Sugar Secrets…& Scandal

by Mel Sparke

  “No, I don’t want to go all dressed up; I’m just going to wear my black cropped trousers and that long-sleeved striped top I bought last week. It’s not like it’s any big deal-just a flat-warming.”

  “No big deal! Who’s to say what could happen or who you might meet… if you haven’t met him already, that is!” said Cat provocatively.

  “Look, Cat,” Maya warned her, “stop going on about Alex that way. It’s really annoying. And it’s not going to happen-all right?”

  “Why not? He seemed really nice when we met him last night-a bit old, of course, and a bit too lanky for my liking. But if destiny is calling…”

  “Cat-you’re more obsessed with this stupid tarot thing than I am!” snapped Maya. “But while we’re on the subject-did you say something to Billy about it?”

  “No!” Cat shook her head indignantly. “I told you last night that I didn’t.”

  “Well, I don’t know if I believe you, since he seems to have gone all mushy on me in the last few days. Are you sure you haven’t been playing your stupid little matchmaking games again?”

  Sonja bit her lip. It had crossed her mind when she and Kerry had been gabbing on about the Psychic Fair in the End on Tuesday that Billy seemed a little too interested in Maya’s reading. Obviously, he thought it might be the right time to make another play for Maya…

  “Cat hasn’t said anything, honestly,” said Sonja, coming to her cousin’s rescue even though she was feeling cross with her. Cat was in one of her typically insensitive moods, where she was bound to open her mouth and fall out with someone before the night was over.

  Maya didn’t look convinced, but took Sonja’s word for it.

  “OK, so I got it wrong. Sorry, Cat,” Maya apologised. “Maybe I got it wrong about Billy too. It’s probably just my imagination.”

  “Or maybe it’s just fate making you notice him…” said Cat, unaware that she was pushing it.

  “Cat!”

  Maya’s irritated tone finally hit home.

  “OK! OK!” said Cat, holding her hands up in an attempt to pacify. “So you’re not going to find true love with Billy!”

  Maya nodded, then turned to unzip Kerry.

  “Or Alex,” Cat couldn’t resist adding.

  Biting her lip, Maya decided to ignore her irritating friend.

  “But maybe,” Cat grinned wickedly, “you’ll find Mr Right at this party tomorrow anyway!”

  Sighing a long, deep sigh, Maya rolled her eyes at the very suggestion. But deep inside, she had to admit, she’d been thinking the very same thing.

  CHAPTER 7

  HEARTS AND FLOWERS

  Cat sounded hoarse when she came back over to join the other girls. But it wasn’t a great surprise, considering they’d just seen her howling her head off to The Loud’s version of Robbie’s Angels, along with about six other girls from her beauty course.

  “Sorry to leave you for so long, but I had to mingle,” Cat apologised croakily, above the sound of the boys picking up the pace and launching into the Cardigans’ Lovefool. “But are you having a good time?”

  “Course we are!” said Sonja, dancing to the music. “This hall makes a brilliant venue. They should put more gigs and stuff on in here.”

  “I know, that’s what my friend Vikki says,” Cat nodded, gazing around Winstead College of Further Education’s roomy auditorium. “She’s on the student committee and she’s really pushing for more to happen.”

  “Were the committee in charge of doing this place up?” asked Kerry, gawping at the huge cloth banners, decorated with hearts, that covered acres of the white-painted breeze-block walls. “Apart from the stage, I wouldn’t recognise it as the same place you lot put on the pantomime at Christmas!”

  “I know-it’s great, isn’t it?” Cat nodded with pride. She was really enjoying showing off the college to her mates. Even though they said they were behind her, she sometimes felt she had to justify why she hadn’t stayed on at St Marks to do her A levels and prove to them that she hadn’t just chosen her course on a whim.

  Which, of course-being Cat-she more or less had.

  “Isn’t that Vikki coming over now?” Anna motioned to the smiling girl making her way over towards them.

  The only other time Cat’s friends had seen Vikki was when she was swathed in pink netting, playing Fairy Godmother to Cat’s Cinderella in the college charity panto they’d both starred in. But even out of costume, there was no mistaking Vikki; she was a big girl, in both size and personality, and radiated charisma.

  “Hi!” she boomed, jangling rows of multicoloured metal bracelets against her brown skin as she waved. “Hey, Cat-these boys of yours are great. I’m glad you told me I should book them!”

  Vikki nodded her head in the direction of the stage, where-for the last hour and a half-The Loud had been belting out a range of love-related covers for the night’s Valentine theme.

  “Told you! And wait till Matt starts DJing-if anyone’s still not dancing by then, Matt’ll get them going!” Cat grinned.

  “Sounds good to me!” said Vikki, slapping her hands together.

  “Hey, and Vik,” added Cat, “my friends here were just saying how amazing the hall looks with all the banners and everything.”

  “Definitely!” Sonja agreed, while Anna nodded positively at her side.

  “And I like the little touches too,” Kerry chipped in enthusiastically. “Like the bunch of pink roses tied around Ollie’s mike.”

  Kerry had loved that; seeing her boyfriend crooning with those flowers tangled all around the metal stand, tied with a big satin ribbon. She wished Maya was here with her camera instead of at her tutor’s party-it would have been the perfect photo opportunity.

  “Oh, I’ll happily take credit for everything else tonight, but I didn’t do that,” laughed Vikki. “The guys in the band must have come up with that gimmick themselves.”

  Kerry frowned. Ollie would have mentioned it if they’d planned something, wouldn’t he?

  Unless Nick came up with the flowers as a last minute thing…? she wondered, then instantly dismissed the idea.

  As their manager, he’d do anything to push the lads’ career on, but there was as much chance of Nick the old rocker dreaming up the notion of roses and ribbons as there was of him announcing that B*witched were his favourite band.

  Ollie stepped away from the mike for a second as the band broke into an instrumental section.

  “Check out Nick, stage left,” said Billy, leaning over to whisper the information fleetingly in Ollie’s ear.

  Trying to be subtle, Ollie moved his head from side to side in time to the music and managed to catch a glimpse of his uncle standing in the wings-with a woman snuggled up very close to him.

  Is she from that escort agency? Ollie’s mind whirred, wondering why his uncle would phone up a dodgy agency and bring whoever they’d sent him along as a date to their gig, for God’s sake…

  Although he hadn’t said so to the others yet, Ollie had already made up his mind to avoid bringing up the whole subject with Nick. His uncle’s private life was his own business, he’d decided, and as long as Nick didn’t try and drag out that stupid ad for Ollie to look at again, the matter was dropped. But now tonight, this made a difference-it was embarrassing.

  Ollie glanced around again and found his worst fears were confirmed: the woman certainly seemed tarty enough to come from some seedy agency, with her tight leopard-skin jacket, layers of gold chains and a ton of heavy make-up.

  What the hell’s Nick playing at? Ollie fretted as he grabbed hold of the microphone stand-aware for a second of a sharp pain in the palm of his hand - and launched back into the song.

  It was only as the track - and the whole set-ended, that he was able to glance down and see what was wrong. Holding his hand up, while the roars of the crowd erupted in front of him, Ollie instantly spotted the rose thorn embedded in his skin.

  “You all right?” Billy shouted above the clamouring, from a few feet aw
ay.

  “Yeah, no problem,” Ollie grinned back, while making a mental note to advise the organisers to try carnations, or lilies, or even dandelions next time they wanted to dress up the stage for gigs. Anything but roses with their surprise spikes.

  Saying a heartfelt “thanks!” again into the microphone before the band left the stage, Ollie was hit by a sudden wave of inspiration. Tugging at the satin ribbon, he freed the flowers, and with a dramatic sweep of his arm, threw the bundle of pink roses out into the audience.

  His triumphant smile wavered, however, as he saw one girl near the front of the stage leap into the air and grab the floral missile.

  Her diamante nose stud twinkling in the light, Stalker Girl held the roses in her hands and inhaled the scented petals of her prize.

  “Nice these, aren’t they?”

  Maya turned away from the amazing black and white images on the walls of the flat and smiled at the stranger.

  “Yes. Alex told me about these photos of his, but it’s great to actually see them.”

  “So,” smiled the stranger, handing her one of two glasses of red wine he held. “How do you know Alex then?”

  Maya was momentarily confused; why had he given her this drink? She hadn’t asked for one-only recognised his face vaguely from some conversation she’d passed earlier in the hall - and she never touched alcohol.

  Just as she was about to refuse the wine, it dawned on Maya that she was being chatted up. In the circumstances - and this being one of Alex’s friendsit seemed churlish to refuse; she’d just hold on to the glass till she got an opportunity to put it down somewhere.

  “Well, I know Alex through the photography club he runs,” she explained.

  “Oh, do you teach at Downfield too?”

  Maya felt a ripple of pleasure at the compliment.

  “No, no-I’m at college. I go to St Mark’s sixth form. Do you know it?” she grinned.

  “Er, no, no I don’t!”

  Maya liked the way he laughed at his mistake. His eyes crinkled and a dimple dented either cheek.

  Two twinkling brown eyes stared intently into hers. For a split second, Maya thought of Cat and of her suggestion that Maya might meet someone special at this party…

  Don’t be stupid! she scolded herself. One nice-looking guy talks to you for all of five seconds and you start believing all that rubbish about destiny…

  “I’m Maya, by the way,” she continued, feeling slightly shy all of a sudden.

  “I’m Sam.”

  He smiled and gave her another glimpse of those dimples.

  “And how do you know Alex?” Maya asked, smiling encouragingly.

  “I used to share a flat with him, along with another couple of mates,” Sam replied. “Before he turned all yuppie and got himself a mortgage and a place of his own.”

  Maya took another glance around the living room: with its cool blue walls-hung with Alex’s own dramatic photographs - and two long, low, denim-coloured sofas, it seemed perfect.

  “You’re not jealous, are you?” she joked.

  “Jealous?” said Sam, looking her up and down slowly. “A great flat, a beautiful ‘pupil’ hanging round that flat-of course I’m jealous!”

  Another ripple shot down Maya’s spine, but not of pleasure, this time. With a fixed smile on her face, she shook her head a little in confusion. Surely she couldn’t have got him that wrong. Surely he couldn’t be that much of a creep…

  “Well, I’m not exactly ‘hanging around’-I’ve only come to the party because I was asked,” she replied, with a touch of iciness to her voice.

  “I bet you were,” Sam smirked suggestively. “So, hasn’t Alex asked you to pose for him yet? I know I would if I was any good with a camera…”

  “You-you’re interested in photography?” Maya found herself asking, though she knew perfectly well that he wasn’t. She just wasn’t sure how do deal with this-up until now, everyone Alex had introduced her to had seemed really nice. Now here was a friend, an ex-flatmate of Alex’s, coming on to her like a total lech, and she didn’t know what to do.

  “Maya!”

  It had been a long time since she’d been so relieved to hear her name called.

  Ashleigh and Jane-the only two others from photography club who’d bothered to come-were waving her over to join them.

  “Sorry,” she said to Sam, although she wasn’t.

  “Didn’t mean to drag you away,” Ashleigh shrugged when Maya joined them by the fireplace.

  “Don’t worry-honestly,” said Maya, sticking the full glass of wine up on the marble-topped mantelpiece. “What’s up?”

  “Me and Jane are thinking of heading off,” Ashleigh whispered, pulling an apologetic face. “We just wondered if you wanted to come.”

  “But we haven’t been here long!” Maya replied. Despite her most recent encounter, she was still buzzing from being at this party, in this great flat, with all these new, older people to get to know. It certainly wasn’t like one of Matt’s lairy, free-for-all house parties.

  “Yeah, I know, but it’s not really…” Ashleigh pulled another face and glanced at Jane as she tried to find the right word, “…our scene, is it?”

  Maya felt slightly irritated for Alex’s sake. He didn’t have to invite his students to his party, and yet when he did, only three of them turned up. And two of those were about to leave after one sip of cider and a handful of peanuts.

  “Well, whatever…” shrugged Maya. She knew she didn’t have a right to be annoyed with Ashleigh and Jane if they didn’t feel comfortable. “But I’m going to hang around for a while.”

  “Tell Alex bye from us,” said Jane, pulling her bag up on to her shoulder.

  Maya looked over towards the crowd of people in the kitchen-she could hear their tutor’s gravelly Glaswegian voice from where she stood and see his lanky frame towering over the huddle of friends he was talking to.

  “Why don’t you tell him yourself? He’s only through there,” she motioned to the girls.

  Ashleigh and Jane both shuffled awkwardly; it was obvious that they felt out of place and would be relieved to go.

  “OK, OK,” said Maya, sensing their discomfort. “I’ll tell him for you.”

  “Thanks, Maya!” they both grinned at her.

  “See you on Wednesday then…”

  “Yeah, bye!”

  Maya watched as they made their getaway. If she hadn’t been so disappointed in them it would have been funny. Both Jane and Ashleigh had turned from sensible sixteen-year-olds into shy little schoolgirls as soon as they stepped through the front door, viewing Alex’s other guests-who were all in their twenties-as if they were aliens.

  They’d felt out of place from the word go, but Maya had found it exciting to be introduced to Alex’s friends and had loved nosying around the flat, and seeing the work that Alex had done. Even here on the mantelpiece, there was a beautiful framed photograph of pretty girl on a hill with a dark, thunder-filled sky behind her.

  Maya was just studying it, wondering who the girl was, when a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts.

  “All alone again?”

  Sam’s eyes were roaming all over her once more as his elbow struggled to find the mantelpiece.

  “Mmmm,” murmured Maya non-committally, suddenly wishing she had scuttled off with the girls.

  “Well, it just gives me a chance to get to know you better, doesn’t it?” he grinned at her. “Here’s to us getting more friendly-cheers!”

  With that, Sam clattered, rather than clinked, his glass on Maya’s untouched one, still resting on the mantelpiece. The force of his toast sent the drink, and the framed photo of the girl, flying… landing with a conversation-stopping smash of glass on the polished wooden floor.

  “Sam-leave it!”

  Alex pulled his friend away from the splinters as Sam uselessly and drunkenly swayed forward to pick them up.

  “Sorry… sorry…” muttered Sam, moving away slowly towards the kitchen. Another guy
appeared at his side and steered him away from the mess he’d made.

  “Are you all right? You didn’t get cut by flying glass or anything, did you?” asked Alex with concern, crouching down to join Maya on the floor.

  “No, I’m fine,” she reassured him, gathering up shards of glass. Her gaze landed on a decorative ceramic bowl in the fireplace. “Should we just put the glass in this for the moment?”

  “Good idea,” said Alex, gingerly dropping chunks of broken wine glass into it. “I’m sorry about Sam-he’s such an idiot. He always says he won’t get drunk and then he does.”

  “I didn’t even realise he was drunk when I was first talking to him,” Maya admitted, holding the silver-framed photo over the bowl and delicately brushing off the splinters so they didn’t scratch the picture any more than it already was.

  “Yeah, he hides it well, but you always know he’s had too much when he starts making a fool of himself, like now,” shrugged Alex sadly. “He’s a nice bloke when he’s just sticking to coffee. Which reminds me…” Alex raised his head and looked over towards the kitchen.

  “…Simon, Melanie, could one of you stick the kettle on and try and get some coffee down Sam’s neck? Or make him eat something-that should sober him up a bit.”

  Up this close, it looked to Maya like Alex could do with eating something. She’d never noticed before how prominent his high cheekbones were: his grey-blue eyes, fringed with long, fair eyelashes, seemed more deep-set than she remembered.

  “Oh, the picture got it too, did it?” Alex said sadly, turning his attention back to tidying.

  He stretched his arm across the bowl and reached out for the shattered frame that Maya was still holding.

  For a second, his long, slender fingers overlapped her own.

  For a second his eyes flickered up to meet hers.

  For a second, she felt as if a bright, clear bolt of lightning had hit her.

  Hard.

  CHAPTER 8

  SOMEONE’S WATCHING YOU…

  “Roll on closing time, eh, Ollie?” grinned Anna as she swooped past him from the kitchen and zigzagged her way between the heaving tables with a loaded tray.