The Girl from Lace Island

by Joanna Rees

  She stepped out of the way as a couple walked past her.

  ‘The bus to get to the lift for the beginners’ slopes leaves at nine,’ the man was saying. ‘The hotel said they’ll lend us boots and jackets and skis, and organize a day pass.’

  Jess considered what she’d overheard as she continued through the bar. This was probably her one and only chance ever to make it to the ski slopes, but it was already too late. She’d blown it. Tomorrow, she’d been told, she’d most likely be out of a job.

  Gina was sitting over by the fireplace on the sofa, flicking her long blonde hair over her slight shoulders. She was with people Jess had never seen before, but even out of uniform, it was obvious that they were cabin crew and, from some of their faces as Jess approached, that she had been the subject of their discussions.

  ‘Over here,’ Gina called, and Jess waved.

  One of the guys stared at her and budged up on the sofa to make room for her, but Jess deliberately ignored his advance. There was no way she’d even consider getting together with someone she worked with. Instead, she perched on the arm of Gina’s leather armchair.

  ‘Here’s your drink,’ Gina added, pressing a sweating glass of clear liquid into Jess’s hand. ‘I bet you need it after that.’

  ‘Cheers,’ Jess said gratefully, raising her glass to the assembled group.

  ‘I was just saying how brave you were,’ Gina gushed. ‘You don’t mind us talking. We are like family after all,’ Gina said, justifying her gossiping.

  Jess tried to smile, wanting to believe that the group of strangers were ‘like family’, but they weren’t. And certainly not the kind of family she needed right now. She missed Angel. If only they were speaking, then Jess would have rung her up and told her everything. Angel would have been on her side. But Angel didn’t care less, she remembered. She’d probably be thrilled that Jess had been brought back down to earth with a bump.

  She looked around the group now settled on sofas and chairs round the cluster of low tables that were crammed with empty glasses. She recognized the looks on the faces of the heavily made-up girls and the perfectly preened boys. Girls who were up for fun and easy sex. Girls who had one eye out in the busy hotel bar for someone to pique their interest. But still, they were a tribe, and Jess so desperately wanted to be one of them.

  ‘You should have seen her, though,’ Gina said, leaning towards the girls across the table. ‘She was amazing. Totally kicked his ass.’

  ‘So . . . what happened?’ one of the girls asked.

  Jess glanced between her and Gina, who was several gin and tonics down by the looks of things and locked in with the crew for the evening. It was nice that she’d earned Gina’s respect and the other girls were impressed, but it didn’t matter now. Not after what the captain had said: about her being inexperienced and dangerous. About how some people – i.e. her – just weren’t cut out for the job. That her training record showed that she had problems with the truth. That was the part that had outraged Jess the most.

  Jess thought back to Captain McVeigh’s red face and his thinning auburn hair. He was clearly a man who was used to being in charge, and it had taken all of Jess’s self-control not to answer back. She wasn’t going to start bitching about him now. She wouldn’t give him that power.

  ‘It was nothing. Just had to fill in some forms so they cover themselves if they get sued,’ Jess lied, flapping her hand and taking a slurp of her drink through the straw. Vodka. A strong one. She didn’t usually drink, but the burn of the liquid felt welcome now. ‘It’ll all blow over.’

  ‘Thank God for that. I thought Captain McVeigh was on the warpath,’ Gina said.

  ‘I’ve flown with him before,’ one of the girls said, leaning forward conspiratorially. ‘He’s a right one for inappropriate hands, if you know what I mean. And a drinker, they say.’

  Jess tuned out as they continued gossiping, draining her drink. She offered to buy another round, walking numbly over to the bar to order.

  She stared over at a family who had clearly just come in from the slopes. A man with blond hair was in a light blue ski suit, which complemented his tanned face. A blond boy of about eight was next to him, and the man bent down and spoke quietly to him, before nodding over in Jess’s direction.

  ‘Just give Daddy one moment. I’ll be there in a sec,’ Jess heard him say. Then he moved round the bar towards her. ‘I was on the flight this afternoon,’ the man explained.

  ‘Oh,’ Jess said, embarrassed. He was the guy in the loo. She recognized him now.

  ‘I saw what he did. That man, I mean. I was impressed by how you dealt with it. If it had been me, I’d have flattened him too.’

  ‘That’s nice of you to say, but try telling my boss that,’ Jess said, with a self-deprecating smile.

  The man narrowed his eyes. ‘Yes, I couldn’t help noticing as we left the plane that there was some . . . form-filling?’ he guessed. ‘I could tell them I saw what happened, if that would help?’

  ‘You’re very kind,’ Jess said, ‘but I doubt it would make any difference. There were protocols I broke, apparently.’ She felt unexpected tears welling up. Caught up in the man’s kind stare, she felt the anguish that she might lose her job and everything she’d worked so hard for doubling.

  ‘Well, listen, I run a recruitment business in London. Here,’ the man said, as he dug a wallet out of the pocket of his ski jacket and fumbled inside for a card. He handed it over. Jess took the card and read the embossed gold words on it. Andrew Browning, CEO.

  ‘I do a fair bit of work with some of the bigger airlines, and I should imagine that if I put a word in, I could certainly help you out if you felt you wanted a different position?’

  Jess stared at him, hardly daring to take in what he was saying.

  ‘I’m not promising anything, of course,’ he added.

  ‘No, of course. I’m very grateful,’ Jess said.

  ‘I think common sense should prevail, don’t you?’ Andrew Browning asked. ‘Give me a call . . . ?’

  ‘Oh, Jess. I’m Jess.’

  ‘Jess,’ he said, with a smile.

  ‘Thank you. And thank you for this,’ she said, holding up the card.

  ‘I’ll be back in London next week. Let’s talk then.’

  After the encounter with Andrew Browning, Jess’s mood lightened and she joined in with the others, enjoying their anecdotes and the sense of camaraderie, as they bitched about passengers. Soon, the others had decided to go into town to a nightclub, but having spent all of her money on drinks, Jess said she was going to bed.

  As she was making her way to the lift, however, she saw the captain from the flight earlier across the bar. Captain McVeigh. And he’d clearly been drinking. She sped up when she made eye contact, her pulse quickening when she saw that he’d got up and was following her to the lift. Jess jumped into the open lift ahead of him, but just when the lift was closing, the captain’s hand stopped the door at the last moment. He grinned at her, his eyes cold, as they were suddenly alone in the lift together. In a moment, they were travelling up.

  Jess squeezed her hands together, feeling embarrassed.

  ‘You know, it was a shame about today. You’re a very pretty girl,’ the captain said.

  Jess’s eyes widened, amazed that he’d said something so forward.

  ‘You know, I could make all this nasty business go away,’ he whispered, moving in closer towards her and rubbing his finger up her arm. ‘Why don’t we go to my room to discuss it?’

  Jess stared at him, astonished at his proposition. She flicked his arm away. ‘Did you not listen earlier? I do kickboxing.’

  The captain laughed. ‘Yes, but you can’t assault me. I’m your captain.’

  ‘You think I’m going to have sex with you?’

  ‘Why not? That’s what the others do to get ahead. You’ve got to learn to . . . let’s say . . . practise diplomacy . . . if you want to get anywhere. Come on,’ he said, in a cajoling tone. ‘You’re hot. An
d I like a bit of mixed-race pussy occasionally.’

  ‘Oh, man,’ Jess said, looking up at the ceiling, knowing the shitstorm she was in had just got a whole lot worse. ‘You just messed with the wrong girl.’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Surrey, 1990

  ‘Flush it again,’ Leila heard before Edwina pushed her head roughly into the toilet bowl.

  ‘Stop,’ she choked, as the water gurgled all around her, filling her ears and nose. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to think about the disgusting skid marks on the bowl, only concentrating on not breathing. She flailed, trying to hit Edwina behind her as the water flooded around her. Instead, she hit Georgina, who, as ever, was Edwina’s accomplice.

  Finally, when she could bear it no longer, her head was suddenly jerked back, clear of the bowl.

  ‘What’s going on in here?’

  Leila gulped, water streaming down her face, her knees burning from being on the cold vinyl floor, her chest hurting from where she’d been pressed against the porcelain toilet bowl.

  Edwina froze, Leila’s ponytail gripped firmly in her hand, her eyes blazing, as they both listened to Mrs Gorrall, the housemistress. Her eyes flicked down at Leila’s, daring her to make a sound, then up to Georgina’s, who now looked terrified.

  ‘Nothing, miss,’ Edwina said, her voice sweet.

  ‘Who’s in there with you?’

  ‘Just Leila, miss. She’s got a few tummy problems again. Can’t get used to the food. I’m looking after her.’

  Leila sneered at Edwina, hating her with every fibre of her body.

  ‘Well, hurry it up, you two. It’s lights-out in two minutes.’

  They waited, hearing the door close; then Edwina let go of Leila’s hair, before shoving her head roughly towards the bowl.

  ‘Don’t you ever touch my things again,’ Edwina snarled, her beauty-queen good looks bent into an ugly scowl.

  ‘I didn’t. I told you,’ Leila lied.

  Edwina ignored her, turning on her heel and marching out of the cubicle, followed by Georgina, who did a copycat sneer down at Leila.

  ‘Clear up the mess you’ve made,’ Georgina said. ‘Before Gorrall sees. There’s water everywhere.’

  Then she was gone, the cubicle door banging. Leila slumped back under the toilet-roll holder, pulling down some tissue to wipe her face. Her pyjamas and dressing gown were soaked through. She ineffectually balled up the loo roll and mopped up the puddles of water on the floor, trying to ignore the stench. She felt herself wretch, toilet water still caught in her throat. She leant forward and heaved over the bowl, but nothing came out, just a choked sob.

  It had been another bog flush, but it was worth it to have annoyed Edwina so much. And she’d done it. She’d successfully rummaged beneath the colour-coordinated stack of Benetton jumpers in Edwina’s cubicle and stolen the cigarettes. And, as everyone knew in this place, cigarettes were the only currency worth anything.

  She got up and made it out of the toilet and tipped the tissues angrily in the bin. Then she washed her face, dunking her head under the tap, feeling the tepid water on her neck.

  ‘Are you OK?’ Judith whispered, sticking her head round the door. She handed her a clean towel. Leila took it, then piled her head up in a towel turban and took a breath, looking at Judith in the mirror. She nodded and pulled a triumphant grimace.

  ‘Well done,’ Judith said with a grin, and Leila knew it had all been worth it.

  Twenty minutes later, after lights-out, Leila crept along the dorm to Judith’s cubicle. She glanced behind her, but Edwina’s end of the dorm was quiet. Further along the corridor the other way, the TV in Gorrall’s room threw blue shadows up the wall.

  Judith was waiting for her.

  ‘Here,’ she said, ‘help me move this.’

  Together, they shifted Judith’s bed as silently as they could. On the wall behind it, Judith picked at one of the corners of the tongue and groove, the section came away, and there was a grille on the other side. Carefully, Judith unwound the screws holding the grille and pushed it away from her. Kneeling on all fours, she stuck her head through the hole, then came back in.

  ‘All clear,’ she said.

  Nervously, Leila shuffled into the small space behind the bed and through the hole into the school corridor. How often had Judith used this route to leave the dorm? she wondered. And what about the others? Did they all escape while Leila was in bed? She was starting to get a sense of a whole other tier of school life she’d never imagined.

  ‘Hang on, I’ve got to put the grille back,’ Judith hissed, as she followed Leila onto the scuffed carpet of the corridor.

  She put the grille back, and Leila stood up, getting her bearings. The weak security lights at the end of the corridor flickered. Leila pressed herself against the wall, her heart pounding. She’d never done anything this naughty in her life.

  ‘Come on. The fire escape is this way,’ Judith said, setting off at a tiptoe run along the brown vinyl floor. Leila followed, watching as she pressed down on the heavy fire-exit bar, which gave way. Then they hurried out onto the top of the metal fire escape.

  Leila felt the cool night air snake beneath her nightdress, but she was warm with exhilaration. She looked out at the playing fields, which were shimmering with a light dew in the moonlight, and her breath caught in a cloud.

  Leila grabbed Judith’s arm and nodded to where the gym door opened.

  ‘Sussman,’ Judith whispered. ‘She’s on patrol. Don’t let her see you.’

  They waited, seeing the games teacher walking along the path towards them, and slunk back into the shadows. When she passed beneath them, Judith nodded at Leila.

  ‘Come on. Up here,’ Judith said, and they climbed up towards the roof.

  Leila checked the pocket of her fleece dressing gown to make sure the cigarettes were still there.

  Safely up on the roof, they sat down, looking out onto the whole school, bathed in silvery moonlight.

  ‘We did it,’ Leila said, taking the packet of Marlboro cigarettes and offering them to Judith. ‘That was close with Sussman.’

  ‘You don’t want to get caught by her,’ Judith agreed.

  ‘She gives me the creeps.’

  ‘So she should,’ Judith shrugged. ‘Every school has a perv, and she’s ours. She touches up all the pretty girls.’

  Leila was shocked. ‘Why doesn’t anyone say anything?’

  ‘You can’t. Grayson-Smith is in cahoots. Last girl who complained was gone. Poof. Just like that. Out of the building in less than ten minutes.’

  Leila shook her head, reeling from this latest titbit of school injustice.

  Her hands trembled as she flicked the red plastic lighter. She’d seen Chan smoke all her life, but before now, it had never occurred to her to do it herself. But this was the only way to secure Judith’s friendship, and seeing her inhale, Leila knew that all the danger, the bog flush, everything had been worth it to finally have a friend.

  She inhaled, the smoke making her choke.

  ‘Take it in your mouth like this,’ Judith said, instructing, and Leila followed as best she could. Judith smiled. ‘You’ll get the hang of it.’

  Leila concentrated hard, determined to get the smoking thing right. She couldn’t imagine what Bibi would say if she could see her now. Or Rasa, for that matter. They’d both be horrified that she was smoking up on the roof and breaking all the rules, but they didn’t know what it was like in this hellhole. If taking up smoking was what it took to survive, then that’s what she’d have to do.

  ‘So come on, then,’ Judith said. ‘Tell me about this private island of yours.’

  Leila coughed, then muffled another cough, as Judith blew a perfect smoke ring into the night sky. Grateful for an excuse to talk and not have to smoke, she began. She told Judith all about Bibi and her father dying and how Bibi had married Chan. She told her about her friends and playing cricket in the coconut grove and about the guests too.

  ‘Do you
get anyone famous?’

  ‘I guess so. They don’t act like they’re famous when they’re with us.’

  ‘It sounds very glamorous.’

  ‘It’s glorious,’ Leila said, with a sigh. She didn’t know whether Judith believed her or not, so she added, ‘Maybe you’ll get to go there with me one day.’

  Judith gave her a strange look and Leila realized she’d overstepped the boundary of their friendship. They were silent for a while; then they fell into talking about Edwina and Judith suddenly became animated. Edwina was, after all, her favourite subject. But Leila felt sad that she didn’t want to hear more about Lace Island, and talking about it had just made her more homesick than ever.

  ‘You know that Georgina lost her cherry to her brother’s best friend at a party at the Hurlingham Club.’

  ‘Her cherry?’

  ‘Her virginity. You know, sex.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘She said it was amazing. That’s why Edwina likes her so much. Because Georgina tells her what she gets up to and takes her to all the best parties. They’ve got tickets to the Gatecrasher Ball in London, and Georgina has already been fixed up with an earl’s son. She’s definitely going to do it with him, she says,’ Judith said.

  ‘But she’s only fourteen. Isn’t it illegal?’

  Judith laughed at her. ‘Don’t be silly. Everyone has sex. That’s the only way to be popular.’

  ‘Have you had sex?’ Leila asked incredulously.

  ‘No. But I probably will in the Easter holidays,’ she said matter-of-factly.

  Leila inhaled on her cigarette, digesting this information. Since she’d been at Hillmain, she’d learnt all sorts of facts about sex that had shocked her. She only had the most basic knowledge from Bibi about the birds and the bees, but now she was starting to see that sex was an elaborate game that adults played. And she had a lot to learn.

  ‘Who with?’

  ‘My brother’s friend Harry.’

  ‘Does he know?’ Leila asked.

  ‘Of course. Anyway, he’s a boy. Boys think about sex all the time.’