‘Ooh, get you,’ he replies. ‘Date night with the hubby?’
Suddenly the truth sounds so bad, when I think about saying it out loud.
‘No, we lost the band for the fundraiser,’ I reply. ‘So, we were going to check out the only other one available.’
‘You and Christian?’ he says.
‘Yeah.’
Marco thinks to himself for a moment before he snaps back to his usual jokey self.
‘Well, if they’re the only other band available, you’ll have to book them anyway, won’t you?’ he points out with a smile. ‘At least you’ve got a party to go to now – you look amazing.’
‘You’re not looking so bad yourself,’ I point out.
Marco is wearing a pair of jeans and a black shirt, which is his version of making an effort, and he smells incredible, from his aftershave right down to his shampoo.
‘Thanks,’ he replies. ‘Right, you drive, I’m going to give you directions to where she is.’
I glance at Marco, who is staring down at his phone screen.
‘Oh my God, is that how fast you can hack into someone’s social media account?’ I ask, a little alarmed, suddenly concerned about everything from my Instagram account to the MySpace page I had as a teenager, that I never actually shut down.
He just laughs.
‘No, my nephew is going,’ he replies.
‘Josh?’ I squeak.
‘No, my other nephew.’ He laughs. ‘Tom. He’s in Millie’s year.’
‘Shit, I didn’t know you had a teenager on your plate too,’ I reply.
‘He’s all right, bit of a nerd too. We mostly just play COD together,’ he says. ‘He said he was going out with his friends tonight – I figured he’d be going to the party.’
‘And you think he’s just going to tell his nerdy uncle where it is?’ I ask in disbelief.
‘Ouch!’ he replies. ‘Of course, I don’t think he’ll tell me, but I do have him added on Snapchat, and the youth of today are very stupid. They share their real-time location with their friends. Tom is currently showing up as at his friend’s house – I know it because I’ve dropped him there before. So, let’s head there and either follow them to the party, if we can, or wait for his location to update once he gets there.’
‘God, you’re amazing,’ I tell him. ‘It’s kind of scary.’
‘Thanks,’ he replies. ‘Now, come on, let’s go – this is weirdly exciting.’
‘This is definitely the fun part,’ I reply. ‘It’s not going to be pretty when I find Millie.’
‘What are you going to do?’ Marco asks.
‘I’m going to embarrass her so hard she’ll spend the next year in her room trying to work out how to change her identity,’ I reply. ‘Millie has been walking all over Emma for too long. I’m going to go in there and – maybe I’ll grab a drink? Maybe I’ll get up on a table and dance?’
‘That poor girl,’ Marco replies with a chuckle. ‘As much as I’d love to see you dance on a table, she’s going to be traumatised.’
I smile to myself.
We’re not far from Tom’s friend’s house when Marco tells me that his location has updated again.
‘We’re really close,’ Marco says. ‘Just a left here, up this road…’
As we drive uphill the houses become more spaced out, until we’re driving up a road completely surrounded by trees. Eventually we start passing parked cars that have ‘rich teenager’ written all over them leading to the mansion at the top of the road. It’s a Victorian gothic-looking building that would be dark and gloomy were it not for the party going on indoors. The music is so loud we can hear it from inside the car and every window seems to be glowing a different colour.
‘This isn’t a teenagers’ house party,’ Marco says. ‘This is a Playboy Mansion house party.’
‘Exactly the kind of place you want your underage niece to be,’ I say sarcastically. ‘Oh, shit, that’s her boyfriend’s car.’
I recognise it – how could I not? It’s lime green after all.
‘You know what the best thing about having a massive car is?’ I say as I park up. ‘Blocking people in.’
‘Nice,’ Marco says. ‘He’s not going anywhere until you do.’
We get out of the car and walk up the drive, through the large front garden and into the house.
The place is in full-on party mode, with people absolutely everywhere, and I mean everywhere. In the hallway, sitting on the stairs – any room we walk into is just full of party-goers, drinking, dancing, kissing…
It’s mostly young people, and by that I suppose I mean twenties and teens, which makes me feel incredibly old all of a sudden.
We make our way to the kitchen and just spend a minute or two taking it all in.
‘This is actually kind of bleak,’ Marco says.
‘For them or for us?’ I reply.
‘Both,’ he says. ‘Have you recognised a single song that has played since we got here?’
‘No,’ I admit. ‘And I feel like we stand out a mile – do you think we do?’
‘You don’t,’ he says. ‘Not dressed like that.’
‘Thanks,’ I reply. I’m sure he’s just being nice. ‘I have no idea how to figure this one out…’
I sigh.
‘Hey,’ Marco says, flagging down the nearest party-goer.
It’s a girl – in her late teens, maybe her early twenties – who is basically wearing fishnet everything.
‘Oh, hi,’ she says. She plays with a piece of her hair with one hand and walks the other up Marco’s chest. ‘Do you wanna dance with me?’
‘Do you know Millie Cooper?’ Marco asks her, ignoring her question.
The girl just shakes her head.
‘OK, thanks,’ he says. ‘Ella, let’s go.’
‘Rushing off?’ I tease as I follow Marco back into the hallway. ‘You were in, there.’
‘Yeah, well, if I ever want to end up on a list, I know where to go,’ he replies.
‘Hey, girl,’ a random boy says to me.
‘You were in, there,’ Marco teases me as I quickly shuffle away, mocking my voice.
The atmosphere here really is depressing. Considering it’s a party, I just feel kind of sorry for everyone, which I suppose says more about me. I swear, at the start of the year, I would have said that this was my scene, but all I want to do is grab Millie and go home.
‘What do we do? Do we split up?’ I suggest. ‘Try to cover more ground?’
‘Look, there’s Tom,’ Marco says. ‘Let’s go ruin his night.’
‘’Sup?’ Marco says as he approaches his nephew with a fist bump.
‘What the fuck?’ his nephew replies. ‘What are you doing here?’
He looks past Marco and spots me. It takes him a few seconds to recognise me as Emma. When he does his jaw drops.
‘Here’s what’s going to happen,’ Marco tells Tom as he drapes an arm around him.
The two friends he was standing chatting with are already giving him a wide berth, now that they’ve realised we’re basically parents.
‘I’m going to pretend I didn’t see you here,’ Marco starts. He notices the beer in Tom’s hand. ‘Can I have some of that? Thanks. So, I pretend I didn’t see you here and in return for my silence you’re going to tell us where we can find Millie Cooper, and then you’re going to go home. Sound good?’
Tom sighs.
‘I thought you were cool,’ Tom tells him.
‘You were way off the mark with that one, pal,’ Marco replies. ‘So, Millie, you seen her?’
‘She went upstairs with Eddie,’ he says.
‘Eddie?’ I chime in.
‘Yeah, I guess he’s her boyfriend,’ Tom replies. ‘Can I go before someone sees me talking to you?’
‘OK, go on,’ Marco says. He only lets Tom get a few steps away from him before he calls after him. ‘Love you.’
‘Love you,’ everyone in the room joins in, roaring with laughter.
‘That’s how you embarrass them,’ Marco tells me, swigging his beer.
‘Noted,’ I reply with a smile, but it quickly drops. ‘She’s upstairs with him…’
‘Come on, let’s go,’ Marco says. ‘It’s going to be fine.’
We have to step over a couple practically shagging on the stairs, which makes me worry even more about what we’re going to find upstairs. We begin searching the hallway before looking inside the rooms with doors open.
‘Jesus, some of them don’t even close the doors,’ Marco says, quickly closing the door in front of him with a horrified look on his face.
‘How are we going to do this?’ I ask. ‘We can’t just barge in the closed rooms.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ve got an idea,’ Marco tells me.
He walks up to one of the closed doors and gives it a knock.
‘Yo, Eddie,’ he says, in his best cool guy voice.
‘Wrong room, man,’ a voice calls back.
‘Smart,’ I tell him.
‘Thanks,’ he replies with a smile.
He repeats the procedure at a couple of other rooms with no luck.
‘Yo, Eddie,’ he calls through the door of another.
‘Occupied,’ a girl calls back.
‘That’s not Millie’s voice,’ I say. ‘And there’s only one door left.’
‘OK, here we go… Yo, Eddie,’ Marco shouts.
‘What? Can you come back later, man? I’m busy,’ he replies.
‘Cover up, we’re coming in,’ Marco calls back.
He gives them a second before he opens the door.
‘What the hell do you think you’re playing at?’ I say, as the two of them scramble to pull the covers up over themselves.
‘What the fuck?’ Eddie says, clearly very annoyed at us for interrupting.
That’s when I realise the girl in bed with him isn’t Millie. She’s older than Millie – probably more like Eddie’s age – and she doesn’t look happy.
‘Who the fuck are you?’ she asks.
‘Who the fuck am I?’ I reply as I wonder what to say.
What do I say?
‘I’m Edward’s mum,’ I lie. ‘He forgot his anti-diarrhoea medication. I thought I’d better bring it.’
‘You’re not my mum,’ he says angrily before turning to his lady friend. ‘She’s not my mum.’
The girl looks Eddie up and down.
‘We’ll give you guys some space and leave your medication outside the door,’ Marco tells him as he ushers me out of the room.
‘If he’s in there with her, then where has Millie gone?’ I say.
‘There’s still places we haven’t checked. Come on, maybe Tom was mistaken – he definitely seemed a bit drunk.’
‘Will you tell his parents?’ I ask.
‘Nah,’ Marco replies. ‘But he’ll be so scared that I’m going to, it’ll make sure he behaves, at least for a while.’
At the top of the large staircase there are two sets of double doors that open out onto a terrace where people are smoking.
‘Come on, it’s worth a look,’ Marco says.
The smokers are huddled together, gathered under heat lamps to keep warm. It only takes us a couple of minutes to realise she isn’t there, but as I glance down into the back garden, I notice a girl sitting on the side of the fountain.
I narrow my eyes.
‘Is that…? That’s her,’ I say. ‘Oh, thank God.’
I recognise her blonde hair and the hot-pink coat she always wears – which I’ll bet Emma absolutely didn’t want her to have.
‘Perhaps this is a job for just her mum,’ Marco says. ‘I’ll get going.’
‘It’s not too late, you still have plenty of time for your date,’ I point out.
‘Yeah, I’ll grab a taxi,’ he replies. ‘Good luck with your girl.’
Marco gives me a reassuring hug and, I swear, if I didn’t need to go and talk to Millie, I wouldn’t ever want him to let me go. I feel so safe in his arms, and I feel as if he was telling the truth earlier, when he said he’d always have my back.
We say goodbye at the front door before I venture back through the house, to find a way into the back garden.
As I spot Millie by the fountain, I take a deep breath before heading over there.
I’m just hoping I’ll know what to say and do by the time I get there because right now, I have no idea.
37
There is a large circular stone fountain in the centre of the patio. The water feature isn’t turned on but the lights are. It’s beautiful – and bigger than the living room of the flat I burned down.
Millie is sitting on the edge, facing away from the house, looking down a garden that is so long it genuinely fades to black.
It’s obviously too cold for everyone else out here, which I imagine is why she’s here. She must be freezing because the first thing I notice is that she’s hugging her legs. The second thing I notice is that she’s crying.
As she wipes her nose on the back of her hand, she must notice me out of the corner of her eye, which makes her jump. She practically jumps a second time when she realises it’s me.
‘Mum,’ she blurts, hurriedly wiping her eyes.
Her surprise to see me turns into fear, having been caught red-handed.
‘What’s going on with you, Millie?’ I ask sympathetically, sitting down behind her. As I sit down my super-short skirt rides up and the bare skin above my stockings (because my sister is too fancy for full gusset, apparently) touches the cold stone. I quickly stand up again, and sit back down closer to the edge, so my skirt goes some way to shielding me from the chill.
‘I’m sorry,’ she says softly. ‘I shouldn’t have come. Can we just go?’
‘Sure, we can go,’ I tell her. ‘I’m not going to say I’m not upset that you lied – not to mention low-key terrified about the ease with which you did it – but I’m worried about you more than anything right now.’
Millie sniffs hard.
‘I’m fine,’ she insists.
‘Right, well, I obviously don’t believe that,’ I tell her. ‘What happened with Eddie?’
As soon as I say his name Millie spins around in one swift movement. She stares at me, freaked out, as if I’m reading her mind.
‘Nothing,’ she says.
‘I know he’s your boyfriend,’ I tell her. ‘I saw the two of you kissing. I know he’s here – I know he’s upstairs in a bedroom with another girl, and I’m pretty sure you know that too, and that’s why you’re out here crying.’
Millie nods as she tears up again.
‘Come here, babe,’ I insist as I wrap my arm around her. ‘It’s OK, you can talk to me about him – you’re not in trouble, I promise.’
‘He just dumped me,’ she sobs. ‘He… he wanted to do it…’
Oh, God, I feel terrible for her. She thinks she’s having this conversation with her mum and, honestly, I would have rather died than try and talk about sex with my mum when I was her age.
I squeeze her tightly, to let her know it’s OK.
‘I told him I wasn’t ready so he dumped me. He said he could get someone else to in a heartbeat, so I called his bluff,’ she explains. ‘But he did find someone else, and he took her upstairs with him, and he made sure they walked right by me – Mum, it was so embarrassing.’
Oh, that little shit. That horrible, horrible boy. I mean, the whole statutory rape thing alone is categorically wrong, but, even if she wasn’t still underage, the emotional manipulation and general disregard for her feelings has my blood boiling.
‘Where’s Fay?’ I ask.
‘She must have left,’ she replies. ‘I tried to find her before I came out here.’
‘Come on, let’s talk in the car,’ I say, because I can feel her shivering.
‘OK,’ she says softly. ‘You look really nice, by the way.’
I smile.
I might not be a mum, or an especially well-rounded person, but even I know that what I say to
Millie right now will have a profound effect on the rest of her life. It will shape the way she sees things – the way she sees herself. I cannot get this wrong.
I give Millie a tissue from my clutch bag before we head back inside. We push our way through the rowdy crowd until we’re at the front door, thankfully not coming face to face with Eddie again. I suppose he’s still trying to convince that poor girl I wasn’t really his mum, and that his bowels are perfectly fine (aside from the fact that he speaks from somewhere in that vicinity, obviously).
‘You’ll warm up in no time,’ I tell her with a smile as I start the engine. I only just about manage the smile because I am seething. I genuinely don’t think I’ve ever been so angry.
I reverse out from where I (rather impressively, in my opinion, given how big the car is) parallel-parked. I’m about to set off home but I just can’t take my eye off Eddie’s lime-green sporty rich-kid car, and I can’t shake the feeling of how angry I am, for the way he’s treated Millie, and for the way he clearly thinks he can treat all women.
‘Is that his car?’ I doublecheck.
‘Yep,’ she replies. Her face is scrunched up as if she’s just sucked a lemon slice. ‘I think it might be the only thing he cares about.’
‘Huh,’ I say thoughtfully.
I think for a few seconds – tops – before I act. I reverse a little more, start driving, and bump the side of Eddie’s car with the side of mine. I don’t do it hard, but this car is way bigger, and weighs tons, so it doesn’t take much to scrape the side of his and take his wing mirror clean off.
‘Little prick,’ I mutter to myself as I drive back down the road.
I glance into my mirrors to check for witnesses but it’s such a dark, quiet, lonely road, and everyone at the party will be hammered – it could have been anyone who pranged him.
See, I told you, when I see an injustice, I can’t help but act. My temper gets the better of me. I just hate to see people getting away with things – especially the rich morons in this village.
The realisation of what a very Ella thing to do that was, hits me. I slowly turn my head to look at Millie and she looks stunned.
Faking It Page 22
