Read Online I've Got Your Number by Sophie Kinsella - Free Book Online
Authors: Sophie Kinsella
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cheery self. “Aquamarine satin. It’s lush.”
“Sounds amazing!” I get up and reach for the Costa coffee tray. “Is one of these for me?”
“I got you a flat white,” says Annalise grudgingly. “With nutmeg.”
As I take it, Ruby gives a small gasp. “Poppy! Haven’t you found your ring?”
I look up to see both Annalise and Ruby staring at my left hand.
“No,” I admit reluctantly. “I mean, I’m sure it’ll turn up somewhere.”
“Shit.” Annalise has a hand over her mouth.
“I thought you found it.” Ruby is frowning. “I’m sure somebody said you’d found it.”
“No. Not yet.”
I’m really not enjoying their reaction. Neither of them is saying “Not to worry” or “These things happen.” They both look horrified, even Ruby.
“So, what will you do?” Ruby’s brows are knitted.
“What did Magnus say?” chips in Annalise.
“I …” I take a gulp of flat white, playing for time. “I haven’t told him yet.”
“Sheeesh,” Ruby exhales.
“How much is it worth?” Trust Annalise to ask all the questions I don’t want to think about.
“Quite a bit, I suppose. I mean, there’s always insurance….” I trail off lamely.
“When are you planning to tell Magnus?” Ruby has her disapproving face on. I hate that face. It makes me feel small and mortified. Like that awful time she caught me giving ultrasound and texting at the same time. 27 Ruby is someone you just instinctively want to impress.
“Tonight. Neither of you guys has seen it, have you?” I can’t help asking, even though it’s ridiculous, like they’ll suddenly say, “Oh yes, it’s in my bag!”
They both shrug no. Even Annalise is looking sorry for me.
Oh God. This is really bad.
By six o’clock it’s even worse. Annalise has Googled emerald rings.
Did I ask her to do this? No. I did not. Magnus has never told me how much the ring is worth. I asked him, jokingly, when he first put it on my finger, and he joked back that it was priceless, just like me. It was all very romantic and lovely. We were having dinner at Bluebird, and I had no idea he was going to propose. None. 28
Anyway, the point is, I never knew what the ring cost and I never wanted to know. At the back of my mind I keep trying out lines to Magnus, like, “Well, I didn’t realize it was so valuable! You should have told me!”
Not that I’d have the nerve to say that. I mean, how dumb would you have to be not to realize that an emerald out of a bank vault is worth something? Still, it’s been quite comforting not to have a precise figure in my head.
But now here’s Annalise, brandishing a sheet of paper she’s printed out from the Internet. 29
“Art deco, fine-quality emerald, with baguette diamonds,” she’s reading out. “Estimate twenty-five thousand pounds.”
What? My insides turn to jelly. That can’t be right.
“He wouldn’t have given me anything that expensive.” My voice is a bit shaky. “Academics are poor .”
“He’s not poor! Look at his house! His dad’s a celebrity! Look, this one’s thirty grand.” She holds up another sheet. “It looks exactly like yours. Don’t you think, Ruby?”
I can’t look.
“I never would have let it off my finger,” Annalise adds, arching her eyebrows, and I almost want to hit her.
“ You’re the one who wanted to try it on!” I say furiously. “If it hadn’t been for you, I’d still have it!”
“No, I wasn’t!” she retorts indignantly. “I just tried it on when everyone else did! It was already going round the table.”
“Well, whose idea was it, then?”
I’ve been racking my brains about this again—but if my memory was hazy yesterday, it’s even worse today.
I’m never going to believe a Poirot mystery again. Never. All those witnesses going, “Yes, I remember it was 3:06 p.m. exactly, because I glanced at the clock as I reached for the sugar tongs, and Lady Favisham was quite clearly sitting on the right-hand side of the
“Sounds amazing!” I get up and reach for the Costa coffee tray. “Is one of these for me?”
“I got you a flat white,” says Annalise grudgingly. “With nutmeg.”
As I take it, Ruby gives a small gasp. “Poppy! Haven’t you found your ring?”
I look up to see both Annalise and Ruby staring at my left hand.
“No,” I admit reluctantly. “I mean, I’m sure it’ll turn up somewhere.”
“Shit.” Annalise has a hand over her mouth.
“I thought you found it.” Ruby is frowning. “I’m sure somebody said you’d found it.”
“No. Not yet.”
I’m really not enjoying their reaction. Neither of them is saying “Not to worry” or “These things happen.” They both look horrified, even Ruby.
“So, what will you do?” Ruby’s brows are knitted.
“What did Magnus say?” chips in Annalise.
“I …” I take a gulp of flat white, playing for time. “I haven’t told him yet.”
“Sheeesh,” Ruby exhales.
“How much is it worth?” Trust Annalise to ask all the questions I don’t want to think about.
“Quite a bit, I suppose. I mean, there’s always insurance….” I trail off lamely.
“When are you planning to tell Magnus?” Ruby has her disapproving face on. I hate that face. It makes me feel small and mortified. Like that awful time she caught me giving ultrasound and texting at the same time. 27 Ruby is someone you just instinctively want to impress.
“Tonight. Neither of you guys has seen it, have you?” I can’t help asking, even though it’s ridiculous, like they’ll suddenly say, “Oh yes, it’s in my bag!”
They both shrug no. Even Annalise is looking sorry for me.
Oh God. This is really bad.
By six o’clock it’s even worse. Annalise has Googled emerald rings.
Did I ask her to do this? No. I did not. Magnus has never told me how much the ring is worth. I asked him, jokingly, when he first put it on my finger, and he joked back that it was priceless, just like me. It was all very romantic and lovely. We were having dinner at Bluebird, and I had no idea he was going to propose. None. 28
Anyway, the point is, I never knew what the ring cost and I never wanted to know. At the back of my mind I keep trying out lines to Magnus, like, “Well, I didn’t realize it was so valuable! You should have told me!”
Not that I’d have the nerve to say that. I mean, how dumb would you have to be not to realize that an emerald out of a bank vault is worth something? Still, it’s been quite comforting not to have a precise figure in my head.
But now here’s Annalise, brandishing a sheet of paper she’s printed out from the Internet. 29
“Art deco, fine-quality emerald, with baguette diamonds,” she’s reading out. “Estimate twenty-five thousand pounds.”
What? My insides turn to jelly. That can’t be right.
“He wouldn’t have given me anything that expensive.” My voice is a bit shaky. “Academics are poor .”
“He’s not poor! Look at his house! His dad’s a celebrity! Look, this one’s thirty grand.” She holds up another sheet. “It looks exactly like yours. Don’t you think, Ruby?”
I can’t look.
“I never would have let it off my finger,” Annalise adds, arching her eyebrows, and I almost want to hit her.
“ You’re the one who wanted to try it on!” I say furiously. “If it hadn’t been for you, I’d still have it!”
“No, I wasn’t!” she retorts indignantly. “I just tried it on when everyone else did! It was already going round the table.”
“Well, whose idea was it, then?”
I’ve been racking my brains about this again—but if my memory was hazy yesterday, it’s even worse today.
I’m never going to believe a Poirot mystery again. Never. All those witnesses going, “Yes, I remember it was 3:06 p.m. exactly, because I glanced at the clock as I reached for the sugar tongs, and Lady Favisham was quite clearly sitting on the right-hand side of the
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