Diamonds Are a Teen's Best Friend (13 page)

My eyes remain on the spot he was sitting in for … I couldn’t tell you how long. Minutes. Hours. Days. Weeks. I have no idea.

I hole up in the cabin again, nursing my wounds. I’ve been thrown off my emotional roller-coaster this time – first so happy, then so depressed, then so happy again and now I’m …‘non-operational’ is the only word I can think of. This is beyond depressed. For some distraction, I go to connect to the Net, then remember Alexa and her email and I just know she’ll have emailed again, so I don’t. I try to read a book, but can’t concentrate. In the end, I lie back and stare at the ceiling, replaying my confrontation with Marc over and over and over again in my head.

‘Hello, pumpkin,’ Dad says, making me jump. I’d been so caught up in my thoughts that I hadn’t even heard him come in the room.

‘Oh, hi, Dad.’ I sit up a bit. He goes over and sits down
on his bed, looking a bit glum. ‘What’s up?’ I ask.

‘Hmmm? Oh, nothing.’

You’ve got to love the guy – he’s so transparent. I sit up a bit further. ‘Yes there is. Come on, tell me.’

‘It’s silly, really.’

‘Come
on
.’

‘Er, I was supposed to meet up with Holly late this afternoon. She said she wanted to see some of the data from the study. But about an hour before we were meant to meet, her nephew – Marc, is it?’

Don’t remind me. I nod, trying not to wince.

‘Well, he called and said that she was busy. I guess …’ He pauses for a moment.

‘What?’

He shrugs. ‘I guess she wasn’t really interested in the study after all. Perhaps she was just making conversation. It’s funny because I thought …’ Another pause.

Oh, no. I knew it. I
knew
my dad liked Holly. She hadn’t even needed to put her Nessa’s Lessons in Love moves on him for it to happen. ‘You thought what?’ He’s past glum now. He looks … sad. Despondent even. Just like me. What a pair.

‘I thought …’ But then he looks up, making an obvious and over-the-top effort to brighten his expression. ‘Sorry, sweetheart. Like I said, I’m just being silly. Anyway, I’ve got to get on. I’ve got another two interviews to do this afternoon.’ He jumps up from his bed then.

I sit up properly now. ‘But, Dad …’

‘No,’ he says, waving one hand as he opens the cabin door with the other. ‘Don’t you worry about me. I’ll see you in a few hours. We’ll have a lovely dinner. Just the two of us. All right?’

I nod. And then he’s gone. But I can’t help but notice that, just before the door closes (when he thinks I can’t see him anymore), his shoulders do that all-too-familiar slump again.

To the sound of his retreating footsteps, I fall back down on the bed. That’s my fault, those slumped shoulders. All my fault. I’ve hurt everyone around me, including myself. My dad, who now thinks that Holly isn’t really interested in him or his study; Marc, who thinks I’m some kind of tabloid journalist hanging around with a guy who isn’t my father (who’s he supposed to be, anyway, my editor?); Holly, who’s going to think Dad and I are ignoring her; and
Alexa, who I know for sure thinks I’m ignoring her.

Just for a second, all of this makes me question whether I’m doing the right thing – trying to get Holly and Ted together. But just for a second. No longer. Because it has to be right, doesn’t it? Like I’ve been thinking all along, it’s too perfect. Holly herself had said she thought she’d met PM. PM whose first initial was T. Yes. Even if I don’t know what I have to do next, I have to keep believing that it’s the right thing to do. I have to have faith. In Holly. And Ted. And in Marilyn. I know that it will all work out in the end. It always does. Just like in the movies. Like they say, it’s darkest before dawn. And that’s always true in the movies – things always get very, very complicated before they unravel and work themselves out. And this is the complicated bit.

Ugh, the really complicated bit.

I just wish I knew how to make it all work out.

Double ugh. I turn over and put my head under the pillow. I want this trip to be over.

Yesterday.

As it turns out, though, Dad and I don’t have dinner alone. Instead, we get invited to have dinner at the Captain’s table. I don’t think either of us really wants to go, not feeling much like socialising, but apparently being asked to dine at the Captain’s table is a Big Deal, so we don our finest and head up to the restaurant like the good little passengers that we are.

And I wish I was feeling more up to this, because the Captain is a complete and utter darling and the people on the table turn out to be really interesting – there’s a guy who used to be a cosmonaut, a ballerina, a political activist who makes documentaries, Dad and, um, me (hey, not that I feel out of place or anything!). In a way, it makes me kind of proud of my dad. That people think he’s interesting and what he does is important, even if he doesn’t make much money doing it, like Holly or Antonio. I’m chatting to the ex-cosmonaut (who’s got the best accent!) and am even starting to enjoy myself a tad when I see them.

Marc and Holly.

Oh, no. Of course, I panicked when Dad said we were going to the proper restaurant. And I almost lost the plot when I saw we were going to be sitting at table two, right
next to table three – Holly’s table. But then no-one had appeared and I thought I was safe. That they were ordering dinner in their suite or something.

Wrong.

As they make their way to their seats, I focus my full attention back on Nikolai, the ex-cosmonaut. Well, my full attention except for one eye, which keeps a tab on what’s going on at the next table. Hang on, is that …?

It is! Antonio. Oh, no. Antonio sits down beside Holly.

Now I can’t help myself. I really do look over. Seeing my movement, Holly glances over and waves. She goes to get up, but Marc reaches up and touches her arm. Says something to her. She glances down at him, then over at me for a second, then at my dad for even longer. Finally, a puzzled look comes over her face before she sits back down once more. And, in that moment, I know it wasn’t Holly’s idea to cancel her appointment with my dad this afternoon. It was Marc’s. She doesn’t know anything about it. And who knows what he’s told her about us? Both this afternoon and just now.

Holly doesn’t look at me, or my dad, again all evening. As for Marc, he never even looks at me at all.

Antonio, however, does enough ‘looking’ for everyone. He doesn’t take his eyes off Holly all night long. In fact, he’s all over her. The weird thing is that, at first, it looks like he’s annoying Holly. But as the night progresses, she seems to change her mind. And, by the time our mains are taken away, strangely, Nessa’s Lessons in Love get dusted off and brought out once more. Holly starts flirting and simpering and batting her eyelashes, to the point where I kind of wish I’d never given her any lessons at all. Even more strangely, even though Holly’s doing all of this, she doesn’t look like she’s having a good time. I can’t help noticing that my dad’s eyes flick over to table three involuntarily, watching them, Holly and Antonio, all too often. Just like my eyes had flicked to the elevators this afternoon. He can’t help himself, poor guy. I feel a stab in my heart then. Dad must really like Holly. So, for him to watch this … ugh, it must just be awful. Far, far more awful than it is for me.

As we work our way through dessert and coffee, Antonio just gets worse. Louder and more over the top. He’s so not right for Holly and while she was trying before, now she really doesn’t look like she’s enjoying herself. But
she doesn’t tell Antonio to go away, either. Beside them, Marc looks like he’d rather be anywhere else on earth than on table three (well, except maybe next to me on table two).

Eventually, as the night wears on painfully slowly, my dad stops looking over at Holly. Which is bad. Because I can tell from his expression that he’s now cut her off. He’s changed his mind about her. While he might have been disappointed not to see her this afternoon, she’s been recategorised. He’s put her back in the ‘West Coast’ box.

Holly’s just proved his theory to him. Now, he thinks she’s shallow. Shallow and flighty. And I want to turn to him and tell him she’s not. That Holly’s not like that. That she’s just gone a little crazy in her hunt for PM and doesn’t trust any of her actions or reactions anymore. That she’s confused and hurt. And most of this is my fault. But what can I say? How can I prove it? Sitting over there, letting Antonio make her look like a fool, how can I tell my dad that Holly’s not like that? He wouldn’t believe me whatever I said. However I explained it to him.

A little while later, I give up looking at table three as well. It’s just … embarrassing. That is, I give up looking
until I can’t ignore the feeling any longer – the feeling that someone’s now looking at
me
. Staring at me. I glance up, my eyes instantly meeting Marc’s and my breath catches, tightening in my chest. Quickly, I look away again.

But Marc doesn’t.

I can feel his eyes boring into me for the rest of the evening. And every time I can’t help myself and take a quick glance over, his eyes are still there, unblinking, unfailing. Staring at me. It’s like he’s changed his mind and decided that as much as he wants to ignore me, he can’t afford to. That he shouldn’t let me out of his sight for a second. I can’t breathe every time I see this. It’s like he’s suffocating me. And maybe my dad feels the same way, because he refuses a second cup of coffee (he
always
has a second cup of coffee) and it’s not long before he turns to me. ‘Ready to go, pumpkin?’

Silently, I nod.

We say our goodbyes and then make our way to the elevators.

Marc’s eyes don’t leave me for a second. I can feel his gaze right up until the elevator doors close.

Dad and I then trudge, again silently, all the way back
to our cabin. I think we’re both too tired and depressed to try to cheer each other up.

Inside, I sit down on my bed and my dad plants a kiss on that familiar old spot on top of my head. ‘I’m going to have a quick shower,’ he says, then grabs a few bits and pieces, makes his way into the bathroom and shuts the door behind him.

I stare at the bathroom door for what feels like a long, long time and then sigh a long sigh. So, now what? I’m so stuck. I don’t know what to do. I can’t stay holed up in the cabin for the rest of the trip. For two whole days. That would be stupid. And I can’t leave things as they are either. Everyone’s so unhappy. I have to do something. I have to make everything right again. I’ve got two days. Two days in which to fix everything.

But what am I going to do?

I stare and stare and stare and think and think and think.

And what I come up with is this: I need to stick to the plan. I mean, when in doubt, stick to the plan, right? After all, that’s what plans are for. You make them so that when things get tough, you’ve got something to guide you. To
remind you what you have to do. And the plan was, and is, that I have to get Holly and Ted together. To make them see that they’re perfect for one another.

Hmmm.

Again, just for a second, I question whether I’m doing the right thing. I think about Marc. And about Alexa and her email. And my gut. But, no. I can’t think about those things. Because I know I’m right. I think. Remember, Nessa, it’s darkest before dawn. This is the complicated bit. It’ll all work out in the end. And once I get Holly and Ted together and everyone’s happy and can see that I was right all along, they’ll all pat me on the back. And thank me. Won’t they? Again, just for a second, I pause, my eyes on the bathroom door, remembering how unhappy my dad was tonight.

Stop it, Nessa. Just stop it.

Right. That’s it. Time to get serious. None of this turning up at the same place at the same time rubbish anymore. I need a cracker of an idea to get Holly and Ted together. Once and for all.