I stood up to walk away.
‘Where are you going to go?’ he called after me.
‘Don’t know,’ I replied.
I’m certainly not going home, I thought. After my pathetic runaway session I’d had some lunch, changed and then called Lal. The weather had cleared and it was a lovely warm day again and I wanted to be outdoors (but not on my own in the woods any more). Mum was going over to Plymouth to teach her classes for the afternoon and there was no sign of Dad, so there was no way I was going to stay in, moping at home. I’d thought Lal would be a good diversionary tactic from the black thoughts threatening to take me over, but no, it hadn’t worked. I’d have to look for something else to take my mind off things.
Lal looked bewildered for a moment, then got up to follow me.
‘OK. I understand,’ he said when he caught up with me. ‘Well, sort of. Not really. One part of me will never get girls. But I wanted to say that if you feel like using me again, that it’s fine by me. I’m used to being thumped about by girls when we have pillow fights. My sister and her mates do it all the time. I quite enjoy it.’
‘No. I can’t. I don’t know . . . I don’t know what to do with myself. I . . . I think I need some time on my own.’
I headed down the slope towards the lane at the bottom of the field.
‘Come and meet the girls,’ said Lal running after me. ‘Izzie, Nesta, TJ and Lucy. They’re going to be on the beach this afternoon at Cawsand. I’ve told them all that you’re my girlfriend and they’re dying to meet you.’
‘No thanks,’ I said. ‘I’m not in the mood for meeting new people. I told you, I’m not myself. I want to be left alone.’
Lia had texted me last night to say she was having a sleepover tonight up at Barton Hall and she was inviting the new crowd. A sort of Welcome to the Rame Peninsula pyjama party, she’d said. I’d decided that I didn’t want to go, as even though we hadn’t met, I’d already had enough of the girls. I called them the Fab Four in my mind, because according to Cat and Lia, everything they did and said and wore was fabulous. I was getting so bored with hearing about them. And also, I didn’t want people coming into my life and asking questions like: Where do you live? And what do your parents do? What was I going to say? Don’t know. Best to stay away, I thought, or else they’d soon realise how totally unfabulous I was.
Lal tried to catch my hand, but I snatched it away.
‘I mean it, Lal. I want to be on my own.’
Lal tried to hug me. ‘You need a hug,’ he said. ‘Come on and meet them. They’re so cool. The coolest girls I know . . .’
If I hear that one more time I shall scream, I thought. Lia had been going on and on about how cool they were. And so had Cat. And so had Mac. Cool and fabulous. Cool and fab. Arrghhh.
‘I have enough friends without making new ones,’ I said.
‘Rubbish. There’s always room for more friends. You’ll have so much in common with them. Especially Izzie. She’s got the most amazing voice and Mac told me that you can sing a bit too . . .’
A bit? A bit! Only came third in a national competition you eejit, I wanted to yell at him but he was still blabbering on about Izzie and her amaaaaazing voice.
Fab and cool and amazing . . . There was no end to how perfect these girls were. Fab Four. They had to be aliens. Or robots. They couldn’t possibly be human.
‘You and Iz can talk about singing,’ Lal continued, totally oblivious to the death-dart looks I was throwing at him. ‘Izzie is in a band up in London and Lia’s dad has been trying to talk her into doing a number at the festival up at Maker or Raker next week.’
Whaaaddddt? That was the last straw. I was supposed to be doing the solo spot there. It was my thing. Mr Axford had promised it to me. And now this Izzie girl was going to do it? No! And already it sounds like she’s in with the Axfords – singing, sleepover, cosy chats with Zac. It was too much! These girls were definitely taking over. No way was I going to go and meet them. I knew we wouldn’t get on.
Lal was sidling up to hug me, but he looked nervous about actually doing it. I was feeling so cross about what he’d said about me singing ‘a bit’ that I shoved him back so hard that he almost fell into a gorse bush, but he steadied himself just in time.
‘Look, just leave me alone, will you? I don’t even know why you’re here. I’m horrible. I’m horrible to you. I’m not a nice person.’
Lal grinned and rubbed his arms where I’d shoved him. ‘No, you’re not. But who wants nice? You’re great. Forceful . . . Possibly the most forceful girl I’ve ever met but I like strong girls.’
‘You are mad,’ I said.
‘Come on, let’s wrestle,’ he said and took up a sumo wrestler’s position opposite me. He tried to move in on me again and I shoved him off again but not as hard as before.
‘Look. I mean it. All you want to do is snog me. There is more to life, you know. Like, I am going through a major crisis and all you can think about is sticking your tongue down my throat.’
Lal grinned. ‘Can’t help it. You’re soooooo gorgeous.’ He knelt on the ground. ‘I am your slave. Use me. Use me. O mistress. I am helpless before your great beauty and my brain turns to mush.’
He had clearly never read any of the ‘How to get a girl’ manuals that tell you not to act desperate. All the same, I couldn’t help but laugh. He looked so pathetic, kneeling there with his hands in the prayer position.
‘Oh, all right. I mean . . . not the using you bit, but I’ll come and meet your friends.’
Lal bounced back up. ‘Great!’ he said. Then grabbed my hand and pulled me down the lane towards Cremyl.
Luckily, there was a bus right away, so we hopped on and got off at Cawsand. Lal took my hand as we approached the beach, then started blabbering on again about how fab the girls were. I began to wish I hadn’t agreed to go with him. I so wasn’t in the mood for meeting the Faaaaaaaaab Four.
As we got nearer, I began to feel inadequate. Never mind me liking them – what if they didn’t like me? They were bound to be wearing some über-gorgeous beach clothes and I was in a pair of old baggy shorts and an old pink T-shirt. I decided to act really cool with them and then make my exit as soon as I could.
Lal soon spotted the girls on the right side of the beach. Lucy was sitting up and she waved us over.
I did a quick assessment as we wound our way through the family groups on deck chairs and towels dotted along the sand. Even from a short distance, the girls stood out in a crowd. They looked like a beach shot from a fashion magazine. There was Lucy who was small, blonde and pretty with a sweet, elfin face. She was wearing a white baseball cap, white bikini and a white sarong. Very simple but chic. Next to her was the most stunning girl I’d ever seen and I almost turned and walked away right there and then. She had skin the colour of fudge ice cream and looked like she’d just stepped out of Italian Vogue. I felt more intimidated than ever. She had long, black hair tied back, cheekbones that could cut glass, big black sunglasses and she was wearing a straw cowboy hat, a tiny lime-green bikini and matching espadrilles. She had the most amazing body. Long, long legs and a perfect shape. I could see all the men sitting nearby sneaking glances at her. Even their wives were ogling. This was clearly Nesta. Next to her were the two other girls. They must be TJ and Izzie, I thought.
Lal picked up on my thoughts. ‘TJ’s the one in the black bikini and Izzie’s the one with the boobs in the turquoise.’
They were striking too. TJ had long, dark hair pulled back in a plait and Izzie had chestnut-coloured shoulder-length hair. Both were tall and sophisticated looking. I wished I hadn’t agreed to come. They were going to take one look at me and think I was a country bumpkin.
‘Hi,’ said Lucy with a big smile, when we finally reached them.
‘Nesta, Izzie, TJ,’ said Lal, ‘this is Becca, the girl I was telling you about. She’s back from Prague. And Lucy you met already.’
Nesta took her glasses off to look at me and her jaw dropped ope
n. ‘Ohmigod. Ohmigod!’ she said as she stared at me open-mouthed.
I turned round to see if she’d seen something happening behind me. ‘What? What?’ There didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary happening on the beach and she was still gawping. Had I got a bogey on my nose? A wasp in my hair? What? What was she looking at?
Nesta shook Izzie. ‘Iz. Wake up. Open your eyes. Look who it is!’
Izzie opened her eyes and looked at me from where she was lying. Then she sat bolt upright and stared at me in the same way as Nesta had.
‘Ohmigod! It’s Becca Howard!’ she said. ‘Lal! You didn’t say you were seeing Becca Howard!’
I felt uncertain as to what to do. If this was some kind of joke that they’d decided to play, then I didn’t think it was funny.
‘Hi, Becca,’ said TJ. ‘Excuse my friends. I think that maybe they haven’t taken their medication today.’
Nesta half laughed, half snorted at her. ‘You don’t know who this is, do you, TJ?’
TJ shook her head in an amused way, then nodded. ‘Er . . . Becca Howard. You just said. Lal’s girlfriend?’
‘’Scuse our friend,’ said Nesta. ‘She can be a bit of a dinosaur sometimes. Doesn’t watch telly like us.’
Lucy was looking as puzzled as I was. She turned to Nesta and said, ‘When your jaw has closed, do you think you could possibly fill the rest of us in?’
‘Duh, Lucy. Becca Howard as in . . .’ said Nesta. She leapt up and gave me a big hug. ‘Pop Princess! We voted for you in every round, didn’t we, Iz?’
Izzie got up to join her. ‘Yeah. We thought you were totally the best and should have won.’
Lal was grinning like an idiot and put his arm round me as if to say that he was proud to be with me.
‘Ohmigod,’ said Lucy. ‘Of course. I should have recognised you. You were soooo brilliant.’
‘You should never have come third,’ said Nesta. ‘You were way better than the girl who won. I think it was fixed.’
‘Yeah,’ said Izzie. ‘You have the most amazing voice.’
I couldn’t help warming to them. ‘Oh. Thanks.’ I’d expected them to be all looking down their noses and arrogant, like we’re it and you’re not. But they were exactly the opposite.
‘God, you have to tell us all about it,’ said Izzie and she took my hand to pull me to sit down next to her. I noticed she had the most beautiful green eyes. ‘I’m dying to ask you a million questions.’
After that, there was no stopping us. We sent Lal off to get us choc ices and we couldn’t stop talking. And they were cool. And fab. And amazing. But what was most astonishing of all was that they thought I was too.
‘ARE YOU AN ONLY CHILD or have you got brothers and sisters? asked Izzie.
‘Do you live near here?’ asked Nesta.
‘What do your mum and dad do?’ asked TJ.
All the questions I’d been dreading were coming at me and, funnily enough, I didn’t mind any more as they were so eager to know all about me. I felt like a celebrity.
It was later on the day that we’d met at Cawsand and we were sprawled out in Lia’s bedroom, ready for the sleepover. Nesta, Izzie and I were lying on Lia’s princess bed with its floaty turquoise canopy above us. Lia and Lucy were sitting in her window seat and TJ and Cat were on beanbags on the floor. Lal had begged to be invited, insisting that sometimes up in London he was allowed to be an honoury girl, but Lucy put her foot down and told him that no boys were allowed and to clear off. He looked so sorry for himself when we waved goodbye down on the beach but his hang-dog expression didn’t persuade them to give in for a second. I was beginning to see why he didn’t mind me bossing and shoving him about. He had it all a hundred times more from this lot.
As we settled in at Barton Hall and got changed into our jim-jams (Lia lent me a pair of pale blue ones with silver stars on them), I learned loads about the Fab Four. Nesta had a brother called Tony, who Lucy was in love with. Nesta had a boyfriend called William, who she was in love with. TJ had a boyfriend called Luke, who she was in love with. Izzie was the only single one.
I shook my head in answer to Izzie’s question about brothers and sisters. ‘Nope, just me.’
‘Lucky you,’ said Lucy.
‘What about you, Izzie?’ I asked. ‘Are you an only child?’
‘Nah, not really. It’s complicated. I have two stepsisters and one stepbrother but none of them live with us. My mum and dad got divorced when I was nine. My dad remarried and they have a baby, Tom – so he’s my half-brother and he’s adorable. My mum married Angus and he had two daughters from his previous marriage, Claudia and Amelia. I used to hate him and them. I called him The Lodger and them the Ugly Stepsisters. I, of course, was Cinderella – misunderstood and never got to go the ball. But I like them all now. I was angry at Mum for ages for breaking up with Dad and blamed her for everything. I reckon that even if she’d married Mr Perfect Hollywood Hunk, I’d still have hated him in the beginning.’
‘I think I’d be like that too,’ I said. ‘But what about you? Is there a boy that you’re interested in?’
Lucy grinned cheekily at her friend.
‘She likes the look of Mac. Don’t you, Iz?’ said Nesta.
Izzie slapped her friend’s arm lightly. ‘Early days . . .’
At that moment, Mrs Axford popped her head round the bedroom door. ‘Just checking, girls. Your parents all know you’re here don’t they?’
Cat, Izzie, TJ, Nesta and Lucy nodded. I sort of grunted. Actually, I hadn’t told Mum. She wouldn’t be back from Plymouth until after nine, so she wouldn’t know that I wasn’t tucked up in my room. And anyway, I didn’t care what she thought. She hadn’t even noticed that I’d been gone this morning, and last night when I’d wanted to talk, she’d told me to go to my room. Why should I tell her what I was doing?
‘What about you, Becca?’ asked Nesta after Mrs Axford had shut the door. ‘What’s your situation? Is it lurve with Lal?’
‘Er . . .’
‘Leave her,’ said Lucy, coming to my rescue. ‘You don’t have to say Becca. Nesta is our token big-mouthed nosy git.’
‘Hey,’ said Nesta. ‘I was just asking. Taking an interest.’
‘I don’t mind, Nesta,’ I said. Now that I’d got to know them, I wanted to talk. And it sounded like Izzie had been through something similar with her parents splitting up. ‘So. First question: my situation . . .?’
And I was off. Once I started telling them what was going on, I couldn’t stop. I told them all about Prague. And about the rows. And about not wanting to go home. About worrying where my dad was going to end up and me not seeing him any more. At one point, I felt close to tears and Cat and Lia immediately came to sit next to me and put their arms around me.
And then the pizzas arrived (only from downstairs – made by Meena, the Axfords’ housekeeper). They were utterly scrummy – cheese, tomato and chorizo. After those, we had three tubs of chocolate chip fudge ice cream between us. As we tucked in, I thought that I hadn’t felt so happy in ages. The girls made me feel like it was normal to be going through such a major crisis. I felt accepted, and understood.
‘It sounds like you’re close to your dad,’ said TJ, ‘so it must be really hard for you. Recently when my dad was ill and I thought he might even die, I was freaked out of my mind. I didn’t know what to do with myself. My mates really helped. They can see you through the hard times.’
‘Yeah,’ said Izzie, indicating Nesta, Lucy and TJ, ‘this lot have seen me through loads of bad times. And good.’
‘Me too,’ said Nesta as she draped herself Cleopatra-style over the bed and held her arm over her forehead à la tragic heroine. ‘Although most of my bad times have been over boys.’
‘I wish you’d told us what was happening,’ said Cat, looking at me. ‘I feel bad that you tried to handle it all by yourself.’
‘Yeah,’ said Lia. ‘I hate to think that you’ve been unhappy.’
‘I understand why she
didn’t let on,’ said Lucy. ‘Sometimes when you’re in the middle of a freaky time, it can be hard to say what you’re feeling without it coming out all wrong.’
Yeah,’ said TJ. ‘I do the classic thing of hiding it all away and have to be reminded that mates don’t mind that you’re not feeling up all the time.’
‘I knew something was wrong,’ said Cat. ‘But I didn’t want to push you.’
‘Me too,’ said Lia. ‘I was really worried about you.’
‘Friends listen to what you say,’ said TJ. ‘Best friends listen to what you don’t say. It sounds like your mates were listening to what you didn’t say, Becca.’
‘I know and I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I just thought you might not understand, because, well, Lia, your mum and dad are so happy and Cat, your dad is about to get married. I thought . . . I don’t know what I thought . . . maybe that I was the only person going through this and . . . I didn’t want to lay it all on you and be a killjoy . . . just as the summer hols were starting and everyone was in such a top mood.’
Lia got up and joined us on the bed. ‘We’d have understood, Becca. You must always, always feel like you can come to us – no matter what.’
Cat came and sat with her. ‘Yeah, and like TJ said, not just when you’re up and fun. We love you for better or worse . . .’
‘For richer or poorer,’ said Cat then put on a silly posh voice, ‘til death do us part. Aaamen.’
I nodded. I felt a bit stupid. I should have known that Cat and Lia would be there for me.
Nesta grabbed a pillow from the head of the bed. ‘There is clearly only one way to get that message into her thick skull,’ she said.
Lia nodded and also grabbed a pillow.
‘Yay! Pillow fight!’ said Lucy and leapt up to grab a cushion. ‘And I am pillow-fighting champion.’
For the next ten minutes we had a great pillow-bashing session and when we collapsed on the floor afterwards, I felt like I’d known these London girls for ever. They were so easy to be with.
It was a great sleepover. After the fight, Lia went downstairs for chocolate and Liquorice Allsorts and when she came back, she passed them round and then got out her beauty box so that we could do our nails.
Love Lottery Page 7