The New Girl by Nora Valters

The New Girl by Nora Valters

Author:Nora Valters [Valters, Nora]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-02-21T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter 15

The strange noise comes again. I glance at Margie. But she hasn’t seemed to notice, too busy trying to open a sachet of wasabi.

We sit across from one another in a café in the middle of a busy shopping centre. It’s not the kind of place that I would pick, but Margie said it had ‘surprisingly good sushi’. And, surprisingly, it does. We’re just finishing up our large sushi platter for two.

Pete and I were meant to be going out today to do some January sales shopping, but he messaged me this morning to say that he had lots of things he needed to do for his dad’s party and couldn’t make it. I know it’s because he’s still upset about last night’s phone incident at the bar.

I messaged Margie to see if she fancied it. She did.

We’ve got a table right in the centre of the café, shopping bags tucked around us. Margie insisted on getting me a new outfit for my birthday, which is in a few days. But not just clothes, she got me shoes, makeup, and perfume – the same Dior one she was wearing last night.

“I love spending money on others, and it’s for a special occasion so let me treat you,” she’d insisted as we entered the first shop this morning. And treat me she has.

“Did you hear that?” I ask Margie, urgently.

Margie pauses her battle with the sachet and listens. “Hear what?”

I shake my head. “Oh, nothing,” I say.

But it comes again. Laughter. Not any old laughter, it’s my laughter. As if it’s an echo of me laughing. Except I’m not laughing right now.

The open café sits in the atrium area of the vast shopping centre. It’s a cavernous space with escalators, a glass lift, the open sides of three floors and a high glass roof. It’s echoey and noisy. There are people everywhere. The café is full, and the shops are heaving with bargain hunters.

“My laughter. Can you hear it?” I ask Margie.

She frowns at me. “But you’re not laughing, my dear.”

I point upward. “There! Can you hear that? It sounds just like me.”

Margie listens, but then shakes her head slowly. “No, I don’t think I can hear your laughter.”

I scan around us, and my skin crawls. Eyes are on me. Someone somewhere is watching me, I’m sure of it. I feel as if I’m in the middle of a fishbowl. The café is open on all sides. Exposed. Someone looking over the railing on the top floor could see us. We’re surrounded by others eating, walking from shop to shop, chatting, waiting in queues at fresh juice or bubble tea counters. I search out ginger hair, two faces the same. But don’t see anything. The entire vast space swirls in and out of focus.

Light-headed, I put down my chopsticks and nudge my plate away, no longer hungry. The soy sauce has left a salty film over my gums and tongue, and my mouth tastes vile. I gulp back some water, rub my eyes and shudder.



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