Golden Girl

by Cathy Hopkins

  ‘How much for the photos?’ I asked.

  ‘Two thousand rupees,’ said the seller.

  ‘How much is that?’ I asked Pia, who was better at working the exchange out than I was.

  ‘About thirty pounds,’ she said. ‘How much have you got?’

  I counted my money. ‘About one and a half thousand,’ I said. ‘Not enough.’

  Pia pointed at the three photos I wanted. ‘You can do for less?’ she asked but the stallholder shook his head.

  ‘Very valuable. Original. No do cheaper.’

  Pia got her purse out. ‘You have to get these,’ she said and she handed me five hundred rupees. ‘They’re the perfect present.’

  I gave her a hug. ‘I’ll pay you back,’ I said as I got up and handed over the money.

  In the evening, Pia and I packed our bags before the party so we’d be ready for the early morning flight the next day. I felt I had so many things I wanted to remember from the trip. Snapshots in my mind of the people, the bright sunshine colours, the animals, the stunning locations – like the Ladies’ Garden just outside Udaipur where four fountains had been built to sound like rain falling; Lake Pichola, where we took a boat ride; a hotel courtyard strewn with fairy lights where we had dinner one evening, sipping tea as musicians sat nearby playing sitar and tabla, the shops and stalls in the bazaar, where we stopped to watch travelling Kathakari dancers, who looked like Hindu gods come to life – and lastly, the insane traffic and terrifying rickshaw rides with Pia, JJ, Alisha and me stuffed in the back, hanging on for dear life. All separate moments making up a colourful collage in my brain.

  ‘You OK tonight? You’re not going to throw up again, are you?’ asked Pia as we got into our party clothes.

  ‘I’m thinking of doing it at every celebration,’ I replied. ‘Like my party trick. See how far I can reach.’

  Pia pulled a face. ‘Ew. You’re disgusting.’

  ‘I try to be,’ I said, as I sprayed perfume on my wrists, then headed for the door.

  I gazed out at the wet London afternoon as we sped along the M4 in the back of the Lewises’ UK limo. It felt good to be back in England, even if it was grey and dismal. I was longing to see Dave and Dad and Charlie – though it had only been six days, it felt like we’d been away much longer.

  When we arrived back at Porchester Park, the Mercedes pulled up out front and Yoram came over to open the back doors. He looked like he’d sucked a lemon when he realised that he was letting me and Pia out, but when he saw Mrs Lewis and JJ and Alisha, his expression turned to a smile. Yoram had never been friendly to me and Pia. To the residents, however, he was impeccably polite, greeting them with charm and professionalism.

  ‘Back to reality,’ Pia whispered. We’d got so used to being part of the in-crowd, it was going to be hard to be just normal again.

  We said our goodbyes and thanked Mrs Lewis again for having invited us, then made our way into reception.

  ‘I’ll call you later,’ said JJ, after he’d given me a hug.

  ‘The parting of the ways,’ Pia commented as we crossed over to the door leading to the staff area and the Lewises went to the lift to take them up to their apartment.

  ‘I know. Do you think it’s going to be weird going back to our life after having lived in the lap of luxury?’ I asked.

  ‘Only if you make it weird,’ said Pia and tapped her head. ‘It’s all in the mind, in your attitude.’

  I did a small bow to her. ‘You are indeed wise, O small one,’ I said. She came out with extraordinary stuff sometimes.

  ‘I know,’ said Pia. ‘Just call me Guru Pianand ji.’

  ‘Pianand?’

  Pia nodded. ‘And I’d like you to walk two steps behind me as a sign of respect from now on.’

  ‘Dream on, nutjob,’ I said.

  Once in the staff area, we went our separate ways and soon I was swept up into my own personal homecoming. A big hug from Dad, a small hug from Charlie – he didn’t really do hugs but I could tell he’d missed me – and a good lick and nuzzle from Dave, who didn’t hold back in letting me know how glad he was that I was back.

  After I’d given my presents out and had a cup of tea and piece of toast with Marmite, I went and sat in my room and looked at my emails. There weren’t that many because I’d kept up with them in India and also on the plane coming home, though we’d mainly slept on the return trip. I sent messages to Meg and Flo to let them know we were back, then sat and stared out of the window. It looked so dull outside compared to the bright light of India and it felt like life had suddenly come to an almighty and abrupt full stop. Only the night before, I’d been dressed in my best clothes having dinner by candlelight on the Imperial Barge on Lake Pichola, one of the most beautiful locations in the world. It had been a wonderful evening and JJ had loved his Indian photographs. His favourite present, he told me, which was saying something seeing as his mum and dad had got him a whole hoard of expensive goodies. And now I was back home, looking out of the window at a brick wall opposite.

  I got out my phone and texted Pia. Strange to be back.

  She phoned straight away. ‘Yeah. Feels so quiet and Mum won’t play the servant game. I told her that I was used to being waited on hand and foot and being served the finest food on the best crockery and that I wanted to be known as Princess Pia from now on. She laughed then threw a tea towel at me, pointed at the sink and said, “Get over it, Lady Muck. Life is all about balance. Now get drying those dishes.” I’ve only been back half an hour and already she’s using me as her personal slave.’

  ‘My mum used to say that was one of the perks of having kids,’ I said.

  ‘Got to go,’ said Pia. ‘Mum’s calling. Probably wants me to mop the floors. Oh how the mighty are fallen.’

  I sat back on my bed and my phone bleeped that I had two texts. The first was from JJ. Don’t want it 2 end yet. Can I C U l8r? Maybe finally get some time alone? XXX

  And the second from Tom. When can I see you? Missed U. Tom XXX

  ‘Tom!’ I said to Dave. ‘What does he want?’

  Dave rolled onto his back and pawed the air.

  ‘Yes, he probably wants his tummy tickling too.’ However, after India and Shreya and Kunal, I wasn’t going to mess JJ around, not for a second. We’d had a good heart-to-heart on the plane coming back, before we all slept like zombies, and we agreed to be totally up front about everything from now on. ‘So, sorry, Tom. You might be Mr Cutest-Boy-In-School but you’re history.’ I meant it too. JJ was my first real relationship and I wasn’t going to blow it by keeping my options open in case anything went wrong. I trusted JJ and I didn’t feel quite the relationship newbie that I had when we’d first set out on the trip. I’d learnt a big lesson – never to assume that you know what is going on in your boyfriend’s head. Never second-guess and always give him a chance to explain. I’d been off on a total fantasy in my head about him and Shreya and almost blown it, all because of my own insecurity.

  I texted Tom back. C U in school. Can’t C U b4, too busy with JJ. Curry on. Jess.

  Next I texted JJ. Come down as soon as U can. Bring baseball cap. Have an idea. Jess XX

  I unpacked my bag and went into Charlie’s room. He’d gone out but luckily he’d left what I wanted hanging on the back of his door. It was a distinctive green hoodie with rows of white skulls that he’d got from Camden Market.

  A ring at the bell downstairs a short time later told me that JJ had arrived. I grabbed the hoodie and went down to let him in. ‘I got it,’ I called to Dad who was sitting at the breakfast bar having a cup of coffee. ‘S’probably just Pia. Popping over there now.’

  Dad waved and nodded as if to say OK.

  JJ stood at the door when I opened it, Vanya hovering in the background. I quickly put a finger up to my mouth to warn him not to say anything, grabbed my jacket and a couple of umbrellas, then shut the front door behind me so that Dad didn’t see that it wasn’t Pia. ‘We’ll look after him,’ I called to Vanya. ‘Just goi
ng to Pia’s.’

  Vanya nodded. ‘Call me when you want to go back up,’ he said.

  ‘Will do,’ said JJ, and we watched him disappear back down the corridor leading to the reception area. ‘Honestly, like anyone’s going to abduct me on the premises!’

  I handed him the hoodie. ‘Ah, but we’re not going to be on the premises. Put this on,’ I said, ‘and your cap.’

  ‘Why?’ asked JJ.

  ‘It’s Charlie’s. All the staff will have seen him going out in it. He wears it most days.’

  JJ caught on immediately, put on the hoodie and pulled the hood over his head. ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘To be on our own,’ I said and pulled him towards the staff gate. ‘Don’t turn around, keep your head down. If you see anyone, put an umbrella up.’

  ‘But it’s stopped raining.’

  ‘Only for a while. It’ll probably start again.’

  We made our way to the gate and were just about to exit when Pia’s mum, Mrs Carlsen, appeared behind us. ‘Jess, hi. Hi, Charlie.’

  JJ immediately put up an umbrella and didn’t look around. ‘Mff,’ he said.

  ‘Where you off to?’ asked Mrs Carlsen.

  ‘Um. Shops. Milk.’

  She waved an envelope at me. ‘Could you post this letter for me?’

  ‘Sure,’ I said and ran over to get it from her. She glanced at JJ as I took it from her. ‘Charlie OK?’

  ‘Yeah. Good.’

  JJ waved his arm without turning around.

  Pia’s mum rolled her eyes. ‘Teenagers,’ she said, then thankfully went back inside.

  ‘Phew, that was close,’ I said as I opened the gate and we slipped through onto the pavement outside. I punched the air. ‘Free!’

  JJ put the umbrella back down but he kept the hoodie pulled well over his face and walked close to the wall. ‘Let’s move it in case anyone sees us.’

  I looked back, Yoram was out front in his usual position. I gave him a wave. He saw me but didn’t wave back. We walked round a corner then were out of sight.

  ‘You can look up now,’ I said to JJ. ‘No-one’s following us.’

  As we made our way down the street, I noticed a newsagent’s and it gave me an idea.

  ‘Just wait here a moment,’ I said. ‘I’ve got to get something.’

  JJ stayed outside while I dashed inside. I returned to him a few minutes later and handed him my purchase. ‘A late birthday present to go with the photos,’ I said.

  His face lit up when he saw that it was a packet of jelly beans. ‘My second best present,’ he said as he opened it up and popped two in his mouth.

  Munching happily, we made our way to the park where we looked for a quiet spot but it appeared the whole world was out enjoying the reprieve between showers. People were rollerskating and jogging, mothers were pushing prams, pensioners strolling, families having picnics, and there were benches full of businessmen grabbing a sandwich for lunch.

  I sighed. ‘God, this is worse than India.’ I looked up at the sky. ‘And it looks like it’s going to pour again.’ Just at that moment, there was a crack of thunder and the rain started to lash down. Everyone in the vicinity dashed for the nearest shelter.

  JJ and I put up our umbrellas, looked at each other, then at the people now crammed into the nearest wooden pavilion. JJ shrugged and indicated a bench to our left under a tree. He pulled me towards it and we sat down. He positioned our umbrellas so that they made a makeshift tent.

  ‘Sorry. I thought there might be somewhere we could be alone,’ I said as I drew my knees up out of the rain.

  JJ did the same with his knees then grinned. ‘No problem. Actually it’s cosy in here.’ It was too. Both umbrellas were big ones that Dad had brought back from a posh polo lunch he’d been invited to. The two together made a pale lilac bubble, cutting us off from the rest of the world.

  ‘Different from India, hey? Here we are squashed on an uncomfortable old bench in the pouring rain. Not exactly romantic Udaipur, is it?’

  I laughed as we heard the rain beat down more intensely, and saw it splashing up from the ground.

  ‘No rose petals, no sun on our faces . . .’ said JJ, and then he stopped and took a deep breath. We were sitting directly opposite each other, squashed up together. He looked right at me and for a few seconds neither of us moved. We just stared into each other’s eyes. The atmosphere inside our small waterproof dome felt charged with electricity. ‘Hey. We’re finally alone,’ he said.

  ‘We are.’ I started to laugh.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ asked JJ.

  ‘It’s pouring with rain, our jeans are wet from the bench, we’re in this tiny space with no view . . .’

  ‘Jelly beans instead of the finest cuisine.’

  ‘And I can’t think of a more romantic place to be.’

  ‘Me neither,’ said JJ, then looked into my eyes again, then down at my mouth. ‘It’s amazing in here, isn’t it?’ he said and, at the same time, we leant towards each other. A kiss at last.

  If you enjoy the Million Dollar Mates series,

  you’ll love Cathy’s new book,

  Love at Second Sight.

  Here’s an extract!

  ‘I hold that when a person dies his soul returns again to earth; arrayed in some new flesh guise another mother gives him birth.’ John Masefield, A Creed

  It all started on the May bank holiday weekend.

  It was Friday afternoon and I trooped out of school with my best mates, Effy and Tash. Despite the grey skies and threatening rain, they were in a sunny mood, unlike me.

  ‘Three whole days off to hang out with Dave,’ said Tash.

  ‘Three whole days to hang out with Mark,’ said Effy.

  Three whole days for me to be Miss Tag Along, I thought as they talked over plans on the way to the bus stop. It was the second bank holiday of the month and, once again, I’d be the odd one out. Bridget Jones singing, All by myself.

  ‘Oh, and to hang out with you too, Jo,’ Effy added. ‘We wouldn’t leave you out.’

  I tried to look enthusiastic. I knew I’d be included in any plans. They’re good friends and we all know the rules when dating boys: mates come first. Even so, it isn’t a ton of fun going to the movies, all five of us, with me wedged in between two couples, not knowing where to look when they snog each other’s faces off. Then going for pizza and watching them feed pepperoni to each other across the table while I sip my diet coke and try not to look like a sad loser. Or spending evenings in each other’s houses, listening to music, while Mark and Effy or Dave and Tash send slow smiles between them across the room, as if to say ‘don’t we have something special here?’ While I, feeling left out, wonder what I’m doing to put boys off and whether there’s something wrong with me because my relationships don’t last.

  So, no. Another weekend of being reminded that I’m single is not my ideal, that’s for sure. Not that I haven’t had boyfriends. I have. I’ve even made a list of them in my diary to remind myself that I’m not a total reject.

  My love life so far

  By Jo Harris

  Jamie

  He was back in Year Eleven. I liked him a lot until a small problem came up. He was also dating Cheryl Wilson from Year Ten.

  Doug

  Also in Year Eleven. He was good company but as time went on, I realised that I paid for everything. Basically he was a cheapskate. I don’t get that much pocket money and I thought it would be nice if he bought the cinema tickets once in a while, because it wasn’t as if he didn’t have any money, he just chose to spend it on CDs or computer games.

  Lawrence

  He was at the beginning of the Lower Sixth. He could be interesting and funny but was a bit of a dope-head. We didn’t last long because I got bored of watching his eyes glaze over and listening to the rubbish he spouted when he was stoned.

  Finn O’Brady

  I should really cross him off. He belongs more on a wish list than as part of my love life so far. I know h
e’s a total waste of time because loads of people fancy him and I doubt he even knows that I exist. He’s lead singer of a band called Minted and is as cute as hell, with girls lining up for him. I met him when Effy and I signed up to be part of a local team putting together a magazine for six schools around the North London area. Finn’s in the Upper Sixth at a school down the road from ours and he’s the editor. The magazine is called Chillaxin. So far, although I’ve been to two of the meetings, I don’t think he even knows my name.

  And that was the whole list, apart from Owen, so, all in all, my love life so far has left me with a feeling that boys just do your head in.

  Owen is the exception. He’s Effy’s older brother and we were a couple for a while, for a few months in fact, but he always felt more like my brother than my boyfriend. He’s a nice guy, very grown-up and protective. ‘You’re perfect for each other,’ everyone said. ‘So many shared interests. So alike.’ And they were right. We could talk for hours about books and music, the world and how we were going to change it. We did have a lot in common, but someone who’s the same as me isn’t really what I want. Kissing Owen was like eating plain yoghurt. Good for you, but bland. And he used to have a shiny spot on the end of his nose which, though I know it was shallow of me, I couldn’t help but focus on whenever he puckered up and moved in. I just thought, ew, pass me the Clearasil. Not exactly how I imagined true love’s kiss to be.

  OK, so maybe a relationship isn’t going to be like a Disney movie, with a heart formation of bluebirds tweeting away in the background, but surely it isn’t too much to ask for someone colourful and exciting? And scorching hot. I want someone who’ll burst into my life like a flame and challenge me. Make me think. Turn my insides to liquid honey and make my toes curl. Though that sounds like a case of E.coli. What I mean is, I want to feel something. A pull. A longing. Desire. I want Heathcliff from Wuthering Heights, wild and passionate. Or maybe not . . . He was a nutter with mad hair and obsessed with Cathy’s ghost. Someone like him would be way too high maintenance as a boyfriend. Who else sounds right? Edward from Twilight – the most dangerous and charismatic boy in the school? OK, maybe not him, either. Someone who drinks blood for kicks is probably not the most suitable guy and, anyway, vampires are so last decade. I just want Finn O’Brady.