Golden Girl

by Cathy Hopkins

  Move away, move away, I urged him in my mind. But he didn’t and next thing I knew, I was watching my boyfriend embrace one of India’s most stunning teen stars.

  So, go to bed? Sleep? Not a care in my mind? I am the One? Somehow, I didn’t think so.

  The next day Pia and I went to the restaurant for breakfast, expecting to see the Lewises there. We soon realised that they had their meals in their rooms.

  ‘Of course,’ said Pia, as we surveyed the sumptuous spread of foods laid out on a central table: fresh fruit of every kind, juices, breads, cereals, yoghurt, cheese, ham, salami, croissants, pastries, plus the usual full English of eggs, sausage and bacon. ‘They don’t want the whole world ogling them and watching them eat, do they?’

  ‘I guess not. Do you want to eat in our room?’ I asked.

  ‘Hell no,’ said Pia, as she piled fresh mango into a white bowl. ‘I want to use every bit of the hotel: the restaurants, the spa, the pool. I want to see everything, take it all in.’

  ‘Me too,’ I agreed, as I helped myself to a variety of berries then added yoghurt and honey. It felt a shame to eat in our room when there was so much to see. We took seats at a table looking over a lily pond in the courtyard in the centre of the hotel. In daylight, the water was a vivid turquoise against the white of the palace and I watched the numerous fountains gushing as we ate our fruit and were served fresh juices by smiling waiters. I thought about Charlie back home, eating his usual piece of toast at the breakfast bar in our little house. I wished he could have been here to share it all with me and vowed to buy him something wonderful to take back. Maybe a musical instrument . . . just not a milkosi.

  My phone bleeped that I had a text.

  Where R U? JJ.

  I texted back: Breakfast. Restaurant in courtyard.

  He replied. C U in ur room in half an hour.

  ‘I think you were right,’ I said as I showed Pia the text. ‘I suppose they want to be private, even here in the hotel.’

  Pia nodded. ‘There are loads of suites in the hotel,’ she said. ‘I checked it out on the hotel website. Rich people must come here for privacy as well as location.’

  I didn’t tell Pia but I was worried about what JJ wanted to talk to me about. I hadn’t told her why he hadn’t come looking for me last night, that he’d been with Shreya instead. I pushed my bowl away. I’d suddenly lost my appetite. My stomach was full of butterflies and there was no room for food in there too.

  JJ was waiting outside our room when we returned from breakfast. He was dressed in black jeans and a white linen T-shirt, immaculate as always. He beamed when he saw us and came and put his arm around me.

  ‘How’s it going so far?’ he asked.

  ‘Great,’ I said as Pia opened the door to our room and let us all in. She turned around. ‘Oh! I left my sunglasses in the restaurant,’ she said, winked at me and disappeared. I knew she hadn’t left her glasses at all. She was giving us space. At last, some time alone with JJ.

  JJ flung himself down on Pia’s bed. I was dying to ask him about Shreya but remembered all Pia’s advice about trust and not being needy so I bit my lip.

  JJ sighed, like he wanted to say something difficult.

  ‘Is something up?’ I asked.

  ‘Not really. I mean . . .’ He beckoned me over to sit next to him. ‘It’s weird, isn’t it?’

  ‘What’s weird?’

  ‘Us. Being here. It’s a bit unreal. Like, you’re here with me but—’

  ‘But what?’ I blurted. I felt my stomach lurch in anticipation of being dumped for Shreya. I steeled myself for the news.

  ‘But it’s still early days with us and . . . I’m aware that you have Pia with you and Alisha here so of course you’ll want to hang out with them. I don’t want to be the possessive boyfriend and crowd you. I want to give you space but, hey, I want to be with you as well. Oh, I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m trying to say. I guess . . . I just don’t want to blow it with you.’

  My mouth dropped open. He’d said exactly what I’d been feeling. ‘That’s why I didn’t call you. I wanted to give you space too.’

  JJ laughed. ‘Seriously? What a mad pair we are. If we go on like this, we’ll never get any time alone, not least because we have half a dozen chaperones most days!’

  ‘We’re alone now.’

  JJ smiled and moved closer. I closed my eyes ready for him to kiss me when someone knocked at the door. We leapt apart and I got up to answer.

  It was Mrs Lewis. She looked surprised to see JJ sitting on the bed. ‘Jess, just checking in on you. JJ, what are you doing here?’ She indicated with her thumb that he should leave. ‘And where’s Pia?’

  Pia appeared behind her at the door. ‘Here,’ she said.

  ‘I promised your parents you’d study,’ said Mrs Lewis. ‘So come on, get on with it. JJ, out you go. We’re heading into town but we’ll see you girls there later. Call if you need anything. Vanya will bring you across to join us later and you have all our cellphone numbers in case you need to call.’

  Behind her, JJ raised an eyebrow and grinned, then Pia and I were left alone with our books. Studying was the last thing I felt like doing.

  ‘Are relationships always like this?’ I asked Pia.

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Finding your way. Not being sure about the other person’s feelings, then discovering that they weren’t at all what you thought?’

  Pia nodded. ‘That’s the fun of it. The big lesson is never to assume that you know what’s going on in your boyfriend’s head. That’s why all our girlie magazines always go on about communication in relationships. You have to keep talking to each other, otherwise it gets crazy. The number of times I’ve stressed myself out when I didn’t hear from Henry and imagined he’d gone off me, then I talk to him and he looks at me like he has no idea what I’m on about, he’s just been busy or something. Doing boy stuff. So yeah, keep talking.’

  At last, our studying done, Vanya arrived to accompany us to meet the Lewises and, after another movie-star-style boat trip across the lake, we made our way towards town and through a triple-arched gate into the City Palace. Pia was wearing a red dress and sweet coral cardi and I was wearing a halterneck top, a blue skirt and sandals – nothing out of the ordinary, just clothes we’d chosen because they were light and it was so hot outside. But people still stared at us as we walked through the main gate to the City Palace. We spotted JJ waiting for us a short distance away. I so hoped that we’d get some time alone today, even if it was just a few minutes.

  ‘JJ will accompany you around,’ Vanya told us. ‘He has a guide with him who can tell you about the history, and I won’t be far away.’

  ‘Thanks, Vanya,’ said Pia.

  ‘Where’s Alisha?’ I asked JJ when we reached him.

  ‘Ah. She’s hanging out at the pool at the Shiv Niwas hotel with Mum.’

  ‘Didn’t she want to see inside the palace?’ asked Pia.

  ‘Yes but . . . let’s say the scenery at the hotel pool suddenly got more interesting,’ he said as he led us towards the interior of the palace.

  A text from Alisha as JJ was talking explained all.

  Have met most divine boys. Their dad owns hotel

  on other side of lake. Am in lurve. C U l8r. A

  ‘Do you mind me being here?’ whispered Pia. ‘I’d really like to see the palace but if you want to be alone with JJ, just say.’

  I put my arm round her. ‘I want to see it with you, my little munchkin.’ Although I wanted time with JJ, no way was I going to forget the rule and put a boy before a mate.

  For the next hour, we explored the many rooms and floors of the City Palace with a young Indian guy called Ramesh as our guide. Vanya stayed with us but he always maintained a bit of distance to give us space.

  ‘Awsesome, awesome and awesome,’ was all Pia managed to say as wonderful room opened into wonderful room on floor after floor. Every square centimetre was painted or carved or covered in mosaic –
even the ceilings were painted in a riot of colour. Some walls had brightly coloured paintings of elephants or camels, others gods, goddesses or ancient rulers. The most impressive was an opulent, enclosed area in the centre of the palace called the Peacock Court. The floor was made up of black and white square tiles and the walls had tiered balconies up top so people could see down into the courtyard.

  Ramesh pointed to a projected balcony. ‘That is where the king used to address the court,’ he told us as we looked up.

  ‘Wow, I love this place,’ I said, as I took in peacock mosaics on one side that had been made from green, blue and gold glass.

  ‘Five thousand pieces of glass were used to make them,’ said Ramesh. ‘The peacock is the bringer of good luck. The works of art on the walls to your right depict scenes from the legends of the Hindu god, Lord Krishna.’ I looked at the life-size depictions in all shades of gold glass. They were stunning.

  ‘And look at those doors,’ said Pia. One had rows of brightly coloured blue and green feathers painted around it; another gold door was set back in the wall with a series of deep green arches that seemed to ripple out towards us.

  As we wandered through the maze of corridors, towers, courtyards, pavilions and rooms interlinked with pillars or arches, JJ took my hand and looked as impressed as me and Pia. ‘I’ve never seen anything like this. Ornate is not the word. It even beats Porchester Park!’ he said with a smirk, as he looked up at a gold and red mosaic ceiling. ‘When was it built, Ramesh?’

  ‘The palace was built 450 years ago by Maharaja Udal Singh, sir,’ Ramesh told us, ‘and has been added to by subsequent generations, which is why it is now a series of palaces, eleven in all, measuring two hundred and forty-four metres long and thirty metres high.’

  Pia nodded, busy photographing everything she could. I think Ramesh had lost her with all his stats. I preferred to look rather than photograph. I could send Pia’s pics back to Dad and Charlie.

  ‘Seeing this place makes me feel like doing interior design,’ I said as we walked through one room with arches to the right, pillars to the left all painted in soft blue with white, then on into another room decorated in soft green with gold mirrors and burgundy window frames and doors. Everywhere we went was a feast of colour: gold and orange rooms, pink, green and blue rooms, some gaudy and bright, others soft and subtle. Orange-red flowers were painted on a blue background. A gold elephant and camel on a turquoise wall. I glanced down to a courtyard where women in red, pink and cobalt blue saris were strolling, adding more splashes of colour to the already dazzling scene.

  ‘Yeah, but you’d need clients who had a gazillion million to spend to recreate anything like this,’ said Pia.

  My favourite room had a wall of red and silver mirrors laid out in a zig-zag pattern, and a black and white tiled floor. It was insane but it worked.

  ‘Do you think it’s because of the sun here?’ asked Pia. ‘All the colours, I mean. In England so many people wear grey and black, especially in winter. Here everything is totally intense and brilliant.’

  ‘Probably. It makes me want to throw out all my black clothes,’ I said.

  Just as we thought we’d seen it all, we entered a room where the walls were made from small squares of blue, orange, green and yellow glass. The afternoon sun streamed through creating the most amazing play of light.

  ‘I’ve almost used up my whole photo card,’ said Pia. ‘We have to see if we can buy a book to show Mum and Henry.’

  ‘I bet there’ll be loads of pics on the net,’ I said. ‘When we get home, we can just Google City Palace in Udaipur and there’ll be a ton of stuff on there.’

  ‘You’re right,’ said Pia and put away her camera. ‘I’m just going to relax and enjoy it.’

  Over by the lakeside were turrets and domed balconies where you could sit and look out over the water to the mountains beyond. We sat with JJ for a moment to gaze at the view as a group of tourists passed through with their guide.

  ‘Muslin or silk curtains which had been soaked in rose or jasmine water would have been hung across the arched doorways and windows so that, in the heat of the sun, the scent would waft through the rooms,’ the guide was telling the group.

  ‘Imagine how romantic that would have been,’ I said to Pia. ‘Sitting here with a handsome prince, gazing out at this view.’

  ‘I miss my prince Henry,’ she said, then glanced at JJ.

  ‘But we’ve only been gone two days!’ I said.

  ‘Seems like longer,’ said Pia. ‘Not that I mind but already I feel like we’ve been away forever and being here, in these stunning locations, well, it’d be nice to have him here too. This place just reeks of romance.’

  She winked at me, grabbed Ramesh and pulled him into the next room, leaving JJ and me alone, though I noticed Vanya pause for a moment before he followed Pia.

  ‘It’s unreal, isn’t it?’ JJ said. The view was awesome. We could see the Taj Lake Palace floating in the middle of the water, the hills in the distance.

  ‘It’s not what I expected at all. I had no idea India was going to be so beautiful. I mean, I’d seen pictures of the Taj Mahal but this . . . this is like the best decorators in the world got their heads together to make a work of art.’

  JJ turned towards me. ‘I’m glad you like it,’ he said. ‘Do you know what I wish, though? That I could see what the people who lived here then looked like. I wish I could travel back in time and see their faces, look into their eyes. I know there are loads of paintings around but I’d like to see them for real.’

  ‘I know just what you mean. I’d love to know the stories behind what went on here.’

  JJ nodded. ‘That’s why I love reading the history of a place, but there’s still so much of it that won’t have been written down.’

  I nodded and we sat looking out over the view for a few more minutes, both of us lost in our imaginings of how it must have been so many years ago. At last we were alone. I wanted to savour the moment. It was a magical location, a gentle breeze wafted through the palace. It was well worth waiting for. Pia had been right. Romance was in the air. JJ put one hand around my waist and pulled me closer to him. I felt like we were the only people in the whole world, caught in a timeless moment. He put his hand under my chin and gently lifted it. I closed my eyes ready for his kiss.

  ‘The architecture of the palace is a mixture of Rajasthani and Mughal styles,’ boomed a loud Indian voice behind us.

  I opened my eyes and turned. A tourist group of about thirty people was standing with their guide, staring at us as though we were part of the scenery. One Japanese lady even took a photo of us!

  ‘Seems like we’re never to get our moment alone,’ JJ laughed as he stood up, took my hand and pulled me towards the room where Ramesh, Vanya and Pia had gone.

  ‘Dad’s playing a big-time jewel thief,’ JJ said as we walked through another courtyard in the grounds of the City Palace. ‘They shot some of the movie interiors in the Crystal Gallery at the Fateh Prakesh Palace hotel. It’s not far. Want to go and take a look?’

  ‘Love to,’ I said, but really I thought, Boring. Traipsing around looking at a bunch of glasses.

  We found the hotel then went up to an upper floor where Alisha came to find us. I liked the Fateh Prakesh Palace. It hadn’t been modernised like the hotel we were staying in and it felt like we were stepping back in time to the era of the great maharajas. It smelt wonderfully of beeswax, probably used to polish the wood-panelled walls.

  Alisha was buzzing with excitement about the two boys she’d met.

  ‘Kunal and Prasad,’ she said as we made our way down a dark wooden corridor. ‘Prasad’s the one I like and I think he likes me too.’

  ‘Long distance love affair? Is that a good idea?’ asked Pia.

  ‘They’re both at school in England, back here for the holidays,’ she replied. ‘Yay . . . Whoa! Wow. Get a load of this!’ She stopped and stared around the room we’d just entered. It was full of the most beautiful glas
sware: bowls, decanters, glasses and mirrors but not just those, there was actual furniture chiselled from crystal: sofas, a bed, a table, a throne and foot-stool, a dressing table.

  ‘They’re like exquisite ice sculptures,’ I said. ‘Imagine the work that went into making them.’ Some of the pieces were carved in pale green glass, some in a delicate translucent pink. It was like walking into the white witch’s palace in Narnia but this wasn’t fantasy, it was reality. As we continued to explore room after room full of glass artefacts, chandeliers and furniture, we were joined by Ramesh who had come with us.

  ‘In these rooms is the largest private collection of crystal in the world,’ said Ramesh, as we paused to look at a vast glass dining table laid with a dinner service for what looked like dozens of guests.

  ‘How old is it?’ asked Pia.

  ‘Over one hundred years,’ Ramesh replied. ‘It was ordered from the F and C Osler company in Birmingham, England by Maharaja Sajjan Singh who began his reign in 1874 but sadly died ten years later. He never got to see it completed.’

  ‘None of it?’ I asked.

  Ramesh shook his head. ‘No, madam, and neither did anyone else. On its arrival in India, it was immediately packed away in boxes underground.’

  I looked from JJ to Pia and Alisha. ‘Forgotten,’ I said, in disbelief. ‘But it must be priceless.’

  ‘Yes, madam. It only came to light in recent years and then the head of the Mewar royal family, Shriji Arvind Singh Mewar, decided that this great treasure should be shared with the world and this gallery was opened in 1994.’

  ‘Wow,’ said Pia as we looked at a glass wardrobe in one room. ‘Imagine finding treasure like this in your basement! How amazing to think this stuff was just packed away in a cellar. It’s so beautiful. Each piece is a work of art.’

  ‘This whole place is,’ I added.

  ‘Can you buy any of it?’ asked Alisha.

  Ramesh shook his head. ‘No, madam.’