‘I know, I want to, but I just keep …’
‘Blurting?’
‘Yaah.’
‘Why don’t you do this to start with? Forget Freddie and his pathetic Royal Bore because that’s what it is, darling, a lot of old royals showing off their jewels and titles to each other. Forget the La Fiesta Ball. If I’m not in London you can’t stay in our London house alone, which means you don’t have anywhere to stay because everyone’s coming to Derbyshire. So here’s the plan. Come up to my house party.’ She nudged me. ‘Come on darling, it’ll be a laugh. And without you I’ll only pine.’
I smiled in the darkness at my friend’s concern. The gulf didn’t seem so huge now – and then I remembered. ‘I’ve already bought my ticket, though … we all did.’ She didn’t reply, but we had a cuddle, and she scuttled back to her own room, leaving me in the dark as it slowly began to dawn on me that she was right. Without Star’s London house, I had nowhere to stay during the half-term break. I was going to have to let go of my long-held dream of attending a Capital VIP ball. Like so many of my dreams.
‘You can always stay at my house,’ Honey’s voice piped up out of the darkness, and for a bit I thought she must be talking in her sleep. ‘It’ll only be you, me and the servants. Poppy and Mummy are going to LA for the Dulson premier,’ she whispered.
The Dulson film was the most hotly awaited film in the world.
I told her I’d think about it in an out-of-body-ish sort of way, still wondering if I’d really heard properly. I could see the flame of her lighter as she lit a cigarette. She opened the window up an inch and blew out a puff of smoke.
Could it be true that Honey, my nemesis, the girl who had made my life hell all these years, was offering to have me as a house guest in her famous Chelsea mansion?
I didn’t get time to dwell on this as we heard the tap, tap, tap of Miss Bibsmore coming up the steps. Any sensible girl would have put out her cigarette and sprayed the air liberally with Febreze. Honey continued to lay there in the dark though and smoke.
The fluorescent lights flickered on.
‘I thought I smelled smoke, Miss O’Hare.’
‘Oh, bugger off. I can’t sleep without a cigarette. It’s not my fault they make cigarettes addictive. Speak to the tobacco giants, Miss Bibsmore. I’m just a victim of their corporate might.’
‘Hah. You’re about to become a victim of my might, Miss O’Hare an’ all. Twenty pounds please.’ She stuck her hand out for the cash.
Honey pulled her duvet up around her chin and looked at Miss Bibsmore like she was a crazed lunatic. ‘Leave me alone.’
‘Come on, open up your tight little fist and hand over the readies. Twenty pounds on the spot fine, that’s school rules an’ all. You knows it, I knows it, so if you have a problem with it, you can speak to your corporate giants innit!’
Honey put her cigarette out ostentatiously and pulled twenty quid out of her top drawer. ‘There, you miserable old witch. Take the money I was saving up for my cancer treatment.’ She threw the note at Miss Bibsmore and watched as it fluttered to the floor.
Miss Bibsmore creaked and groaned as she bent to pick it up.
‘You really need to exercise more, Miss B. Your joints are creaking,’ Honey told her in a voice of faux concern.
‘Well I ‘ope your joints hold up over the next week an’ all. You’re on litter duty, starting tomorrow. Nightie night, girls.’
TWENTY:
If You Can’t Pull the Boy You Want … Pull the Boy You’re With
Saturday was one of those beautifully sunny days you occasionally get in England in autumn. I couldn’t wait to feel the sun on my face, but Star and Indie decided to spend the day in one of the music rooms working on their latest track about a girl who feels burdened by the enormity of her privilege. Apparently it was seriously coming along, and for the first time I didn’t really mind that it was Indie having to share that experience rather than me.
Georgina elected to stay and listen, but I’d already heard most of what they were working on and it sounded like a bag of cats being murdered, so I jumped at Honey’s suggestion to share a taxi to Windsor with her and Portia. At the back of my mind, I guess I thought this might be my chance to make peace with Portia.
‘What about your litter duty?’ I asked Honey.
‘Oh, I paid a Year Seven to do it for me.’
‘Frightened one to death to do it, more like it,’ I thought I heard Portia mutter, but I didn’t see her lips move, so I decided I must have imagined it.
I was feeling a bit quiet and self-contained myself as I ran through the apology and make-up speech I needed to make.
Honey, sitting between the two of us, chatted away merrily. ‘Even though I’ve decided it is too, too tragic to pull school boys at my age, I think, as I’ll be sixteen next term, realistically I’m going to have to settle for them during term time darlings. Such a drag, but there it is.’
Neither Portia nor I responded. Apart from anything else, we’d both heard the speech several times already that term. The taxi driver responded, though. ‘On the pull, are we girls?’ he asked jovially.
‘Oh, shut up, you village-dwelling peasant,’ Honey snapped – and he duly did. ‘Which is why I thought we may as well go to the Three Swans,’ she added to Portia and me.
Portia was as silent as the Sphinx.
‘But that’s a pub, isn’t it?’ I blurted.
‘We are allowed to go into pubs, darling,’ she reminded me. ‘Just not allowed to order alcohol.’
‘Oh,’ I said, feeling like the fourteen-year-old know-nothing baby I was. ‘Don’t you have to be accompanied by an adult?’
‘Oh, Calypso, Calypso, Calypso. That is why, darling airheaded creature that you are, I did you the massive favour of calling Billy. He’s going to be there with some of his friends. You know he used to go out with my sister. She dumped him for someone less plebbie, of course, but he utterly adores moi.’
I thought Billy dumped Poppy, I was thinking to myself, but typically I must have said it out loud.
But as it turned out, it can’t have been me who said it, as the next words that came from Honey’s lips proved. ‘How would you know anything, Portia? Shouldn’t you be busy mourning the death of your mother instead of listening to malicious gossip?’
‘Honey!’ I snapped, leaning over to Portia to show my solidarity, but she had turned her face towards the window.
I tried to reach out my hand to her but we were pulling into Windsor; and before the car even drew to a standstill, Portia had already unbuckled her seat belt, jumped out of the moving car and run off through the streets. The driver went mental.
‘I think we’d better run after her,’ I told Honey. ‘That was really poisonous, even for you, Honey.’
Honey fluttered her implausibly long fake lashes and arched one professionally plucked brow. ‘Don’t be so wet, Calypso. Forget about old Misery Briggs, darling. She’s such a drama queen.’
Even with all my resentments against Portia, one thing she was not was a drama queen. Honey had no competition for that particular crown.
‘Honey, we’ve got to chase after her. We can’t just leave her when she’s so blatantly upset. That was really horrible of you,’ I repeated.
Honey paid for the taxi and then, taking my hand in hers and swinging it like we were the best of friends, led me through the sunlit cobbled streets towards the pub. ‘She’s probably run off to cry on her brother’s or Freddie’s shoulder, darling.’
I winced, but knew it was pointless to react.
‘Let’s meet up with the others at the pub. If she wants to find us at least she knows where to look.’
‘I suppose that’s true,’ I agreed, conceding defeat despite my disappointment that Honey had now blown my chances of sorting things out with Portia probably forever.
‘Besides, I don’t know why you care; she stole Freddie.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Look, it’s all ove
r Eades that they are an item.’
Honey checked my reaction as we were entering the Three Swans.
‘But not to worry, darling. I couldn’t tell you in the taxi with Misery Briggs, but Billy wants to get back with you.’
‘Back with me where?’ I said as the smell and noise of the pub arrested my senses. I’d never been in a pub before, so I didn’t know what to expect as we pushed the door open on the low-ceilinged, smoke-choked room. I looked around but I couldn’t see Billy anywhere. I saw Poppy, though. She was sitting in a red velvet upholstered corner booth smoking with two other Upper Sixth girls. I remembered the Post-it Notes they slapped on my back last July when Honey was running her Post-it Note campaign against me. We made our way towards them. They were all smiling at me as if I was the only girl in the world they wanted to be with, asking me what I wanted to drink and telling me how much they adored my outfit.
‘You look stunning, Calypso,’ Poppy said, making room for me in the booth. My instinct was to run but everyone seemed so friendly, and I didn’t really have anywhere to run to.
‘I know! Doesn’t she do wonders for an American?’ Honey boasted. ‘She’s practically got style, almost.’
I scrutinised Honey’s face, but she looked genuinely proud of me, and so I relaxed and sat down. Poppy and company were accompanied by about half a dozen madly fit Upper Sixth Eades boys. Poppy introduced me, and they all stood and air-kissed me before falling back into a conversation about some arcane game of football they play at Eades.
A boy named Charles Von Archmontberg asked me if I wanted a drink, but before I could answer, Poppy dived in. ‘Just get her a vod and Diet Coke, darling, and another for me.’ She blew him a kiss, but he looked to me for confirmation. I smiled and nodded nervously. I wasn’t about to disagree with Poppy O’Hare.
‘Here’s yours, darling,’ Poppy told Honey, pushing a glass across to her half-sister. ‘Vod and Diet Coke, but pretend this straight Coke is yours if anyone asks,’ she warned, pushing another glass across to her. Then she turned away and rejoined the conversation she was having with the boys.
‘So when is Billy coming, then?’ I asked, looking about the heavy low-beamed pub full of Eades boys and Saint Augustine’s girls. I scanned the room, with its dark oak furniture, plush patterned carpet and walls covered in etchings of Windsor Castle, in the hope of spotting him.
Poppy turned to me. ‘God, I hope not,’ she groaned, blowing a plume of smoke right in my face. ‘That hideous little pleb. Ugh!’ she shivered at the memory. ‘Goodness knows what I ever saw in him.’ She took a long deep drag on her impossibly long, thin pink cocktail cigarette and blew some more smoke in my face.
I turned to Honey and tried not to cough. ‘But you said …’
Charles returned with my drink and plonked it in front of me. ‘One vodka and Diet Coke,’ he declared, smiling in a flirty way at me.
Honey laughed her hyena laugh. ‘Oh, I just told you Billy would be here to make sure you came, darling. I had to save you from Misery Briggs, and I knew you’d come if you thought Billy was going to be here.’ She nudged me. ‘He really did call me though to tell me he fancies you. Whoops! I wasn’t meant to tell you that,’ she said, putting her hand over her mouth as if she was ashamed.
‘Got the hots for the Gypo, have you?’ one of the boys asked nastily, and all the others laughed loudly.
One of them, I think his name was Peregrine or something stupid like that, leaned in so closely I could smell the Guinness on his breath. ‘You do know his father rents limos?’
‘Well, your father sells mineral water, Grins,’ declared another boy, who’d been introduced to me as Sebastian.
The rest of the group, including the girls, found this so hilarious the table rang with guffaws and shrill laughter.
Peregrine defended himself above the noise. ‘Owns Britain’s major spring water company, I’ll thank you,’ he said, taking a gulp of Guinness. ‘Been in the family for generations.’ With that, he poured what was left of his Guinness onto Sebastian’s lap. After that, one thing led to another. The crowning moment came when Cameron and Archer poured their drinks on top of Peregrine’s head with the chant, ‘Chav, chav, chav.’
I was in Hoorah Henry Hell, and as I looked around me, I couldn’t really see a polite way of getting out of this aristocratic pub brawl. So I just stood up and legged it like a mugger down Oxford Street.
Sometimes escape is the better part of valour, I think.
I charged through the cobbled streets, heading towards the tea shop I’d caught the taxi from last time I was in Windsor. Everything had been so clear that weekend, before Freddie mentioned the ball. I was so relieved to see Billy chatting to another boy that I threw my arms around him like in a damsel in distress. ‘Save me, Billy!’ I cried.
He laughed as he untangled my arms from around his neck. ‘Slow down,’ he said, grinning kindly. ‘What do I have to save you from this time? Another dog?’
‘Hardly, this was far more hideous. I was in the Three Swans with Honey and Poppy.’
‘Nice company you’re keeping,’ he added ruefully.
‘And loads of Eades boys. It was hideous, Billy. They were all pouring Guinness over one another, and I was just sitting there with Poppy and her friends, and Honey of course. They seemed to find it the most natural thing in the world.’
‘Waste of good Guinness,’ Billy remarked, and in that smile, I saw again all the things that had attracted me to him in the first place. I needed to know if what Honey had said about the way he felt were true. He was squinting into the sun, and as he ran his hand through his blonde mussy hair, my tummy did what can only be described as a massive back flip.
‘By the way, this is Tarquin – you know, Portia’s brother? Tarquin, this is Calypso, the one you’ve heard so much about.’
I went bright red as Tarquin put his hand out to shake mine.
‘How do you do?’ I said awkwardly as I saw Portia heading towards us.
Billy suddenly looked nervous. ‘You did get my txt?’ he muttered to me so that Tarquin couldn’t hear.
Tarquin looked uncomfortable.
‘Which txt would that be?’ I asked flirtily as I watched Billy’s face redden. I couldn’t believe he was still ashamed about not txt-ing me. ‘Honey said something to me, though.’
‘Only, I didn’t mean to give you the wrong idea. Honey?’
Guilt was written all over his face. He’d obviously been too busy to txt but he didn’t want me to think he’d forgotten me. And now he knew Honey had blown his cover. Bless.
‘Forget about txts, forget about Honey anyway. I’ve got the same ideas I’ve always had,’ I assured him, flirtily grabbing his hands in mine. Before he could respond, my witty repartee was interrupted by Portia’s arrival.
I waited for her to say something to me. Something like ‘Hello,’ or, ‘Oh, I see you’ve met my brother.’ Or even better, ‘Why don’t we put the past behind us and just be friends like we were at the start of term?’
But she didn’t say any of those things. What she actually said was, ‘So, should we head off, then?’ She was looking at Billy and her brother as she said this, not at me.
‘Yes,’ agreed Tarquin. ‘Best be off.’
Billy looked at his watch. ‘Yaah, we’d better push off,’ he agreed, adding, ‘Thanks again, Calypso, about, you know, understanding.’
‘Oh, that’s okay, I love understanding,’ I blurted and then I thought, what am I supposed to have understood, actually?
‘So will we see you later, then?’ he asked after the others had already headed off.
That was all the encouragement I needed to go blurtatious, and a stream of madness came pouring forth as it does when I’m faced with the eyes of a fit boy boring into my soul. ‘Yaah, that is, I hope so, Billy. It’s just that, well, I’ll see what I can do but I’m very busy today and I have to meet my … friends.’
‘Not Poppy, Honey and the Guinness wasters?’ he asked, beginning to mo
ve away himself. ‘Laters,’ was all he said as he turned and joined Portia and Tarquin.
I put the icing on the cake of my rambling blurt and called back, ‘Yaah, laters,’ only I didn’t move because, well, it was just a blurt. The fact was, I wasn’t in the least bit busy, and all my friends were back at school in the music room.
It didn’t really matter, because none of them turned around. I felt like a crime scene as I stood there in the bright autumn sun for all of a minute before deciding that with Star, Indie and Georgina back at school, I had little choice. I was meant to stay in a group of three at all times. Also I didn’t want to take a taxi back to school on my own with a potentially grumpy driver who expected enormous tips from posh school girls, so I wandered back to the pub as if I hadn’t ever left it.
I opened the door of the smoke-choked pub, remorseful at having to return to a group of people I really didn’t like. Also I was nervous about being carded. Even though I was tall, I was only fourteen and nine and a half months, and the only ID I possessed was my school library card, and it wasn’t even forged! I looked guiltily around the packed room full to the rafters with older Eades boys and Saint Augustine’s girls. No one appeared to notice me as I made my way over to the guffaws and shrieks of Honey et al.
‘Sorry about that,’ I told Poppy, Honey, the other two girls and the Hoorah Henrys as I sat back down in the booth. ‘I just remembered I had to get some money out of the cash point.’
Yaah, that would be the day. I didn’t even have an ATM card.
TWENTY-ONE:
Think with Your Brain, Move with Your Body, Slam ‘Em with Your Blade!
On Monday, the Eades fencing team loped into our salle with their special we-own-the-world walks, followed by their security men with their we-might-look-like-idiots-but-we-spend-a-lot-of-time-following-these-boys-who-own-the-world-about-so-don’t-mess-with-us-alright swaggers.
I felt very alone and strange without Star to back me up and Portia hating me. Bell End was chatting to the Eades fencing master, Professor Eichstiech. If Star had been here we would have debated whether the two of them were going to hate each other or get on like a couple of weird men with beards.
A Royal Match Page 27