“Yeah and the daft expression on your face. But you look good for a girl,” said Dan then he looked out the window. “Your limo’s here.”
The boys helped Mum carry the cakes out and we all went out the front to get into the “limo”.
Mum had talked Uncle Kev into giving us a lift up to the hotel in his white van because no way could Mum have carried the cakes on the bus and she wasn’t going to cut into her profit by ordering a taxi. He was there on the dot and I got into the back with two of the cakes while Mum got in the front with another couple on her knee.
“Party time,” I said with a grin as we chugged off. I could hardly wait to get there.
The atmosphere was buzzing when we reached the venue. Ladies in fabulous long evening gowns and men in black suits and bow ties were heading from their cars towards the steps of the hotel. BMWs, Mercedes, Range Rovers, a whole fleet of posh cars were already in the car park and as Uncle Kev drew up, I hoped that no-one was going to see me get out of the old van. I’d almost asked him to drop me on the corner before the hotel but I knew that I wouldn’t have been able to walk the long drive in the shoes that I had borrowed from Mum. They were her best pair with kitten heels and pointy fronts (another charity shop find) plus Mum and Uncle Kev might have thought I was being sniffy about our ride and even though I was, I wouldn’t have wanted to offend them.
“You go on in, poppet,” said Mum when we stopped outside the kitchens round the back. “Go and find Georgie and I’ll see you later.”
I hopped out as quick as I could and raced round the front. It was a media frenzy as limos drove up, celebrities got out and flash bulbs went off as the paparazzi press called at them to look their way while they took photos. Lucky it’s a warm evening, I thought, so everyone really can show off their fab outfits and not have to hide them in coats.
“Hey Tori,” I heard a familiar voice call.
It was Georgie to my right. She looked mint in a soft blue mini dress and her hair up with little silver sparkles in it.
We did a quick muwah, muwah, kiss air to the left, kiss air to the right (the way posh ladies do when they meet up in town).
“You look amazing,” I said as I stepped back.
“Thanks. You do too and wow, I so love your dress. Is it new?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Thanks. It’s a Suzie Tsang. Mum got it for me on her last trip to London.”
“Suzie Tsang? Omigod. I love her stuff. It must have cost a fortune.”
“You’d be shocked if you knew,” I said and gave her my best modest look.
All further talk about our outfits was cut short as another limo drew up and the photographers went ballistic.
“Oh wow!” said Georgie. “Look. It’s Marsha Johnson off the telly!”
Whoever said that money can’t buy happiness? They had clearly never been to an event like this, I thought as we stood and watched famous guest after famous guest arrive, smile for the cameras, then go inside. I couldn’t believe that I was really going to be in there with them but yes, we showed our tickets to the security man on the steps and he waved us through with the rest of them.
Freaking awesome, I thought as we stepped inside the vast reception hall. There was so much to look at and take in. Flower arrangements as big as a bus. Marble pillars that looked the real thing, not that fake plastic sort you can buy at DIY stores. Glittering chandeliers with a million candle bulbs shimmering light. So many people all dressed in their best outfits, the sound of chattering, laughing, champagne bottles popping, glasses chinking. Georgie and I had a great time watching and gossiping about the ones who had no dress sense and drooling over those who’d got it right. In the main ballroom, disco music was playing and strobe lights flashing and already a few people were up dancing. In another small hall, we could see that there were tables groaning with food and at the back was a small stage where I spotted Mum laying out her cakes.
“Shall we go and get something?” asked Georgie as she peeked in. “I’m starving.”
I quickly steered her away. I didn’t want her to know that Mum was working in there and was not a guest.
“I’ll go and get us a drink and something to nibble on,” I said. “I’ll bring it to you in the dance room. You go and check out if there are any cute boys in there.”
“Good plan,” said Georgie, and disappeared off into the disco.
As I went in to get the drinks, Mum spotted me and I gave her a wave but didn’t go over, she looked busy anyhow. As I got the drinks, I noticed Sonia Marks and Chloe Philips from Year Nine at the other end of the table. Sonia pointed at me then put her hand to her friend’s ear and whispered something. Chloe whipped around and stared at me and then they both started laughing. Whatever they’d said wasn’t nice. I could tell. Maybe they know that my mum is part of the staff and I don’t really belong here, I thought and turned my back on them quickly.
On the way back through to the disco, I noticed everyone turn to look at someone who had just arrived. Thinking that it must be another celebrity, I turned to look as well. For a moment, I was blinded as flash bulb after flash bulb blasted off. When my eyes adjusted, I saw that it was a couple who had arrived. Freaking bejeezjobs, do they look the bis boz, I thought as I stared along with others gaping at them, pure gossip magazine material. The lady looked familiar. As my eyes focused properly, I realized that it was the beautiful lady who had given me the leaflet this morning in Osbury! She was on the arm of a man who looked like he’d just walked off a film set in Hollywood. She looked like a goddess dressed in an off the shoulder, long, Grecian-style, ivory dress, her hair was up and she was wearing silver star earrings. And he looked like a God. Tall, handsome, suntanned with a mane of shoulder length black wavy hair and with the same whiter-than-white teeth that the lady had. They radiated the X factor like they ate charisma flakes for breakfast. Everyone was staring at them, both men and women alike. The lady looked around the room and waved at someone in my direction.
I turned to see who but there was no-one behind me. She waved again. Omigod. Was she waving at me? She couldn’t be. But she was. She was even coming over!
She stopped in front of me and smiled. “Hey Tori,” she said. “It is Tori, innit? I thought I might see you ’ere. I’m Nessa.”
I was so gobsmacked I stood there doing my goldfish impression. Why was she talking to me? Everyone was watching. But Nessa, Nessa? I had heard that name somewhere and I recognized the scent, white roses and rain. Where? Where? I urged my brain to get into gear. Oh yes. Nessa. It was the name of the person that the Captain of the Space Age Nutters’ shop, Uri, had said was to be my guardian. He couldn’t have meant this lady could he? No way. She looked like a famous person. Footballer’s wife famous. And not mad the way Uri looked. And certainly not some sad teenager’s guardian.
When I finally got my bottom lip up off the floor and got my mouth to work, I said, “Hi. Um. Yes. I’m Tori.”
“My Zodiac Girl,” she said with a smile. “Tori Taylor. Taurus. I saw your chart.”
With the excitement of coming to the dance, until now, I’d forgotten about the strange announcement from the computer this afternoon. I certainly didn’t think I’d hear any more about it as I thought it was some computer pop up thing that displayed when anybody went to the astrology site that I’d typed in. No big deal. But hey, if it meant that this amazing woman was going to talk to me, I didn’t mind. People were still watching us. Famous by association. I can do that, I thought as I shifted about on my feet and tried to look cool. People were actually looking at me as if I might be somebody.
“Yes, um, that’s me, Zodiac Girl,” I said and gave her a smile. “Tori is short for Victoria. All my friends call me that. Tori that is, not Victoria.”
“Then I shall,” said Nessa, “because I ’ope that we will be mates.”
Mates with someone like her! That would be awesome, I thought, so I gave her what I hoped was my most winning smile.
Before we could talk any more, an old man with a
white beard appeared, gave me what I can only describe as a “what kind of hole did you crawl out of ?” look and pulled her away so that I didn’t have a chance to ask her anything more about Zodiac Girls or guardians.
The rest of the evening went by in a blur. Cute waiters brought round trays of canapés and drinks, and Georgie and I stuffed our faces on the sweet ones. They were way tasty: mini chocolate cakes with raspberry sauce, teeny-weeny lime cheesecakes and itsy bitsy pancakes with maple syrup. Yumbolicious. After the nibbles, we had such a laugh in the disco. We went through the repertoire of dances that we had practised on various sleepovers with Meg and Hannah. Our range went from Russian Cossack dancing (which I was rubbish at because I kept falling over when we had to do the balance on one leg while kicking out with the other bit) to Spanish to Egyptian to cowboy line dancing to ballet to Riverdancing. I think some people thought that we were totally mad but we didn’t care. We were having such a good time and a cute-looking boy with dark floppy hair even asked me to dance with him and joined in with gusto as we did our “dances from around the globe”. This is the life for me, I thought as we did the Highland Fling around the dance floor. I was born for the high life.
Towards the end of the evening, we drifted out into an adjacent hall where the handsome man who had arrived with Nessa was introduced as Mr Sonny Olympus, otherwise known as Mr O. He got up to start an auction and I could see people nudging each other and whispering as the bidding got underway. I could see immediately that it wasn’t in a nasty way like Chloe and Sonia from our school had been about me. I could see it was in admiration.
Mr O was brilliant and whipped up people’s enthusiasm so that they were really going for it in attempts to outbid each other.
“And what am I bid for this fabulous hamper from Brecknams and Stasons?” he asked in the kind of voice that sounded like one of those men who do the chocolate commercials on telly. Deep and velvety. “Let’s start the bidding at one hundred pounds.”
“Five million squillion,” I said and pretended to put my hand up but Georgie laughed and pushed it down.
“Two hundred,” called a voice from the back.
And up and up it went until it reached two thousand! I did a quick calculation in my head. That much money would feed our whole family for a year I bet. There must be some stonkingly-rich people here, I thought, although looking around, I reckoned that most of them just wanted to impress Mr O and get his attention, especially the women.
The auction continued with people outbidding each other for all sorts of rubbish. A bottle of old wine went for two hundred and fifty pounds. Mad, I thought, especially when you could buy a brand new one for around six pounds.
“Just who is Mr O?” asked Georgie.
“He’s an actor,” I said in a deep actor like voice. “I overheard someone saying that anyway.”
“Thought so,” she replied.
Next up were Mum’s cakes and when she took them up on the stage, I noticed that Mr Olympus made a great fuss of her. She even blushed. I could see her cheeks flush from half way down the hall. I felt pleased to see her looking like she was enjoying herself and she looked pretty tonight in a red dress that Aunt Pat had lent her.
With Mr O’s help, the cakes were a huge hit and raised over a hundred pounds each. I felt so proud of her and nudged Georgie.
“My mum made those,” I said.
“Yeah, my mum does a lot of work for charity too,” she replied.
I didn’t tell her that Mum had been paid to make the cakes. It was Mrs Jackson that actually donated them. Donating to charity was a luxury that our family couldn’t afford at the moment.
“And now for the raffle,” Mr O announced when the last item for auction had gone.
A fat bald man got up to join him on stage and held out a sack.
Mr Olympus put his hand in and pulled out a ticket. “And the winner of the picnic hamper is number one hundred and forty four.”
“That’s me!” cried a lady with frizzy red hair at the front who made her way to the stage where she was presented with her prize.
A few other people had their ticket numbers called and they too went to collect their prizes.
“Let’s go and get a drink,” I said to Georgie and we turned to go out of the auction room.
“And finally,” said Mr Olympus as he put his hand in the sack and pulled out a ticket, “the last prize. And the winner is… number twelve… and the ticket belongs to… Tori Taylor.”
“Omigod,” said Georgie pulling me back. “That’s you! I never saw you buy a ticket.”
“I… I didn’t,” I said as she shoved me forward. I haven’t got one. Maybe Mum had got one for me, I thought as I made my way up to the stage.
Up on the stage, Mr O gave me a parcel. As I took it, he gave me a wink.
“But I don’t have the ticket,” I said.
“No matter,” he said. “The parcel has got your name on it. Tori Taylor?”
I wasn’t going to argue. “Right. Wow, thanks,” I said and raced back to join Georgie and unwrap it.
We ripped off the wrapping paper and inside was the coolest mobile phone I had ever seen. It was so pretty, tiny, in a pale pearly green with a glittering jewel the colour of an emerald set in it. I immediately put it up to my ear and did the Crazy Maisie cat-walk strut out into the corridor and back.
“Wow,” said Georgie. “That is the cutest phone I have ever seen. It’s like it was made for a fairy princess or something. I wonder where it came from, I’ve certainly never seen one like it in any of the shops. Oh and look, there’s something else.”
At the bottom of the parcel was a small box. I opened it to find a silver chain with a charm of some sort on it. When I looked closer, I saw that it was the zodiac sign for Taurus. This night is just getting better and better, I thought as I fastened the chain around my neck.
Just at that moment, Sonia and Chloe passed by and Sonia bumped into me.
“Sorreeee,” she said in a false way. “Wasn’t looking where I was going.”
I was sure that she’d done it on purpose.
Chloe looked me up and down. “Hi Nicky,” she said then sniggered.
I felt a rush of panic. “I… My name is Tori actually,” I said.
“Yeah right,” said Sonia then leant forward and whispered in my ear. “But you’re still a Nickynonames…”
I felt my stomach tighten and my face flush red. Oh God no, I thought. Could she possibly know that I’d got my dress from the second-hand shop?
“What’s your problem?” said Georgie coming to my defence.
“Just ignore them,” I said and began to pull her away. “It’s nothing.”
“Didn’t you tell your friend then?” said Sonia.
“Tell me what?” asked Georgie squaring up to her.
“That your mate here is a Nickynonames,” said Chloe.
“Don’t you call her that,” said Georgie.
“Why not? She is one. Your mate here can’t afford to buy designer gear unless she buys it in charity shops.”
“Er, excuse me. She’s only wearing a Susie Tsang,” said Georgie. “You don’t see too many of those in charity shops now do you?”
Inwardly I felt as if I was dying. This couldn’t be happening.
Chloe burst out laughing. “No. You don’t unless you go to Osbury. See, that dress used to belong to Sonia. She gave it to a charity shop earlier today, didn’t you Sonia?”
Sonia nodded.
“There are more places than charity shops to buy dresses you know,” said Georgie. “Tell her Tori. Tell her that your mum got it for you in London.”
“I… I…” I had no excuse and felt exposed and near to tears. “I…”
“You said it’s a Susie Tsang dress right?” said Sonia.
I didn’t say anything.
“Yeah,” said Georgie. “So, what are you trying to say, Sonia?”
“So, Susie Tsang is my aunt and she made it for me specially for my fifteenth birthday a
nd your friend couldn’t have bought it in London because she only made one and that was for me. So there.”
“Well maybe she liked it so much, she made two or even three,” said Georgie. “Go on tell her Tori.”
But I still couldn’t speak. I felt frozen from my toes to my tongue. Like someone had sprayed me with instant ice.
Sonia leant over and pulled the back of the neck of my dress up. “Here,” she said. “Look at the label. The handstitched label. It says, ‘For Sonia’.”
“So why did you give it away?” asked Georgie who looked like she’d like to hit Sonia.
Sonia feigned a yawn. “Oh you know. I’ve worn it a few times now so I’m bored with it. I don’t really like wearing things that people have seen me in before. So passé, don’t you think, to wear the same things over and over? And Aunt Susie’s made me so many things over the years. I gave it to my mum to give to charity.”
“So that some poor unfortunate could wear it but I bet you never expected to see it turn up here, hey Sonia?” added Chloe.
By now I felt my face was crimson. I felt that everyone in close proximity had heard what the girls were saying and was staring at me. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me.
Sonia started singing in a slow mocking voice, “Nickynonames, nickynoooonames, nickynonaaaaaames …”
Chloe joined in with her. “Nickynonames, nickynoooonames, nickynonaaaaaames…”
I felt so ashamed. Everyone was looking. Suddenly my great night, my dream-come-true, had turned into my worst nightmare. I felt like I was on stage with nothing on and everyone watching, waiting to see what I was going to do. I didn’t dare look Georgie in the face. I’d lied to her so I knew she’d be looking at me and hating me.
I turned on my heel and fled.
Chapter Five
Old mate, new mate
I ran straight into the nearest Ladies, found a cubicle and locked the door. I felt so humiliated. I was sure all the people around had heard. Nickynonames. That was me. The discount diva. Silly little poor girl trying to act like she belonged when everyone could see that she was wearing someone’s throw-outs. Stupid, sad, pathetic me. I felt so numb with shock that I couldn’t even cry. I could hardly breathe either. It felt like someone had put a rope around my chest and pulled it tight. And then I felt a wave of anger. Zodiac Girl. Freaking Zodiac Girl. It was that stupid nutter at the cyber café who had caused this mess – with his “go back and you will find what you seek” rubbish. If it wasn’t for that leaflet and that astrology site and that message and that dress, I wouldn’t be the biggest loser in history hiding in a loo while everyone outside gossips about what a pathetic sad reject I am.
Discount Diva (Zodiac Girls) Page 4