A Royal Mess (24 page)

‘Darling,’ she said to me, ‘what a lovely area, and imagine, you even have your own police force in bulletproof armour.’

I ignored her and pretended I was txt-ing Freds, which I wasn’t, because I’d already sent him a txt he hadn’t replied to yet, and I didn’t want to appear tragic.

As we pulled up in front of the largest house on the Common, I was struck by how lovely it looked. Honey was delighted too as she moaned. ‘Oh dear, Victorian architecture. How pokey. I can’t bear modern architecture. Anything post-Georgian makes me cringe,’ she groaned, visibly shivering.

‘Wow,’ Georgina gasped as she climbed out of the cab with Tobias. ‘It’s really big.’

Tobias looked impressed too.

Sarah was excited as she opened the door and ushered us all in. ‘Isn’t this super, our first official house party!’ She giggled like a small girl.

‘I’d hardly call it a house party,’ Honey sneered as she
cast her gaze around the lack of marble floors and wall-to-wall antiques.

‘I’ve tried to make it comfy,’ Sarah explained.

‘I can tell,’ replied Honey, picking up a Galle replica lamp and grimacing.

‘Oh cool, a plasma television and DVD,’ Indie said, rushing over and looking through the collection of DVDs. ‘Sarah, is this the show you worked on in the States?’

‘Yes, it was nothing wonderful, I assure you, Indie, but it paid the fees.’

Honey enveloped Sarah in a hug. ‘Poverty must be so harsh, Sarah. I can tell that just by looking at the enormous pores on your skin. I can’t imagine the envy that must wrack your every waking moment. Always knowing that you will never amount to anything, no matter how hard you try. Mediocrity is the death of creativity, Mummy says.’

‘Oh, so that’s how your soul died, is it, darling?’ Star asked. ‘Actually, Honey,’ she added looking at her watch, ‘isn’t it time for your formaldehyde injection?’

Honey was as ever a little slow with her comeback, and Star was pulling off her Doc Martens boots and flopping on the big, squishy white sofa by the time Honey made her sneering retort.

Everyone ignored her. Indie was busy loading one of Sarah’s DVDs into the player, and everyone else was snuggling up on the sofa to watch. Eventually Honey announced: ‘I could murder a G & T. Do you have staff,
Sarah, or will you have to prepare it for me yourself?’ I almost giggled at her attempt at a sympathetic pout.

Sarah wasn’t taking any more nonsense from Honey, though. ‘I’ll need to see your ID before I can do that, Honey. I don’t support underage drinking, and while you’re in my home you’ll live by my rules.’

‘Fine,’ Honey snapped. ‘You tragic Americans. I don’t know how you put up with yourselves. Have you never heard of the word “hospitality”?’

Sarah ignored her.

‘Oh, all right I’ll get it myself! Where’s the kitchen?’ she demanded, flouncing out of the room.

I made a sign to Sarah to ignore her. I couldn’t bear the thought of putting up with Honey and my poor madre at loggerheads all weekend. If a drink would slow down Honey’s brain, a drink she must have.

Sarah was catching on. ‘Oh, I am sorry, Honey,’ she called out. ‘But without the staff to show me around, I haven’t managed to find the kitchen yet.’

Everyone (apart from Honey) laughed at this, especially me. The weekend was getting off to a rather good start.

Later, Georgina insisted we all check out the house. ‘Come on, Sarah, show us around,’ she begged, pulling Sarah up off the sofa. Tobias is a real sticky beak, so you’ll have to lock up anything you don’t want him to poke about in.’

‘And can we let Dorothy, Brian and Hilda wander around, Sarah?’ Star enquired.

‘Hilda is the, erm, rat, isn’t she?’ Sarah asked lightly, but I could tell she was slightly anxious.

‘Well, theoretically. She’s madly bright, though. You should see her on her little wheel,’ Star told her as she pulled Hilda from her pocket.

I could tell Sarah wanted to scream, but instead she reached out bravely and gave Hilda a little stroke on the head and even managed to limit herself to a little yelp when Hilda bit her.

‘See, she adores you,’ Star said, and as Hilda was already scuttling around the sofa, there wasn’t much Sarah could do or say. ‘And Brian will just follow us about,’ Star added. ‘He’s desperately dependent and clingy, you see.’

‘Clingy!’ Sarah shrieked. ‘Is that safe?’

Star smiled her most adorable rock chick smile – the one that showed her tongue piercing. ‘Oh, Sarah, you are soooo funny. Brian’s the cuddliest snake you could hope to meet.’ The next minute Brian was draped around Sarah’s shoulders like a feather boa, and Sarah didn’t seem to mind. Instead she said brightly, ‘Let’s have that tour.’

The house turned out to be enormous. Not all the rooms were furnished, which suited us fine as we decided to use the biggest one as our sleepover room. Indie suggested we just lay down duvets and pillows. Sarah was delighted at Indie’s suggestion and offered to add an Arabic theme with rugs and bowls of Lebanese sweets.

We’d arranged to meet up with Billy, Kev, Freds and Malcolm on the KR. Given my poverty, I suggested we
take the bus, as if that might actually be fun, cramming in with a lot of strangers on a freezing bus in our skimpy mini-skirts and heels.

Sarah gave us directions, but our lack of street-smart savvy landed us miles away. Honey was whining, of course, but so was Tobias, who can’t bear being lost. Even Indie lost her temper, and told off her security guys for being incompetent. Our mood wasn’t helped by the drug-warning boxes perched on lampposts which blared out threatening messages about the dangers of finding ourselves in prison should we wish to purchase drugs.

‘I’d like to purchase some drugs,’ Honey declared. ‘I wonder if that nice man over there in the baggy trousers and balaclava on his head could help us? As he’s your neighbour, Calypso, perhaps you should ask?’

I didn’t deign to reply, but I had to admit the area
was
pretty dodgy in parts. Smart, gentrified houses and chichi boutiques were cheek to jowl with council estates and crack dens and not a black cab in sight. Eventually we climbed on a bus, but we were half an hour late for the boys, who had already finished off their lattes by the time we caught up with them in one of the seventy-two Starbucks on the KR.

After the compulsory air kissing we headed off down the KR, Freddie and Indie had their security guys stay a decent distance away from us, but they seemed incapable of blending in and kept bumping into us and stumbling over one another.

After a while they began to get on Indie’s nerves. ‘You look like something out of
Reservoir Dogs.
Can’t you at least try and blend in a bit?’ Indie demanded crossly.

Even though I was getting used to being trailed by security guards, I didn’t think I’d like having to live with them, especially during breaks, when a girl needed to pull a boy. And Indie was definitely determined to pull Malcolm.

Between all of us we knew every second person we passed. My lips got quite numb with all the
mwah-mwah-mwah-ing
we did. We went into the Cadogan Arms so that Honey could satisfy her craving for a drink, and then we went to Partridges to find some more trendy outfits that we could share.

The boys were coming back to Clapham with us, and Freds had the bright idea that it might be fun to try public transport. Malcolm came up with the bright idea of disguising themselves and their security guys with lipstick and eye shadow. I suppose it
was
quite funny. Also it reminded me of the day Malcolm, Kev and Freds had scaled the scaffolding of our dorm house and disguised themselves as girls to fool Miss Bibsmore.

I don’t know whose bright idea it was to get off at the wrong stop, but suddenly we were on Landor Road. Problem was, we’d left the security guys on the bus!

‘We should wait for them, I guess,’ Freds groaned, kicking listlessly at a used syringe on the street.

‘They’re big boys. They can take care of themselves.
Besides, they’ve been really irritating me today,’ Indie insisted, looking at Malcolm as she spoke.

Malcolm was looking at her as he had been all day. We’ll take care of you,’ he said, putting a protective arm around her. Only clearly he meant
he
planned to take care of her. She fluttered her eyelashes at him.

Freds noticed the chemistry between them too and gave my hand a squeeze. We wandered off in the direction in which the bus had vanished. At the corner, under a lamp that had had its light smashed out, we were offered drugs by a large guy with gold teeth and a hoodie pulled up over his head, Gandalf-style.

The drug-warning box we walked past was still operational and cheerfully chiming, ‘You can be imprisoned for both possession and intent to supply illegal substances. Please report any drug activity to the police.’

‘Skunk weed, crack?’ offered Gandalf.

Malcolm turned around pleasantly and asked, What is skunk weed exactly?’ Gandalf looked him up and down as if Malcolm were a bone he might want to chew. I began to feel scared. ‘Only is it weed or is it a specific type of weed?’ he probed.

‘Are you shitting me, bro?’ Gandalf asked, coming toward our little group with menace. He stuck his face right up against Malcolm’s. ‘Because I is warning you now, sunshine. I don’t like to be shit.’

‘No, well, I imagine you wouldn’t,’ agreed Malcolm in a friendly enough way. ‘But I assure you that shitting you
was never my intention,’ he added, all easy charm. He was clearly oblivious to any sense of danger.

Freds and Billy tried to pull Malcolm away.

Star, Georgina and the rest of us – apart from Honey – lurked in the background nervously. Well, I was nervous. Star looked quite relaxed with Brian slung around her neck like a feather boa. I suppose this was all perfectly normal for the daughter of Tiger from Dirge. In fact I think one of his big hits was titled “Scoring Skunk.”

‘Come on, man,’ Billy urged, tugging on the hood of Malcolm’s Ralphie.

‘Poney little shit,’ snarled Gandalf, grabbing the front of Malcolm’s Ralphie. That was when I realised that there were a few other Gandalf clones lurking around other lampposts nearby. Then Gandalf pulled his other hand out of his pocket and I saw the gold of the knuckle duster glint as he pulled his fist back to smash Malcolm’s face.

I was about to scream when Honey suddenly came forward and maced Gandalf – scoring a direct hit. But all the mace did for Gandalf was what the Febreze had done for me. It teared him up a bit, but didn’t completely incapacitate him. He was still holding Malcolm and now calling loudly for his brethren. So Honey maced him again, only this time she was inches away and taking a bit of a risk if you ask me. But she was as relaxed as could be as she emptied the contents of the mace can into Gandalfs face.

Howling in pain, the guy eventually let go of Malcolm
and we all legged it down the road – the brethren and their injured brother in hot pursuit. For such big guys they could run pretty fast, too. One of them collared Kev and was about to launch his fist in his face when Honey smashed one of her Jimmy Choos on his head over and over again. Another of them got hold of Malcolm, but Indie jumped on his back, giving Malcolm the chance to smash his forehead into the guy’s nose.

The security men eventually arrived in time to use their stun guns on the dozens of Gandalf brethren flooding out of a nearby council estate armed to the teeth with knives and God knows what else. ‘Get out of here, will you!’ one of the security guys yelled at us.

So we legged it, closely followed by a number of Gandalfs, but all those cross-country runs we’d been tortured with over years were starting to make sense now. I guess drugs had depleted the Gandalfs’ level of physical fitness because they were slobs compared to the girls of Saint Augustine’s and the boys of Eades. Even the security guards had more breath in them than the Gandalfs – one of whom even resorted to using a Ventolin spray, he was wheezing so badly.

We finally lost them after about a hundred yards. The security guys were not impressed with us, but they were sensible enough to take us into a café and get some sweet tea into us.

We all piled into the loo at the café to clean ourselves up and fix our hair. As we were coming out we bumped into
the boys, who’d all been preening themselves as well. Poor Malcolm had a torn shirt. ‘Don’t worry about it. I’ve got dozens,’ he replied when Indie began to fuss.

‘There is no way we can let Sarah know about what just happened, guys, okay?’ I insisted.

‘Why not?’ Honey asked. ‘She does live here. They may well be her friends,’ Honey suggested.

And just when I was starting to like her for saving us from Gandalf.

‘Don’t be more of an idiot than you already are, Honey,’ Freddie told her firmly, and she relented sulkily, even going so far as to admit she was only joking.

Sarah threw open the door to us and sang, ‘Hel-lo! I was just about to call out a search party,’ she joked in blissful ignorance. ‘How was your day?’

We all answered, ‘Super!’