Angel Kiss - Laura Jane Cassidy [66]
And, as if I didn’t have enough to worry about, I had absolutely nothing to wear to Mary’s party. I hadn’t packed any fancy clothes and had already worn everything in my suitcase about ten times. I was in desperate need of some company, so I headed for Lydia’s shop.
I flopped down on the stool in Lydia’s workshop. It was the messiest I’d ever seen it. I wondered how she was able to work in such chaos, but it didn’t seem to bother her. She finished steaming a lilac dress, then turned to me.
‘Right,’ she said, ‘my next project is a midnight blue bubble dress. So, The Clash or Bowie?’ Lydia held one CD in each hand.
I wasn’t really paying attention.
‘Well …?’ she said.
‘Sorry, I’m a bit distracted.’
‘What’s up?’ she asked.
‘Everything. I’m supposed to help someone and I’m doing a terrible job, the guy I like hates me and I have nothing to wear to Mary’s party tonight. Mum was supposed to bring me shopping but she didn’t have time.’
‘Well,’ said Lydia, putting down the CDs, ‘I can only help you with one of those things. But luckily it happens to be the most important one.’
‘Thanks, Lydia, but I can’t really afford one of your dresses. I’ll just –’
‘You can borrow one,’ said Lydia. She bounced out of the workshop and weaved through the racks.
‘Oh … no, it’s OK.’
‘Jacki, we’re friends, right? Friends borrow each other’s clothes. Now stop whining and pick something out!’
I smiled for the first time all day. ‘Wow, are you sure? Thanks, you’re a life-saver.’ I liked that I could just be myself with Lydia. The big age difference didn’t seem to matter.
‘I think this short black one would look gorgeous on you,’ said Lydia, taking it off the rack.
‘I suppose I could have borrowed something of Carla’s,’ I said. ‘But we’re not really the same size.’
‘Carla Mulvey? I didn’t realize you were close with her.’
‘I’m not really. But we’re staying in the Mulveys’ house.’
‘How come? Is there something up?’ she asked.
She slipped the black dress off the beaded hanger and gave it to me.
‘Mum is worried about Des. She’s a little bit scared of him ever since she found out he was a suspect in Beth Cullen’s murder.’
‘I don’t think it’s Des she should be worried about,’ said Lydia.
‘What do you mean?’ I said.
‘Nothing … I just have a feeling that Des didn’t kill Beth. I don’t think Rachel should be worried about him.’
‘How can you be sure?’ I said, unbuttoning the back of the dress.
‘Trust me. I’m sure,’ said Lydia.
‘But how?’
‘I just know he didn’t do it.’
Lydia showed me the zip in the side of the dress. I stepped behind the folding screen and took off my T-shirt and shorts.
‘Do you have any idea who did it?’ I said, putting the black dress on over my head.
‘Not a clue,’ said Lydia.
‘You know how you talked with her the afternoon she went missing?’ I said. ‘Do you remember anything strange? Did she mention she was fighting with Des?’ Standing behind the screen seemed to give me a false sense of courage. It was easier to ask Lydia these questions when I didn’t have to see her face. I felt bad. It was probably upsetting for her to talk about Beth, but I needed more information to piece together.
‘How do you know I talked with her? Where did you hear that? Did the Mulveys say something to you?’
‘No. I just overheard you talking to Mary in the pub the other night … I heard you mention something about having a fight. Sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I was sitting nearby and I’d only just heard the story about Beth so I couldn’t help listening …’
‘We did have a fight, yes.’
I stepped out from behind the screen, adjusting the dress’s straps.
‘That looks gorgeous on you,’ said Lydia, her voice sounded a little deflated now.
‘Thanks,’ I said, feeling guilty.
Lydia sat down on her chair. I knew she didn’t want to talk about this, but time was running out. I needed to find out what had