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Authors: Connell O'Tyne

A Royal Match (44 page)

BOOK: A Royal Match
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‘I was saying, Mummy, Poppy and I sat in the front row at his last show in Paris and he totally adored us. Well, me more than Mummy or Poppy.’ She giggled. ‘They were tearing their false nails out with jealousy.’ She laughed her hyena laugh, only the iron beak made it sound like an exhaust pipe exploding on an old car.

‘He’s got a boyfriend, hasn’t he?’ I hazarded.

‘Oh, Calypso,’ she hooted. ‘Even gay men like girls like
me.’

‘Of course they do,’ I replied as I wandered into the en suite to take a shower and smother my laughter.

‘I did mean it before though, Calypso. I am genuinely sorry, about, you know, deleting your messages from Billy.’

I came back into the room. Honey had just said the word ‘sorry’ again, and more relevantly she increasingly sounded like she actually meant it. I was so shocked I said, ‘Okay, it’s fine,’ even though I didn’t mean it. ‘But in the
future I’d rather you didn’t help yourself to my mobile, Honey.’

‘I was surprised that there weren’t any messages from Freddie, darling,’ Honey added, looking pointedly at Portia, who was tidying up her area.

I glanced at Portia as I replied, ‘Oh, I suspect he’s seeing someone else.’ I was trying to get a reaction, to test the waters, but Portia went on folding her clothes and putting them away in her drawer as aloof and regal as ever. So I tried harder. ‘Besides, I’ve gone off him, really. Billy and I have got something more special.’

This time Portia looked up, but only because she was noticing that one of the evil fluorescent lights was flickering. She pulled over a chair, stood on it and tapped the tube back in place. Then calmly she went back to the task of tidying her area. It was maddening.

Indie came running into our room and, totally ignoring a bitchy remark from Honey, handed me her phone – a tiny little purple jewel with her name picked out in diamonds around the face.

‘Calypso?’ It was Star’s voice. ‘Your phone isn’t working. Georgina’s tried to call you as well and she said to check that your SIM card is okay.’

‘My SIM card? Why?’ I asked.

‘I don’t know, she didn’t say, but she’s really insisting you check it.’

I looked over at Honey, who was studying her nails with a suspicious amount of intensity. ‘Okay, I will, but I’m
more worried about you. I hate it here without you. We all do. You
are
coming back, aren’t you?’

‘Of course I’ll be coming back. Daddy just wanted to make a point to Sister. But after this week, it’s half term anyway, which means you won’t see me unless you come to my place for the party.’

I tried not to whine but I couldn’t help myself. ‘I
really
want to go to La Fiesta though, Star. I’ve never been.’

‘No, you don’t, Calypso. Believe me, they are tragic!’ she assured me. ‘And full of plebs, and we’re too old for that rubbish anyway. Even the Year Eights go now.’

‘But the cashmere tops and the skirts – and the shoes. We bought the whole outfit,’ I pleaded desperately.

‘They’re just clothes, darling! Please say you’ll come; everyone else is coming. We can wear the outfits at my place. We can wear them all week if you like. Imagine it: we could waft about in them like stunning figurines from the nineteen-thirties. Daddy said we can use the recording studio for the last track. I want you to be part of it, Calypso, you know, on the CD? It was Indie’s idea.’

‘But I can’t sing for toast.’

‘No, on instrumentals.’

‘And what instrument would that be, exactly?’ I asked, a smile beginning to spread across my face.

‘I don’t know … triangle?’

‘Triangle?’

‘Don’t mock the triangle, darling. It’s a very underrated instrument.’

‘It does sound fun,’ I agreed, almost, but not quite tempted. Well, not enough to forgo my dream of La Fiesta anyway. I knew I should get over myself, but a dream is a dream, and Bob is always telling me to hang on to my dreams.

‘So you’ll come?’

I was noncommittal. ‘Well, the thought of wafting about in bejewelled cashmere like nineteen-thirties figurines and playing the triangle does have a certain appeal.’

The truth was I saw myself as a tragic Cinderella who had forever been barred from the ball. Calypso, the proverbial underdog (that’s me) was finally and firmly determined to put a stop to all those who would prevent her from attending the ball, be they Draconian parents or my closest friends.

And though I know Star loved me, she didn’t really understand. She’d been to loads of balls whereas I’d never been to one. An irrational part of me was even a bit cross with Star for not understanding and being so stubborn when she knew how long and how much I’d wanted to go to this ball. We’d spoken of little else in LA, and Georgina and Star were the ones who’d persuaded my parents to let me go.

Star stuck the emotional thumbscrews on me. ‘Kevin’s coming to stay and so is Billy. Loads and loads of Eades
boys are coming, coach-loads of them, and I’m inviting some of the fit boys from the village as well.’

‘Billy will be there?’ I said it out loud so Portia would hear, but she merely walked into the en suite and turned the water on loudly.

‘Yes, he’s spending the whole week, and Freddie’s going to the Annual Euro Royal Bash Thingamee, so please come.’

‘Maybe I will come,’ I agreed. The truth was though, it was all a pose. Hearing Kevin’s and Billy’s names together only reminded me of Freddie, and that just reminded me that he wouldn’t be at
my
ball but at the wretched Annual Euro Royal Bash Thingamee with Portia. And as lovely and fit as Billy was … he wasn’t Freds.

‘How is Georgina? Is she coming back? There are all sorts of rumours going around.’

‘Of course she’s coming. Everyone who matters is coming. Indie is coming straight after the ball.’

I wished I could go after the ball too, but the train fare from London was about a hundred quid or more, and all I had was thirty-seven pounds left to last me until after half term.

I changed the subject back to Georgina. ‘No, I mean, is she coming back to school?’

Star seemed surprised by my question. ‘Why wouldn’t she be coming back?’

‘It’s just that everyone’s saying she’s been expelled for having that flask of vodka.’

I heard her giggle echoing down the phone. ‘Oh yes, I can just imagine. Saint Augustine’s waving goodbye to Tobias’s school fees as well as hers. Tobias doesn’t require a bed and doesn’t eat, so it’s a 25,000-pound drop in the coffers as far as the school is concerned. And don’t forget, Calypso, Tobias was caught with the vodka, not Georgina. They can’t pin it on her. Tobias has been suspended for a week for having vodka; Georgina has only been suspended for helping a fellow student conceal vodka.’

‘Seriously?’

Our conversation was interrupted by Miss Bibsmore. ‘Mobiles! After nine? Hand me that mobile immediately, Miss Kelly.’

I gave Indie a regretful look as I handed over her jewel to Miss Bibsmore. I expected Miss Bibsmore just to plop it in her pocket, but instead she turned it over and over in her hand, marvelling at its beauty.

‘Well, perhaps you best hang on to this one, Indie. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for something so lovely.’ She handed it over to Indie and blushed.

‘Thank you, Miss Bibsmore,’ Indie smiled.

‘But you can ‘and yours in, Miss O’Hare, right now.’

‘What about everyone else?’ Honey hooted through her iron beak. No one else had mentioned her iron beak whatsoever – but everyone knew full well that she was only wearing it for attention and to try and make a point about Star injuring her.

‘I’m not talking to everyone else so mind your own beeswax.’

‘Beeswax? Sorry, no idea what that might be Miss B,’ she said, her attempt at sounding innocent rattling through her beak like a coin dropping down a drainpipe. ‘I don’t speak
pleb
slang.’

‘It’s the gunk inside your head that you use for a brain, Miss O’Hare. I don’t claim to be intelligent and I might well be what your type refers to as common an’ all, but at least I don’t gad about with a bit of tin plonked on my nose.’

‘Ugh!’ Honey screamed in outrage. ‘I was told to wear this nose guard after being assaulted by a dangerous criminal who has yet to be brought to justice.’

‘Well, as far as I can see you’re on the loose an’ all, so unless this other dangerous criminal has a mobile as needs handin’ in, I’m not interested.’ Miss Bibsmore stuck her gnarled wrinkly hand out for Honey’s mobile.

‘I’m soooo going to complain to Daddy.’

‘I’ve no doubt you will.’

‘I don’t know what could be holding his solicitors up. I really don’t. A person like you shouldn’t be allowed to take valuable possessions from people like me! It’s outrageous. How do I know you’re not going to ring up all your hideous plebbie relatives on it?’

‘You don’t, but I’ll be taking it just the same an’ all, thank you. Though if I were you, Miss O’Hare, I wouldn’t go planting ideas like that in a plebbie head like mine,’ she cackled.

Honey slammed her mobile in Miss Bibsmore’s outstretched hand but didn’t let it go. ‘Before you take it, I actually need to ring that vet to make sure he’s put that hideous, deformed rabbit out of my misery.’

Miss Bibsmore clenched her hand around Honey’s hand. ‘No need. I’ve spoken to the vet, and a nicer man I’ve yet to meet. I told ‘im I’ll be looking after that poor creature from now on, and ‘e’s more or less agreed to drop his report as long as the likes of you are prohibited from keeping pets at Saint Augustine’s.’

‘Oh, that’s really sweet, Miss Bibsmore,’ Indie told her, and Miss Bibsmore rewarded her with an awkward little cuddle.

‘You’re a lovely girl, you are, Indiamaca – a
real
princess. A girl that certain other girls should look to for guidance. But off to your own room with you now. It’s lights out soon. Hail Mary …,’ she began, and we joined her in a few Hail Marys before she switched off our light and shuffled off.

Alone with Portia and Honey in the dark, I turned on my torch and opened up my mobile to check on the SIM card, and there it was, safe and sound.

I went into my mobile’s phone book so that I could txt Georgina and reassure her all was fine on the SIM card front, but when I went into my address book it was empty.

‘This is weird. My address book is empty?’ I said out loud.

‘I don’t see why she didn’t take
your
phone,’ Honey whined.

‘Probably didn’t think it was worth taking,’ I told her.

‘I was speaking to Portia, darling,’ said Honey.

Portia didn’t reply.

After a while Honey said, ‘Besides, your phone is such a brick. Your SIM card is probably dying.’

‘I guess,’ I agreed, while not entirely convinced. It wouldn’t have surprised me if Honey had deleted my address book. I shone my torch light in her face, but she didn’t look the least bit guilty or worried. I pressed the point anyway. ‘You didn’t interfere with my address book, did you?’

‘Moi? Darling, what a horrible thing to suggest. What sort of girl do you think I am?’ she cried out indignantly.

I didn’t dwell on my broken phone for long though, because Clemmie and Arabella, cuddled up in their duvets, crept into our room. They were followed closely by Indie, cuddled up in hers. ‘We’ve got Body Shop Specials and loads of tuck, so just grab your duvets,’ Arabella ordered. ‘Oh, and your fags and torches.’

TWENTY-NINE:
Moi? Self-Centred?
 

 

It wasn’t as easy to sneak out of the main building as it was when we were housed in Cleathorpes. Even though we were only two floors up and had the benefit of scaffolding to climb down, we’d definitely be splattered on the lawn below if we slipped and fell. The climb wasn’t going to be easy holding torches, sweets, Body Shop Specials, duvets, fags and pillows.

‘Let’s wrap it all up in a sheet and I’ll climb down first,’ I suggested gamely. ‘Then when I’m safe, toss me the bundle and the rest of you can climb down.’

‘I’ll climb down with you,’ Portia said as civilly as ever. ‘The bundle will be too heavy for one of us to catch.’

‘This scaffolding is freezing,’ I remarked to her as we started down, hoping to draw some warmth from her cold civility, but she didn’t have a chance to reply even if she had wanted to, because no sooner had we touched our toes on the lawn than Indie threw the bundle down and we had to grapple with that. Portia was right, I would never have managed it on my own.

Indie was the next down, followed by Arabella, Clemmie, and finally Honey, whose iron beak kept chinking on the scaffolding. We made our dash across to Pullers’ Wood in super fast time, because even though it was a mild night, the grass beneath our trainer-clad feet was freezing.

We made our nest in a little clearing, spreading out our duvets and setting up our tuck. It was just like last year, only without Star and Georgina. Even the moon was full, which meant it was so bright we didn’t need the torches once our eyes adjusted.

Indie told me that Star had called again. ‘She’s insisting that you to go to her place for the half term break.’

‘Well, as I’ve nowhere to stay in London, I’ll have to, I suppose,’ I conceded.

Honey sat up and prodded me with her foot. ‘But I said you can stay at my house. We’ll have the whole place to ourselves, apart from the servants, obviously.’

BOOK: A Royal Match
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