by Lollie Barr
‘Maggie, before you get some sort of “beloved leader” complex, you need to take a chill pill, love,’ said Belle. ‘Let me show you some of the layouts I’ve been working on.’
‘I think you mean, we’ve been working on, Belle,’ said Wanda, in the huffiest tone the girls had heard come out of her mouth.
‘Obviously, Wanda,’ said Belle, whose cute little white laptop was the central point of command, where all the files for each individual page were saved. ‘Everyone knows we’ve been working together. I didn’t think I needed to state it every time I speak about the magazine. Anyway, check this out girls, it’s Mand’s body image story.’
‘That looks great,’ said Mand, getting in for a closer squizz. ‘But why have you used a chick with the body size of an undernourished ant for the main picture when the story is about being comfortable with your shape, no matter what size you are?’
‘Well, I did ask you if you wanted to help me spend hours trawling the net looking for free photos,’ said Belle defensively, as she had stayed up until midnight working on the design of the story.
Mand didn’t have a comeback, so she kept silent. The rest of the girls were quiet too, settling in to work. After about an hour of intense concentration, Wanda broke the stifling silence.
‘So has anybody got a date to the formal yet?’ she said, as she sat working with Belle, knitting a scarf with the contraband knitting needles and wool that she had bought in town. ‘Or are we going to be a bunch of old spinsters going alone?’
Belle flushed bright red and didn’t say anything.
‘I think Belle’s the only one with a date,’ said Cat, glaring at her.
‘Really,’ said Wanda. ‘Who is it?’
‘Nate,’ said Cat, with a venomous sneer.
‘Whooooooo!’ said Mand with a little chuckle, even though she knew that Cat would be chewed up inside. ‘You’re going with Nate. What? How? When?’
Belle felt all eyes upon her. ‘He came over with Billy Prince. My dad was meeting Billy’s dad about some business, and Nate came too because Mr Prince had picked the guys up from water polo training. They were having a turn on The Vultron and we got talking, you know, and then last week he sent me a text and asked me.’
‘And how do you feel about that, Cat?’ said Mand, pretty sure she knew exactly how Cat felt. ‘I had high hopes for you and Nate. After all, you were the Romeo and Juliet of Baywood High. Without the suicide bit, of course!’
‘Stop stirring, Mand, okay,’ said Maggie. ‘It is pretty obvious how Cat feels, isn’t it?’
With that Cat burst into tears. ‘You are a complete cow, Mand,’ she sobbed. ‘At every available opportunity you try and make me look like a complete fool.’
‘I was only joking.’ Mand said, feeling guilty. ‘You weren’t together very long, were you? I can’t believe you’re taking it so seriously. Just go and date someone else.’
‘That’s what I said,’ said Belle. ‘You should never get stuck on a guy, especially if he’s not into you. Seriously, Cat.’
‘He’s not just a guy!’ said Cat. ‘He’s, he’s, he’s …’
‘He’s what?’ said Belle.
‘He’s the guy who took my, my, my …’ Cat couldn’t bring herself to say the word, but the others seemed to know what she meant. ‘And then he dumped me by text. Okay! Are you happy now? And I can’t believe I was so stupid. I’m probably already the laughing stock of Baywood High.’
The girls sat in dumbfounded silence. They looked at one another, not knowing what to say. Maggie walked over to Cat and put a gentle arm around her. ‘It’s okay, Cat,’ she said, and that only made Cat sob harder. She hadn’t even told the Us Crew what a bastard Nate had been.
Cat felt mortified. She couldn’t believe that (a) she had blabbed a secret that she had been holding so close for so long, and (b) she was hyperventilating in front of the girls. It felt like a big bucket full of shame had just been dumped upon her head.
‘Oh my god!’ said Belle. ‘I didn’t know.’
‘Of course you didn’t know,’ said Cat bitterly. ‘I don’t know who Nate told but I wasn’t going to broadcast it to the school that the man I thought I loved had got what he wanted and then dumped me. Before that, it was beautiful, I thought it was the real deal, that’s why I … And now he won’t even talk to me.’
The girls all rallied around Cat, even Mand, who now felt like a heartless cow.
‘Men!’ said Wanda. ‘What are they like?
‘I don’t know,’ said Maggie. ‘What are they like?’
‘Jesus, Maggie,’ said Mand. ‘You live with the Jones sisters. Surely they must share their knowledge with you. You must have picked up something, if only by osmosis …’
‘My sisters don’t even know I’m alive, let alone tell me anything about their love lives!’ cried Maggie. ‘I’m four years younger than the youngest one, Lisa, so they’re always having chats without me. Bet will say, “Caro, Lisa, can we talk behind closed doors?” And I’m left with my two-year-old brother Billy, feeling like a little kid. They don’t tell me anything.’
‘Ask them!’ said Cat, who knew all about the Jones sisters, who were, after all, legends. The girls were held up like demigods. They had dated brainiacs, sports stars, tradesmen, an ambulance driver, musicians, older guys, younger guys, hot-yet-dumb guys, smart-but-not-hot guys, players, stayers, hunks, hulks, jocks, nerds – they must know all there was to know about boys.
‘You could interview them and write an article called “What every chick should know about guys”, ’ said Mand.
‘It would be wicked if they were in our magazine!’ said Cat, cheering up a little. ‘The Jones sisters spill the beans on boys.’
‘Well, if you think it would help …’ Maggie was not sure if she really wanted to know the intimate details of her sister’s love lives but she was prepared to talk to them if it made the magazine a winner. ‘Okay, I’ll ask them, but you guys have to help me come up with the questions.’
The girls came up with a list of questions the length of Maggie’s arm, including, ‘When do you know if he’s using you?’, ‘What’s the difference between love and lust?’ and ‘Why do girls who do it get called sluts and guys legends?’
Once all the hoohah had died down, Belle asked Cat to come outside for a chat, in private. They walked out of the office, closed the door, and sat on the cream carpet runner that ran down the grand marble staircase. ‘Look, Cat, I don’t have to go to the formal with Nate,’ said Belle. ‘I really am genuinely sorry that he treated you so appallingly. I know you’ve had a rough time lately.’
‘Do what you want, Belle,’ said Cat. ‘I’m glad I’ve been honest. But at least now you know, you can make up your own mind about Nate. Maybe it was just timing with him, I don’t know. But the fact he refused to even talk to me, it just hurt so much.’
‘Yes, I guess it would,’ said Belle, who kept her virginity tucked tightly under her pillow. ‘I would hate his guts if I were you, so why do you still love him?’
‘I don’t know if I do,’ admitted Cat, finally questioning how she really felt about Nate. ‘Maybe I just wanted to salvage something. I wanted my first time to be special, but it wasn’t. But weirdly, I feel better that I don’t have to carry this secret around anymore. You won’t say anything, will you?’
‘Nah, of course not, and neither will the others,’ said Belle, who was going to make the others swear not to utter a word, particularly Mand. ‘Promise.’
Just then Cat’s mobile, which was in the front pocket of her pink utility dress, started to vibrate and ring out with a hip-hop tune which reverberated all around the house, making Mrs Biggins pop her head out of the kitchen to find out what all the racket was.
Cat pulled the phone out of her pocket and looked at the screen; it was an unknown caller.
‘Hello, Cat Dean speaking.’
‘Hello, Cat. This is Felix, Tyler Grey’s assistant. Sorry I’ve been so elusive. Tyler’s schedule has been
crazy but he is making an appearance on the Saturday Night Show with David Jay tonight. So, if you’re at Channel 19 at 6.30 pm, you can have your interview.’
‘Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,’ said Cat, holding the phone away from her. ‘Okay, that’s great Felix,’ she said into the mouthpiece when she’d regained her composure. ‘I’ll be there. Of course, I’ll be bringing my photographer.’
‘Sure,’ said Felix. ‘Who’s going to shoot it?’
‘Corabelle Askew,’ said Cat, looking at a puzzle-faced Belle, who didn’t have a clue what was going on. ‘Have you heard of her? She’s fabulous. Does everybody who’s worth doing!’
‘Okay, I’ll leave your names with the security guards at the boom gate and they’ll issue you with passes. See you at 5.30,’ said Felix, and hung up.
It is amazing how the future can change your mood in an instant. One minute Cat was spewing out her feelings about Nate, the next she had secured an interview with the hottest TV star in the country. ‘I’ve got the Tyler Grey interview!’ said Cat, holding out her hands, watching them shake. ‘Look, I’m shaking! Wow, man! Wow! I said you’ll be shooting it!’
‘Brilliant! Cool!’ said Belle. ‘That’s so wicked. Let’s go tell the others!’
‘No, let’s keep it a surprise,’ said Cat. ‘I want to do the interview and then I’ll just present them with the written article and the photographs. They’ll flip out!’
The girls walked back into the office and there was a really industrious vibe going on, as there were only three weeks left to finish the magazine. Belle turned up the music and the girls all got on with their respective jobs with a renewed energy now the earlier tension had been defused. Then the door opened and in bounced Reanne.
‘Wow,’ she said. ‘Such a hive of activity. I remember when –’
‘Yeah, Reanne,’ said Belle. ‘We’re kind of busy at the moment.’
‘Yeah, me too,’ said Reanne. ‘I’m kind of organising a wedding, just in case you’ve forgotten. I don’t think you’ve asked me a word about it.’
‘What’s there to say?’ said Belle sarcastically. ‘You and your Poo-Poo are going to live happily ever after and I’m delighted? And thanks for the offer of being a flower girl but I would rather stick pins in my eyes than follow you up the aisle.’
‘I asked you to be my bridesmaid, actually,’ said Reanne looking like she was going to burst into tears. ‘You can be a rude cow sometimes, Corabelle, you really can’.
‘Deal with it,’ said Belle.
All the girls pretended not to hear and kept working as Reanne stormed off down the stairs, slamming the office door shut behind her.
When Maggie asked her three older sisters whether they wouldn’t mind coming for a chat behind closed doors, they were intrigued. Closed-door chats were a regular thing at the Jones house, but Maggie’s presence or opinion was never required. Being so much older, Bet, Caro and Lisa had never taken the time to bond with their younger sibling – if she’d been interested in what they were interested in, well, that would have been a start, but they never seemed to have much in common with Maggie. Her sisters liked football (well, they didn’t really, they liked dating footballers). Maggie hated sport. The girls loved gossip rags; Maggie liked thick books. The girls liked to be the centre of Baywood gossip and know everything that was going on; Maggie found gossip annoyingly trivial.
So when she requested the chat, the girls were desperate to find out why. They huddled together, discussing the possibilities. Could it be a boy problem at long last? An eating disorder perhaps – she was, after all, very thin. A raging drug problem? A shameful confession? Was she a kleptomaniac? A lesbian? An alien? (This was a bit far-fetched but Caro sometimes did think that Maggie had other-worldly tendencies.)
The thing was, Maggie lived in her own self-contained universe; she didn’t share her thoughts, so her feelings always remained private, which meant the girls really didn’t know their sister at all. When she was thirteen and had to have her appendix out – she didn’t tell her Mum she had a stomach ache for two whole days. Or when she won the short story competition at school for her story about a girl whose drug-addicted brother died before she told him she loved him, and she didn’t even tell her family.
There just didn’t seem space for her. Maggie couldn’t be bothered competing with her sisters or little Billy for attention, so she would take refuge in a book to tune out the rabble.
After dinner on Thursday evening Bet, Caro and Lisa were all sitting on Lisa’s bed, gagging with anticipation.
‘Okay, spill the beans,’ said Bet, with the smile of a drama queen just about to get her drama fix. ‘We’ve been dying to know what’s going on.’
‘Well, you know how I’m working on this magazine project …’ Maggie took out the notebook with the girls’ questions in it, and set up her MP3 player to record the conversation.
‘What magazine project?’ asked Lisa.
‘For school. We’ve got to invent a magazine for our English class and the winning magazine will be distributed around Baywood.’
‘Is that what this little chat is about?’ said Bet, a clear edge of disappointment in her voice. ‘To talk about your school work? I know you’re not invited to closed-door chats, but really, to call a closed-door chat, you know, you’re supposed to have a problem or something. We could have spoken about this anywhere in the house.’
‘Not exactly,’ said Maggie, feeling the heat of her nervous rash creeping up her neckline.
‘Get to the point, Maggie,’ said Caro impatiently. ‘I’ve got a million things to organise for my wedding.’
‘Here we go again. The wedding!’ said Bet. ‘Does every conversation in this house have to begin and end with your wedding?’
‘If you’re looking to start another fight,’ said Caro, ‘then I’m ready!’
‘Anyway Maggie,’ said Lisa, trying to avert another bust-up, especially in her room because, knowing her sisters, they could start hair pulling and sending her things flying if order wasn’t restored. ‘What did you want to talk about?’
‘Boys …’ said Maggie. ‘The girls in my group were talking and we realised that most of us didn’t have a clue when it came to boys. So we decided to write an article about it. They all reckon that you girls are legends in Baywood, and because you’re older you may be able to come up with some answers, so we don’t all have to go through the same heartbreak.’
‘That’s hysterical!’ said Bet, smiling and relaxing onto the pink pillows on Lisa’s bed. ‘We’re legends in Baywood, girls! Did they really use the word legend?’
‘Yeah,’ said Maggie, who knew flattery could get you anywhere with her sisters.
‘Boys are our favourite subject,’ said Lisa. ‘If I can save any teenager the heartbreak I had to go through. Do you remember Oliver Adams? My god …’
Over the next hour and a half, the girls regaled Maggie with stories from their teenage days. How Bet lost her virginity at fifteen and three quarters to that dickhead Darren Davies. It was horrendous and she wasn’t sure they’d even done it, but he proceeded to tell the whole school anyway. How Caro had spent two years obsessing over Gary Philpot only to find out he was gay. How Danny McAdams had cheated on Lisa with her then best friend Keren Best, who Lisa slapped across the face in Hoolio’s, leaving a clear handprint across her chops. Every question from The Mag Hag list elicited an anecdote; the stories came thick and fast until Caro turned to Maggie and said, ‘What about you and boys, sis? Have you ever been on a date?’
‘Who’d want to date me?’ said Maggie. ‘Look at me. I’m five foot eleven with a neck like a giraffe. I’m flat-chested and rail thin. I’m hardly on the average teenage boy’s hot list.’
‘You’re actually very attractive,’ said Lisa. ‘We’ve always said that you are going to be the most stunning of us all.’
‘If you’re being sarcastic …’ said Maggie, her bottom lip trembling like an autumn leaf that was about to fall off a tree. ‘Car
o said I couldn’t be in the bridal party because I’m such a freak.’
‘Really?’ said Lisa, looking like she was about to rip Caro’s head off. ‘Caro, did you really say that?’
‘Well, not exactly,’ said Caro. ‘I just said that if Maggie was a bridesmaid, she would make Roddie look really short.’
‘That’s because he is really short,’ said Bet, who was just looking for a reason to have a go at Caro. ‘It’s not Maggie’s fault she’s so tall. You can be such an insensitive bloody bitch sometimes!’
‘Who are you calling a bitch, you cow?’ said Caro, just as Maggie’s mother, barged into the room.
‘Mum, it’s a closed-door chat!’ said Lisa, like she was citing the Geneva Convention.
‘I’m sick of this fighting in my house,’ said Dario, her hands covering her ears. ‘If this is about the wedding again, I’ll go bloody mad …’
‘Caro won’t let Maggie be a bridesmaid because she reckons she’ll make Roddie look like a shortarse,’ said Bet with a self-righteous sneer.
‘Caro isn’t getting married for at least two years!’ said Dario. ‘And I’m not having two years of arguments in this house. And Caro, if you don’t have Maggie as a bridesmaid because she’s tall, I won’t be at your wedding.’
‘Neither will I,’ said Lisa, her face red with indignation.
‘Nor me,’ said Bet, who was secretly pleased that Caro was copping so much heat.
‘Why is everybody ganging up on me?’ said Caro. ‘All I want to do is get married!’
By that stage, it didn’t matter to Maggie whether she was a bridesmaid or not, because in two years’ time, if all went to plan, she would be in the land of the tall people, Holland, on an exchange program, where the average height of a woman was five foot seven and doorframes were made higher so tall people didn’t have to stoop. And people wouldn’t state the bloody obvious that, ‘Yes, Maggie is tall for a girl’ and Maggie wouldn’t continously have to say, ‘No, the weather is no different up here than it is down there, you short little cretin!’ Her life in Deadwood would just be a distant memory.
