Golden Girl (6 page)

After breakfast, JJ beckoned me into the office. ‘Come with me. I’m just going to check my emails – you can do yours too, if you like.’

Pia and Alisha seemed fine – they were messing about with each other’s make-up bags, trying out the contents. Most of Alisha’s make-up was Chanel, while Pia’s was a mix
of makes: No 7, Mac, Bobbi Brown.

I followed JJ into the computer suite and sat by his side as he went through his email inbox. He didn’t seem to mind that I was looking over his shoulder. He read a few messages and then
his phone bleeped that he had a couple of texts.

‘Alexei says hi. He’s on his way to France,’ said JJ. ‘Says he wishes he was with us.’

‘I don’t think he knows
what
he wants half the time,’ I said. ‘Like, he went out with Flo for a while then said he didn’t want a committed relationship, but
now all he ever goes on about is wanting a girlfriend.’

‘Maybe he just wants to meet the right one,’ said JJ and looked deeply into my eyes in a way that made my insides liquefy. ‘Nothing wrong with that.’ He reached out for
my hand just as Mrs Lewis came in to collect some papers, so putting an end to anything happening.

He glanced back at his phone and smiled at the screen as Mrs Lewis went back out. He showed me what he was looking at. It was an image of a stunning and curvy Indian girl who looked just a bit
older than me.

‘Who’s that?’ I asked.

‘Shreya. Haven’t you heard of her?’

I shook my head.

‘She’s a big star in India. A teen music sensation. Had her first hit when she was thirteen and now she’s getting into acting. She’s had a few scenes in the movie
Dad’s in.’

‘Do you know her?’

‘We’ve met a few times. Once in LA, once in India ages ago. She was just texting to say hi.’

I glanced back at the screen. It was more than hi. She’d written:
can’t wait to see you again.
And she was beautiful, with a perfect body, perfect hair and a perfect smile. She
seemed to be looking straight into me.

JJ must have noticed my reaction because he squeezed my hand. ‘Hey, don’t look so worried. She’s just a friend, hardly even that.’

I squeezed back. ‘I’m not worried.’

When JJ went to take a shower, I told Pia about the text.

‘Who are you talking about?’ asked Alisha when she came back in from her shower in the other bathroom.

‘Someone called Shreya,’ said Pia. ‘She just texted JJ.’

‘Oh her. She’s always texting him. I wouldn’t worry, Jess. She’s way too high maintenance for him. Such a drama queen. Apparently she’s been a real pain on the
shoot. Always wanting to do it her way and no good at taking direction.’

‘Why’s she texting JJ?’

‘She collects boys. Probably wants to add him to her list of conquests, but he’s so not interested.’

We spent our last few hours on the plane reading glossy magazines and listening to music but as we took our seats for landing, my mind kept going back to the photo of Shreya. It niggled away at
me. She collected boys. If there was nothing to worry about, then why was she sending JJ pictures of herself? It sounded to me like he was next on her hit list.

I started to fall in love with India the moment we left the airport. On the journey into town, the Lewises donned their shades then sat back in the car, as though the scenery
we were driving through was nothing out of the ordinary, but Pia and I had our noses pressed up against the windows, taking it all in. Everything I looked at was worthy of a photograph. Indian
women in jewel-coloured saris riding bicycles, children waving as we passed by, a lorry in front of us painted bright yellow, red and green and adorned with garlands and tinsel, carved temples and,
above it all, the blue, blue sky.

The closer we got to the town, the more crowded the streets became and only a few drivers seemed to be sticking to any kind of lane system, or any kind of pavement. There were cars, taxis and
buses all packed to bursting, with people hanging out of windows, others sitting on top of the vehicles, and all the time the traffic going in every direction and battling for space. There were
more mopeds than I’d ever seen in my life, honking and tooting as they wove their way in and out of it all.
They certainly know how to share
, I thought, as I watched a family of four
sail past on a moped, beeping their horn loudly as an ox almost walked into them. I wished I hadn’t put my camera in my luggage because I wanted to record it all to show Charlie and Dad when
I got back. I quickly snapped a few photos with my phone, but they weren’t up to much.

When we finally reached Udaipur, it seemed like the whole world was out on the streets; not just cars, bikes, buses and mopeds, but also open taxis that JJ told us were called auto rickshaws or
tuk tuks, which swerved their way in-between the rest of the traffic, narrowly missing each other.

‘Oh my God!’ I gasped, as I noticed an elephant stroll by, followed by a family of pigs who scuttled under him then dived down an alleyway like they knew exactly where they were
going. And soon there were cows, dogs and chickens too.

‘You could never feel lonely here,’ Pia commented, as we passed a group of men sitting at a table, smoking and chatting, their stalls behind them overflowing with clothes, scarves,
bags and art prints. ‘Everyone lives and works outside, unlike the UK.’

‘Probably because of the sun,’ I said, as I looked up and saw an enormous film poster featuring Shreya beam down at us from ten metres up in the air.

Pia nudged me. ‘Big sister is watching yoooou,’ she whispered.

A sharp left took us down a quieter street, then we reached the arrival area for our hotel. As we drove into the car park on the shores of Lake Pichola, it felt like an oasis of calm after what
we had just come through.

‘It’s like going from a fridge into a sauna,’ I said as we got out of the cool, air-conditioned car into the baking sunshine. I glanced at my watch. It was just after five in
the afternoon, Indian time. Pia took a photo with her camera-phone of the vehicle that had brought us from the airport. It was a maroon and cream vintage Bentley with soft leather seats inside.
Fabulous. Pia sent the photo off to Henry. He’d love it and so would his dad. Cars were their thing.

A tall Indian man in white turban and gold Indian-style uniform stood with a large fringed parasol outside a small tent-like building next to the lake, which sparkled in the late afternoon sun.
He came forward to greet us and ushered Mrs Lewis inside. ‘Won’t be moment,’ she said over her shoulder.

JJ took my hand and led me over to the lake. He pointed at a white marble and mosaic palace glistening in the centre of the water.

‘That’s the Taj Lake Palace,’ he said. ‘Remember it from the slideshow?’ he asked.

It looked like a giant two-tier wedding cake with pillars and arches around the sides. ‘That’s the hotel we’ll be staying in,’ he said. ‘It was originally built
around 1743 as the royal summer palace and covers the whole island, which is why is appears to be floating.’

The hotel and view were straight out of a fairytale. I glanced at JJ. Tall and handsome with a high forehead and sculpted cheekbones, he was dressed in a white T-shirt and linen trousers and was
wearing his usual Ray-Ban shades.
He has a noble face, I decided. I have to be dreaming. Me, Jess Hall, staying in a real palace. And I have my very own prince to hang out with.

‘Cool, huh?’ said Pia, coming to join us.

‘It’s beautiful,’ I agreed.

Alisha nudged her brother. ‘JJ’s Mr Norman Know-It-All,’ she teased. ‘He knows all about the history of this place – in fact, anywhere we go in the
world.’

JJ smiled. ‘So? I like history. And did you know this hotel was used as a location for the movie
Octopussy
?’

‘The Bond film?’ asked Pia. ‘I’ve seen that!’

JJ nodded. ‘It was also used in a TV series called
The Jewel and the Crown
.’

I looked out over the view again. ‘It’s stunning,’ I said. ‘Heavenly.’ On one side of the lake were mountains, on the other, to our right, was an even bigger palace
than the one in the middle of the water. It was vast, the white walls turning a honey-rose colour in the late afternoon sun, and it appeared to go on forever with domed turrets, terraces and
balconies overlooking the lake. ‘What about that place?’

JJ followed my gaze. ‘That’s the City Palace,’ he replied. ‘Actually, it’s a series of palaces, the first one built in 1559. There’s a scene in Dad’s
movie which is being shot inside it, so I’m sure we’ll have a chance to go and take a look around tomorrow before the cameras start rolling. It’s amazing, full of great art and
wall paintings. There are actually two hotels in there too. They used to be royal guesthouses. One of the palaces was apparently built in memory of a beautiful princess who poisoned herself to stop
rival princes battling for her hand in marriage.’

‘She
poisoned
herself?’ asked Alisha.

‘So the story goes,’ said JJ.

Alisha rolled her eyes. ‘I would have told them all to stop squabbling and get a life. Fancy killing yourself over a load of dumb boys.’

‘Exactly,’ said Pia. ‘
So
sixteenth century.’

‘Lots of the hotels here used to be palaces, and homes to maharajas,’ JJ said, ‘and Udaipur is known as the most romantic city in India.’ He squeezed my hand as he said
‘romantic’, a slight movement that Alisha clocked immediately.

She put two fingers in her mouth and fake-gagged. ‘Oh God, slush alert. Are you two going to be mooning over each other the whole time we’re here?’

I laughed but from the small bit of Udaipur I’d seen, I could already see why it was known for being romantic. It was the most beautiful place I’d ever been to and the City Palace
had immediately captured my imagination. I wondered what had gone on there over the centuries – apart from the princess who’d poisoned herself – what other dramas and love
affairs.
I am going to love it here
, I thought, as I got out my sunglasses. Even the weather felt perfect: sunshine with a gentle breeze. I breathed in deeply, I wanted to remember this
moment forever. All I needed to make it a hundred per cent perfect would be some time alone with JJ, maybe on a balcony at one of the palaces, maybe on a terrace overlooking the lake.

‘The boat’s ready,’ Mrs Lewis called from inside the tented area, so we trooped in to join her and Vanya who had travelled in a car just behind ours.

Minutes later, we took our places in a small speedboat which was open at the sides but canopied on top. The padded seats were covered with Indian cushions and we sat back to enjoy the ride.

‘What a great way to get there,’ I said, as we whooshed through the water towards the hotel.

‘It’s the
only
way to get there,’ said JJ. ‘The hotel owns the boats. They don’t allow non-residents to come ashore, unless they are guests of people staying
there, so you can’t just pop over for a look around.’

‘I really do feel like I’m in a Bond movie,’ said Pia, as she stood up and let the breeze blow through her hair.

Alisha stood beside her. ‘
You only live twice
. . .’ she sang. ‘Dad was in one of the Bond movies, you know. Just a small part, before he was really famous.’

‘Will he be at the hotel?’

‘He will,’ said Mrs Lewis. ‘Maybe we can get some tea, then I suggest we all order room service and get an early night as I doubt any of us slept much last night.’ She
looked at Pia, then me. ‘And you two have to keep your minds fresh for studying.’

Pia grimaced. ‘I’d forgotten about that.’

Mrs Lewis raised an eyebrow and smiled. ‘Well, I hadn’t. I promised your parents.’

JJ shot me a glance. ‘I . . . I might show Jess around a bit if that’s OK,’ he said.

Behind him, and out of their mother’s line of sight, Alisha turned away from us and wrapped her arms around herself, doing a mock smooch. Pia cracked up and JJ smiled. I knew he was
thinking the same as I was. Time alone in the most romantic city in India . . . Who wouldn’t want it? It seemed like we’d have to wait, though, because Mrs Lewis shook her head.
‘Plenty of time for looking around tomorrow,’ she said. ‘I’m not only headmistress for your stay but also your chaperone.’ She was smiling as she said it but I knew
she was serious too. Dad wouldn’t have let me travel to the other side of the world unless he felt completely confident that I wouldn’t be left alone, especially with a teenage boy,
even if he
was
JJ Lewis.

Our boat arrived at the hotel jetty where an Indian man in a red turban and smart navy traditional uniform stepped forward to help us up onto the wide marble terrace outside the hotel. A red
carpet led across the open area to the hotel reception, which we could see behind a wall of glass. From an open balcony on the floor above came a shower of rose petals, filling the air with their
gentle scent. I looked up to see the smiling face of a young Indian girl. She put down her basket when she saw me look up. ‘Welcome,’ she called.

We stepped through an open door into the reception area where three ladies in green saris were waiting with round brass trays in their hands. One came forward and placed a garland of golden
flowers around each of our necks. The second, who was carrying a lit candle on her tray, dotted red powder on our foreheads. The third handed each of us an iced pink drink in a tall glass.
‘Passionfruit,’ she said. ‘You like.’