by Mel Sparke
Sugar
SECRETS…
…& Mistakes
Mel Sparke
Contents
Cover
Title Page
CHAPTER 1 HAPPY BIRTHDAY
CHAPTER 2 CAT KEEPS QUIET
CHAPTER 3 CAT’S CHANGE OF PLAN
CHAPTER 4 CLEAR AS MUD
CHAPTER 5 JUST ME AND YOU (AND EVERYBODY ELSE)
CHAPTER 6 MATT MISSES THE POINT
CHAPTER 7 ON PLANET HOLLYWOOD
CHAPTER 8 WHO’S THAT GIRL?
CHAPTER 9 MATT GETS ZAPPED
CHAPTER 10 TROUBLE IN PARADISE
CHAPTER 11 WILL SHE? WON’T SHE?
CHAPTER 12 NIGGLES AND NEW STARTS
CHAPTER 13 NICK’S BIG IDEA
CHAPTER 14 TO BE BOTHERED, OR NOT TO BE BOTHERED…
CHAPTER 15 WHERE THERE’S A WILL…
CHAPTER 16 MIXED FEELINGS
CHAPTER 17 CRAZY LITTLE THING CALLED LOVE
CHAPTER 18 DAY TRIPPERS
CHAPTER 19 SEA, SAND AND SHOCKS
CHAPTER 20 GETTING THINGS STRAIGHT(ISH)
CHAPTER 21 SHOWDOWN
SOME SECRETS ARE JUST TOO GOOD TO KEEP TO YOURSELF!
ARE YOU A WORRIER?
SO, ARE YOU A WORRIER OR NOT?
Copyright
About the Publisher
CHAPTER 1
HAPPY BIRTHDAY
“What is it?”
“I don’t know,” Sonja Harvey answered, delicately probing the object that her friend Kerry Bellamy was staring at.
Kerry shuddered. “I don’t like the look of it, whatever it is…”
The boys all leant over for a good nosy.
“Oh, for goodness sake, stop poking at it,” drawled Cat, rolling her eyes at Anna, who was surveying the scene with a smirk. “It’s dead, whatever it is, so just eat it!”
Making her way back from the loos, Maya Joshi slipped between the tables of the nearly empty Indian restaurant and wondered why her friends were all huddled together over the candlelit table.
“What’s up?” she asked, gazing down at the array of food that had arrived in her absence.
Kerry was staring uncertainly at her plate, still wrinkling her freckled nose at what she saw there.
“Unidentified object in Kerry’s curry,” grinned Ollie, his soft brown hair flopping into his eyes as usual.
Maya peered at Kerry’s plate then gave a cursory look at everyone else’s.
“Kerry, you’ve got my prawn bhuna and I’ve got your vegetable korma,” she pronounced. “Here, swap. Though now I’ve seen it, I wish I’d gone for the vegetable korma too.”
“What, that thing’s a prawn?” gasped Matt, pointing at the sauce-covered object as the plate was lifted past his nose. “But it’s huge!”
“It’s a king prawn, you prat,” Maya teased him. “Don’t you get them in Pot Noodle?”
“I don’t eat Pot Noodle all the time,” he protested, pretending to be hurt. With his father constantly away on business or ensconced at the golf clubhouse, Matt Ryan led an almost home-alone lifestyle in their vast house, which involved paying minimal attention to a balanced diet. “I cook too!”
“Matt, you do not cook,” said Catrina, giving him a who-are-you-trying-to-kid? stare as she tore off a chunk of nan bread. “What you do is take a ready-meal out of the freezer and stuff it in the microwave. And you don’t even do that often, since you still haven’t worked out how to use it.”
“Oh, yeah!” Sonja chipped in excitedly. “Remember the time we went round and Matt was trying to make toast in the microwave?”
“Uh-huh.” nodded Cat. “And he was so lazy that he still ate it, even when he saw it hadn’t worked.”
“That’s right – instead of beans on toast, it was beans on hot, floppy bread!” shrieked Sonja.
“OK. OK!” Matt interrupted the giggles that had erupted around the table. “So I won’t be going on Masterchef any time soon…”
“And you won’t be eating what you ordered tonight either,” said Maya coolly.
“What?” asked Matt, flipping his gaze over the food in front of him.
“You ordered chicken biryani, right? Well, what you’ve got there is chicken tikka masala, which is what Joe ordered.” Maya pointed at his plate. “And Joe’s already eaten half of your biryani.”
Joe paused, a forkful of food lifted to his mouth. “Oh, Jeez, sorry, Matt!” he mumbled. “I forgot what I ordered!”
“you lot – what are you like?” Maya gazed round the table. “I leave you alone for a few minutes…”
“…and we’re lost without you!” Ollie finished the sentence for her, clutching his hands dramatically to his chest and gazing heavenward.
“Very funny, Ollie.” Maya raised her eyebrows at him. “But not as funny as the fact that you’ve just smeared curry on your suit.”
Ollie looked down at his clasped hands and the fork clutched between them, still laden with the food meant for his mouth – not his best clothes.
“Oh, Ollie, here,” flustered Kerry, dabbing a serviette in a glass of water and rubbing at the offending stain.
Sonja winced when she saw Ollie’s face – his thin-lapelled mod suit, an original from the ‘60s, was his pride and joy and only worn on special occasions.
“Listen, everyone,” said Sonja, suddenly rattling her freshly manicured nails against the glass in front of her to get their attention – and to take Ollie’s mind off what had happened. “Aren’t we forgetting something?”
She looked knowingly around at the others and, for a second, they looked blankly back.
“Ahhh,” muttered Ollie, the light suddenly dawning. He gave Sonja a nod. “C’mon, everybody: Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday to yooooooo, Happy Birthday, dear Kerry, Happy—”
Kerry clapped her hands over her face with embarrassment as her friends launched into a loud and reasonably tuneless version of the song – not that she had much cause to be embarrassed; being a quiet Tuesday night, the only people they were disturbing were a middle-aged couple in the window seat and the staff of the Kamil Tandoori restaurant.
“How does it feel to be seventeen then?” asked Matt, who at eighteen was nearly the oldest (Anna beat him by a couple of months) but certainly not the wisest of the friends.
“Um, fine,” shrugged Kerry, hoping the hot flush in her cheeks wasn’t too visible. “Much the same as yesterday. I guess.”
“But what about all that stuff you’re legally entitled to do now?” enthused Sonja. “You can, er… well, learn to drive! That’s about it, I think…”
“Maybe Matt will teach you,” Catrina suggested wickedly, knowing that her ex was as likely to let anyone loose at the wheel of his precious Golf as shy-boy Joe Gladwin was to stand up and do a striptease on the table.
“Well, I—” spluttered Matt, before he saw the Cheshire cat grin on Catrina’s face and knew he was being wound up.
“I want to propose a toast,” Ollie interjected. All heads swivelled his way. “To… Irene!”
“Irene?” squeaked Sonja, picturing – as they all did – the sprightly ex-dinner lady who helped out at the End-of-the-Line café. “What’s she got to do with anything?”
“It’s thanks to Irene helping out at the café tonight that we’re all here,” Ollie reasoned.
“That’s true,” nodded Anna. “If she hadn’t offered to give Nick a hand, either Ollie, Joe or me would have had to work this evening.”
Well, it would have been me, being honest, she admitted to herself. It was really sweet of Kerry to have invited her along tonight – her first proper night out by herself with the crowd. But, if it had come to the crunch, she would have worked, of course. Ollie, as Kerry�
�s boyfriend, and Joe, as one of her best mates, could hardly miss out on the celebrations.
“Exactly,” said Ollie, raising his glass. “So here’s to Irene!”
“To Irene!” the others all bellowed.
“And, of course, a toast to Kerry,” Ollie added in a softer voice, “for being seventeen, for being beautiful – and for being mine.”
A chorus of cheers and “aww”s rumbled round the table and even Cat, for once, kept her cynical comments to herself.
As Ollie leant over and kissed his moist-eyed girlfriend, Sonja gazed round at the rest of her friends and thought how brilliant it was to be together like this.
Who needs the hassle of boyfriends when you have good, solid mates like these? she thought, smiling a private, contented little smile. The fact that she had lately been burned by not one but two lads went a long way to colour her opinion (though she knew she’d got her comeuppance – she’d been two-timing them both). And she was also viewing the friendship of the crowd through slightly rose-tinted specs: although everything was fine now, over the past few months her cousin Catrina had certainly tested everyone’s patience and goodwill, to say the least.
And look at the way they’ve all got into the spirit of Kerry’s night out! Sonja enthused to herself, putting to the back of her mind the fact that only the day before Cat had moaned that going to a club would be much more fun than a meal in a restaurant (but then Cat always wanted an excuse to go out to a club).
She gazed round at them all: there was Ollie Stanton in his (curry-stained) suit, instead of his omnipresent combats; Maya Joshi looking effortlessly sleek and gorgeous in a slash-neck, three-quarter sleeved black top and baggy, black linen drawstring trousers; and Catrina Osgood in a low-cut, crochet cardie that showed ample amounts of bra (the waiter had struggled to keep his eyes on her face when he took her order) and a ruby red, A-line satin mini that matched the red streak she’d put through her dyed blonde hair for the night.
Matt Ryan looked handsome – but then it wasn’t hard for him – in a new designer T-shirt, the name of which Sonja didn’t recognise. But Matt would love that; being so ahead fashion-wise that only he and a handful of style mag editors knew what the next hip trend was. Joe Gladwin was wearing a new, loose-fitting white shirt and, with a summer’s worth of exposure, his brown hair had taken on the faintest of highlights.
Wow – our Joey’s almost turned into a bit of a looker! thought Sonja suddenly, gazing proudly at her friend’s lightly suntanned features. Who’d have thought!
It was the same with Kerry, Sonja realised. Kerry Bellamy had always been pretty – even though she could never see it herself – but after a summer of going out with Ollie, her confidence seemed to have grown in leaps and bounds. Tonight, wearing a long, rust-coloured hippy dress, and with her browny-red curls shiny and bouncing, she looked almost exactly like a shot Sonja had seen in OK of Minnie Driver arriving at some awards do or other.
I must tell her that later, Sonja thought, knowing that Kerry still found it hard to handle compliments, and would stumble and splutter a “No that’s not true!” if Sonja said it now in front of everyone.
“Kerry, this is for you…” said Anna, interrupting Sonja’s musings.
Sonja felt guilty for a second: Anna had turned up tonight in the old jeans and stripy T-shirt they’d all seen her wear around the café – she obviously hadn’t been told that everyone was getting dressed up. And Sonja knew that she was supposed to have let everyone know… Oops!
Anna smiled shyly and pushed a small, ribbon-wrapped parcel across the table towards the birthday girl.
“Oh, Anna! You didn’t have to! I mean—”
What Kerry meant was that Anna Michaels was still a relatively new addition to the crowd – she hadn’t had to buy a present; she didn’t know Kerry that well.
Feeling all eyes on her and the gift in her hands, Kerry’s fingers trembled a little as she fumbled to unravel the ribbon.
“Oh, it’s so pretty!” she gasped, holding up a necklace that was made of tiny, uneven chunks of semi-precious stones, strung together on black string.
“It’s called a chakra,” said Anna, looking pleased at Kerry’s reaction to her gift. “All the stones are meant to make you feel more centred. Like, you know, if you’ve got lots of thoughts racing around your head, it’s meant to make things a lot clearer.”
Kerry looked flustered all of a sudden and shot an unreadable, sideways glance at Ollie. Oblivious to Kerry’s consternation, Cat reached over and touched the small, polished stones as they dangled from her friend’s hand.
“Maybe I could do with one of these,” she mused.
Sonja and Matt both burst out laughing.
“What, you getting into New Age stuff, Cat?” snorted Sonja. “What’s next – yoga? Not in that skirt, girl!”
It was impossibly hard to do, but Cat bit her tongue. Her cousin and the others had no idea about the whirlwind of thoughts running around her head, or had any clue about what she’d been up to today.
God, she thought, crossing her fingers under the table, I hope I’m not about to make a really big mistake…
CHAPTER 2
CAT KEEPS QUIET
“If you want to wait a while, I’ll phone for a taxi.” Matt offered. “I’ll pay.”
“No thanks, Mr Moneybags. You don’t have to waste Daddy’s allowance on me,” trilled Cat, always quick to get a dig in at Matt and his cushioned lifestyle. “I’ll just keep Joey company. And I fancy a walk.”
She’s up to something, thought Sonja, gazing at her cousin through narrowed eyes as she kissed Kerry goodnight and waved at the others.
Years of growing up with Cat and watching her get in and out of scrapes was qualification enough for Sonja to suss out when trouble was brewing. And apart from that, when was Cat – who never wore anything on her feet less than three inches high – ever in the mood to walk anywhere?
But this is Kerry’s night, Sonja reasoned, so I’m not going to spoil it by saying anything. Cat can’t keep anything to herself for long, so we’ll find out soon enough what she’s up to…
“Well, tonight’s been great, Kerry – I’ve never actually had an Indian meal in an Indian restaurant before. I’ve only ever eaten it out of a foil tray when it’s been delivered,” admitted Matt, gazing round at the ornately papered walls and intricately decorated wall hangings of the restaurant.
“Really?” said Ollie in surprise, sitting up straight and pulling the small, wet towel off his face. While the girls had delicately wiped their fingers with the lemon-fragranced hot towels given to them by the waiter, Ollie had walloped his across his face with a groan of pleasure.
“You didn’t say that when we came in.” As often happened, Sonja was surprised that while Matt was one of the oldest and most ‘privileged’ (big house, posh boarding school, buckets of cash) of them all, he could be pretty naive too.
“Why give Cat more ammunition to have a go at me!” Matt shrugged good-naturedly.
“But you two love sniping at each other!” laughed Sonja.
“Oh, I don’t think Matt loves it, do you, Matt? You’ve just got used to answering her back, haven’t you?” Maya said intuitively.
“She always starts it. All I do is try and give back as good as I get.”
“What is it – a bit of self-protection, then?” asked Anna, whose favourite hobby was working out what was going on inside people’s heads. But she hadn’t had anyone to practise her amateur psychology on since she’d moved to Winstead, until she’d started to hang out with Ollie and his friends.
“Whoa! It’s like sitting in between Ricki Lake and Oprah here!” Matt laughed, holding up his hands.
“Yes, but you haven’t got as hard a shell as you pretend, have you, Matt?” smiled Maya.
“Me? I’m tough as anything!” he jokingly boasted, holding his arms out and flexing his muscles theatrically.
Maya reached over and tickled his armpit, and Matt crumpled up laughing.
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br /> “Hey, you know who you sounded like there!” said Ollie, reaching down into Kerry’s bag.
“Furby!” the girls all squealed as Ollie placed the black and white furry toy – Matt’s present to Kerry – on the table. He tickled its tummy and the creature burst into a mechanical rattle of giggles.
Looking over at Matt’s grinning face, Sonja felt guilty at joining in with her cousin’s teasing of him earlier in the evening. She was so used to Catrina and Matt’s constant bickering that it hadn’t really occurred to her that it might sometimes get a bit wearing for him.
So he’s cocky and overconfident a lot of the time, but he’s so sweet and kind too, she said to herself, thinking specifically of the goofy but perfect gift he’d chosen for Kerry. “I just saw it and thought it looked like Barney!” he’d explained when she unwrapped it. It was true – the fluffy toy did look like Kerry’s lovable, daft dog.
In fact. Matt’s a bit like Kyle and Owen rolled into one… Sonja mused. Before her latest attempt at romance had fallen flat on its face, she’d been torn between Kyle’s fun-loving but full-on character and Owen, Anna’s sensitive and adorable brother. Neither of the relationships had come to anything; Owen had landed a job a long way away, while Kyle had shown his true colours by seeing someone else behind Sonja’s back. Not that Sonja could complain about that, since she was guilty of doing exactly the same thing.
Yep. Sonja decided, Matt certainly has Kyle’s swagger and humour, but at least he’s more reliable. And he’s as handsome and can be as gentle as Owen, but doesn’t live ten trillion miles away…
Catching herself having these strange and unprecedented thoughts about her friend, Sonja experienced something that rarely happened to her – she blushed to the roots of her honey-blonde hair.
“Did you know that if you injected the nicotine content of just one cigarette directly into a vein it would kill you?”
“That can’t be true!”
“Oh, yes it is,” nodded Joe seriously, wafting the smoke from Cat’s cigarette away from his face. “That’s why when you smoke, you’re actually poisoning yourself.”