Drama Girl

by Carmen Reid

  ‘Of course not,’ Gina and Min both agreed straight away.

  ‘What about the party?’ Amy asked, desperate to change the subject.

  ‘Bad news,’ Gina replied. ‘Willow’s mum won’t make the call to the Neb for us.’

  ‘Oh no!’ Amy groaned.

  ‘I didn’t think it was very likely,’ Min said. ‘I mean, what mother wants to get involved with lying to the school? What if something happened to us . . .? Then it would kind of be her fault. Well, she’d be involved.’

  ‘Oh, great!’ Amy gave a sigh. ‘Well . . . now what are we going to do?’

  Gina propped her chin up on her hands. ‘How do other people get to go to parties? Who in the boarding house goes to the most parties?’ she asked. ‘We should speak to them and find out how they do it.’

  A little smile began to grow on Amy’s face. ‘Mel!’ she said brightly, naming the most notorious girl in the entire boarding house. ‘We need to go and talk to Mel!’

  Mel was the self-proclaimed ‘bad girl’ of the school and resident ‘sexpert’. She always wore the raciest clothes she could get away with, had the most outrageous haircut and colour the Neb could tolerate – and the dodgiest boyfriends.

  The last guy she went out with (and more: all explicit details available to anyone who approached her room with a bribe) had been interviewed by the police for ‘prowling’ around the boarding-school garden in the hope of a secret meeting with her.

  Mel was constantly on her last and final warning from the Neb for something or other, but she had a breezy charm and an absolutely loaded daddy, and these things had so far protected her from the ultimate punishment: expulsion.

  ‘Oh no!’ Min groaned. ‘Count me out of anything that involves her. She’s just undiluted trouble.’

  But Amy had already hopped down from the bed and was sliding her feet into black pumps. ‘C’mon,’ she instructed Gina. ‘I bet she has the answer for us.’

  Gina wasn’t quite so optimistic, but still she got up and prepared to follow Amy.

  Just then, the door opened and Niffy walked in.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m leaving anyway,’ Amy snapped at her former friend. ‘We’re going to find a way to get to the party on Saturday. Yes, the one you’re determined I won’t go to. Well, too bad. I’m going there to see your brother.’ There was a sneer in her voice as she said this.

  ‘Don’t!’ cried Min. Amy and Niffy had once been such close friends, she hated to watch them fighting like this.

  But there didn’t seem to be anything that she or Gina could do to stop it.

  ‘So Mel’s got a room all to herself again?’ Gina asked Amy as they approached Mel’s door.

  ‘I don’t think anyone else would share with her,’ Amy said. ‘Imagine having to live with all her stories and horrible little details twenty-four/seven.’

  ‘Eeeek!’

  While Mel was a fascinating source of information, there was always just a little bit too much of it. Gina’s toes curled at the thought of some of the squishy details Mel had provided when she’d told them about her first night of passion. Now Gina could never think about Mel without also thinking about Mel’s boyfriend’s horrible blue underpants. And she didn’t want those underpants there, taking up room in her head. She really didn’t.

  ‘Hi!’ Amy called out. ‘Are you in? It’s Amy and Gina.’

  The door opened, and Mel ushered them into her utterly chaotic room. The bed was completely covered in outfits which she was obviously trying on in advance of the weekend. Her face looked unusual too. She’d obviously applied fake tan in far too dark a shade, along with an overdose of purple lipstick.

  ‘Oooh’ – Amy tried to stifle a giggle – ‘you look like a burned blackcurrant.’

  ‘Very funny,’ said Mel, but she let them into her room and cleared a corner of her bed for them to sit on.

  Then she squirted some cleanser into her hand and began to rub it across her face. ‘Any tips for removing fake tan?’ she asked her visitors.

  ‘Erm . . . lots of showering and scrubbing,’ Amy offered.

  ‘Yeah,’ Gina pitched in. ‘If you’ve got one of those body brushes—’

  ‘This is my face!’ Mel protested. ‘I’m not about to attack it with a body brush!’

  ‘No, I guess not,’ Gina had to admit. ‘Exfoliator? I might have some if you don’t.’

  ‘Yeah, but only if you help us,’ Amy jumped in. Mel never ever did anything for free – she always had to be bribed into everything, so Gina certainly shouldn’t be giving away exfoliator when it could be used as a negotiating tool.

  ‘So . . . what’s the problem?’ Mel asked. She sat down on the chair at her desk, crossed her legs, then placed freshly painted navy-blue fingernails on her snakeskin print leggings.

  ‘We’ve been invited to a flat party on Saturday night,’ Amy began.

  ‘Oooo!’ Mel sounded interested. ‘A party! Can I come?’

  ‘Of course,’ Amy agreed, knowing nothing was more likely to make Mel determined to come than saying no. ‘I’m not sure it’s quite your scene though – lots of Craigiefield boys aged sixteen and seventeen . . .’

  ‘Drinking beer for the very first time . . .’ Mel pulled a burned blackcurrant face. ‘Mmm, maybe not. It could get really messy. Promise me that as soon as the first boy pukes, you’ll leave. You don’t want to get involved with the whole bucket and mop operation, trust me.’

  ‘Promise,’ Amy said. ‘But the problem is, it doesn’t look like we’ll be able to go unless we can think of something really, really good to tell the Neb. We were going to have this day girl’s mum phone and say we were going to a party at her place but—’

  ‘The mum won’t oblige,’ Mel chipped in with complete understanding: she’d been in this situation so many times that she now had a whole new system in place.

  ‘OK, all I’ll need is the name of your day girl’s mother and five pounds from every girl who’s going. Then I’ll be able to sort it for you.’

  ‘Really?’ Amy brightened.

  But Gina wasn’t quite so easily convinced. ‘Five pounds!’ she exclaimed. ‘Each?! And what do you mean you’ll need the name of the mum we were going to get to phone.’

  ‘It’s very simple, but I’ll need the cash upfront,’ Mel said firmly.

  Gina couldn’t help thinking that Mel was probably going to be a sensational businesswoman one day. She really understood how to make a deal. And no matter what it was you wanted, she usually already had it, or knew how to help you get it.

  ‘So what do you do?’ Amy asked.

  ‘Let’s just say I have a very good friend who’s a bit of an actress. For a reasonable fee, she is prepared to phone the Neb, pretend to be the mother of your choice and request the presence of your company at a small dinner party to be held in her comfortable New Town family home. How does that sound?’

  ‘Brilliant!’ was Amy’s verdict.

  ‘A bit risky?’ was Gina’s.

  ‘Don’t be silly.’ Amy dismissed her concerns. ‘C’mon, let’s go and get our money, then we’ll give Mel a squish of your exfoliator and we’ll all be set for Saturday.’

  Gina didn’t look convinced, but she followed Amy out of Mel’s room.

  As they began to head up the staircase together, they saw Niffy coming down. She was in a hurry, taking the stairs two at a time.

  Amy deliberately turned away to make it obvious that she didn’t want to even see her.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  ‘WEAR THE CREAM dress.’ Amy was looking at the selection of clothes Gina had laid out across her bed.

  ‘But it’s so special,’ Gina protested. ‘I’ve not worn it anywhere yet. Do you have any idea how much my mom paid for it?’

  ‘Wear the cream dress,’ Amy repeated, ‘with the cute new boots and your green coat on top, and you will be adorable. Dermot hasn’t even seen it yet – which is a crying shame! Show it off. It’s sooo beautiful.’ A true clothes connoisseur, she felt the s
oft woollen fabric of the dress between thumb and forefinger. ‘Mmm,’ she said appreciatively.

  It was five o’clock on Saturday – still a whole three hours to go before they left in taxis for the flat party – but there was so much to do! Clothes and shoes had to be decided on, everyone had to approve everyone else’s outfits, and then hair had to be arranged, make-up applied.

  Min and Amy were jumpy with nerves, preparing to see boys they still didn’t know well but were so excited about. Gina was happy: dates with Dermot were always great. The only person who had no particular reason to feel excited about this party was Niffy.

  But she was coming – there was no doubt about that. She had paid her five pounds to be part of Mel’s scam. Now she stomped out of the dorm armed with her towel and wash bag and headed for the shower.

  Min zipped up the pretty pink sleeveless dress she’d chosen for tonight.

  ‘That looks really nice,’ Gina told her.

  ‘Yeah!’ Amy agreed. ‘So you’re going to put the black jacket with that and those nice black suede pumps – that’ll look gorgeous. How is Greg going to be able to resist you?’ she teased.

  Min could only manage a faint smile in response to this.

  ‘The big kiss,’ Amy began. ‘That’s what we’re aiming for here.’

  ‘C’mon then: what are you going to wear?’ Gina asked Amy, desperate to know.

  ‘Oooooh . . . did I just happen to go into town today with Rosie, and did I just happen to stumble across something really, really special which was marked down in the mid-season sale? Oh yes, I did.’

  Amy went out to the small wooden wardrobe – now on the landing – opened the door, fished around for a moment, then brought out a slinky, slithery dark blue dress made of some amazing sparkly material.

  ‘Oh, wow!’ Gina said.

  ‘Oh yes!’ Amy said, and held the dress against herself. ‘I’ve got my patent leggings and some very high black shoes which are going to look amazing with this. I think I’ll put my hair up and lash on lots of blue-grey eyeshadow.’

  ‘It’s absolutely tiny,’ Gina blurted out.

  ‘I know. Size six!’ Amy revealed, and there was a gleam of triumph in her eyes as she said it.

  ‘Six!’ Min exclaimed. ‘I thought you were a ten.’

  ‘Well, this is a six and it fits,’ Amy said – and her smug smile made Gina feel uncomfortable all over again.

  She exchanged a glance with Min.

  For the last two days they had watched Amy at breakfast and dinner. She seemed to be eating normally then, just as she’d told them she would. Lunch was still the meal that was causing problems. Amy claimed she’d gone on both days, but neither Amy nor Min had seen her.

  ‘I think I’ll get dressed and go to Rosie’s room before you know who comes back from her shower,’ Amy said.

  ‘Oh, you can’t start calling her that,’ Min protested. ‘It’s just so stupid. How long is this going to go on for?’

  Amy shrugged, then added cattily, ‘You’ll have to help her out on the fashion front – you know what a complete dolt she is. She’s probably selected some old jodhpurs to wear tonight.’

  ‘Amy!’ Gina scolded her. ‘Don’t be mean about Niffy. We’re never going to join in with that.’

  Amy’s amazing outfit raised several pairs of eyebrows. Once she was in the teeny, slinky, glittering dress, Gina and Min looked at each other meaningfully, because now they could see just how skinny she was. Her collarbones, her hips, even her elbows and knees seemed to jut and protrude.

  And then, when they were downstairs, there was the Neb’s comment: ‘Don’t you think that’s a bit over the top for a dinner party, Amy?’

  Both Gina and Min were suddenly worried that she was becoming suspicious.

  But Amy replied breezily, ‘I’m a Glaswegian, Mrs Knebworth. I have a reputation for bling to uphold.’

  So nothing had prevented the four of them from leaving the boarding house and getting into the pre-booked black cab.

  ‘I can’t believe it,’ Min had whispered once the taxi doors were shut. ‘If we ever get found out, we are dead.’

  ‘She is not going to find out,’ Amy insisted. ‘We are going to a dinner party. Willow’s mum and dad will be there, a few other day girls and some St Lennox boys. We will have delicious roast beef with all the trimmings – mmmm, roast potatoes, carrots dripping with butter and honey – followed by’ – she half closed her eyes, as if the thought of pudding was almost too much – ‘lemon meringue pie. A beautiful homemade lemon meringue pie, still warm from the oven, with thick pastry and a really gooey lemony inside . . .’ She paused for a moment, then briskly added, ‘So we’ll say it was all lovely and we had a wonderful time.’

  There was a snorting sort of ‘humph’ sound from Niffy, who was perched on one of the fold-down seats. Her eyes were fixed on the window so that she couldn’t even accidentally look at Amy. ‘Shame someone told the Neb we were going to a dinner party so we couldn’t even eat a proper supper before going out,’ she said.

  ‘That didn’t stop you wolfing down eight slices of toast with peanut butter though, did it?’ Amy snapped back.

  ‘At least I have slightly more than a cup of tea lining my stomach,’ was Niffy’s reply.

  ‘Yeah, well, some of us have a beautiful slinky dress to fit into,’ Amy snarled. ‘Some of us aren’t wearing our old—’

  ‘Please stop it,’ Gina broke in. ‘This is really horrible. Stop it. And anyway, I think Niffy looks great.’

  Which was true. Niffy wouldn’t be persuaded out of her favourite, comfortable old jeans, but she had accepted the loan of a pale yellow top from Gina, who had also insisted on brushing and tying up her unruly bundle of dark brown curls and then subjecting her to blusher, lip gloss and perfume.

  The taxi journey continued without any further conversation. In fact, the silence felt so oppressive that the driver piped up with: ‘C’mon, girls, it’s Saturday night and you’re all looking lovely. Cheer up – here we are!’

  There was the usual scramble in four purses to club together for the fare. Gina weighed in with a one-pound tip, which made everyone gasp, but as she reminded them, ‘I’m American: I have a reputation for over-tipping to live up to.’

  Outside, it was bitterly cold, dark and drizzly, with a biting wind, and looking up at the elegant three-storey block of flats in front of them, they definitely felt nervous.

  Two of the second-floor windows were lit, and it was obvious from the shadows crossing to and fro in front of them that this was where the party was happening.

  ‘Greg said he’d be here at eight twenty,’ Min told them. ‘Could we just wait out here on the pavement for him? Well, I mean, I’ll wait if you want to go in.’

  ‘I’ll wait with you,’ Niffy offered, desperate to avoid making an entrance with Amy.

  ‘Good idea,’ was Gina’s verdict; she really didn’t want to see how Finn coped with meeting both Amy and Niffy at the same time. It probably wasn’t going to be a very happy moment. He was about to find out how badly they had fallen out.

  So Niffy and Min stayed outside on the pavement as Amy and Gina walked up the steps and looked for the right bell to push.

  ‘Do you think Dermot’s here already?’ Amy asked.

  ‘No,’ Gina told her. ‘He wanted me to call him when I arrived, to make sure he doesn’t end up marooned in a sea of Craigiefield boys with no one to talk to.’

  Amy ran her dark red fingernail up the list of names. ‘Cresswell-Smith,’ she said. ‘This is the one.’

  ‘Are you nervous?’ Gina asked her.

  ‘Nah!’ Amy insisted. ‘Excited!’

  A voice on the intercom shouted a welcome and the door buzzed open. They entered a cool, stone-flagged lobby and began to climb the stairs to the second floor.

  ‘It doesn’t sound very wild,’ Amy said as they reached the top flight of stairs. This was true. There was no thumping music, no raucous laughter, no flash of disco lights or anything to
suggest that a party was in full swing.

  ‘Oh no!’ she worried suddenly. ‘You don’t think they’re all sitting about pretending to be grown up, do you? We’re not going to go in and find everyone sipping sherry or something awful?’

  ‘No!’ Gina exclaimed – she just couldn’t imagine it. ‘Surely . . . surely it would have said on the invitation?’

  Amy snorted. ‘Boys wrote that invitation. Boys know nothing.’

  ‘Amy, boys would not sit around sipping sherry,’ Gina assured her.

  ‘We are talking about Craigiefield boys here. I mean, the word snobby doesn’t even come close.’

  They were at the door of the flat now. It looked big, smart, polished – and very grown up.

  ‘We are at the right address, aren’t we?’ Gina worried.

  ‘Yeah, I’m sure we are.’

  Amy rapped hard against the wood with her knuckles.

  Both girls held their breaths as they waited for the door to open.

  Then a boy’s head appeared. He looked at the girls and grinned. ‘Hi!’ he said cheerily. ‘I’m Max.’ He held out his hand. ‘You must be friends of . . .?’

  ‘Finn’s,’ Amy said, understanding at once that this was the host and he was making a polite check that they weren’t gate-crashers.

  ‘Fantastic.’ Then, holding the door open, he waved them in.

  The girls walked into a hallway that looked far too well decorated to be a student flat. The wallpaper was the expensively printed kind; the elegant semicircular mahogany table bore a brass lamp with a silk shade, several telephone directories and an old-fashioned dial phone.

  ‘Is this your place?’ Amy asked.

  ‘My big sister’s,’ Max answered. ‘She’s away for the weekend and she said I could bring a friend to stay as long as I didn’t have a party. So we’re all on our absolute best behaviour. Is that clear?’ But he shot Amy a wink.

  ‘Right.’ Amy walked along the corridor, admiring the nubbly sea-grass flooring. Poor Max, he had absolutely no idea! That stuff was impossible to clean. If anyone spilled so much as a splash of water, his sister was going to kill him.