Bet Your Life (12 page)

“Not bad.” Ryan put an arm around my shoulders. “Have you met Jess?”

“I can’t say I’ve had the pleasure.” The sunglasses went up on top of his head and Harry smiled at me. He looked tired but focused. His eyes never left my face, as if I was the most fascinating person in the room and all he’d ever wanted was to talk to me.

“Jess Tennant,” I said. “I was just asking Ryan about your famous parties.”

“Believe everything you’ve heard. Actually, believe that they’re twice as extreme as you’ve heard.”

“I do,” I said truthfully. “I gather they’re pretty amazing.”

“You could say that.” He snapped his fingers. “You know, you should come along tonight. Ryan’s coming, aren’t you, mate?”

“Wouldn’t miss it. What’s this about a theme, though?”

Harry’s eyes glittered. “I got bored with the same-old same-old. I wanted a change. It’s Deadly Decadence tonight, and if you don’t make an effort, you’re not getting in. The girls have to look beautiful. I mean, really stunning.”

“You could go as you are,” Ryan said to me, and Harry clapped, slowly.

“Smooth. But actually, I’d have to put my foot down. You need to look the best you’ve ever looked in your life, Jess Tennant. That’s what we’re going for here. Exceptional.”

“I’ll bear that in mind.” I was already quite sure my wardrobe wasn’t going to cover it. Glancing over, I was relieved to see that Darcy had sat down beside Petra. I was going to need all the fashion advice I could get.

“I’ll look forward to it.” Harry looked at me again, for slightly longer than I might have expected, and then punched Ryan on the shoulder. “Mate. You don’t change.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ryan asked, but all he got was a grin as Harry slipped the sunglasses back down and went to sit with his friend.

“He is seriously charming,” I said.

“When he wants to be.” Ryan looked down at me. “What time do you want to get there? People usually start turning up after ten.”

“That sounds about right.”

“I’ll come round to your house.”

“OK.”

“We can walk over there together. I’d drive, but…” He mimed drinking.

“Fine by me.” I was amused that Ryan was taking charge. It was what came naturally to him. All the unrequited yearning had obviously been a strain.

“Do you want me to find someone for your friend?”

“Ella?” I looked round to see Hugo murmuring something in her ear as she giggled. Petra and Darcy were looking utterly bored. When Petra saw us looking, she mimed slitting her wrists. “Could you get Hugo on the list so he can take her?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Thanks, Ryan.” I really meant it.

“I’ll see you later.” He leaned down, and instinctively I turned my head, so that his kiss landed on the corner of my mouth, instead of right on it as he’d intended. He grinned at me anyway before turning away and I headed back to my table feeling heartless. Maybe I should stamp on a few kittens for an encore.

“How did that go?” Ella asked.

“As well as can be expected.”

“Did you get him to invite you to the party?”

“Of course.”

“And you met Harry Knowles himself.”

“I did.”

“Then why do you look grim?”

“Guilt,” Hugo said. “She’s just using him for social success.”

“I am taking advantage,” I admitted. “But it’s for a good cause.”

“I think you should stay out of it,” Hugo said. “For the record.”

“Let the record show that Hugo thinks I should stay out of it.”

“But you’re not going to.”

I smiled at him pityingly. “What do you think?”

“I am going to need to know all about this,” Darcy said. “But the main question is obviously what you’re going to wear.”

“I don’t really have anything suitable.”

Petra grinned. “You don’t. But I know where we can find something perfect.”

*   *   *

“I’m starting to wish I hadn’t bothered to bring going-out clothes. If I had known you had the keys to this place all along…” Ella was wandering around Fine Feathers, picking things up and putting them down again. She looked as if she was in heaven.

“I didn’t have the keys. I didn’t even know Tilly did.”

“Sylvia asked her to keep them in case the shop caught fire or got burgled. She always leaves them with her.” Petra jumped up to sit on the counter, swinging her legs.

“Be careful up there,” I warned. “If you go through the glass, you’ll hurt yourself. More importantly, you’ll ruin the display, and it took me ages to do.”

“Can we put the lights on?” Ella asked. “It’s gloomy in here.”

“I don’t want people to think the shop is open. And you get used to it after a while.” Besides, the lighting actually didn’t make that much difference. Two dim bulbs hung from the ceiling, and unless you were standing directly underneath them, you wouldn’t have known they were even on.

“What you need,” Darcy said authoritatively, “is a dress.”

“I’m not wearing a dress. I was thinking jeans and a top.”

“That’s what you always wear and you need to be transformed.” Darcy waggled her fingers, fairy-godmother-style. “You said it yourself. You need to get Seb’s friends to talk to you, and the best way to do that is to look incredible. If they’re anything like Seb, they’ll be all about appearances. You’ve got to make an extra effort.”

“Unlike my usual look, which is zero effort.”

“You said it.” Petra grinned at the expression on my face.

“I just don’t think—” I started to say, but Ella interrupted.

“Jessica Tennant, if the girl says you need a dress, you need a dress. And I don’t see the problem. Your legs are fine. You used to wear dresses in London.”

“
Did
she?” Darcy asked, interested.

“Frequently.”

Petra grinned. “She wore one the other night. But that was for her Bo-Peep costume and she made a huge fuss about it.”

“Can you stop talking about me as if I’m not here? Ella, why don’t you go and find Hugo?” The thought of a clothes-shopping trip—even an illicit one—had sent Hugo home in a hurry.

“Don’t try to distract me. Why don’t you want to look good, please?”

I wriggled. “It’s not that I don’t want to look good. I’ve just got in the habit of trying to avoid attention. And if I have to be Action Girl for any reason, I’d rather be in jeans.”

“Why would you need to be Action Girl? You’re just going to the party to meet Seb’s friends and ask a few questions.”

“You never know, though.”

Darcy clapped her hands to get our attention. “OK, so you’ll need to be prepared to swing into superhero mode. I like a challenge. You can still wear a dress.”

“Not a short one,” I said, wary.

“It’ll be fine.” Darcy sounded confident. “Now where do you keep the going-out stuff?”

I went over to a rack by the wall and pulled a little red dress off the rail. “This kind of thing?”

“Exactly.”

“But not this.”

“Probably not.” Petra climbed down and came over to hold the dress up against me. It was short and sleeveless, with a belt, a high neckline, and a full skirt. I absolutely hated it. Ella stood beside her, the two of them tilting their heads to stare at me. They had exactly the same critical expression.

“It would fit,” Ella said. “Perfectly.”

“I think we can do better,” Petra announced.

“Me too.” Ella took it. “But let’s put it in the changing room. Just in case.”

Petra nodded. “Just in case.”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “Yeah, why don’t we waste our time? We’ve got a little under six hours to transform Jess. What’s the point in trying on something no one likes?”

“I just thought we shouldn’t rule it out,” Ella said, holding onto the hanger. “You never know.”

“You absolutely know.” Darcy lifted up a fold of the skirt. “Ugh. Cheap material.”

“Darcy,” I said. “Tone it down.”

“What? I’m just saying we don’t have time to mess around.” She looked super-innocent, but she’d been getting at Ella ever since she found out she was my best friend. Darcy and I had never got to be as close as Darcy and Freya had been, but that wasn’t from lack of trying on her part. Now that Ella was here, she felt threatened. I wished I could explain the situation to Ella but there hadn’t been a chance. Anyway, Ella was well able to stand her ground.

“We are in a charity shop, you know. We’ll be lucky if we find anything that fits Jess, let alone the perfect dress.” Defiantly, she hung the red dress on the rail in the changing room. “It’s not my first pick, but I still think it’s worth keeping it in reserve.”

Recognizing that she’d lost the battle, Darcy started rummaging through the rails. “What else is there?”

“Lots of stuff,” Petra said, peace-making. “We’ll find something perfect.”

“Do I get any say in what I wear?” I asked.

The reply was swift, and came in unison. “No.”

They did, however, allow me a veto, which I used twice: once for a sky-blue draped dress with a fitted strapless top and a poufy skirt that made me feel like a skater who’d wandered away from an ice-dancing competition. The other time was for a gold-sequined number that was too Vegas showgirl for me.

“Try it on,” Ella suggested.

“Not even so you can laugh at me.” I handed it back to her and pulled the changing-room curtain across so I could tackle the next hanger. “You try it on if you want to see how it looks.”

“This always happens,” Darcy said wisely. “You get cooperation for a bit and then she starts getting difficult.”

Ella nodded. “And she can be
so
difficult.”

“Just so you know, the curtain isn’t soundproof.” I poked my head through it. “I can hear what you’re saying about me.”

“All true.” Ella pulled the curtain over so I had to duck back inside the cubicle or risk getting a face full of dusty material. “Get on with it. What about the black-and-white one?”

I pulled a face—the black-and-white one was not my favorite—but I did as I was told.
Difficult
, indeed. I preferred it when Ella and Darcy were sniping at one another instead of focusing on my shortcomings.

Two dresses later, I pulled the curtain back and stood in front of them. “This one.”

“Oooh.” Petra went one way, Ella the other, circling me with narrowed eyes. Darcy stood at a distance, her arms crossed, frowning.

“You’re making me nervous.” I turned to see myself in the mirror. The dress was black, of course, and short, but with a straight skirt that flared very slightly. The top was a fitted bustier with the most delicate lace overlay that ran on to make cap sleeves. It swooped low at the back. Very low, I thought, seeing a lot of bare skin in the mirror. “Maybe it’s too much.”

“No way. I love it.” Ella bit her lip. “You can’t wear a bra.”

“It’ll show,” Petra agreed.

“Well, I don’t know if it was Mr. Dolce or Mr. Gabbana who thought of that, but someone did. The bodice is boned so I don’t need one.”

“Excellent,” Darcy purred. “Now you just need shoes.”

“And you need to do something with your hair.”

“And makeup. Proper makeup.”

“OK.” I held up my hands. “I know you three are enjoying this, but give me a break.”

“No breaks. This is important. You want those boys to talk to you and you know what they like,” Darcy said.

“They like girls like Immy Hinch.”

“So you need to be like Immy Hinch. And Immy Hinch wears heels.” Darcy started rooting through the shoes on a low shelf by the changing room. “What size are you? Five?”

“And a half.” I sighed. “I hate wearing heels. And I have to walk there, may I remind you. And stand around while I’m there.
And
walk back.”

“Poor, poor you.” Ella patted my shoulder on her way to join in the search through the shoe shelf. “The things you do for the truth. Maybe Ryan will give you a piggyback.”

“I bet that’s not all he’ll offer to give her in that dress.”

“
Petra!
” I was outraged. “Get your mind out of the gutter, please.”

“It’s true. He’s going to flip,” Petra said happily, flinging a pair of strappy sandals at me.

“Not those. I can’t have bare legs. I’ll die of cold.”

“Just try them so we can see if that’s the right height,” Darcy ordered.

I could see why someone had abandoned the shoes to a charity shop. Not only did you need a degree in engineering to know how the straps were supposed to go, they were vilely uncomfortable. It took me ages to get into them. I straightened up warily.

Ella stared. “Wow. They look fab.”

“Amazing,” Petra said.

“Perfect,” Darcy agreed.

“Horrendous. Forget it.” I wobbled toward them. “Look at me. This isn’t fab. This is a chiropractor’s appointment waiting to happen.”

Ella winced. “You really need to practice to be good in heels.”

“And I skipped it. Silly me.” I almost overbalanced and clutched a rack of suits. “The last time I got all dressed up in weird clothes to fight crime, my feet nearly died. I had to go to hospital. I can’t do this again.”

Petra sat back on her heels. “If we can find shoes that you can walk in, will you wear them?”

“That’s a big if.” I sighed. “I don’t want to be accused of being uncooperative again, but seriously, this is too much. Can’t I pick the shoes?”

“Will you let me do your makeup?” Ella asked. “The way I want to do it?”

“Fine.”

“OK then. No heels.” Darcy shook her head sadly. “It could have been so beautiful.”

“Only if I was able to stand still all night, like this.” I held a pose while Ella scrabbled for her phone.

“Lauren will never forgive me if I miss this. Stay like that. One more second.”

I did as I was told. With my head at an awkward angle, all I could see was my reflection in the changing-room mirror. The dress looked fine. It was my face that was the problem. Specifically, the look in my eyes.

Fear.

I really hoped this wasn’t going to turn out to be my biggest mistake yet.

9

Petra was right about one thing—Ryan did like the dress. I heard him with Hugo in the hall and ran downstairs, glad that I had insisted on wearing my silver Converse instead of heels. The two boys glanced up as I turned the corner and came into view, and Ryan, who’d been talking, fell silent. I started to feel very self-conscious indeed as they both stared. And stared. And stared.