An hour later Harry and I are collapsed in the corner of the shop, while the pile of stuff Amber and Mum have picked out grows higher and higher. Baby bottles, monitors, changing mats, sterilisers, baby baths, clothes in neutral colours, bedding, even something called a wipe-warmer. Who knew that such tiny people needed so much?
All I can think about is the fun Millie and Isabella are probably having somewhere. Without me.
Amber’s asked Harry and my opinion on everything little thing. And really, it’s sweet that she cares, but we have nothing useful to offer. We know nada about babies, or baby things.
I get up and, out of sheer boredom, wander over to the prams. Yeowch. Prams are seriously expensive!
“Can I help you, madam?” a slimy-looking male assistant comes over. “When are you due?”
“What?” I splutter as Harry starts giggling. “It’s not for me. It’s for my sister.”
The sales assistant raises an eyebrow dubiously, and I vow never to wear this outfit ever again if it makes me look flipping pregnant. How blimmin’ rude!
I sit down again and refuse to look anyone in the eye, busying myself fiddling with my phone. I try Danny’s number again, but surprise surprise, there’s no answer.
I’m starting to think he’s avoiding me.
The shop doesn’t only sell baby stuff, it sells children’s clothes too, and Harry’s wandered off and started browsing. She emerges with a denim skirt.
“Um, what do you think of this?” she asks me, a little sheepishly.
What’s she picking up that for? Harry’s the biggest tomboy on the planet. I didn’t think she even knew what a skirt was.
“What are you getting a skirt for?”
“No reason,” Harry says, but her cheeks are flaming. “I, um… just like it, that’s all. I’d like to wear it at the talent show. I’m going to add it to the pile of stuff on the counter. Mum’ll never notice.”
Half an hour later, we’re all struggling out of the shop, laden down under the weight of tons of bags.
Dad is going to flip when he sees them. Mum and Amber got totally carried away, and we haven’t even got it all with us – Mum’s arranged to have half of it posted on. As she tries to force bags into the boot, she turns and eyeballs us fiercely.
“Nobody say a word to your father about this, you understand?” she instructs. “I’m going to have to hide all this stuff somewhere in the caravan to get it back home.”
“What’s it worth?” Harry says, never one to miss an opportunity. “There’s that magic set I’ve been wanting for ages, and a toy shop over there…”
“That’s blackmail, young lady,” Mum says. “And we’ve spent more than enough money today.”
“Okay then,” Harry says, shrugging. “Although I can’t promise something won’t slip out when Dad asks what we’ve been up to today.”
Mum extracts her purse from her handbag, passing Harry twenty pounds. “I suppose I can’t really treat Amber without getting things for the rest of you too,” she says. “Off you go. But make sure you come straight back, okay?”
“Brilliant! Thanks, Mum, you’re the best,” Harry says, dashing off towards the toy shop.
“Dad’s going to go nuts when he sees this,” I say. “There’s no way you’re going to be able to hide it from him.”
“Shhh,” Mum says. “Of course we’ll be able to. We’ll tell him… someone gave it to us. Or something. It’ll be fine. Now help put this into the boot, would you, please?”
And then I see it. Hanging on a nearby market stall.
A Mulberry bag. It’s beautiful.
I wonder how much it is? I know they’re dead expensive.
I go for a closer look, and do a double take at the price tag. Far from being the hundreds of pounds I expected, it’s actually pretty reasonable. Because it’s not actually a Mulberry bag at all. Although you’d never know unless you looked really, really closely.
Oh. I love it. I love it, I love it.
And nobody would know it’s not an authentic one. It looks exactly the same.
I disappear off into a wonderful daydream where everything’s different with the bag. I’m glossy, I’m groomed, I’m swishing around in a confident swirl. Everything about me would be better if I had that bag. I’m sure of it.
“You buying that, love?” says the market trader.
“Um… let me go and talk to my mum a minute,” I say, running back to the car.
Harry’s sprawled across the back seat, pulling apart her magic set with glee.
“Mum, you know how Amber got all this baby stuff, and Harry’s got her magic kit?”
“Hmm,” Mum says distractedly, still wrestling with all the baby clothes.
“Could I get a bag?”
“Well, I can’t get something for both of your sisters and not for you,” Mum says. She opens her purse again, and passes me another twenty.
“Uh, it’s a bit more than that,” I say.
“I haven’t got any more,” Mum says.
“Please?” I beg. “Please, please, pretty please with a cherry on the top? It’s not much more, and you can give it to me as part of my birthday present if you like?”
“It’s not your birthday for months,” Mum says.
“I know,” I say, “but I really love it. Please? Please, please, please…”
“Oh, all right,” Mum says wearily. She passes a pack of nappies to Harry. “Try to fit these somewhere while I nip to the cashpoint, would you?”
“Thanks, Mum, you’re the best!” I say, bouncing up and down, then giving her a big one-armed hug.
“Hi.” Mum waves, seeing Clare walking towards us. “Did you manage to track down Martin?”
“No,” Clare says vaguely. “He was in a meeting. Crikey, you’ve been busy, haven’t you?”
“All essentials,” Mum says. “I’m just popping to the cashpoint. Keep an eye on this lot until I get back, would you?”
As soon as Mum returns with the cash, I head over to the market stall and buy my bag. The trader puts it into a carrier bag for me and I grin broadly at him.
I know it’s just a bag. I know it’s not going to change anything dramatically. But everything feels that bit better and a touch more sparkly with my almost-Mulberry packed up and ready to go.
I’m swinging my carrier bag happily when I spot Millie and Isabella emerging from one of the little side alleys. Their arms are linked, and their heads are close together as they chat away non-stop.
My happiness disappears in a flash.
They look more and more like best friends every day.
And check out the bags Isabella’s carrying. She’s given her credit cards a serious workout. And they’re not the cheapy plastic carrier bags she’s got, either. They’re the proper ones, made of cardboard, with ribbons for handles. Designer bags, from expensive shops.
Millie’s got one too, a funky turquoise one with hot pink ribbons. How did she get the money to shop there?
All of a sudden I feel cheap and silly, with my plastic bag full of fake Mulberry from the market.
“Hi!” Millie says, running over.
“Hi,” I say, forcing a smile.
“How did you get on at the baby shop?” Millie asks. Without waiting for my answer, she continues, “Isabella and I had such a great time. She spent so much money, it was insane. She’s brought us these amazing new matching outfits for the talent show.” Millie holds the shopping bag aloft, bubbling away. I can’t remember the last time I saw her so happy.
“It wasn’t a big deal,” Isabella says, dismissively. “This was nothing compared to how much I usually spend. The shops are rubbish here.”
“And you got something too,” Millie says. “What did you get?”
“Um, just a new bag,” I say, trying to hide it behind my back, but Millie grabs it and peers inside.
“Ooooh, a Mulberry,” she squeals. “It’s gorgeous.”
Isabella peers in. “Fake.”
“Well, yeah,�
� I say. “But you can hardly tell it’s not the real thing…”
“You really can’t,” Millie says, loyally.
“If you don’t know what the real thing looks like, maybe,” Isabella says. “But the stitching’s all wrong, and the clasp is different…”
I snatch the bag back.
Why does Isabella always have to do that? And why doesn’t Millie ever notice?
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
I’m dreading hanging out with the boys tonight.
I just don’t want to. I don’t want to get stuck with Joe again, although he’ll probably avoid coming anywhere near me, after last time. I don’t want to watch my best friend conveniently ignoring the fact she’s got a boyfriend. I don’t want to feel left out and miserable.
But Isabella’s not stopped going on about Tom. And Millie’s going where Isabella is. Which means I’m stuck.
As soon as supper’s finished, Millie and Isabella are racing out of the caravan to get changed. Then we’re traipsing across the field to where the bonfire’s burning. Ant’s waiting for Harry, and they immediately disappear off to his tent. If I didn’t know my tomboy sister better, I’d think something was going on with those two. Isabella nestles in close to Tom, while Millie finds a spare seat on the log next to Ben. There’s enough room for me, too, so I squeeze in next to her. Matt’s on my other side. That should be safe enough.
“Dad doesn’t know you’re here, so if you see him coming, make yourselves scarce, okay?” Ben says.
“Will do,” Isabella says, putting her hand onto Tom’s thigh.
“So, what have you guys been up to today?” Millie asks. “Was it the canoeing? How did it go?”
“Mind if we join you?”
We look up to see two girls standing at the edge of our circle. Gorgeous girls. Older girls. Ridiculously tall girls. One blonde, one brunette, with swishy hair, amazing figures and an easy confidence. Girls who wouldn’t have to pretend to be sixteen.
“Sure,” Matt says, the biggest grin in the world on his face.
Isabella’s expression is the polar opposite. She’s giving the girls the fiercest death stare I’ve ever seen in my life.
“I’m Jem,” the brunette says as they collapse down onto the logs. “And this is Cat.”
Isabella scoots possessively closer to Tom.
“When did you get here?” Matt asks.
“This afternoon,” Cat says. “With my parents. It’s dead round here, isn’t it? Thank God we found you.”
“You not got any parents with you?” Cat asks.
“Yeah, my dad’s around somewhere,” Ben says. “I think he’s in the entertainment tent or something.”
“Oh God, the entertainment, what’s that about?” Jem says. “It’s actually painful to listen to.”
“Keeps the olds out of the way, though,” Tom says, hefting another log onto the fire.
“So what are you lot doing here?” Cat asks. “Family holiday?”
“Adventure sports,” Matt replies. He’s clearly thinking his luck’s in.
“We’re going white-water rafting tomorrow,” Cat says. “You done that yet?”
“Not yet, we’re going tomorrow too. It’s Ben’s birthday.”
“Fantastic,” Cat replies, flashing Matt a flirty smile. “Maybe we’ll see you down at the centre.”
“So what else are you doing to celebrate your birthday?” Jem says, twisting a strand of hair around her finger and raising an eyebrow quizzically. “Something fun, I hope?”
“Erm, yeah, we were thinking about going to hang out at this cave we found out in the woods tomorrow night,” Matt says.
“You are?” Isabella says, looking put out. “You didn’t ask us.”
“Didn’t think you’d be able to come,” Tom says. “We’re going late. After Dave’s gone to bed. He’ll never let us, so we’re sneaking out.”
“Sounds fun,” Cat says. “We’d be up for that, wouldn’t we, Jem?”
“Absolutely,” Jem says.
“Us too,” Isabella says hurriedly. I stare in horror. My parents will kill us if we get caught. Like, properly dead and grounded for all eternity. And I don’t want to be grounded when I get home. Or dead. I want to see my boyfriend!
“What do you say, Millie?” Isabella asks.
“If you’re going, I’m going,” Millie says. “I don’t want to miss the fun. And you’ll come too, won’t you, Suze?”
“Sure,” I say weakly.
“Has anyone got any speakers?” Isabella asks. “We could rig the cave up like a club.”
“Couldn’t bring mine,” Tom says. “Not enough space. Had to leave them at home.”
“I’d kill to go to a club right now,” Isabella says.
Isabella’s actually been clubbing? I suppose she could easily pass for eighteen. Unless, of course, she’s lying.
“Where do you go out?” Ben asks.
“Places in Italy, mainly. That’s where I used to live,” Isabella says. She’s clearly relishing playing the sophisticated European card.
“There are some great places in London, you’ll love it when you get there,” Millie says, and I turn to her in astonishment.
What does Millie know about London nightclubs? Only what she’s read in magazines. Same as me. But no, she’s now chattering away with Isabella and Tom, talking like she’s a regular at half the places in London. She’s lying her head off!
“Is anyone up for a game of spin the bottle?” Jem suggests, smiling wolfishly.
My heart sinks into my shoes.
The boys laugh. “I am if you are,” Tom shrugs. “Isabella?”
Isabella quickly rearranges her features into something resembling a smile. She’s obviously realised that she can’t lose face in front of these girls. “Sure,” she says. “Sounds fun.”
No, no, no! I don’t want to play this game! Only Joe, who’s sitting opposite me, looks equally horrified. Oh God, what if I have to kiss him? Or anyone else, for that matter? How am I going to get out of this without looking like a complete baby and incurring the wrath of Isabella forevermore? I have a boyfriend! A boyfriend I came perilously close to blowing it with not that long ago, so I can’t go around kissing random boys.
I look over to Millie for help, wondering how we’re going to get out of this one, since we’re clearly the only ones who are attached. I’m stunned to see her grab a discarded bottle and place it down on the ground next to the fire.
“Who’s first?” she asks.
“Me,” Matt says. He spins the bottle and it lands on Joe.
“No offence, mate, but I’m not kissing you,” Matt says.
“Spin again,” Jem says.
Matt spins the bottle and I hold my breath as the bottle slows down… but it comes to a stop pointing at Cat.
Matt couldn’t look more chuffed if he tried. He crosses over to where Cat’s sitting, and they share a long, lingering kiss.
Oooh, this is horrible. This is proper making out!
Now it’s Cat’s turn. She spins the bottle and it lands on Tom. She stands in front of him for slightly longer than necessary. He’s sitting down, so he’s staring right up at her boobs, and something tells me she knows exactly what she’s doing. Then she reaches down to take his face in her hands and pulls his lips to hers.
Isabella looks ready to maim and kill.
“Tom, your turn!” she says shrilly.
Cat pulls away, smirking.
The bottle spins around again. It gets closer and closer to me, and once again I hold my breath. It wobbles its way past me… and lands on Isabella.
Isabella is thrilled, and doesn’t release Tom for ages, clearly trying her hardest to erase the kiss with Cat from his mind.
Then Isabella kisses Joe, but very quickly. Joe spins the bottle and it lands on Jem.
How much longer can I keep getting away with this? It’s going to be me soon. It’s got to be.
Jem kisses Ben, and then Ben gets Millie.
Oh God. She�
�s not… is she?
“Mills! You’re up!” hoots Tom as Ben grins at Millie.
I can’t watch this.
What am I supposed to say to Jamie when we get back? Do I tell him what Millie’s been up to? Or is Millie expecting me to lie to him? I thought she loved him. I thought she loved our group of mates and hanging out in Bojangles… but maybe I was wrong. All kinds of wrong. Maybe she wants to be like Isabella, wearing expensive clothes, kissing boys that she hardly knows, pretending to be sixteen, and lying about nightclubs she’s been to.
I can’t watch this. I just can’t.
I don’t care if it makes Isabella dislike me more than she already does, I’m not staying.
“I’m not feeling well. I’m going to go to bed,” I say.
Nobody pays attention as I stand up. I don’t think anyone’s even registered I’ve spoken, because they’re all watching Ben and Millie.
Ben reaches for Millie and leans in slowly, their lips getting closer and closer.
And that’s when I turn and leave.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
I’m heading over to brush my teeth the next morning when I hear footsteps slapping in the wet grass and then Millie’s alongside me.
“Hey! Where did you go last night? I looked up and you were gone.”
“Went to bed,” I say, shrugging like it’s no big deal.
When actually, it is a big deal.
A huge deal.
A deal so massive I want to grab Millie by the shoulders and scream, “WHY WERE YOU KISSING SOMEONE WHO ISN’T YOUR BOYFRIEND?”
But I don’t. I just keep on walking like everything’s normal.
“Isabella was not happy about Jem and Cat rocking up,” Millie says. “Jem was giving Tom the serious come-on after you left, so there’s no way Isabella’s not going to this party later. We’re waiting for the parents to go to sleep after the talent show, then we’re heading out. I can’t wait, can you?”
“I guess.”
“Oh, come on, live a little. We’re on holiday, Suze. We never do this kind of thing, so let’s enjoy ourselves.”
Suzy P and the Trouble with Three Page 16