مهمونی دیگه

Chapter thirteen

Another party

I couldn’t sleep that night.

I lay in bed with my eyes open, thinking and thinking. Did George take my things? Was Tom right? Did George just want my money and my passport?

But then I thought of his beautiful smile. I thought of his kiss. I thought of all the times we talked. George wanted to help people. He wanted to make things better for people. George was not a thief. I knew he wasn’t.

At last, I fell asleep at about four o’clock in the morning.

The next few days were terrible. I went to work and, when I got home, I tried to phone George. But he didn’t answer.

‘Perhaps I could go to his flat,’ I thought. His address was at the top of the letter he sent me. ‘But perhaps he doesn’t want me to find him.’

On Friday evening my phone rang. I answered it quickly. I thought it was George.

‘Hi Nancy, it’s Harriet. We’re back from our holiday. It was wonderful. Paris is so beautiful!

‘Good,’ I said. ‘I’m happy for you.’

‘Are you still coming to our party tonight, Nancy?’ she asked.

‘Oh, I don’t know, Harriet.’ I forgot she was having a party.

‘What’s wrong, Nancy? You sound terrible.’

It was good to hear Harriet’s kind voice, but I still felt bad. I told her about my flat, and George.

‘Oh! Poor, poor Nancy,’ she said. ‘I can’t believe it! That’s terrible. But are you sure it was George?’

‘No. I don’t believe it was George! But the police think it was him.’

‘You tried phoning him?’ she asked.

‘Yes. He’s not answering.’

‘What about his flat? Do you have his address?’

‘Yes, but I don’t think he wants to see me. He knows where I am. Where is he? Why isn’t he here?’

‘Nancy, we’ll just have to wait and see. I know it’s hard for you. But you can’t be by yourself after this. You need to be with people. Come to the party, please,’ said Harriet.

‘I really don’t feel like a party,’ I replied.

‘Oh, come on, Nancy. It’ll make you feel better.’

I didn’t want to go to a party, but Harriet was right. I didn’t want to be by myself.

So that evening, I got the bus to Harriet’s house.

She opened the door and put her arms around me.

‘Have some champagne,’ she said. ‘You need something to make you feel better.’

‘Thanks, Harriet,’ I said.

She gave me a drink in the kitchen. I went into the sitting room. It was full of people.

Everybody was smiling and laughing and talking. I felt more alone than ever.

‘Perhaps I’ll go home,’ I thought, when someone said my name.