’ she said.
‘Why?’
‘Astrid didn’t want it. But I thought she mightn’t do the swap, so when she left it there I . . . I took it.’
‘That ring came out of a Warren’s cracker,’ said Philip. ‘She wouldn’t dream of swapping it.’
‘Why not?’ Bey asked. ‘We swap things all the time in Cloghdrom.’
‘That’s completely different,’ Philip told her. ‘You’re going to come downstairs with me now and apologise to Astrid, and give her her ring back.’
‘I didn’t mean to take it without saying anything. But she was being mean to me and—’
‘Stop making excuses,’ said her father. ‘You took something that wasn’t yours. That’s a very serious issue, Bey. You must know that.’
‘You don’t have to make it such a big deal!’ cried Bey.
‘A Warren’s ring from a Warren’s Christmas cracker is a big deal,’ said Philip. ‘You should know that already.’
‘What d’you mean, a Warren’s ring?’ Bey suddenly felt a hollow in the pit of her stomach.
‘Every Warren’s cracker contains a piece of jewellery,’ said her father. ‘Even if your mother didn’t tell you, you can’t have missed our ads on TV.’
Bey swallowed hard. Lola always switched channels when the Warren’s ads came on.
‘Some more expensive than others, of course,’ he added. ‘The ones I bring home aren’t the most expensive. But they’re nice.’
‘You mean it’s not plastic?’ Bey gasped.
‘Of course it’s not plastic,’ said Philip. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘I’m not being ridiculous!’ exclaimed Bey. ‘How was I supposed to . . . I wouldn’t have . . . It’s actually a real jewel? A sapphire?’
‘A small one,’ said her father. ‘But yes.’
‘You put jewellery in Christmas crackers?!’ Bey thought of the miniature yo-yos, the tiny spinning tops and the fortune-telling fish that were the usual fare at Granny Fitzpatrick’s. ‘Actual jewellery?’
‘It’s a signature thing for Warren’s,’ said her father. ‘They’re made to order.’
‘But . . .’ Bey thought about it for a moment and then looked at her father in confusion. ‘I only got a key ring.’
‘A very good key ring,’ he reminded her. ‘Stainless steel and leather.’
‘That’s why you didn’t want me to swap. Astrid’s ring is a lot better than the key ring. It’s probably more expensive.’
‘The value has nothing to do with it,’ said Philip. ‘Look, I’m prepared to accept that you didn’t realise the worth of the ring when you took it, but the principle is the same. You did take it and you lied about it too. So you need to apologise to Astrid right now.’
Bey felt as though she’d been punched in the stomach. She’d actually taken a real, proper piece of jewellery. Her father was right: the fact that she hadn’t known it was valuable was irrelevant. It hadn’t been hers to take. And taking it from Astrid somehow made things worse. The younger girl would never let her forget it.
‘I’m not going down,’ she said. ‘You can give her the ring. And I don’t think it’s fair to make such a big deal about it. Everyone swaps things from crackers. It wasn’t my fault that I didn’t know it was real.’
‘You knew enough to call it a sapphire.’
‘It’s a blue stone. Some of my blue beads are called sapphire. It doesn’t make them real.’
She was trying hard not to cry. He was making her feel like some kind of master criminal specialising in sapphire thefts. She’d never seen a real sapphire in her life. And yet from the moment she’d seen the ring, she’d known it was special, and hadn’t understood why Astrid didn’t like it. So perhaps deep down she’d guessed it was valuable. Perhaps she was a proper thief after all. She blinked the tears from her eyes while her father stood looking at her.
‘All right,’ he said eventually, putting the ring in his pocket. ‘You can stay here. I’ll tell the others that your punishment for stealing and lying is being sent to your room.’
He walked out and closed the door firmly behind him. Bey threw herself on the bed and buried her face in the covers. All day, even in the moments when she’d been enjoying herself the most, a part of her had been thinking that Christmas at Cleevaun House might be stylish, but it still couldn’t compare with Christmas at Cloghdrom. She’d allowed herself a slight feeling of superiority, thinking that flashier didn’t necessarily mean better. But she wasn’t superior to them at all. She’d taken something that didn’t belong to her.
She was a jewel thief.
And that was how they’d think of her forever.
&n
bsp; She lay on the bed, the top cover wrapped around her. She wished she could phone her mother and ask her to come and get her, but despite her nagging at Lola to buy her a mobile phone for Christmas, Lola dismissed them as nothing more than expensive toys. There was no way of communicating with her from the sanctuary of her bedroom. And even if she could, what was she going to say? That she’d let herself and Lola down by stealing Astrid’s sapphire ring? Her mother would freak out. She’d tell Bey that she thought she’d brought her up better than that. Before they’d set out that day, she’d begged her to be on her best behaviour and Bey had promised her she would be, because she wanted to prove to her father that they’d done OK without him. She wanted him to know that they hadn’t needed the Warrens behind them to be happy. Which was true. But now his family were probably all thinking that, faced with a bit of Warren glamour, she’d completely lost the plot. They’d think she envied them. That she wanted to be like them. She should have spoken up sooner. She was an idiot.
She sniffed a few times and wiped away her tears. She’d been right not to want to come here today but she wasn’t going to cry like a stupid kid. She’d wait in her bedroom until the morning, when her mother would come and get her, and then she’d drive away with her and never have to see her dad or any of the Warrens again. And that, as far as she was concerned, would be a good thing.
She sat up and took her book from her bag. She was reading the Chalet School stories in paperback editions that had belonged to her mum and her aunt Gretta, and even though they were practically historical, she longed to be at a lovely school in the Alps where the kind-hearted mistresses cared deeply about all the pupils under their care, and where stupid misunderstandings like accidentally robbed jewels were always ironed out. Even the current book, where the girls had to flee Austria before war broke out, seemed a better proposition to Bey than her own circumstances. At least they were all with people who cared about them and were looking after them. She was stuck in a house with people who hated her.
What Happened That Night: The page-turning holiday read by the No. 1 bestselling author Page 14
