Blondetourage

by Allison Rushby

  So, we keep on with our lesson. We order chips and mayonnaise and wurst and fish on a stick (don't ask). We then head back to the café and order schwarzwälderkirschtorte (black forest cherry cake). We order it with cream, we order it with ice-cream, we send it back to the kitchen because there's a dirty long black hair in it as well as half a cockroach (I can't help showing off a bit). We order it with coffee, we order it with tea, we order it with hot chocolate. We order it with a side of medium-rare steak, just to be obnoxious. About halfway through, Ashleigh gives up on our puerile shenanigans with a bored sigh and pulls out a magazine and starts reading about what her celebrity buddies are up to this week.

  Eventually, we run out of things to order. And we've been sitting, staring at each other for about fifteen minutes, all jittery and fiddly, when the door opens.

  All five of us jump so high we almost hit the ceiling. Even Ashleigh, with her 'I couldn't care less' flip, flip, flip of her magazine pages.

  It's Melinda. 'Okay, guys,' she says. 'Everyone's been asked to congregate in the kitchen.'

  Dum, dum, dum-dum, dum, dum-dum, dum-dum, dum-dum. The solemn notes of a death march start playing in my head.

  Splitsville?!

  With nervous looks at each other, we all get up and follow Melinda through the house's curiouser and curiouser rooms until we get to the kitchen. Everyone's already in there – Romy, Anouschka, all the crew, JJ – even Fluffy is hiding out by the pantry. On the other side of the kitchen bench to me, I try to read JJ's expression, but she just gives me a 'this is serious, try not to do anything wacky today, you did leave your gorilla suit back at Nan and Pop's, didn't you?' look.

  Everyone rustles and coughs and shuffles in the silence as Ashleigh's mom stands up on a chair so she can see everyone properly before she starts talking. I try to listen to her words as they start to tumble from her heavily lipsticked mouth, but I can't hear her because the thoughts in my head drown her out. I'm thinking. Thinking how I can't believe my lovely little almost-normal student life is already over. In less than a fortnight! I could have had such a good time with all of these people, especially George. And, er, Rhys. Maybe. And Toby's always good for a laugh. And Melinda's so nice. The best tutor I've ever had. And Ashleigh's ... bearable. At times. Almost. If you just take her for the joke that she is. And JJ seemed so happy. I think she actually liked this job, which is more than I can say for the one in Tokyo. And the job in Vienna was a bit all or nothing – eight course degustation menus or steamed vegetables. She's been getting to do more of 'her' kind of cooking here, for a younger crowd. The travel, with all the moving around, has been a bit hard going, but I'm sure I would have got used to it and ...

  Hold that thought.

  'What?' I hiss crankily at George, who's busy nudging me in the side with her elbow. I look over at her and don't get it. She's grinning. Grinning from ear to ear. When she spies the look on my face she gets a quizzical look on her own.

  'Have you been listening to any of this?' she whispers at me.

  I don't answer her, my eyes immediately darting to the front of the room and my ears finding it now surprisingly easy to understand Ashleigh's mom.

  'So this is how it's going to work, people,' she continues. 'We'll skip the upcoming scheduled holidays and start next season's filming early. This will give the girls time to take a longer vacation about six months from now, which will mean they'll then be able to go off and pursue the other interests that have come up. Romy will have time to fit a twelve-week perfumery course in and Anouschka will have time to film the first series of her new makeover show. And that's that. Any questions?' She looks around the room slowly. I want to raise my hand and ask if JJ's been fired, but know better than to attract any attention today. 'Great!' Ashleigh's mom nods at us. 'The girls will be taking a couple days off for a bit of a rest, to make sure Romy's okay, and then we'll be right back into things on Wednesday. It's going to be a busy couple of months wrapping up this series, but it'll be worth it for those extended vacations. Keep focused, and any problems ... I'm always here.' And, with this, she's back on the floor and chatting to the crew.

  The noise level is instantly deafening, as everyone turns to the person next to them with something to say. For me, that person is George. 'Can you believe it?' she grabs both my arms and turns me around to face her. 'I thought it was all over! I mean, we all did, didn't we? That must have been some meeting in there today.'

  All I can do is nod silently.

  George's face moves in to look into my eyes. 'Are you alive in there?'

  I nod again.

  'It's shock,' George says. 'And no wonder. You thought JJ was a goner, didn't you?'

  I nod for a third time and try to snap myself out of my daze. 'That was ...' I can't even find the right word.

  'Intense?' George tries.

  I go to nod once more, but then force myself into talking. 'Just slightly.'

  I remember JJ then and crane my neck to see her – she's talking to a couple of crew members over in one corner. But she spots me looking for her and gives me a sly grin and a thumbs up. Ugh. She knew all along things were going to turn out fine, the big meanie.

  Then there's another dig in my ribs. 'George!' I whip back around. 'Will you quit it with that? Oh ...' I see what she's on about. Or, rather, who. 'Hi, Romy!' I say to the person who's now standing in front of me. 'How's your head?' Romy laughs and gingerly raises a hand to the back of her head, all the time balancing on her crutches. 'Who knew shopping could be so dangerous?'

  'So you're okay?' I frown.

  'I'm fine, thanks. But the few days off will be good right about now. Pity we'll be staying here,' she takes a quick glance around her. 'I feel like someone's going to come at me with a knife all the time.'

  'Me too!' I can't help saying way too loudly, making a whole bunch of people look over. 'Oops, sorry.'

  Romy laughs again. 'Look, I just wanted to say thank you. I've signed up for the course I liked the best. The one in Grasse, in France.'

  'That one did look the best,' I agree.

  'It looks fantastic. And I can't wait. So, yes, thank you, Elli. I really mean that.'

  I try not to blush. 'That's okay,' I look away, embarrassed, but Romy reaches out to touch my shoulder, dragging my attention back to her.

  'No, really. I mean it. It might not seem like a lot, but I think up until now I've been doing a lot of things just to show my family that even though they might not think very highly of what I do, the public thinks it's pretty good. But this ... this is for me. I want to show myself what I'm capable of. Does that make any sense?' she frowns slightly.

  No one should look that good frowning. Really, they shouldn't. 'I think it makes perfect sense,' I tell her. 'And I think you'll be amazing at it.'

  'Thanks. I hope so,' she says in return. 'I hope you haven't got into too much trouble over all of this.'

  'Um ... no ...' I say slowly and there's a muffled exclamation from George.

  'Ah, I take it there's been a little bit of trouble, then.'

  I just wave my hand, though. 'It's all blown over now.'

  Even, hopefully, Geography. Though things going so right for Romy definitely makes me want to work harder. I can't let my grades slip or I won't get into uni to study vet science. Plus, I have to set Romy a good example and use my talents, don't I?! I'll just have to make sure I put in a bit of extra work and, with Melinda's help, I'm sure I'll catch up on the subjects I'm behind in in no time. That bit of extra effort in Geography already seems to have gone quite a long way.

  George and I spend a few minutes chatting to Romy and we're just winding things up when someone else strides on over. Someone I've been trying to push to the back of my mind because I was so sure JJ and I would be leaving the country any minute. You guessed it – Anouschka. I'm confused just looking at her and a whole bunch of words exit my mouth before they run through my brain-to-mouth filter (I can only dream of having one of those ...).

  'You're not going to fi
re JJ are you?'

  Romy, George and Anouschka all look at me like I'm mad and there's a short silence.

  'And why would I want to fire JJ?' Anouschka asks me levelly.

  'Um, er, I ...' I start.

  'JJ's the best chef we've ever had,' Romy pipes up. 'By far.'

  Anouschka seconds this with a curt dip of her head. 'We seem to be eating twice as much and not gaining an ounce. JJ isn't going anywhere. That much, I'll make sure of. How does she do it?'

  I gulp. Anouschka isn't the kind of person that you brush off. She's the kind of person who demands answers. 'Um, it's kind of a secret. But she adds a lot of extra ingredients, protein and vitamins and things. So you feel full, have more energy and don't eat as much, even though it feels like you're eating more.'

  'Well, whatever it is, it works.' Anouschka seems happy with this. 'Are you talking about your course?' Her attention turns to Romy. 'You know, I can't believe I never thought of something like that for you. I've known you since we were what? Four?' She pauses long enough for Romy to agree with her. 'I guess your sense of smell just became normal for me. It seems so obvious now ...'

  I watch in silence as the two girls, obviously old friends, good friends, best friends, chat amicably. And it's this that gets me. There's something not right here. Anouschka may be brusque, but she definitely warms when she's talking to Romy. Hmmm. She's so hard to read. Where Anouschka is concerned, nothing has ever added up for me. I stare at her as she keeps talking. I stare harder and harder and harder, trying to figure her out.

  'Is something wrong?' Anouschka stops talking abruptly and her eyes flick to meet mine.

  I try hard not to say anything, I honestly do, but I can't help it. I have to know. 'I don't get it. That first day. When I met you in the kitchen in New York ...'

  'Oh, yes. I remember that,' Anouschka glances at Romy. 'That was during "getting into character" week.' She looks back at both George and me now. 'Romy and I always spend a whole week getting into our characters by assuming them every minute of the day. It's easy to forget how you're "supposed" to be over the break, you see. But, what about that day?'

  'Ah, er, nothing. It's not important,' I say. But the truth is it's far from 'nothing'. The truth is I'm now more confused than ever. What is going on here? Anouschka obviously isn't the horrible piece of work she's made out to be and ... my train of thought is broken as Anouschka continues, yawning a huge yawn.

  'Ugh. I've been up half the night beating myself up for wearing those wedge shoes yesterday.'

  'Don't be silly,' Romy tells her.

  'No, it was stupid of me. We both know I've got terribly weak ankles. Remember, you told me that morning those shoes weren't a good idea. I thought if I was going to hurt anyone, though, it would be myself. Not you.'

  Romy gasps. 'Imagine if we'd both ended up breaking bones!'

  Anouschka is amused. 'You know, that's not a bad idea. Maybe we could use that?'

  'But you'd be in a cast!' Romy's mouth drops open.

  'It'd be good,' Anouschka's eyes get a glimmer in them. 'Did you know, just before the accident yesterday, I was about to do something to you?'

  'Oh, yes,' Romy's mouth twists. 'And what would that be?'

  Anouschka laughs evilly and quickly glances at George and myself, including us in her treachery. 'I was going to get the girls at the shop to hold you down while I glue-gunned your cast with silver sequins. Completely. The entire thing.'

  'No ...' Romy gives her a bestie shove. 'You know I'm allergic to sequins!'

  Anouschka gives George and me another look. 'Romy hates anything gaudy.'

  'So that's why you asked me to go and enquire about silver sequins,' Romy shakes her head. 'I was wondering about that.'

  Inside my sneakers, my toes curl in embarrassment. So that's what that evil look on Anouschka's face had been for. She wasn't planning to trip Romy up, she was planning to sequin her up. Suddenly, so much of what's been going on around here lately makes sense. Especially where Anouschka's concerned. Sure, she's a woman of few words. And she's usually pretty gruff and always no-nonsense, but I'm so not believing she pushed Romy down the stairs that day. And the bead thing was obviously ... well, nothing. Just looking at her, you can tell how much she cares about Romy like a proper friend. Like a best friend. All this has been about me. About me believing the hype – believing that Anouschka is the same as her TV character. And how could I have been so stupid as to do that when I'd gotten to know Romy and realised she was nothing like her character at all? How could I have thought ...

  I spot something then, out of the corner of my eye. Something sidling towards us, trying to eavesdrop. Or should I say, someone and slithering. Like the snake that she is.

  As I see her coming towards me, the fog of misunderstanding lifts from around me.

  How could I have been so stupid?

  Huh. I guess here's my answer headed towards me, dressed from top to toe in designer white, blonde hair flowing, trying to look like an angel, but being nothing remotely like one.

  Ashleigh.

  Oh, yes. And where things seemed confused and muddled a minute ago, they now seem as clear as the day is outside.

  As we'd heard only minutes ago, it's only Ashleigh's mom who'll be going to work with Anouschka on the makeover show. So maybe that's what Ashleigh's little plan was – end Rich Girls in order to ditch us and help push Anouschka's show full steam ahead. After all, she had no idea doing both was a possibility. Like us, she probably thought it was all or nothing – one show or the other. And she was going to make sure that one show was Anouschka's own.

  I feel every cell in my body pull back in disgust as she gets closer, kind of hovering beside Anouschka. Anouschka glances over at her when she feels her icky presence, but doesn't smile or nod, or say anything. Instead, her eyes skate back over the rest of the group.

  'You have quite the eye for putting together an outfit,' she finally says, breaking the silence.

  Ashleigh steps forward now. 'Oh, I got it at this darling little boutique off Melrose. Just gorgeous. I'll take you if you like and we can ...'

  'You didn't used to dress like this, did you?' Anouschka continues, turning her shoulder to Ashleigh and it becomes immediately obvious she was never talking to her all along, but was talking about George.

  Ouch.

  George's eyes widen. 'You like my outfit?'

  Anouschka gives her another once-over. 'What's not to like? Vintage is hot. Especially if you know what to look for. And you obviously do.'

  In the background, Ashleigh's face turns thunderous and a nasty shade of grey.

  'But ...' George looks completely confused. 'I thought you hated my clothes! That you thought they were trashy and stank of mothballs?'

  Anouschka looks equally confused. 'Why would you think that? I've noticed you before. You've got a great eye. I'm not really into vintage, so I'll have to get some shop names off you for my new show.'

  'I don't understand ...' George starts again, looking more confused than ever. But then she spots something, out of the corner of her eye. That someone slithering away from us this time, still like the snake that she is.

  The look on her face changes with that and I watch as the fog of misunderstanding lifts from around her.

  How could she have been so stupid?

  I guess there's her answer, headed away from her, dressed from top to toe in designer white, blonde hair flowing, trying to look like an angel, but being nothing remotely like one.

  Ashleigh. Again.

  Oh, yes. And where things seemed confused and muddled a minute ago, they now seem as clear as the day is outside.

  And then some.

  Both George's jaw and mine harden as we watch Ashleigh exit the room, using those snakelike senses of hers to know just the right moment to slink away from danger. I'd tried to give her the benefit of the doubt. Tried to think that she couldn't be pure evil. Tried to understand her. What a waste of time. It seems she's been up to all kinds of trick
s ever since JJ and I appeared on the scene and for a long time before, too. My mind flits back over the past couple of weeks. I bet it was her that day, in Paris – I bet it was her who let Fluffy out, but blamed it on Anouschka. And no wonder the paparazzi knew where Romy and I were going to be – Ashleigh told them! But how did she know what we were doing? Oh ... she asked for my password to my computer and I gave it to her! How dumb was I? But wait, I changed it, remember? Oh, um, yes. To 'Fluffy'. Probably the most obvious thing I could have chosen. Then of course there's all the lies she spread about Anouschka 'helping' Romy to break her foot and Romy desperately wanting to quit the show, and I'm sure Rhys and I getting along so well didn't make her warm to me any, either.

  As I watch the arch that Ashleigh has just disappeared through, there's a second where I want to go and chase her – hunt her down and lay poisonous snake bait pellets of tales that will make sure she never enters the house again. In other words, tell Romy and Anouschka everything that has gone on. But then I hear something – George laughing at something Romy has said, Anouschka and Romy joking with each other, and then I spot Toby and Rhys heading on over to see where the fun is at. And instead of worrying about Ashleigh, I'm drawn back to the group. My group. To my friends. And as I turn back to them and look at each one – George with her amazing outfit, Romy with her happy face, Anouschka with her (still kind of scary, but I'm sure I'll get used to it) impeccable grooming and staccato words and the boys being ... well ... the boys – I dismiss unworthwhile Ashleigh from my thoughts. Surprisingly, for someone who's occupied so many of my thoughts recently, she's easily dismissible. What a waste that she's taken up so much of my time (no, our time) already. Because who knows how long we've got? In this crazy business, we have to make the most of every second. And that's exactly what I'm going to do.