‘Four o’clock,’ said Lucy as she looked around the meeting place. ‘Still no one here.’
‘Four o’clock and one minute,’ said TJ a minute later.
‘Four o’clock and two minutes,’ said Izzie a minute after that.
‘Shut up, will you,’ I said. ‘For God’s sake, chill. We said for people to meet here at four-thirty, there’s loads of time yet.’ But inside, I was worried that Doreen had been right and no one else was going to turn up and we’d be a small pathetic group holding our letters and our wallpaper up for no one to see.
‘Come on,’ said Lucy. ‘Let’s get organised, at least.’ And she went into overdrive rolling out the wallpaper and sticking the sheets of paper with our individual invites onto it.
We had all written on different coloured paper so even though there weren’t many letters yet, the display at least looked colourful – and Izzie had stuck bright blue stars all over hers. We held it up to see how long it was so far and it stretched out about four feet. I’d imagined that there would be hundreds of us, all holding up the wallpaper stretched out to fill the space between the Tube station and the entrance.
A Tube train rattled into the station and a number of people got off. I strained to see if there was anyone there from school but there only seemed to be a few commuters going the other way.
Another Tube. Still no one from school.
Another Tube. Still no one. And it was twenty past four.
Another Tube. And . . .
‘Hey, there’s Sara Jenkins and her mates from Year Nine,’ said Lucy as she waved like a lunatic at them and they came to join us. A few minutes later, another group from Year Ten arrived. Then another lot. Then another. Then Candice Carter and all her mates. Before long most of our class had shown up. Lal looked as happy as a pig in muck when he realised how many girls were turning up and he quickly made himself useful pasting letters, unrolling more wallpaper and flirting for all he was worth. Steve took photos, as TJ said it would be a great shot for the school magazine and would show Doreen that she was wrong.
By four-forty, there was a fantastic crowd. We were all ready. We were all lined up, letters in place but where were the people from inside Olympia?
‘Go and check,’ I said to Tony. ‘Maybe the show’s running late today because it’s the last night.’
Tony had just set off up towards the hall when the doors opened and crowds started flowing out.
‘Ah, here they come,’ I said. ‘I reckon the models will follow in about ten or fifteen minutes. Keep your eyes peeled for Star everyone.’
The crowd coming out of Olympia were curious about the group of teenagers hanging about outside holding up an enormous roll of wallpaper and most of them stopped to either read the letters or ask what was going on.
‘Can I take a photo?’ asked an American man as he held up a camera.
‘Go ahead,’ I said, and after he’d taken his photo, he handed me twenty pounds.
‘For your cause, ma’am,’ he said. ‘Good luck and have a nice evening.’
‘Thank you,’ I said.
And then a few others followed his lead and asked if they could make donations. Before long, I’d collected fifty pounds.
Slowly the crowd dispersed and the Tube carried most of them away. Only a few people were still drifting out of the hall.
‘Do you know if Star Axford has left yet?’ I asked one pretty young girl who looked like she might have been a model.
‘Don’t think so,’ she said as she held her bag up over her head as it was beginning to drizzle.
‘Oh God,’ I said as I looked up at the sky then down the line of people. ‘OK gang, everyone with a brolly stand next to someone without one and try and keep the paper dry.’
Luckily most of the girls from our school had brought umbrellas and up they went so that we could protect our wall of letters. Oh please come soon Star, I thought as the rain got heavier, please, or else there’s only going to be a soggy mess for you to look at.
A few seconds later, a white van came whizzing round the corner, pulled up and a man and a woman got out. The man was carrying a camera and the other was a blonde lady I recognised as Monisha Harris. She worked as a roving reporter for the same cable station as Mum. I’d met her last summer when she came to our flat for one of the barbecues Mum likes to throw from time to time for her work colleagues. I nudged Izzie.
‘Must have come to film the last show,’ I said. ‘Bit late.’
‘They’re coming over here,’ said Izzie as the cameraman strode over in our direction.
‘Where’s Nesta Williams?’ asked Monisha and someone pointed to me.
She walked over to me. ‘Hi, Nesta. So what’s all this about?’ she asked as the man pointed the camera at me. ‘Your mum sent us down here. Said there was a story for the early evening London news.’
Good old Mum, I thought. She must have mentioned that we were down here when she went in to do her shift.
‘We’re here to ask Star Axford to come to our school dance,’ I said looking into the camera. ‘It’s in aid of the Lotus Hospice, North London, and we’re trying to raise fifty thousand pounds so that they can build a new wing.’
Monisha asked me a few more questions and let me explain a little about the cause and then went down the line filming some of the letters.
It was then that Star came out.
‘There she is,’ said TJ pointing then waving. ‘Star. Star. Over here.’
Star looked over at the line of people staring at her and waving and looked bemused. Monisha and the cameraman raced over to her and said something that I couldn’t hear and then the skies really did open and the rain began to pour. The camera man held up his jacket for Star so that she didn’t get wet and escorted her and Monisha back up the steps to the hall where they all disappeared.
‘Noooo,’ I cried. ‘Hey Star, Star.’
We were all yelling. ‘Star. STAR. Staaaaaaaaarrrrr.’
But she’d gone and we hadn’t had a chance to show her our letters or make our request.
And by now it was pouring down.
‘So much for your no-rain dance,’ I said to Ben.
‘Sorry,’ he said with a shrug.
Everyone did the best that they could to stop the paper getting wet but the rain was coming down at an angle and it was hard to protect it. The ink began to run. The paper grew soft. Some of it disintegrated, turned to mush and tore. Soon all that was left was a coloured streak on the pavement and we were all getting wetter by the minute.
Tony looked at me, shrugged then began singing the song from the movie, Singing in the Rain and dancing around like Gene Kelly. Ben joined in and then Steve and Lal who were soon followed by some of the girls. After a few minutes, loads of people were dancing, singing, getting soaked and having a great old time. Up on the steps of Olympia, I could see the cameraman laughing as he filmed it all.
I looked around at half our school splashing about in puddles with their hair plastered flat with rain.
‘Well, that was a disaster,’ I said as I let my umbrella go and joined in the mad rain dance.
‘Quick, quick, Tony, Nesta,’ called Dad when we got home later that evening. ‘You’re on the local news.’
We raced into the living room to watch and there on the screen, in all our glory were about a hundred very wet teenagers singing and dancing outside Olympia. It looked like pandemonium but luckily the cameraman and Monisha Harris had grasped what we were trying to do.
‘Ohmigod! It’s me!’ I gasped when suddenly I appeared on the screen explaining what it was all about.
After a few lines from me, it was cut to the line of paper before the sog set in with a voice-over from Monisha explaining why we were all there.
And then there she was with Star back inside Olympia.
‘And so the big question is, Miss Axford, will you be accepting the invitation to this Diamond Destiny Dance?’ asked Monisha.
I held my breath as I waited to hear Sta
r’s answer.
‘I have a brother and sister about the age of everyone who turned up this afternoon,’ she said. ‘I got to thinking, what if it was them out there asking me to go to their dance. So, Monisha, the answer is yes, I will be going.’
Tony and I threw cushions up into the air.
‘Hurrah!’ I cried. ‘It worked.’
I raced to my room to get on the phone and make sure the others had seen it as well. And I couldn’t resist calling William to tell him the good news.
‘Yeah. I saw you,’ he said. ‘I was about to call you. You looked great. And the last shot of you all dancing in the rain made me laugh out loud.’
‘Thanks,’ I said. I felt as high as a kite. ‘So you can tell Eleanor mission almost accomplished.’
‘Mission accomplished? What mission?’
‘Made you laugh. Cheered you up.’ Oh God, ohGodohGodohGodddd I thought as I heard the words come out of my mouth and I realised it was too late to take them back.
‘What do you mean?’ William asked.
‘Mean? Oh. Yeah. Nothing, really. Talking my usual rubbish. Just I’m glad I made you laugh. Er . . . we can celebrate at the weekend. If you . . . I mean, do you still . . .?’ It was coming out all wrong and it wasn’t helped by the ominous silence at the other end. ‘William, are you still there?’
‘Yes. I’m still here.’
‘So do you still want to meet up at the weekend?’
‘Doubt it. Eleanor’s not good at the moment. You said something about her. Mission accomplished? What’s she got to do with this?’
‘Eleanor? Nothing. Not really. Me blabbing. Sorry. I don’t know what I’m talking about. Stupid.’
‘I’ll ask her to tell me. And she will.’
I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me. Why had I opened my big stupid mouth? Stupid Stupid. ‘No, please don’t. Look, it’s nothing. Not really. OK. Look. Just she said you’d been a bit down and that I should cheer you up. You know, she was looking after you like you look after her.’
More silence.
‘So you . . . everything . . . it’s all been because Eleanor asked you?’ asked William finally.
‘Nooooo. Course not. I wanted to. I’ve enjoyed . . . the . . . the contact we’ve had. Everything.’
‘OK,’ said William and the tone of his voice was cool. ‘Let’s get one thing clear and that is, I’m OK. I don’t need cheering up. I am not a saddo who you need to feel sorry for just because my sister is ill. I can look after myself.’
‘Oh, please don’t tell Eleanor that I told you. She asked me not to tell you. I . . . I think she only wanted you to be OK.’
‘I won’t say anything,’ he said. ‘Bye then.’
And then he hung up.
I felt numb as I sat back on my bed. Hell, I thought. If only I could wipe out the last few minutes. Skip back. Delete. I felt so frustrated. I wanted to kick myself or the wall or something.
‘Arrghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,’ I yelled and punched my pillows with all my might.
Mum came running down the corridor and rushed in.
‘What’s the matter? I heard you yell?’ she asked as she looked around. ‘Are you all right?’
‘I am the most stupid idiot in the world and I should have my mouth taped up.’
‘Why? What’s happened?’
I turned over and faced the wall. ‘Nothing,’ I said.
Mum sighed. ‘Nothing?’
I turned back to her, nodded and acted out zipping my lips. ‘I’ve already said too much.’
‘Oh, Nesta . . .’
I unzipped my lips. ‘Sorry. Shouldn’t have yelled. Moment of madness. Passed now. Need to be alone.’
Mum rolled her eyes. ‘OK . . . but you know I’m here if you need me?’
I nodded again. Inwardly I vowed not to tell anyone about what I’d just said to William. It was so stupid and I didn’t want to hear the inevitable reactions. Oh noooo. Nesta, you didn’t? You idiot, etc. etc. I didn’t want the looks that I knew they’d give me and each other – as if to say, oh well, that’s what we’ve come to expect from Big Mouth Nesta. She’s always putting her foot in it. Never stops to think before she speaks. She’s so insensitive.
And it was true but this time, this time, I’d really blown it.
Tickets started to sell.
Donations started to come in.
By the following Wednesday, we had sold almost five hundred of the tickets and were having to have another batch printed. There was even talk that we might have to put a marquee in the car park next to the hall where the dance was being held to cope with the overflow of people.
After school on Wednesday, I met up with the girls at Banner’s café in Crouch End to have a quick run-through the plans for Saturday night. We got a table at the back in one of the booths that feels as if you’re a private compartment in an old-fashioned train.
‘Music,’ I said as I went through my list.
‘Check,’ said Izzie. ‘Ben’s got it sorted with the band. DJ Diggie will be there early to set up his system and Steve has done a fab soundtrack for the fashion show. His friend Mark will work the sound system while Steve takes photos out front and I think another friend is going to video it all.’
‘Excellent job, Izzie. You’ve done brilliantly getting all that organised. Clothes?’
‘Check,’ said Lucy. ‘We have some fabulous things for Star to choose from. And the local dry cleaners cleaned all the donations from the charity shops free of charge, so that’s brillopad.’
‘You guys have been so great. All of you,’ I said as I could see how hard they’d all worked and I thought that they deserved to be told so. My mum is always saying, give credit where it’s due so I try to do that. ‘Other models?’
‘Other models? Besides Star, you mean?’ asked TJ.
‘Er . . . yeah, no . . .’
‘Yes, I have a list here,’ said Lucy.
I felt awkward for a moment as I assumed that they’d automatically want me to be one of the models but Lucy hadn’t mentioned it. My disappointment must have shown on my face as Izzie picked up on it immediately.
‘Oh!’ she said. ‘Nesta. Did you want to model?’
‘Not necessarily but – hey, yeah. Why not? I mean, I’m not being big-headed or anything but you know, people are always saying I could have been one and I did blag my way into Olympia pretending that I was one and no one asked any questions and . . .’ I felt myself trailing off because it felt weird explaining myself to my best friends. I’d have thought that they would have taken it as read.
‘It’s not that,’ said Izzie. ‘Of course you’d be a fantastic model. And so would Lucy and TJ. But there’s so much other stuff to do and we thought that – well, you’ve done so much. Organised so much. We didn’t think you’d want to model as well.’
But that will be the best bit, I thought. I’d had visions of myself looking fab and coming down the catwalk with Star and everyone would be saying, Hey, that’s Nesta Williams. She’s the one behind all this you know and some of it might get back to William and when he heard how hard I’d worked, he wouldn’t hate me as much as I was sure he did. But then . . . if I wasn’t wanted . . .
‘I have a list of about thirty people who want to model,’ said Lucy. ‘I thought it would be great to get as many as possible up there.’
‘And we thought, let’s not go for the obvious models,’ said Izzie. ‘Let’s let everyone have a go. Short, plump, whatever. Show that you don’t have to be tall and skinny to look good. With the right hair, make-up and clothes everyone can look great. And real girls are more “in” this year anyway, aren’t they?’
‘Yeah,’ said Lucy. ‘It would be a good message to have girls who looked like girls and not beanpoles who starve themselves.’
I’d been voted out and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. It was to have been my moment of glory and I already had an outfit that Lucy made for me last year picked out. I decided not to let on that I was peeve
d about it and then see if later, I could talk them into letting me do it.
‘OK. Cool. Funds?’ I asked trying to act as if I wasn’t bothered at all.
‘Check,’ said TJ. ‘We’re doing well. We’ve sold five hundred tickets. At eight pounds each, that’s four thousand and with other bits that will come in on the night, it will be closer to five thousand.’
‘Is that all?’ I groaned. ‘After all my effort, we’re still nowhere near the goal.’
Izzie looked surprised. ‘Your effort?’
‘Er . . . our effort,’ corrected Lucy.
‘Yeah. Course, I mean . . . our effort,’ I stuttered. ‘That’s what I meant. You know it was.’ And then I thought I’d gone out of my way to thank everyone for their efforts but no one had acknowledged my contribution at all. ‘Although it was my idea to get Star.’
‘Yeah, but it was a joint effort in the end,’ said Izzie.
‘Yeah, but it was my mum who sent the camera crew,’ I said.
‘So what? Lucy’s been up late every night this week sewing,’ said Izzie. ‘And TJ’s been holding quiz nights and all sorts of sports activities to raise money. And half the school have been involved in one way or other. It doesn’t all revolve around you.’
‘I know that and I said I thought you’d all been totally brill but . . .’
‘Hold on a mo,’ said TJ. ‘Look, it doesn’t matter who did what. Come on, you guys, let’s not fall out. It’s not about us or anyone else taking the glory.’
We all agreed. I decided that we must be tired with the late nights but I could see Lucy and Izzie giving me strange looks and the atmosphere had soured. It wasn’t fair. I wasn’t trying to take all the credit, not exactly. I just didn’t think that anyone had appreciated how hard I’d worked too.
When the others got up to go, I hung back.
‘Are you coming?’ asked Izzie.
‘Nah. Got a few more notes to make,’ I said. ‘Last minute things, you know.’
‘Suit yourself,’ said Lucy and left with Izzie and TJ.
They hate me. I could tell. They were going to go out to the bus stop and talk about me and how I wanted to take all the credit and how I was self-obsessed. But I wasn’t. Well, only a bit. I felt peeved. It had all been my idea and if it hadn’t been for me, maybe there would still only have been ten tickets sold for the stupid dance. It wouldn’t hurt anyone to acknowledge that an incy wincy bit.
Mates, Dates and Diamond Destiny Page 12