Around six o’clock, Izzie turned up from her rehearsal and Lucy’s mum said we could all stay and have supper if we didn’t mind eating on our knees in front of the TV.
‘I can’t be bothered doing a big number at the table,’ she said.
She’s so cool is Mrs Lovering, really laid-back and easy.
I love being at their house. All of them have made me feel like one of the family ever since I arrived in London. However when it came to eating there, I wasn’t so sure. They eat some very weird stuff at the Loverings’. Even Lucy would agree. Her dad runs the local health food shop and sells all the health foods that Izzie is into but I’ve never heard of.
After half an hour or so, Mrs Lovering brought through plates of food.
‘Mmm, smells good,’ said Izzie.
‘What is it?’ I asked.
‘Quinoa, steamed vegetables and soya sauce,’ said Mrs Lovering. ‘And to make it a bit more interesting, I’ve chopped in some nori.’
Lucy and I exchanged looks.
‘Mmm, my favourite,’ I said as Lucy and I both burst out laughing. She knew I hadn’t got a clue what quinoa or nori were.
Izzie raised her eyes to heaven. ‘Nori is seaweed. And quinoa is like a grain. It’s really good for you.’
I took a forkful and put it in my mouth as I do believe in trying everything once. It tasted like rice mixed with freshly mown grass and lemon. ‘Yeah. Suppose it’s OK.’
‘Yeah,’ said Lucy, chewing a bit of hers then going into her best Shakespearian actor luvvie voice. ‘But ohhh how I lonnngggg for egg and chips and beeeeans some niiiights.’
‘How was rehearsal?’ I asked Izzie after we’d finished our Strange But Healthy Meal.
‘Tough,’ she said. ‘But fun. They’re well pleased that I’m going to sing. At first I was soooo nervous, but then we went over and over it to the point where I just wanted to get it right and stopped thinking about my knocking knees.’
‘What are you going to wear?’ asked Lucy.
‘Ah. Not sure. I had thought maybe my velvet . . .’
‘Where’s the gig?’ I interrupted.
‘Somewhere in Kentish Town.’
‘Then not your velvet. It’s too “nice girl who fives in Hampstead”,’ I said. ‘You need to look dangerous, like you’ve got an edge.’
‘That’s exactly what Ben said,’ said Izzie. ‘In fact, he’s working at this place his cousin owns in Camden Lock, just for the hols, to get some dosh so we can hire a studio to do a demo tape. He says he thinks I should go down there and have a look before deciding on anything.’
‘If Ben’s a Buddhist, he might kit you out in Eastern robes,’ I said.
‘Nah. He says this shop is mega, like nothing he’s ever seen before.’
‘When shall we all go?’ said Lucy. ‘Next week?’
‘Yeah,’ said Izzie. ‘Brillopad. And you’ll come to the gig as well, won’t you? To see me sing?’
‘Wouldn’t miss it for the world,’ said Lucy. ‘But how are things with you and Ben apart from the singing?’
Izzie grinned. ‘Most excellent. He’s so cool and – oh, he says that there are some people coming to check out the band from a record agency. We need as many people there in the audience as possible, so it looks like the band’s really popular.’
‘I’ll bring Simon and the Princesses,’ I said. ‘It’s about time they came up to our neck of the woods.’
Chapter 9
‘Nesta! You look totally amazing,’ said Tanya as she opened the door to their house in Holland Park. ‘Where did you get that fab gear?’
‘Oh, a little designer I know in North London,’ I said casually as I stepped into a vast marble hallway.
Lucy is little. In fact, she’s only four foot eight.
I knew I looked good. I’d spent ages getting ready as I’d decided to show Simon exactly how I could look if I tried. He’d only ever seen me in my scruffs. This time, I’d washed and conditioned my hair in camomile rinse so it looked really silky. Then I’d painted my nails with Mum’s Chanel Rouge Noir. After that, I’d put on some Mac kohl and Bobbi Brown lipstick and a little blusher. Then on with my Lucy Lovering designer extraordinaire outfit – that is, the blouse and jacket were from Lucy but I wore them with a ra-ra skirt, not jodhpurs, as we weren’t riding. I got the skirt at Christmas from Morgan; it’s made of a bronze swishy material that flares out in a little frill just above my knees. Looked great with the blouse. And to complete it all, I’d borrowed a pair of Mum’s sexy Jimmy Choos.
‘I wish I could wear shoes like that,’ said Tanya, ‘but they kill my feet. You walk in them so easily.’
‘Just takes practice,’ I said. Hah! If only she’d seen me round the corner a few minutes ago. I’d worn my Nikes most of the way and changed into the killer heels at the last minute so I wouldn’t have to walk far.
‘Simon’s in the library,’ said Tanya.‘Come through.’
‘With Miss Scarlet and the rope?’ I joked as I took in the luxurious surroundings, but Tanya looked blank.
‘Cluedo,’ I explained. ‘Have you never played it? Who did the murder? Professor Plum in the hall with the dagger or Mrs White in the library . . . oh never mind.’
I tried not to look too gobsmacked when Tanya opened the door to the library. There’s serious money in these here walls, I thought, as I took in the airy elegant room. Heavy ivory silk curtains hung at windows that must have been at least ten metres high. Plush pale sofas were arranged opposite each other in front of the most stunning fireplace I have ever seen. It was white marble. A man’s torso was carved out on each side with fruit and grapes and leaves winding round him. From floor to ceiling were shelves lined with endless books. Even the flower arrangement on the piano looked like it had cost a small fortune. No simple daffs for this household, here were lilies, white roses and orchids. Shame about the rugs though, I thought, as I walked over to the sofas. They were beautiful, but looked a bit faded round the edges.
Simon looked like he was asleep and Cressida was jabbering on her mobile phone while flicking through a copy of Tatler which lay on top of a pile of glossy magazines. Country Life. Vogue. Harpers & Queen. Vanity Fair.
‘Nesta’s here,’ announced Tanya.
Cressida ignored me and turned her knees towards the fireplace whilst continuing her phone conversation. Simon opened his eyes, looked up sleepily, then his face lit up. ‘I was just thinking about you,’ he said, getting up to greet me. ‘You look beautiful.’ Then he turned to Tanya. ‘Aren’t you two off somewhere?’
‘Yeah, yeah, ballet,’ said Tanya. ‘And I think I can safely guess what you two will be up to. Come on, Cressida, or we’ll be late.’
Cressida gave me a cursory glance, then did a double-take and checked out my outfit. She raised her eyebrows slightly, but didn’t say anything.
Some people find it hard to give compliments, I thought, and some people find it hard to receive them. Me, I’m good at both and decided maybe it was time she learnt from the Master.
‘You’re looking good today,’ I said to Cressida as she picked up a little handbag from the coffee table. ‘Cool bag.’
Before she could stop herself, she smiled. ‘Thanks. It’s Prada.’
Then, before I could stop myself, I blurted, ‘Oh. Like in that book by Jane Austen?’
‘What book?’ asked Cressida, taking the bait like a dream.
‘Prada ’n’ Prejudice,’ I said.
Simon and Tanya burst out laughing. ‘Oh very good,’ said Tanya. ‘In fact, we’re doing Pride and Prejudice at school next term.’
Cressida didn’t laugh. I was waiting for one of her eyebrows to go up or down. She had quite a range of eyebrow expressions. Left one up for an ‘I’m superior’ look. Right one up for disdain. Both up for bored interest. Both down and pulled together for disapproval.
‘Actually, before you go, I wanted to ask you both something,’ I said.
They stopped at the door.
‘My fr
iend Izzie is singing at a gig on Friday night and I wanted to know if you’d like to go.’
‘Yah, OK,’ said Tanya. ‘I don’t think we’re doing anything.’
‘Is she one of the girls who was in the shop the other day?’ asked Cressida. Aley-oop. Eyebrow up.
‘Yeah. Dark-haired one,’ I said. ‘She has an amazing voice and sings with a band called King Noz. They’re getting a really good name for themselves round North London.’
‘Well I’m in,’ said Simon.
‘Where exactly will this gig be?’ drawled Cressida.
‘Kentish Town somewhere. I’ll let you know nearer the time.’
‘Kentish Town? Where’s that?’ asked Cressida. Smell under nose and both eyebrows down.
Stuck-up cow, I thought. I was about to tell her that there is life outside West London but then I remembered Izzie wanted loads of people at the gig to impress the talent scouts.
Then inspiration struck. I know how to get you there, I thought.
‘There’s a whole crowd of us going,’ I said. ‘Lucy, her brothers, Tony.’
Suddenly Cressida looked interested, but I looked directly at Tanya. ‘I know he’d like to see you again.’
Of course, Cressida thought I meant her.
‘I suppose we could go,’ she said. ‘In fact, why not? It’ll be a hoot.’
After they’d gone, I settled in with Simon on the sofa. Even though it was spring, there was a real fire burning and the atmosphere was so cosy I thought we could stay there all afternoon. It was the first time I’d been alone with him properly since I’d met him and I didn’t fancy trawling round the pavements in Mum’s shoes. They look good but they’re clearly not for walking in.
‘Shall we stay here?’ I said, snuggling up to Simon.
He put his arm round me. ‘Yeah. Mum’s around somewhere. In fact, I want to introduce you but she’s upstairs with one of the slave team in at the moment.’
‘Slave team?’
‘Yeah. She has a whole load of people who look after her.’
‘Is she ill?’
Simon laughed. ‘No. She’s an interior designer. She’s quite famous.’ He indicated the fabulous flowers. ‘Our home is her showcase so she has a florist who comes in to make sure the place looks good. A nutritionist to make sure she eats right. A manicurist and pedicurist to make sure her nails look good. A hairdresser . . . Then she has her PA and her reflexologist and her aromatherapist and beautician . . .’
‘We also have people who come to the house,’ I said. ‘The milkman, the postman, the dustbin men . . .’
Simon laughed, but I felt sad for a minute because there was my mum worrying about work and money and telling us to economise and here was I sitting in this mega-posh place surrounded by dosh. Eight people to look after one! His mum must earn a fortune, I thought. Life’s a funny business. Why are some people so rich and others have nothing? I must ask Izzie later. She’s bound to have some kind of answer.
‘I think Mum’s having a massage,’ said Simon, putting his arm around me, ‘so that means she won’t be around for a while.’
‘Cool,’ I said and took his other hand in mine.
Simon stroked my fingers and sort of massaged my palm. It was heavenly. Holding hands can be so nice if you do it properly I’ve discovered. Almost as good as kissing.
‘Actually, I was going to ask you something,’ he said when we came up for air after a divine snogathon. ‘There’s a whole gang of us going away next week, for a few days. Skiing. At Courchevel. There were six of us but my friend Marcus has dropped out and I wondered . . . do you think you might be able to come?’
‘God, I’d love to . . .’ I began but I realised this was the time to come clean. My family couldn’t begin to keep up with his. No doubt about it, especially now that I had seen where he lived. Izzie’s words of encouragement echoed in my mind and gave me the strength to say what I knew I must.
He likes you no matter what, she’d said.
I had to tell him I couldn’t possibly ask my mum. It wasn’t only the trip away, there would be the gear to buy, and pocket money. Mum had enough stress as it was without me laying more on her. She’d been looking tired lately. And even Dad sounded strained when I talked to him on the phone. It’s them that needed the holiday break, never mind me.
‘You know what I really admire about you?’ said Simon just as I opened my mouth to explain.
‘What?’
Your amazing attitude. You don’t let anything faze you. It’s the kind of attitude that we’re always being encouraged to have at school. Even my dad was on about it the other day at lunch. But you don’t have to learn it. It’s natural with you. You’re one of life’s winners. Other people give up before they’ve even begun but not you. You go for it.’
Gulp. How can I possibly tell him now? I thought. Shatter his illusions that I am a tip-top winner-type person? Tell him I can’t go to Courchevel. That my family’s broke?
Er. I don’t think so.
Nesta’s Diary
Très interesting day.
Simon’s house is out of this world. Stunning. Classy. Going to the loo there is a spiritual experience as everything is so beautiful.
Lovely sandalwood soaps by Floris. Air freshener by Czech and Speake.
The sink and taps were a work of art.
I took notes of everything for when I am rich and famous.
Piles of white towels. Izzie’s mum would think she’d died and gone to heaven (she’s big on white towels as well).
Met Simon’s mum briefly. She looks expensive. Blonde with not a hair out of place. Dressed in cashmere. Looks like she sweats French perfume.
Big dilemna though. I said I’d go to Courchevel. Tony told me it’s a super fab ski resort and loads of the boys from his school go there.
V. expensive.
I thought again about contacting the model agency but even with them, I wouldn’t have the money in time. So. I’m drawing out my £30 savings and I’m going to gamble. Scratchcards.
Chapter 10
‘You’re mad,’ said Izzie, when I met her on the corner of our road. ‘Do you know what the chances are of you actually winning? It’s like, millions to one.’
‘So? Someone’s got to win. Why not me?’
‘But, why do we have to go to East Finchley High Road?’
‘In case anyone sees us. I can’t risk running into Mum or Tony or someone in Highgate.’
‘Are we meeting Lucy?’
I shook my head. ‘Nah. You have to be sixteen to buy Instant cards. Someone might suss that I’m not old enough if she was with us.’
‘God, you’ve really got this all worked out, haven’t you?’
‘You bet,’ I said, then laughed. ‘I mean I bet.’
‘Well as long as you know I don’t approve,’ said Izzie. ‘And I did promise Lucy I’d take her with me to Cyberdog today’
‘Cyberdog?’
‘The shop where Ben’s working. The manager is his cousin. He said I could borrow an outfit for the gig as it will be publicity for the shop.’
‘Cool. Maybe I could buy something there with my winnings. I’ve got thirty quid left in the world and I reckon that will give me a good chance.’
‘OK,’ she said doubtfully. ‘But don’t blame me if you lose it all.’
‘I’m feeling lucky. And my horoscope said I may get a windfall this week.’
That shut her up. Izzie’s well into astrology.
‘It’s like, sometimes in life, you have to gamble. Someone has to win. If you’re not in, you can’t win.’
‘Yeah. Maybe. Whatever,’ said Iz.
We came across a newsagent in the High Road with a Lottery sign outside and I quickly looked up and down the road to make sure that no one I knew was about. Like Mrs Allen the headmistress, or Tony.
I felt like a spy on a mission. ‘Just call me Bond. James Bond. Double-oh-seven,’ I said.
‘You’ll be more like double-oh-zero when you’ve no
money left,’ laughed Izzie.
‘Coast clear,’ I said as I opened the door and stepped inside.
Now. Which to choose? There were about eight varieties.
Now how much do I want to win? I thought. One thousand pounds. Five thousand pounds, twenty thousand, or the big one, one hundred thousand pounds.
‘Are you going to get one of each?’ asked Izzie, looking at the cards.
I shook my head. ‘No. I read somewhere that they only put a winning card in every now and again so I reckon I have a better chance of winning if I buy a few of one type from the same roll.’
I decided to go for the big one.
‘Can I have five of those Instant scratchcards?’ I asked the Indian lady behind the counter. ‘The ones for one hundred thousand.’
May as well aim high, I thought, as a thrill of anticipation ran through me.
‘There may be more winners on the smaller amounts,’ said Izzie, eyeing the chocolate on display.
‘No. Final decision,’ I said. As I handed over my money I spotted something I knew Izzie would like. ‘Er, and a bar of Green and Blacks.’
I handed Izzie the bar of organic chocolate and we went and sat on a bench in the High Road outside Budgens. I pulled out my purse and got out a coin.
‘What would you do if you won?’ asked Izzie, popping a piece of chocolate in her mouth.
Ah, my favourite fantasy, I thought. ‘I’d have a party with all our friends . . . Buy some new clothes . . . Get a car . . .’
‘But you can’t drive yet.’
‘Yeah, but for when I can. Then I’d get presents for you and Lucy and Tony and Mum and Dad. I’d go on holiday with you and Lucy. I’d take you to St Kitts in the Caribbean where Mum’s from. You’d love it: sand like talcum powder and the colours are to die for – turquoise, aquamarine . . . gorgeous. Then to Ravello in Italy, where Dad was born. It’s high on the Amalfi Coast. Amazing. Then I’d buy a flat. Get horse-riding lessons for Lucy and me. Buy you a studio . . .’
Izzie laughed. ‘Er, Nesta . . . you’ll only have one hundred thousand if you win . . . ’
Mates, Dates and Portobello Princesses Page 7