Dad laughed. ‘I think maybe it’s a good job that you don’t want to go into the art world, Jess.’
‘I might change my mind now that I’ve seen Monsieur Gerard’s pad. I like his style – and those old paintings.’
I sang a song from Mamma Mia, as Dad opened the door, and danced my way along the corridor. Charlie soon joined in, ‘Money, money, money, must be funny . . . in the rich man’s world . . .’
I could see that our messing about made Dad uncomfortable and I knew that there were tiny cameras discreetly placed here and there, so we didn’t keep it up for long.
*
Apartment number four on the second floor had stayed with the modern look, but added a ton of marble: sand-coloured marble tiles gleamed on the walls, cream marble tiles on the floor, grey and black marble in the bathroom.
‘I suppose they’re going for the temple look,’ I said, when I saw they had added a couple of marble pillars in the hallway too. I didn’t like this one. It was posh-looking but felt cold – and not just because the heating wasn’t on yet. I couldn’t imagine kicking off my shoes and chilling out here. It would be like living in a hotel lobby.
To the left of the main living area was a cinema room with tiger-skin rugs, tan leather chairs, a TV screen almost as big as the wall and two life-size tiger statues on either side.
‘Tack city,’ I said.
Dad raised an eyebrow. ‘Don’t hold back on telling us what you think, Jess,’ he said. As the hall opened out, there was one lovely feature and that was the circular floor, which had an enormous gold spiral pattern on it, in shades of gold. Dad told us that it had been done with real gold leaf.
‘They must be bonkers,’ I said. ‘People are going to walk on that!’ On the walls were six-foot-high paintings showing the silhouettes of sky scrapers, again done in shades of gold. It looked OK, but not to my taste.
*
I liked the third apartment best. It was a penthouse suite, up on the top floor. They had kept the minimal modern base but repainted in a soft off-white colour that added a touch of warmth, and they’d replaced the marble floors with some kind of light wood. In the living area, they had an arrangement of huge cream sofas that I could just see myself lounging about on, whilst looking out through the wall-to-wall glass windows onto the park beyond. Around the rooms were beautiful life-size wooden carvings. Dad said that they were Balinese. Bali-whatever, they were impressive. On a coffee table in front of the fireplace were some big art books, glossy magazines and, leaning against it, some large paintings bound up in bubble wrap, waiting to be hung. I could see through the wrap that they were abstract paintings and would bring a touch of colour to the apartment. Here and there were scented candles in glass jars and, though they hadn’t been lit, their scent permeated the air, maybe jasmine, maybe sandalwood.
‘I like this one best,’ I said. ‘It looks elegant but feels comfortable. Who’s going to live here?’
‘The Lewis family,’ said Dad.
‘Excellent,’ I said. I was glad that I liked their apartment the best because I had every intention of becoming friends with them, which meant that hopefully I would be spending a lot of time up here!
I thought of our boring staff house and sighed. I’d been excited about making it nice, but having seen these amazing apartments, I felt deflated. There was no way that our house would ever look as good as these – and though I had Pia’s lovely scented candle, there wasn’t much else even remotely similar between the upstairs posh flats and our backstairs home.
I just hoped that I’d get to spend more time this side of the apartment block . . .
Dad left Charlie and me at the lift and headed back to his office. As we crossed the Reception area, we saw the boy from the house next door to ours lounging on one of the sofas by the right of the Reception desk, across from Didier and Yoram who were busy taking everything in: who was around; who was talking to who.
Clearly we were OK, so Yoram went back to reading his paper.
‘Welcome,’ said the boy on the sofa.
‘’Scuse me?’ I said.
The boy stretched his arms behind his neck and leant back. He had a nice face with deep brown eyes and a full smiley mouth. He indicated the area with his chin. ‘Welcome to my apartment block,’ he said.
I laughed. ‘Yeah, right.’
‘And you are?’
‘Charlie. And sister, Jess,’ said Chaz.
‘Sister Jess? Oh, a nun,’ said the boy. ‘In plain clothes.’
‘No, dope head. I’m not a nun. I’m Charlie’s sister – as in related, not as in holy holy.’
The boy grinned. ‘I knew that.’
‘I knew that you knew that,’ I fired back.
‘I knew that you knew that I knew that,’ he said.
‘Bit of a know-all, then, aren’t you?’ I said. It’s a curious thing that when I don’t fancy a boy, I can chat away quite happily. It’s only when I really like someone that I act like an idiot and talk like I have no brain.
The boy laughed. ‘I’m Henry. Son of Trevor. Dad will be looking after the bike shed.’
‘Bike shed?’ I asked.
‘Transport,’ said Henry.
‘Hardly bikes,’ said Charlie. ‘I’ve been down there. Those cars are awesome. Ferraris, Mercedes, Maclarens . . .’
‘Yeah, and the usual bunch of Rolls-Royces of course. To be expected,’ said Henry.
‘Ooh, a Rolls-Royce,’ I said, in my best posh queen voice. ‘How very common.’
The boys ignored me.
‘Didier told me that there’s a Bugatti Veyron coming,’ said Charlie.
‘What’s a Bugatti Veyron?’ I asked. ‘Sounds like some kind of deadly insect.’
‘Only the most awesome car ever,’ Charlie replied.
‘Costs a mere one point five two mill,’ said Henry.
‘For a car?’ I gasped. ‘What a waste. Who cares what it costs, does it go? That’s what’s important. Oh – and maybe the colour.’
Henry and Charlie exchanged a ‘stupid girl, what does she know?’ glance. I could see that they would be friends.
‘I’m sure you could get one in pink,’ said Charlie.
Henry laughed. ‘So, is it just you two or is there another sister?’ he asked.
Hah! So he had clocked Pia. I’d text her later to let her know. In the meantime, I wasn’t going to make it easy for him. I was going to make him ask who Pia was.
‘No, just us two. Son and daughter of Michael. The manager.’
‘Yeah, but the other girl? I thought I saw you with someone.’
‘I guess there is another one of us you might have seen near our window.’
‘I thought so,’ said Henry.
‘Short, dark?’
Henry nodded.
‘That would be my cat, Dave.’
‘Dave?’
‘Dave. So, Henry, what do you think of the place so far?’
He shrugged. ‘Not sure. Different. Not exactly homely, is it?’
I sat next to him. I could tell we were going to get along too, not just him and Charlie.
7
New Neighbours
‘Hey, something’s happening,’ said Charlie as we got off our bus the following Tuesday after school. We made our way up the street towards Number 1, Porchester Park, where a crowd of photographers were gathered outside the courtyard area with a very stern-looking Didier and Yoram blocking their way. The journalists weren’t put off. Cameras were flashing. One man had a small stepladder and had positioned himself so he had a view over the heads of his competitors. All of them had ginormous lenses.
‘Looks like paparazzi,’ I said, and we hurried closer to get a better look. Behind the doormen, I could see a black limo parked at the entrance, and one of the young porters I’d seen at the staff party was taking suitcases out of the boot. Must be the Lewis family, I thought. Dad had mentioned that they were due to arrive today. To get my photo taken with the car or maybe even with one of them in the b
ackground would be so cool. My cred as someone to know would become sky high at school.
I glimpsed Mrs Lewis get out of the back of the limo and hurry into Reception. I recognised her from the magazine I’d seen at Pia’s house. She had a grey trouser suit and dark glasses on, and looked very glamorous. A tall man got out after her and the photographers went crazy. It was Jefferson Lewis. He turned briefly to look at them as their cameras flashed. He looked every inch the screen idol, tall, dark, handsome and, from what I could see, impeccably dressed all in black.
I managed to catch Yoram’s eye. ‘Can we get through?’ I asked.
Twenty pairs of eyes turned to see who had spoken.
‘Who’s that?’ asked a short fat man.
‘Go round the back, Jess, and you, Charlie,’ Yoram called. ‘Use the side entrance.’
‘Who are they?’ asked a slim blonde woman.
‘Nobody,’ said Yoram.
‘Nobody as in you’re putting us off, or nobody as in nobody?’ demanded the short fat man.
‘Nobody. Staff kids,’ said Yoram, and he jerked his chin in our direction. ‘You two, hop it. Now. Disappear.’
‘Is that Jefferson Lewis?’ I asked one of the photographers.
‘And his family,’ he replied as two tall teenagers, a boy and a girl, were ushered inside after Mr and Mrs Lewis.
They must be Alisha and Jerome Lewis, I thought, but I couldn’t see them properly through the crowd. I really wanted to stay and see what was happening, but Yoram’s tone had suggested that wouldn’t be a good idea, so, reluctantly, Charlie and I sloped off around to the side entrance.
‘Nobody, huh?’ I said. ‘Cheek.’
Charlie shrugged. ‘Some day we’ll show them, eh?’
More residents were due to arrive the next day. I managed to slip down for my swim as usual in the morning and then had a quick nose around before school. It was just as it had been, apart from the fact that everyone who worked there was now wearing a smart suit, Yoram no longer had his nose in a newspaper and there were three tall flower arrangements on a long glass table that hadn’t been there before. White orchids with green stems, maybe bamboo. Classy.
When I got back that evening, it was the same: still no sign that anything had changed or that the Lewis family had arrived the day before. Even the paparazzi had moved on. Dad said that everyone’s luggage had been taken up in the lifts at the back of the building so that other residents wouldn’t be disturbed and it was part of his job to keep the lobby an oasis of calm. He seemed madly busy, though, and had organised a lady called Sheila to do our supper. She was a big smiley woman with short dark hair, an enormous chest, and a South African accent: she said yah instead of yes. I got the feeling we’d be seeing a lot of her when she asked what we liked to eat and what our favourite snacks were, then had a rummage around in the fridge and cupboards before making a shopping list of groceries.
‘Even though it all looks the same, something has changed around here,’ I said to Charlie after a supper of macaroni cheese, which Henry had joined us for. ‘It’s like everyone is on high alert, like they’re being watched.’
‘It’s called working,’ said Charlie.
‘Will there be a welcome party when a few more of them have arrived?’ I asked Dad when he popped back to pick up his BlackBerry. ‘Like the one for the staff?’
Henry shook his head. ‘These people don’t come to meet their neighbours. They buy into a place like this for privacy.’
‘Exactly,’ said Dad.
‘I bet their teenagers would like to meet other people their own age, though,’ I said.
‘Maybe,’ said Dad. ‘But that’s up to the family, not us. OK, gotta go. Don’t stay up too late.’
I felt disappointed. I’d been looking forward to meeting Alisha and Jerome Lewis and I knew that Pia was waiting to hear all about them too.
On Friday, I got up to go for my swim as usual.
‘Sorry, Jess, but you can’t come in here any more,’ said Poppy, when I turned up at the spa.
‘I can’t? Why not?’ I asked.
‘Mr Knight was here yesterday. He said that staff aren’t allowed to use the facilities once the residents have moved in.’
I’d heard about Mr Knight. He was the owner of the complex. He was American and lived in New York. Apparently he had a similar apartment block over there in Manhattan.
‘Not even me? Nobody has been using the pool this week. I’ve been the only one in it.’
Poppy looked harassed as the phone rang. ‘Sorry, sweet pea, not even you. And I have to go – people already want treatments and I have to see who’s available to do them.’ She picked up the phone. Conversation over.
I was about to leave when I sensed someone standing behind me. I turned and saw a pretty dark girl in a silky turquoise top and jeans. I recognised her from her photos. Alisha Lewis.
I gave her my best smile and was about to say hi when she walked straight past me like I was invisible. I wanted to make a comment to Poppy about it, but she was still busy on the phone. Weird, I thought. What was that about?
I made my way out of the spa and over to the Reception area for a chat with Didier. I wanted to ask him if he had met any of the new neighbours and what they were like.
‘Hey, Didier, how’s it going?’ I said.
Didier glanced around him. ‘Can’t talk now, I’m working.’
‘No, you’re not. You’re just standing there. No-one’s around.’
‘Not now, but they could arrive any minute.’
‘You talked to me last week.’
‘Place was empty then,’ he said. ‘Now off you go, there’s a good girl.’
Place wasn’t empty, I thought. I was here and Charlie was here and the rest of the staff were here. Don’t we count as people? I felt upset. Hurt. Particularly by the way Alisha had snubbed me, but also because it seemed like no-one had time for me any more. Not even Sita said hi. There was no doubt about it. The atmosphere in the block had changed and I didn’t like it one little bit.
Dad came through and handed Grace some papers, then turned to me.
‘Hey, Jess, what are you doing here? Isn’t it time for school?’
‘I was going to swim but I’ve been told that I can’t. Can you tell Poppy? I mean, you are the boss.’
‘No, Mr Knight is the boss. I’m sorry, Jess, but it’s not allowed. I meant to tell you last night but you were in bed when I got in. In fact, you shouldn’t even really be here from now on, so make yourself scarce, there’s a good girl, and I’ll catch you later.’ His mobile rang and he moved away to answer it while indicating with his left hand that I should go through the door into the staff area. He told whoever was on the phone that he’d call back in a moment, then turned to me, ‘And Jess, can you tell Charlie that you both must use the side entrance from now on. You know the combination for the lock, yes? Memorised it?’
I nodded. ‘Five five three zero eight four.’
‘Good, and make sure you don’t tell anyone.’
‘Too late, I put it on Facebook,’ I said, then added, ‘Joke, Dad,’ when I saw how worried he looked.
‘Mr Hall,’ called Grace from Reception.
‘Coming,’ he said. ‘See you after school, Jess, have a good day.’
I looked around. So this is how it’s going to be, I thought as I watched everyone bustle around. Good girl. Good girl. Now get lost. Last week, I’d thought we could all be friends, but actually they’d just been like actors, waiting in the wings, sharing a laugh. Now the play had started, they were all on stage, acting their allotted roles, and no longer having time to banter with the likes of me. I felt left out. What’s my part? I wondered. In fact, do I even have one? Do I belong here at all?
Later that night, Dad came up to my room. He looked tired as he sat on the end of the bed.
‘Good day?’ he asked.
‘Not really,’ I said.
He didn’t appear to be listening, as he suddenly blurted out: ‘Jess,
I’ve got some bad news for you, I’m afraid. It’s about Dave.’
My stomach immediately knotted. ‘What about him? He’s OK, isn’t he?’ I was sure he was. I’d seen him only an hour ago by the door, which is where he liked to position himself now, probably in the hope that he could escape the moment somebody opened it. Please God, don’t let him have got out and got lost, I thought.
‘Yes, he’s fine. I’m afraid, well . . . The thing is, he can’t stay. I’m really sorry but I don’t make the rules. Dave got out yesterday while you were at school. Didier caught him and brought him back. I don’t know how but he managed to get into the Reception area just as Mr Knight was arriving. Most unfortunate timing. Of course he asked who the cat belonged to and Yoram told him.’ I scowled at that. I knew he had it in for me.
‘He had to, Jess,’ said Dad. ‘It’s his business to know everyone who comes through the doors, human or animal. Mr Knight wasn’t happy and said that staff are here to provide service to the residents at all times – no distractions. So no pets.’
‘But he’s my pet and I’m not staff.’
‘I know, love, but I am.’
Normally I would have made a joke about Dad not being my pet, but I didn’t feel like it. ‘But you don’t understand. I need Dave. After Pia and Charlie, he’s my best friend.’ I felt a lump come to my throat. I couldn’t imagine life without Dave. I’d had him since I was five and he’d been there to cuddle all through the good and bad times: when Mum was ill, he had seemed to sense when I was in need and would come and sit with me and put a paw up to my cheek like he understood. So no Dave? It just wasn’t an option.
‘I’m sorry, Jess. I’m afraid I have to insist. I want you to speak to your gran and see if she’ll take him back.’ He reached over to take my hand but I snatched it back under the cover.
‘Maybe she’ll take me back too,’ I snapped.
Dad sighed. ‘You never know, Jess. Dave may even be happier there.’
Million Dollar Mates Page 6