Secrets of a Teenage Heiress

by Katy Birchall

  ‘I wasn’t trying to impress him. I just –’

  ‘I don’t know why you worship that guy anyway,’ Cal snorted, turning another page.

  OK, no one reads that fast, not even nerds like Cal. He was totally doing the page-flicking thing to make me think he didn’t care and to rile me up. And it was not working. Not one little bit.

  ‘Would you STOP turning the pages like that. It’s so annoying.’

  (Fine, it was sort of working.)

  ‘My page-turning is annoying you?’ Cal finally looked up with this stupid bemused look on his face. URGH he was the worst!

  ‘Look, I do not worship Ethan Duke. I like him. He’s very nice and hard-working. You have no idea what he’s like.’

  ‘I know he cares more about his appearance than anything else.’

  ‘That is not true! If you talked to him –’

  ‘I don’t have to talk to him, I can tell from his vlogs.’

  ‘You have watched Ethan Duke’s vlogs?’ I had to admit I was kind of taken aback by this information. Cal was not really a vlog-watching kind of person.

  ‘Just a couple of them recently,’ he said defensively, shifting his feet. ‘Did he even talk to you properly at the party?’

  ‘Yes!’ I lied. ‘We had loads of deep and meaningful conversations! About . . . lots of stuff.’

  ‘Sure.’ Cal shut his book. ‘If you see my dad around, tell him I’m waiting for him outside.’

  After that, I wondered why I missed him at all. He was so pompous and self-important. ARGH. He made me so angry, up there on his high horse as though he was some kind of wise old man in a lame fairy tale, lurking at every corner ready to tell you what to do and make you feel guilty about everything.

  I decided to try to avoid him around the hotel, so I spent most of the time in the flat with Fritz, attempting to keep myself busy. Which is how Mum found me doing homework on a Saturday morning. ‘You know,’ I said, holding up Lord of the Flies as she leaned on the door frame, ‘this book is actually quite good.’

  ‘I’m sure William Golding would value your opinion.’

  ‘I mean it. I’m redoing my essay on it.’

  Mum gave me a strange look. ‘Voluntarily?’

  ‘Sort of. I got an E on the last one but I hadn’t actually read the book then, so Miss Weatherton said if I wanted to have another shot, she’d mark it. I have to get it in before the end of term though.’

  ‘What’s with the sudden work ethic?’ Mum went to sit down on my bed and I swivelled to face her.

  ‘Nothing.’ I shrugged. ‘Olly was just talking about Lord of the Flies the other day and he said that there –’

  ‘Olly?’ she interrupted.

  ‘Grace’s brother.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘He said he thought I should try reading it. Him and Grace are really into books and music and stuff. They’re both super-intelligent. I don’t really understand what they’re talking about most of the time, so it would be nice to join in at least one conversation.’

  She nodded. ‘Well, tell him thanks from me. So, do you think you might give yourself a break for a few hours?’

  ‘How come?’

  ‘I need your help with something.’ She looked at her watch. ‘I need you ready to go in five minutes. I’ll tell Jamie to look after Fritz today. We have an errand to run.’

  A while later we were walking down Bond Street and Mum was telling me about the time she’d had to solve the dilemma of two high-profile guests each demanding the same room.

  ‘The key is to make every guest feel special. Their stay at Hotel Royale is a personal experience. Just like you did with Skylar Chase. You made her feel like she was the most important guest at the hotel.’

  ‘She was the most important guest at the hotel.’

  ‘No.  Every guest is the most important guest at the hotel. Does that make sense?’

  ‘I guess.’

  She stopped in the middle of the pavement and looked down at me with a serious expression on her face.

  ‘Flick, do you know why the Christmas Ball is so important to me?’

  ‘Yeah! Because it’s the biggest and most famous social event of the year,’ I replied confidently.

  ‘Well, that’s certainly true, but it’s not the reason why it’s so important to me personally.’

  ‘Is it because you love Chef ’s Christmas chocolate mousse?’

  ‘Another excellent point, but not quite right.’ She smiled. ‘It’s because it’s important to you.’

  I looked at her blankly.

  ‘When your father and I split up all those years ago around this time, I was terrified that you would start hating Christmas. Did it ever occur to you that the first ever Royale Christmas Ball was that same year?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘Matthew and I had the idea to put on the most magical Christmas event we could think of, so you would have a wonderful night. And you did. It’s your favourite event of the year, right? Because the Hotel Royale Christmas Ball is all for you. It always has been, right from the start.’

  I couldn’t believe what she was saying. That her and Matthew had been in it together from the very start just to make me happy seemed completely baffling. It was the nicest thing ever. I felt so overwhelmed that my eyes began to fill with tears at the thought of it all.

  Which is lame but we were totally having a moment so whatever.

  ‘Mum,’ I whispered, ‘I never had any idea.’

  She smiled down at me.

  ‘Well, as you’ve been so brilliant recently, and as it is, after all, your party . . .’ She turned round and pointed up at the shop name under which we were standing: Lewis Blume. ‘I think we had better go and pick up your dress.’

  Good seeing you at Sky’s party. Where shall I meet you for the ball?

  Hey Ethan! Good seeing you too. Matthew will show you where to go, don’t worry. Are you excited?

  Yeah, it’s going to be fun

  He didn’t ask me a question

  Who didn’t?

  Ethan. He texted me and then I replied with a question and then he answered it

  Isn’t that a good thing?

  No. He’s meant to ask me a question too, so I can reply. Now I can’t reply

  Why don’t you just ask him another question?

  Grace, I can’t do that!

  This is all very confusing. You want me to ask Olly?

  NO OH MY GOD

  DO NOT ASK YOUR BROTHER, STOP ASKING HIM THINGS

  Whoa, OK, I won’t ask him! I can’t believe Ethan Duke is taking you to the Christmas Ball. You are living the dream

  Speaking of the ball, I have something to ask you . . .

  Want me to look after Fritz?

  No, I wanted to ask if you can come to the ball? You’re invited

  Hello? Grace? Are you there?

  Sorry. I’m in shock. Did you just ask if I want to come to the Hotel Royale Christmas Ball?

  Yes, I did. You want to come?

  OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG YES YES YES YES YES YES YES

  Haha! Good! And you get a plus one if there’s anyone you want to bring

  THIS IS SO AMAZING

  I’ll call you tomorrow

  THIS IS THE BEST EVER. I CAN’T COPE

  Night, Grace xxx

  I’M LYING ON THE GROUND AGAIN

  The day before the ball, I was sliding down the bannister of the main staircase, minding my own business, when I flew off the end, straight into Cal Weston. We tumbled to the floor, landing at the feet of the London mayor, who very kindly helped me up.

  ‘Nice to see you too,’ Cal grumbled, scrambling to his feet, as Audrey escorted the mayor through to the restaurant with a pointed glare at me over her shoulder.

  ‘You shouldn’t come round corners so fast.’

  ‘You shouldn’t be sliding down the bannister.’

  I awkwardly picked carpet fluff off my jumper as he bent down to pick up a folder he’d been carrying. I hadn�
�t spoken to him since the page-turning conversation. He definitely hadn’t been getting in anyone’s way at the hotel lately – in fact I’d barely seen him in the midst of the Christmas Ball lead-up chaos.

  The hotel was now officially a Christmas wonderland, with the big tree up and decorations everywhere you looked. Mum had even put aside an evening to decorate the flat with me, which hadn’t happened in years. Sure, our decorations were not quite as elegant as the hotel’s, but, in my personal opinion, you can never have too many fairy lights. I’m not sure Fritz agrees. When I turned them on, he got such a fright that he barked madly at them, and now he just sits underneath the mantelpiece for hours, staring at the wires across it suspiciously until I switch them on and the barking begins again. For his (and Mum’s) sanity, I’ve been keeping him out of the flat and he’s been chilling in reception with Matthew, greeting guests dressed in his Santa’s Little Helper suit. It goes down a treat. A picture on Fritz’s Instagram of him in his outfit posing with Prince Harry got 47,000 likes.

  Since that response, Fritz had become quite the diva. He turned up his nose at a crisp I offered him and then later on that day I found him downstairs munching on a plate of salmon that Sasha had prepared especially for him.

  ‘I was actually looking for you,’ Cal admitted, when I’d finished brushing myself down. ‘I didn’t quite expect you to launch yourself at me but –’

  I rolled my eyes. ‘I didn’t launch myself at you, you got in my way.’

  ‘I wanted to tell you that I came second. In the journalism competition. Runner-up.’

  ‘That’s . . . amazing!’

  ‘I was pretty shocked. I wasn’t expecting to get anywhere with it.’

  ‘Cal, that is so great! I can’t believe Matthew didn’t tell me!’

  He looked down at his feet. ‘I told him not to.’

  ‘Oh.’ I nodded, looking down at mine. ‘Sure.’

  ‘The ceremony is tomorrow night. I have to go and collect my award from Nicholas Huntley.’

  ‘Wow, you are going to be so star-struck.’

  ‘Yeah.’ He smiled. ‘Although, I’m sad to be missing the ball.’

  ‘The ball! Right! That’s tomorrow.’

  ‘I’ll try to make it for the fireworks. They’re always the best bit.’

  ‘They are.’

  ‘Remember how we always used to go sit up on the –’

  ‘Yeah, that was the best.’

  He held the thin plastic folder out to me.

  ‘What is this?’ I asked, taking it.

  ‘It’s my feature. The one I entered into the competition. I wanted you to read it.’

  ‘Really? What is it about?’

  ‘Read it and see. I think you’ll like it.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘No worries.’ He shoved his hands in his pockets.

  ‘Cal.’ I waited for his eyes to come up and meet mine. ‘Uh . . . I’m not just sorry about what I said at the party to Ethan Duke. I’m sorry for getting all wrapped up in going to the Christmas Ball and forgetting about . . . well, this. The article. Although, looks like you didn’t need me in the end anyway, so that’s . . . good.’

  ‘Thanks.’ He nodded and then gestured at the door. ‘I’d better get going. Enjoy the ball.’

  I watched him leave and then pulled the article out of its folder.

  The following evening, Sky met me on the first floor at the top of the staircase. I actually gasped when I saw her, that’s how beautiful she looked. She was wearing a strapless, slinky, figure-hugging gold gown with long diamond earrings and a diamond-studded clutch. Her dark wavy hair had been swept to one side, and pinned so that it tumbled over her left shoulder, and she’d really gone all out on the smoky-eye look, with thick black eyeliner and long full eyelashes.

  ‘You look incredible,’ she declared, as she held out my hands and looked me up and down. ‘Lewis has done it yet again.’

  I had to agree that Lewis Blume had not done a bad job. All that measuring and poking me with pins on my shopping trip with Mum had totally been worth it. My dress was emerald green with a high neckline and a full skirt, so that when I twirled, it swished about very satisfactorily. It was the most beautiful dress I’d ever worn and when I had put it on, Mum’s eyes welled up – which NEVER happens – and she made an excuse about finding Fritz’s Santa hat so she could leave the room. My hair had been curled and pinned up, with some loose tendrils tumbling down around my face, sprayed perfectly into place. I looked a lot more grown up than I felt. The idea of having a date at the Christmas Ball this year, especially such a handsome one, was making my hands very clammy.

  I really needed to buy that portable fan.

  ‘By the way,’ Sky said, as one of her assistants fiddled with the bottom of the dress, ‘I read the article. It’s amazing.’

  I had left Cal’s feature on Sky’s bed for when she flew in late the night before, as I knew I’d be so busy helping Mum with last-minute preparations that I might not be able to talk to her about it.

  ‘He really captures the hotel, and all the history of it and the interviews with the staff were so interesting,’ she enthused. ‘And you get a very special mention right at the end.’

  I blushed as I remembered the sentence she was referring to. I’d read it so many times, I’d memorised it.

  The hard-working staff are full of passion and pride. The owner, Christine Royale, is the brains of the operation. And at the heart of it all is her daughter Flick – a sprinkle of fun who reminds us what Hotel Royale really is: a home. And, in the words of Dorothy, there’s no place like it.

  ‘Right, you’re ready to go,’ Sky’s assistant announced, straightening up.

  ‘One quick thing,’ Sky said to me, squeezing my hand. ‘I thought you said that the deal had been for him to write the article about me after he’d helped you out at the hotel.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Don’t you think it’s strange that he’d make that deal?’

  ‘What do you mean? It was an excellent deal.’

  ‘But when I saw Audrey this morning and mentioned the article, she said that the whole reason she’d suggested Cal teach you about the hotel was because she knew he had interviewed everyone here for the feature he was writing. That’s how he knew more than anyone else.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘Why would he then make a deal for an interview with me? He didn’t need it. He already had his entry for the competition. So why spend all that time helping you, for something he didn’t need in return?’

  Her assistant coughed. ‘Sorry, Sky, Prince Gustav Xavier III is waiting.’

  ‘WAIT. WHAT?’ I blinked at Sky. ‘PRINCE GUSTAV IS YOUR DATE?’

  ‘He is so dreamy,’ she said, as her assistant checked her dress again.

  ‘But . . . isn’t he a bit . . . I don’t know . . . ’ I searched for the word and failed. ‘I mean, he didn’t even have an Instagram page until a couple of months ago. And . . . he didn’t know how to take a selfie! Who doesn’t know how to take a selfie?’

  ‘It’s so nice, isn’t it?’ She sighed. ‘He’s not into that kind of thing at all. It’s such a breath of fresh air. My last boyfriend wouldn’t stop taking photos of everything we did. Prince Gustav actually listens when you talk because he’s not busy picking a filter.’

  ‘Isn’t there a word for that? Old?’

  ‘He’s in his twenties, Flick!’ She giggled. ‘He’s just never really got into the whole social media thing. His Instagram page is really coming along, though.’

  ‘Oh. Well, OK then.’

  Sky let go of my hand and winked at me. ‘Eek! I’ll see you down there.’

  She elegantly swept down the stairs and I peeked over the bannister to see Prince Gustav wearing a blue sash at the bottom of the stairs looking up at her as though he’d just won the lottery. He spotted me and gave me a salute. I waved and then leaned back, shaking my head.

  I did NOT see that one coming.

  I wai
ted at the top of the stairs, listening to the music of the band floating out from the ballroom and thinking over what Sky had said about Cal. I guess it was kind of weird for Cal to have made that deal when he’d already decided to do the hotel piece. But maybe he thought the interview with Sky would be better. Or maybe he was just being nice. Or maybe he had jumped at the opportunity to boss me around?

  I was so deep in thought about it, I didn’t notice Audrey come sidling over from the lift and lean on the bannister next to me.

  ‘Your date is here. Though I can’t say much for his timing. He’s ten minutes late.’

  I jumped to attention, and immediately began straightening my dress.

  ‘Stop fidgeting, you look lovely,’ she said sternly.

  I took a deep breath, put one hand on the bannister and lifted the hem of my dress with the other so I wouldn’t trip, and then made my way downstairs to where Ethan Duke was waiting, looking so handsome, I couldn’t believe he was there for me.

  ‘Nice dress,’ he commented, holding out his arm.

  ‘Thanks.’ I smiled, taking it.

  All eyes were on us as we came through the archway into the ballroom, taking a lot of the attention away from Fritz, who, as usual, was the main star of the show, perched on a velvet armchair by the door wearing his Santa suit.

  The ballroom had been transformed into a winter wonderland. Every year, the decorations for the ball blow me away but this year it seemed even more amazing because I actually knew the work that had gone into it. Every tiny detail had been planned, each bauble and sprig of holly perfectly placed, and I even made Ethan stop to properly admire the crystal chandeliers – which I’d never taken the time to do before – as I knew that someone had been up a very tall ladder the night before, delicately attaching dozens of red and gold bows to the frames.