Читать книгу The It Girl: Don't Tell the Bridesmaid - Katy Birchall - Страница 6

It turns out that, when it comes to packing, asking your two best friends to come over and help you is very unproductive.

Especially when the two best friends in question are Jess and Danny.

‘What is THIS?’ Jess held up one of my T-shirts. ‘You can’t bring this.’ She threw it away from her dismissively.

My yellow Labrador, Dog, equally as unhelpful with packing, immediately galloped excitedly across the room to fetch it.

‘Hey, Anna,’ Danny said before I had the chance to chastise Jess for causing more mess, ‘one of your dad’s jumpers got mixed up with your stuff.’

‘That’s not one of Dad’s,’ I huffed, snatching the jumper from him and holding it to my chest. ‘It’s mine.’

‘Oh right.’ He paused. ‘It’s nice. Very . . . trendy?’

Jess sniggered. ‘This is nice. You can bring this.’ She plonked a summer dress into my open suitcase lying on the floor.

‘You guys are worse than Marianne,’ I sighed, slumping down on to my bed and encouraging Dog to hop up and join me. ‘You’re all a nightmare.’

‘Yes, it must be so hard when your dad is marrying a super-famous actress and your future stepsister just happens to be Marianne Montaine, the most famous It Girl in Britain, who is able to give you fashion advice,’ Jess said, rolling her eyes. ‘What a tough life you lead.’

I narrowed my eyes at her. ‘I don’t remember you getting trapped in an attic for hours.’

‘It was about ten minutes,’ she argued. ‘And that was your own fault for being so uncooperative.’

‘It’s lucky you arrived when you did, Danny. A few more minutes and I might have passed out from inhaling too much dust.’

He laughed and came to sit next to me on the bed, leaving Jess flinging around clothes from the pile spilling out of my wardrobe, and allowing me to rest my head on his shoulder. ‘Is that the one about Helena?’ he asked, pointing at the glossy magazine sitting on my bedside table.

‘Yeah.’

I passed it to him so he could admire the picture of my future stepmother wearing a sparkling green sequin dress, her hands on her hips, the wind machine blowing her glossy hair out and an easy-going smile framing her pearly white teeth. ‘It’s weird to think that she’s on the front cover of magazines,’ Danny said, ‘a famous movie star with a legion of fans . . . and then at the same time she’s just Helena, the lady your dad is getting married to. Big year for you.’

Um, just slightly. A big year for most people would be, I don’t know, passing all your exams with flying colours, for example, winning an academic school prize, maybe, or riding an elephant on holiday, perhaps.

So far this year, this is what has happened to me:

1. I set someone on fire.

2. My dad went to interview a famous actress, fell in love with her and then got engaged to her. Without my permission, I might add.

3. I started getting photographed for websites and newspapers all the time.

4. They said I was an It Girl, because my soon-to-be stepsister was an It Girl and we became really good friends, even though she gets compared to Audrey Hepburn in the press and I get compared to ghostly moles and guinea pigs by my friends.

5. I got stuck in a waterfall. Upside down.

6. I got stuck in a plant pot. Bottom first.

7. I got a boyfriend. Which is hard to believe when considering the above.

8. I went on a date with my FIRST EVER BOYFRIEND! Then I destroyed the venue.

‘You’re missing something,’ Jess said when I mentioned all this in order to demonstrate Danny’s amazing power of understatement.

‘I know –’ Danny clicked his fingers – ‘singing terribly in front of the whole school and no one clapping and it was really awkward.’

‘No, that’s not it,’ Jess said thoughtfully.

‘Hitting Connor when he tried to kiss her?’

‘That’s the one!’

As I buried my face in a cushion, Danny put the magazine down and picked up the Italy guidebook my dad had given me, flicking to the Rome chapter.

‘What exactly is there to do in Rome?’ Jess asked, making a disgusted face at one of my skirts and throwing it back into my wardrobe. I held on to Dog’s collar so he couldn’t make a running leap after it. ‘It’s basically all about the food, right? Spaghetti Bolognese and ice cream and stuff.’

Danny threw an irritated look at Jess. ‘Rome is one of the most beautiful cities in the world,’ he muttered, scratching behind Dog’s ears. Dog looked up at him adoringly, his tongue lolling out in appreciation. ‘It is full of history and culture as well as spaghetti Bolognese.’

‘Whatever. I just hope a gorgeous Italian guy asks me out. Maybe we can go on a double date, Anna,’ she said, winking at me.

‘I can’t. Connor isn’t going to Rome, remember?’

‘Oh yeah.’ Jess smiled mischievously. ‘I forgot. He can’t have fun because he’s an artist.’ She threw two pairs of flip-flops into my suitcase. ‘When I meet my dream Italian boy, I’ll just have to go on a double date with Stephanie and Danny, then.’

Danny immediately went bright red at the mention of his new girlfriend, Stephanie, the girl who I mistakenly thought Connor fancied last term because she is really cool and artistic and has one of those blunt fringes that I sometimes find myself staring at because it is just so neat.

‘I’m not going on a double date,’ Danny stated firmly, returning his focus to the guidebook. ‘I wonder if we’ll have time to visit all these recommendations.’

‘Why wouldn’t you go on a double date? Don’t you loooooooove Stephanie?’ Jess pouted and made kissing sounds.

‘Shut up.’ Danny blushed, throwing one of my pillows at her and making her laugh.

She stood up and rushed over, poking Danny’s cheeks and saying, ‘Are you embarrassed, Danny-wanny-woo-woo?’

‘Gerroff !’ he yelled as she continued to squidge his cheeks. Dog got excited at the commotion and felt left out so he headbutted me.

‘OW, DOG!’ I cried, rubbing my forehead. ‘You gave me no warning!’

‘Anna! What is all this racket?’ My door swung open and Dad stood in the doorway, his arms crossed, his hair sticking up all over the place, his eyebrows leaping about his face at every pronounced syllable. He looked at the state of my room in despair. ‘There are clothes everywhere.’

‘Hey, Mr Huntley, you know what would really help our packing?’ Jess looked at him innocently. ‘More brownies. The ones you made this morning were truly remarkable.’

‘Oh. Well, thank you, Jess,’ Dad said, his hard expression softening. ‘Baking is one of my hidden talents.’

I snorted. Dad’s face immediately switched back to his Anna-I-don’t-have-time-for-this-nonsense expression. ‘Anna, I don’t have time for this nonsense. I’m trying to write a chapter about parachutes in my study. It’s not easy when you’re –’

‘I promise we’ll be really quiet now,’ I interjected before he could use this opportunity as an excuse to drone on about how writing another boring book about weapons used in the war is for my benefit because who else is putting bread on the table and blah blah blah. I mean, why can’t he write interesting books like romantic comedies? Why does he have to write bestselling books on OLD stuff ? Probably because he is old.

‘How is the book going?’ Danny asked politely, as though he were actually interested.

‘It’s . . . er coming along, thank you,’ Dad said, hesitating. ‘A lot of pressure with the wedding on top of it all. It would be a bit easier if we weren’t hounded by reporters the whole time, of course, but,’ he smiled, ‘you have to make sacrifices when you’re marrying the woman of your dreams.’

‘Ew, Dad, GROSS!’ I wrinkled my nose.

He laughed. ‘Right, keep the noise down. I better get back to my parachutes.’

‘Are you seriously writing a whole chapter about parachutes? What can you even say? They are just big floaty bits of material.’ Jess shrugged, receiving a pointed look from Danny, which she failed to notice. ‘I don’t think you should write a parachute chapter. If you ask me, Mr H, I would stick to explosions and stuff. Give the people what they want. Throw in a love story and you’re golden.’

‘Thank you, Jessica,’ Dad replied drily. ‘I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your advice on my life’s work.’

Jess smirked.

‘Your dad is seriously cool,’ Danny announced, looking at me enviously when he had gone. ‘He is writing army books AND dating a movie star.’

‘All right, Danny, careful you don’t drool too much on the pillow,’ Jess snorted. ‘It is quite sweet the way he talks about Helena, though. You can tell they’re the real deal even though they’re celebrities.’

‘What does that mean?’ I asked.

‘You know.’ She shrugged and picked up the magazine, flicking to a page inside and pointing at the showbiz news pages. ‘There’s always drama with famous people and their relationships. They fall in love, they split up, they start dating someone half their age, they go into politics, they get back together and so on and so forth.’ She slapped the magazine back on the table again. ‘Maybe it’s because your dad and Helena are older and wiser. It’s very refreshing that they’re different.’

‘Your dad is very patient to put up with all the press attention,’ Danny added solemnly.

‘I guess it is tiring for him, especially when he’s trying to plan a wedding and write a book. And then I make things worse by destroying comic book conventions and the photos are on every front page in the country.’ I felt my cheeks go hot as I remembered the look on Connor’s face when someone insensitively asked him to take a photo of them with me when we were desperately trying to find the exit. At least he laughed about it afterwards. ‘Connor is very patient too. He can have a break from it while I’m away.’

‘Don’t worry, Anna,’ Jess said, moving back to my pile of clothes and beginning to sift through them again. ‘Look at Notting Hill. It worked out for Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts.’

‘Is Connor really not coming on the trip?’ Danny looked disappointed. ‘Who am I going to hang out with when you girls are being . . . girls?’

‘Who am I going to hang out with when you lot are on your double date?’ I said glumly.

Jess rolled her eyes dramatically. ‘Maybe it’s time to make new friends in Rome.’

‘No way.’ I groaned as Jess threw one of my skirts across the room. ‘It’s taken me fourteen years to make friends in England. And I speak the same language here. In Italy they wouldn’t even know what I was saying.’

‘That could work to your advantage,’ Danny said under his breath with a smile before I threw him an evil glare.

‘Stop being so pathetic – you are a particularly awesome friend and . . . Hey, Anna . . .’ Jess hesitated. ‘What’s this? Wait a moment. Is this . . . is this . . . a CAPE?’

She yanked out a large red piece of material from the pile of clothes and held it up so that Danny could get a good look.

‘Does that big glittery gold “A” on it stand for Anna?’ Danny asked, sitting upright and looking mesmerised by it.

‘Uh . . .’ I blushed. ‘No?’

There was a moment’s pause before they both burst into hysterical, uncontrollable, tear-inducing laughter.

Note to self: it’s time to make new friends in Rome.