Summer Secrets (18 page)

Chapter 30

We’re
standing on the doorstep of the Costigans’ rented house. Like everything else in Miami, the house is supersized. As we hike up the huge white marble steps to the front door, a plump green lizard as big as a mouse scuttles in front of our feet, making us jump.

Clover gives a squeal and curls her toes up in her flip-flops. “Gross.” She flaps her hands in the air and pushes me forward, as if I’m her human reptile shield. “I hate those things.”

The lizard stops for a split second, as if it’s checking me out, then scurries off into the shrubbery.

I watch it go and smile. “It’s not going to hurt you.”

“You don’t know that. Maybe they bite.”

“They don’t bite,” someone says.

We look up. Marlon is standing in the doorway, wearing a navy baseball cap, white surfing shorts and a light blue Abercrombie T-shirt. His hair is blonder than I remember.

“Hi, Clover,” he says, his eyes fizzing like sparklers. “Remember me?”

“How could I forget?” Clover grins at him. “How’s Godfather Louis?”

“Good. He sent me a hundred euros for my birthday.”

Clover whistles. “Did he now? Lucky old you.”

“I could take you out to dinner if you like, seeing as I’m flush.”
Ping!
His ears turn bright pink.

“That’s very sweet of you,” says Clover, “but I couldn’t possibly eat up all your birthday money like that. And I don’t think my boyfriend would like it. He’s the jealous type.”

Marlon’s face falls. “Oh.”

“But you can buy me an ice cream or something. How about that?”

“Deal.” He’s staring at her with a big goofy smile on his face. He really is besotted.

Clover must be used to boys gazing at her like that because she doesn’t seem to notice.

“Where’s Mills?” I ask him.

“Downstairs, reading Betty a story. She’s putting her to bed tonight; Mum and Dad are out. They say hi. Mum’s going to take you both to the interview tomorrow. She’ll collect you at ten at your hotel. Message delivered. And now, welcome to our humble abode.” Marlon steps back, sweeping his hand in front of him as if he’s conducting an orchestra. “Please come in.”

“He’s such a freaky little dude,” Clover whispers as we walk up the steps and into the – you guessed it – massive double-height living space. The floor is made of white marble, the walls are stark white and there’s a swirling red and orange abstract painting, as big as the side of a bus, on the wall facing us. A giant red glass chandelier drips from the ceiling. “Wow, wow, wow!” says Clover. “What a place!”

“Wait till you see the swimming pool,” Marlon says. “Did you bring your bikini? Or you could always go topless…” He has a funny look on his face and his ears are pinking up again.

I wrinkle my nose. “Marlon!”

Clover just laughs. “You wish, freakoid.”

“Who’s that, Marlon?” Mills shouts up the stairs.

“Just the pool boy,” Marlon lies easily. “He’s gone now.”

“Oh, OK. Betty won’t go to sleep. Can you find her
Barbie Ballet Dreams
DVD? We’re coming up to watch it.”

Clover pulls me through a doorway and into the kitchen. It’s like something out of a magazine – and so clean! Not a toast crumb in sight. “Quick! Hide,” she says.

I pull open what looks like a cupboard, but it turns out to be a fridge. “Oops.” I laugh.

“She’s coming,” Marlon hisses.

Clover and I run behind the door and I press my hand over my mouth to stop my giggles.

“I think I heard a noise in the kitchen,” I hear Marlon say.

“What kind of noise?” Mills asks from the other side of the door.

“Dunno. You’d better check it out.”

Mills walks cautiously into the kitchen, Betty trailing behind her.

“Now!” Clover whispers.

We jump out and yell “Surprise!”

Mills gasps and jumps at least six inches in the air while Betty starts screaming and Marlon bursts into manic and very girlie giggles.

“Talk about giving me a heart attack,” Mills says. She looks completely shocked. “What are
you
doing here?”

“Clover’s interviewing Matt Munroe for
The Goss
,” I explain. “We’ve just arrived. The Costigans know all about it. We swore them to secrecy.”

Mills beams. “This is
sooooo
cool. I’m
sooooo
pleased to see you.” She gives me a tight hug, almost crushing my ribs.

“Easy, tiger,” I say.

“Sorry.” She lets go of me, but she can’t stop smiling. “I just can’t believe you’re really here. This is so cool. How long are you staying?”

“Only three days, unfortunately.”

We’re interrupted by Betty, who is still sobbing.

“Hush, Betty,” Mills says gently. “You know Clover, and this is my friend Amy. Don’t be scared.”

She’s clutching Mills’s leg, her lower lip wobbling.

“You should have seen your face, Betty,” Marlon says. “Aaagh!” He pulls an exaggerated horror-movie face and laughs. “You’re such a scaredy-cat.”

Mills wipes Betty’s tears away with her fingers. “Let’s find your Barbie movie.”

Finally, after two chocolate bars, a heaped bowl of warm microwaved popcorn and half a Barbie movie, Betty’s eyes start to droop and Mills lifts her down to bed.

Clover gives Marlon ten dollars to skedaddle. He bargains her up to fifteen, then toddles off to play Xbox in his room. We’re alone at last.

“So let’s get down to business, Mills,” Clover says when Mills comes back from putting Betty to bed. “Most importantly, have you met Matt Munroe yet? What’s he like? Is he as dreamy as he looks on screen?”

“More,” Mills says. “He looks much better in the flesh.”

“How much flesh have you seen, exactly?” I ask.

Mills blushes. “Quite a lot, actually. He and Ed are always using the pool.”

“Hang on a minute,” I say, “you mean the Matt you were talking about in your emails is Matt
Munroe
?”

“Of course,” Mills says. “Who did you think I meant?”

Clover stares at Mills. “Let’s get this straight. You’ve been hanging out with Matt Munroe?”

“Yes. And his friend Ed.”

Clover hits her head with her hand. “
Siúcra ducra
, I should have been a better babysitter. We’d probably be the hottest couple in Hollywood by now … photos in all the magazines.” Her eyes twinkle.

“Clover!” I say, giving her a look. She’s read Mills’s emails. She knows how Mills feels about him.

Clover looks sheepish. “Sorry, Mills. I was getting a bit carried away there.”

Mills shrugs. “It’s OK. I was a bit like that too when I first met him. It wears off.”

“Really?” I ask. “You don’t like him any more?”

“I do. But Ed’s fun too, in a different way. He seems more like the boys back home; he loves kidding around and making everyone laugh. Matt’s only sixteen but he’s very mature. I find it hard to talk to him sometimes. But
of course,
I still like him. I’ve seen those pecs up close and personal, remember?”

“So which is it to be?” I ask. “Matt or Ed?”

Mills clicks her tongue. “I can’t decide. I think I like them both. Matt, well, Matt’s Matt – what can I say?” She shrugs. “But Ed’s cute too. But he’s a bit immature compared with Matt. He’s always splashing me in the pool and throwing lumps of ice down my back. Things like that.”

“So many boys,” Clover quips, “so little time. But hey, if Ed’s throwing ice at you he definitely likes you.”

“You think?”

“One hundred per cent.”

Mills smiles. “Wait till you meet Matt. Then you’ll see my dilemma.” She closes her eyes and sighs dreamily.

I snort loudly. “Mills! I think the heat’s getting to you.”

“You just wait, Amy Green,” she says, opening her eyes. “Matt Munroe will make even
you
melt, Miss Ice Queen. I guarantee it.”

Chapter 31

On
Friday morning I wake up at four a.m., five a.m., and again at six-twenty a.m. At six-forty I finally creep out of bed. I’ve been lying ramrod straight, trying not to toss around and wake Clover – but if I have to lie still any longer I’ll go crazy. My watch may read six-forty, but my body clock is saying, “Get up, girl; it’s nearly eleven and I want to explore Miami. You’re wasting precious US of A-mazing time!”

I was so exhausted last night that I didn’t even hear Clover snoring and fell asleep as soon as my jet-lagged head hit the pillow.

We hung out with Mills at the Costigans’ place for as long as I could stay awake. Clover insisted on having a dip in the pool in her bra and knickers – until Mills caught Marlon spying on her and taking snaps with his mobile.

Creeping out of the bedroom, I spot Clover’s copy of
The Goss
lying on the floor. I pick it up and head for the balcony. The sun is already up, playing hopscotch on the turquoise water, which stretches out as far as I can see. The palm trees in the hotel’s grounds sway gently in the early morning breeze. Just offshore there’s a series of small, sandy islands; you could easily swim out to them. Hundreds of expensive-looking white and navy yachts are moored at the marina, their tall masts soaring up into the clear blue sky. It’s stunning, and it’s already warm.

I sit on the lounger and open the magazine to the Efa interview. Clover wanted me to wait to read it until it was printed in
The Goss
and properly laid out with photographs. She picked up a copy, hot off the press, at Cork Airport and I’ve had a quick look but haven’t had the chance to read it properly until now.

Ireland’s Hottest New Star – Efa Valentine
Exclusive interview by Clover M. Wildgust

Efa Valentine, 17, is best known for her recent Oscar-nominated role as Joan of Arc. I caught up with her in her native Cork.

Efa has been acting for most of her life. She landed her first role at the tender age of six, when she played Colin Firth’s stepdaughter in
Miracle Walk
.

“I went to a drama school on Saturday mornings,” Efa explains, “and an Irish casting agent, Rex Costigan, spotted me – that led to my first film.”

Like any ordinary teenager, Efa goes to school – Bandon Grammar – and is taking her Leaving Certificate next year. During filming she has a tutor. “Big exams next year, all right.” She groans. “But I want to go to college, in case the acting doesn’t work out. I’d like to do English at Trinity College, I think. Or maybe history.”

When she’s at home Efa keeps fit by running with her rescue dog, Miley. She keeps in touch with her friends when she’s filming abroad but she doesn’t find being miles from home easy. “My friends are really supportive,” she says. “But when I’m away I miss things – birthdays, parties, that kind of thing.”

And has she encountered any jealousy? “Not really. My friends are pretty cool about everything. They slag me all the time about the awards and stuff. They’re always asking me about my co-stars too. If I’m doing a film with a boy, it’s always, ‘Did you kiss him, Efa?’”

And does she? Kiss her co-stars, I mean. She laughs. “No way! On a film set you’d never get a chance – there’d always be someone watching. And after filming I’m so wrecked I just fall straight into bed.”

But what about back home? Anyone special? “I wish,” she says with a grin. “Any cuties out there, please apply. Seriously, though, at the moment I’m just having fun hanging out with my friends.”

Efa was delighted by her Oscar nomination. “It’s about time us Irish girls started to make a splash in Hollywood. And I had a ball at the Oscars. I even got to keep the Chanel dress I wore – yeah!”

After a hectic year, Efa’s currently reading a couple of possible scripts and catching up with her friends. But watch out, Hollywood: Efa Valentine’s here to stay!

“Morning, sunshine.” Clover grins at me and rubs her eyes. “You’re up early. It’s not even seven.” She looks down at the magazine pages. “What do you think?”

“It’s brilliant, Clover. Really professional. And you got in the question about boyfriends.”

“I certainly did. Thanks to you, Beanie.” She smiles. “I’m pleased with it all right. And the pics look great, don’t they? That red Oscar dress is really something.” Her stomach rumbles loudly. “I’m starving. Let’s have brekkie. Pull on some clothes, Beans; we can grab a shower later. How’s the stomach? Any period cramps?”

“No, I’m OK.”

“Good, then let’s mush, husky.”

Even the breakfast is spectacular. Clover has an omelette specially cooked for her by a cute guy in a sparkling white chef’s outfit. I think she only said “Yes, please” because he was so attractive; she only picks at it. She also has a large bowl of fruit and a chocolate muffin.

I devour two heaped bowls of the sweetest and juiciest watermelon I’ve ever tasted, some scrambled egg, a sausage (not as tasty as an Irish sausage, but nice all the same), two slices of Swiss cheese and a pastry thing with apricot jam and a rich dark yellow custard in the middle. I feel like the Very Hungry Caterpillar, eating and eating and eating until I practically burst.