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Authors: Connell O'Tyne

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BOOK: A Royal Match
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I bumped into Kevin on the Kings Road a few times and he said that I wasn’t to worry, as it was game on with Freddie and me, as far as he knew. I didn’t dare mention his brother – although Kevin did say Billy was studying. I know that as he was in Year Eleven he probably was – but I still couldn’t help imagining him with Poppy.

On the last day of half-term, while we were sipping lattés on the Kings Road, Georgina brought up Bob’s mad invitation to visit LA in the summer.

I stared into my milky drink.

‘The thing is, darling, Star and I have asked our parents and we’re coming.’

‘Oh,’ I said, trying not to make it sound like a groan of pain. It wasn’t that I wouldn’t have loved spending the summer with them; it was just that I knew Sarah and Bob could never afford the first-class travel and entertainment they’d expect. ‘That is, are you sure? I mean LA’s pretty dull in the summertime.’

Star pitched in. ‘Well, my dad spoke to your dad last night and it’s all arranged. My whole family’s going and I’ve invited Georgina because she was only going to spend
the summer with her family in the south of France –’

‘Which would be boring beyond belief,’ Georgina added. ‘All we do is go out on the
bâteau
and lie in the sun and eat loads and loads of really fattening food. I’d much rather be on the Atkins diet with you in Malibu.’

‘I don’t live in Malibu!’ I insisted, looking up from my drink for the first time to see Georgina and Star grinning at each other.

‘Darling, don’t be so mad. You really are the most awful snob,’ Georgina declared. ‘As if we mind where you live. Besides, Sarah told us she had a new PA, and he’s not gay!’

Clemmie and Arabella admitted that they were madly jealous and wished they come to LA too, but that they were already booked to go on a safari in Kenya with Arabella’s family.

So that was that. Georgina’s parents sent us all back to school in the family Rolls Royce and then Georgina gave Miles, the chauffeur, a fifty-pound note to carry all our bags up to Cleathorpes and unpack for us so that we could race off and settle Dorothy Parker back in the pet shed.

It was a far cry from my inauspicious arrival at the start of term.

The second half of the term was crammed with study. Our teachers must have held a heinous meeting over the half-term break about not being cruel enough to us because they were really putting the pressure on us now. They said we needed to start adopting a more serious attitude to our
work and went on and on about how important the next school year was going to be because we’d be starting our GCSEs and ‘defining our futures.’

Yawn.

‘Your lives depend on the grit and determination with which you apply yourself to your studies, girls!’ they trilled every moment of the day.

But finally the day came when our last piece of work for the term was handed in and we were able to put into action the dream of every self-respecting Saint Augustine girl. The legendary midnight dash to London to Fabric, where Georgina’s brother knew someone who knew someone who could get us all in.

We went to bed in our trackie bums and hoodies, our party dresses and shoes and make-up in our gym bags by our beds. Miss Cribbe turned our lights off at ten and we even let her give us big beardy kisses on our cheeks. In fact, we even let Misty lick us to keep Miss Cribbe sweet.

‘Aren’t you lovely little girlsies? Misty loves her wittle girlsie-whirlsies, doesn’t she, Misty?’

Misty showed her love with a big smelly fart and Miss Cribbe bustled her out of the room as if nothing had happened.

Actually, none of us hated Misty nearly as much now since she’d weed on Honey’s duvet.

As soon as the clock hit half-past ten, we all snuck downstairs and climbed out of the bursar’s window. Honey (we had to include her or she would have told on us),
Clemmie and Arabella were already outside waiting for us.

We dashed into Puller’s Woods and changed into our party gear, hiding our gym bags under leaves and fallen branches.

The plan – perfect in all its details – was to dash to the train station and catch the 23:23 to London (having successfully dodged guard dogs, security men and the electric barbed-wire fencing that surrounded the school grounds).

Once in London we would dance ourselves stupid at Fabric and pull older fit boys before catching the 6:03 back to the station.

It was the perfect plan. Next year we would regale the Year Ten girls with tales of
our
Midnight Raving.

When we got back from London, we’d dig our bags back out from their hiding places and change back into our trackie bums and hoodies and stick our clubbing gear back in our bags, hide them back under the leaves and jog off to breakfast. If anyone saw us dashing back to our rooms, we’d simply say we’d been for a run. How athletic and disciplined were we?

We’d then collect our gym bags from the woods at lunch, giving the smokers a chance for a quick fag.

Like I said, the perfect plan …

Unfortunately, the guard dogs discovered us just as we finished changing – which meant I only got as far as up an oak tree while a vicious, bloodthirsty Alsatian barked and bared its fearsome teeth at me from below.

The other girls, who didn’t share my fear of dogs, tried to persuade me to leg it with them, but my dog didn’t look like the type to let me escape with my legs.

Honey didn’t even bother with me or anyone else. She just ran off back to the dorm and eventually the other girls followed, although they at least promised that they would come back and save me later.

I watched them disappear through the woods, hotly pursued by the dogs (not mine). I guess all our crosscountry running hadn’t been for nothing, as none of them was dragged down and mauled.

Half an hour later my dog was still growling and salivating at the thought of tearing me limb from limb. I started to cry, imagining myself being discovered by a security guy and reported to Sister Constance and being excluded from the trip to the village school in Gambia.

‘Talk about random,’ I whimpered to myself and then it happened.

A torch illuminated my face. The security guys had finally found me. I began to cry harder, not that I thought tears would in any way get me out of this …

‘Calypso?’

I looked down. Instead of the burly, mean security guy I was expecting, there was Billy, standing at the foot of my tree and grinning from ear to ear. He had the dog by the collar.

‘I’ve often dreamed of what you girls get up to at Saint Augustine’s after lights out, but I have to admit this particular fantasy hasn’t featured.’

‘Oh, shut up,’ I said. I couldn’t help smiling, even though I tried my best to look cool, collected and unamused.

‘Nice dress.’

‘Thanks.’

The dog was whimpering and licking Billy’s hand now.

‘Do you usually dress up for midnight tree-climbing?’ he asked.

‘Always. A girl can never be too stylish.’

I couldn’t believe I was being so fabulously collected. I mean, the quality of my repartee was phenomenal. Dorothy Parker – the writer, not the rabbit – would be proud.

‘The grey knickers being the
pièce de résistance
, of course,’ he added.

I was wearing my big grey knickers – well, they’d started off white, but Matron had managed to turn them grey in the wash along with all my bras and gym skirts. Unlike the other girls’ parents, Sarah and Bob wouldn’t allow me to wear sexy Calvin Klein knickers. ‘Not at your age, sweetheart!’ Bob had ruled, and at thirty pounds a pair I simply didn’t have the resources – not even with my increased allowance.

‘So, are you coming down, then?’ he asked. ‘Or do you usually wait for dawn to break?’

Ha, ha, very amusing. But see, here was the thing. Climbing up the tree had been a breeze; I’d been driven by pure adrenaline. But clambering down without looking graceless, destroying my dress and scratching myself to pieces was another matter.

‘Shall I catch you?’ he asked, sensing my hesitation.

I know it sounds like a nice offer, but if you’d seen the smirk on his face you would have wanted to slap it.

‘Well …?’

God, I so wanted to say no.

‘It’s fine – just sort of throw yourself backwards and fall and I’ll be here to catch you. That way you won’t scratch yourself.’

Yaah, right.

But I did it anyway. OK, so it wasn’t my most graceful moment – plopping backwards out of a tree into the arms of a gorgeous boy who made me feel all wobbly inside. But it was nice. Especially the part where he held me in his arms for a bit, before placing me on the ground. (Note: He smelled delish.) The Alsatian even gave me a little lick.

For a minute I thought Billy was going to kiss me – or rather, that I was going to kiss him – but then I remembered Poppy and started brushing the bark off my dress dementedly.

‘You’re seeing Freddie, aren’t you?’ he went.

‘Erm, well, I’m not actually sure.’

Billy laughed.

‘You’re seeing Poppy, though,’ I reminded him.

‘I so am not. That’s what I’ve just been doing at Saint Augustine’s. I told her in the break we weren’t an item, but she kept texting me and pretending we were. I figured I’d better have a face-to-face with her.’

‘Just now?’

He nodded. ‘Yaah, just now. What, do you think I just escaped from Eades and struggled with the electric barbed-wire fencing for a stroll in the woods?’

‘So it’s all over with Poppy?’ I pretended to be all casual and cool about it – and not turning bright red.

‘Yes, but that’s enough about me. Tell me about you and Freddie. What’s the deal?’

I wished I had a simple answer. Even more important, I wished I knew what I wanted the simple answer to be.

Then suddenly Billy whispered, ‘Shit, I’ve got to leg it – so do you. Here comes a security man. I’ll text you.’

I didn’t have time to ruminate on our encounter as I sprinted back to the dorm.

I told Georgina and Star about Billy in a whispered voice. It all sounded very nice and romantic, but how was he going to get my mobile number?

‘Is it possible to fancy two boys at the same time?’ I asked Star as we were lying in bed, too exhilarated by the evening’s events to sleep.

‘Absolutely, darling,’ Georgina pitched in. ‘In fact, it’s normal.’

I wasn’t so sure, though. The thing with Freddie was very troubling, what with all his security men and the paparazzi, but then, he is a prince, so maybe that’s all part of the royal package?

On the other hand, Billy was sooo fit and hadn’t given me the least bit of trouble. In fact, he’d saved me from a ferocious dog and a tree.

Then again, I couldn’t stop thinking of the night I’d pulled Freddie and how lovely kissing him had been.

I could see I was going to have a lot on my mind over the summer holidays.

 
STEALING PRINCES
 

• • •

 

Having pulled your boy and found him to be a prince, you might want to kiss him twice … just to be sure!

 

 
ONE:
The Agony and the Txt-acy of Flirt-Txting Two Boys at Once
 

 

I was standing in the en garde line, wired to the electrical recording device which would register hits (should I be lucky enough to get any). I saluted my opponent casually and focused. Well, I focused as best a girl can when she’s about to fence one of the fittest boys in all the world.

BOOK: A Royal Match
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ads

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