Paper Alice (12 page)

‘What's been going on here?' he asked. ‘Some kind of fight or something?'

But another voice was coming at me on my left. I turned, to see none other than one of the guys from the group in glamour drag.

‘There you are,' he said, holding out a beer – apparently to me. ‘Sorry I've been so long, but I've been look–'

He stopped, cocking his head, staring at me. I stared back blankly, in spite of myself registering the deep voice issuing incongruously from the pearl-chokered neck. And the sweat seeping through his heavy make-up; his mascara starting to run.

He glanced at the others and then at me again, looking me up and down. ‘Sorry,' he said finally. ‘I thought you were someone else.'

He turned to go, giving a little wave. ‘You've got a twin!' he called, as he walked away.

We stared after him, before Milly murmured, ‘Wilda strikes again!'

She was starting to explain to the others about my double, but I barely heard her. I was craning my neck, peering hard through the crush of people into which he'd vanished.

‘'Scuse me,' I muttered, and then I was off, after the boy-girl.

I launched into the crowd like someone wading into a swamp, pushing people apart like bulrushes. Faces turned, looming in surprise and annoyance as I barged through, muttering apologies, peering this way and that. With only one thought in mind – to catch sight again of that masculine face above the pearls.

Or to find a face with my features, staring back at me.

I
t didn't take me long to realise it was hopeless – the crowd was just so huge. I thought when the band started up again and people moved onto the dance floor it might be easier, but all that happened was the flashing lights started up again, and it became impossible to keep track of anyone for more than a split second. Bodies moved in jerky, disconnected motion, like dancers in a flickering, silent movie.

Except that it wasn't silent. I'd worked my way right up near the band by now, and the noise from the speakers was just about blowing my head off.

I thought I'd headed more or less in a straight line, though I could easily have been going round in circles. Whatever, it was all pretty useless, as the boy in drag could have gone off in any direction. Once I thought I caught a glimpse of someone from his group – feminine features above a black bow tie. I pushed towards her, but with the next flash of light she seemed to have gone. There were only a different lot of random faces, blinking palely on and off above twitching bodies.

A small balloon of panic was starting to expand in me; I wondered whether I'd be able to find my way back to Milly and the others. I spun round again, nearly overbalancing . . .

And then I saw her.

I gave a little cry. It was like being stabbed – bang – in the chest. She was four or five metres away, dancing in a sea of people. She turned towards me and it seemed as though I were glimpsing myself.

My hair, my eyes, my mouth.

And then the bodies moved again and my view was blocked. I stood there, breath frozen, as though I'd been reduced to just a pounding heart.

And still I couldn't see her. I started in her direction, in a slight curve, so that I'd come up to her sideways, not bang on. But everything was moving, the dancers and the lights, and when I reached the spot where I thought she'd be, she wasn't.

I glanced wildly about, attracting more strange looks. Then I started moving out in different directions, like the spokes of a wheel. Probably never ending up where I'd started from.

Suddenly I thought I caught a glimpse again – just for a second, in a spotlight. The back of her head anyway – that fair, spiky kind of hair like mine . . .

I plunged forward and crashed straight into someone else.

‘Ugh!'

‘Look out–'

The other girl and I took a step back and looked at one another. And even in the dim light the face was instantly recognisable. It was May, housemate of Chet and Paul.

‘Oh,' I said, ‘hey–'

Of all the people to (literally) bump into, why her? That whole scene in her kitchen that evening came rushing back – my dorkish behaviour, Chet's amusement, and her just standing there like some kind of judgemental mother hen.

I must've been looking quite crazed by now, because she was staring at me, touching my arm.

‘Hey,' she cried, into my ear. ‘You OK? You look as though you've seen a ghost!'

I stared back at her, my mind all over the place.

Is that what I
had
seen? Or had I just imagined Wilda? Was that what ghosts were – creations of your mind?

I suddenly felt quite frightened.

May was still looking at me. Probably thinking I was off my face on something, I thought vaguely.

‘Come on,' she said finally, taking me by the elbow, ‘come and sit down.'

‘No,' I murmured, ‘I'm OK . . .'

But she wasn't going to be argued with. ‘I'll be over with the others,' she called over her shoulder to whoever she was dancing with. And then she was steering me through the crowd, in roughly the opposite direction to Milly. Out into the annex on the other side, away from the dancing, where there were a lot more tables and chairs, all taken.

Three guesses as to who was in the group she took me to. There were quite a lot of them, crowded around a candlelit table, a couple of them perched on laps. The first face I recognised was Chet, then Lily, Andy's girlfriend, and then, of course, sitting across the table, Andy himself.

At least there was no sign of that compere from the Cave, Spiro.

Anyway, my mind was still so churning with Wilda it was like seeing them all underwater, or in a dream. No wonder May thought I was on something.

‘Look,' she announced, ‘who I found, wandering about like a lost sheep!'

‘Why, it's Alice!' said Chet, looking at me with interest. ‘Or are you someone else tonight?'

Thump. Here we go again, I thought miserably.

May was coming in over the top of him. ‘Are you lot going to shove up and make room?'

‘Oh,' I murmured, ‘don't wor–'

But they were already shuffling around and pushing chairs together; someone went and found another seat. Lily ended up shifting up one – onto Chet's lap. I glanced at Andy, but he didn't seem to notice.

Of course, right at that moment he looked up, caught my eye and grinned. I gave an awkward half-smile back. Despite my frazzled state, registering that he did look pretty cool, from the waist up dressed in nothing else but a black bow tie and waistcoat.

May was gesturing at the empty seat, motioning for me to sit.

‘Oh . . .' I glanced over my shoulder, ‘I should really get back–'

‘No,' several of them cried. ‘Sit!'

‘Just for a little while,' added Lily, smiling at me. She looked stunning, in a black sequinned number with a V-neckline that plunged right to her waist. A headband of pearls around her short dark bob gave her a 20s, flapperish kind of look.

So I was forced to sit. Or rather, perch, on the edge
of my chair like some kind of nervous bird, set to take flight.

‘Like a drink?' Chet asked.

‘Oh, no,' I said, shaking my head.

Silence, apart from the music. They all, with the exception of Andy, seemed to be looking at me. He'd been engaged in conversation by the girl sitting on his left.

‘So,' said May suddenly, ‘they gave you a hard time the other night – at the Cave.'

‘Sure did!' cried Lily. She nodded in Andy's direction. ‘Bastards!' she added cheerfully.

If Andy had heard, he wasn't letting on. He was still talking to the other girl. Who was tall and toothy and looked, I vaguely registered, a bit like a younger version of Jamie Lee Curtis.

‘I felt so
sorry
for you,' Lily went on.

I gave a harsh little laugh.

‘So did I!' I said, then realised how dumb this sounded. I swallowed. ‘Were . . . you all there?'

Chet, twirling his bottle between his palms, smiled.

‘Yep.'

I should just get up and go, I thought – right now. My armpits were suddenly slippery with sweat. I wondered if I'd remembered to put on deodorant.

Then I had an even worse thought. What if they were all in cahoots with Wilda? That would be why May had virtually frogmarched me over here. Any second now my ‘sister' might pop up and confront me . . .

‘So–' started Chet, leaning towards me, but at that moment the chick who'd been monopolising Andy turned to the rest of us.

‘Come on,' she cried, grabbing his hand, ‘let's dance!'

‘Yeah,' said a couple of others; they started pushing back their chairs.

Presented with this wonderful excuse to escape, I was the first up. Wanting to just melt away, into the throng; make a bolt for the doors, asap. But most of the others were up pretty quickly too, and before I knew it I was being swept along in a posse of them, heading for the dance floor. It felt a bit like being a defector in an old Cold War photo from the 50s, surrounded by a crowd of secret service agents.

When we reached the floor the next number was an old Groove Armada favourite. So in spite of myself I launched into it. Just this one, I thought, and then I'll slip away.

But by the end of it I was starting to enjoy myself. The band was great and the crowd seemed to be on a communal high. And in that sea of strange faces the group dancing around me was beginning to seem almost familiar, almost like friends. Chet had dropped his cool persona and was getting right into it, May's stern look had dissolved into smiles and laughs, and Lily, who seemed really nice, was doing a kind of sister-act boogie with the Jamie Lee lookalike.

Lily didn't appear at all worried about the other girl's blatant interest in Andy. She must, I thought wistfully, feel very secure with him. Then again, with her looks, why wouldn't she be?

Andy was dancing next to them, opposite me. The next thing I knew he'd seized me and was spinning me round in a few old-time dance twirls. I gasped and laughed, almost lifted off my feet, about as wooden as a
shop dummy as he whirled me around. His hand against mine was cool, but his body felt warm and alive, a faintly salty tang coming off his bare skin beneath the waistcoat. I was hopeless – giggling and lagging one step behind. And then the music stopped and we stood there for a second, puffing and laughing.

Then I became aware that the JLC girl, whose name, I'd discovered, was Kimberley, was regarding me less than enthusiastically. As though, in fact, I was a possible carrier of some new and fatal strain of bird flu.

Andy let go of my hand and I moved away a bit, closer to Lily. I made sure I kept my distance from him during the next number, and the next. I didn't want Lily to think I was coming on to her boyfriend.

Kimberley, on the other hand, had no such qualms. She didn't actually lie down in front of him and strip, but with all her head-tossing, laughing and hip-swivelling she might as well have. And I have to admit, she had the body for it, shown to perfection in a dress that was more one-piece cut-out bathing suit than ball gown. She couldn't help but attract a number of male stares, Andy's included.

And still Lily didn't seem to notice, or care. I kept waiting for her to stake her claim on him – take his hand, or put her arm around him, but she didn't. I suddenly wondered if Kimberley was even aware of their relationship.

I knew I should be getting back to Milly and the others, but somehow I couldn't seem to extricate myself. And by now didn't really want to. Anyway, I thought, they'd all be dancing and I'd never find them.

And somewhere in the crowd was Wilda. Or an apparition of Wilda.

I couldn't face the idea of striking out through the mob again; it felt safer to stay put. But when the set finally ended and our group started drifting towards the annex again, I hesitated, glancing vaguely round. Suddenly feeling like a dork all over again.

‘Will The Boy be worrying?'

It was Andy, right at my shoulder. I gave a little laugh, shaking my head.

‘He's not even here,' I said. ‘He's–' I rolled my eyes, ‘–at a cricket dinner!'

I felt a small prickle of guilt at my disloyalty.

‘Nothing wrong with a good cricket dinner . . . and a night with the boyss!' His pronunciation of this last word leaving no doubt as to his view of such functions.

I laughed. ‘Yeah – no females allowed – thank god! But–' I added, glancing over my shoulder again, ‘my friend will be wondering where on earth I've got to.'

‘Message her,' said Lily. ‘Tell her to come over here.'

In light of the lost shoe episode, I didn't know whether that would be such a good idea.

‘She'll never find us,' I said. ‘But at least she'll know I'm still here . . .'

We threaded our way through the crowd back to the table, Andy on one side and Lily, her arm hooked through mine, on the other. My small rush of the warm-and-fuzzies enhanced, I have to say, by Kimberley's being forced to trail behind.

When we reached the table and I pulled out my phone, I discovered the battery was flat. I'd forgotten to charge it before I left.

‘Here,' said Lily, fishing for hers. ‘Use mine.' She perched herself on the arm of Andy's chair. ‘Is your friend all on her own?'

‘No, she's with a group.'

I didn't want to mention her name in front of Andy, but he was onto it anyway.

‘Not the famous Milly?'

I looked at him and made a face. The gleam in those eyes was extra bright.

‘How'd you guess?'

Lily slid an arm around his neck and leaned forward, like a school bag on a hook.

‘Who's Milly?'

Part of me registered this pair-bonding gesture with a little pang. A pang of triumph, I told myself, at the warning to Kimberley. But the latter was laughing with the guy next to her and didn't seem to notice.

‘Milly,' Andy told Lily cheerfully, ‘is why Alice's here with us in the first place. She's the hidden link.'

I frowned at him; he grinned back at me.

‘Milly's the shoe-loser,' he continued. ‘She leaves them under strange beds. Then she sends in Alice here to retrieve them.'

‘
Oh . . .
' I was half-outraged, half-laughing.

‘Alice makes
lots
of new friends this way, don't you, Al?'

Our eyes met properly, and there was a tiny, glorious detonation of sparks and gunpowder. Before I yanked my gaze away and busied myself with reaching over and thumping him on the arm.

‘Ow!' He was laughing, fending me off. ‘Talk about violent–'

‘Hit him harder!' cried Lily, putting her hands around his neck and pretending to strangle him. They were tiny, I noticed and didn't go right round. ‘He's horrible!'

And a terrible flirt to boot, I thought grimly. I wondered how on earth she put up with him; she seemed so unfazed by all his carry-on.

By pretending not to notice, I supposed.

By the time I'd finished messaging Milly, Lily had stood up and was chatting to someone nearby, and Kimberley had started in on Andy again. And he didn't seem to object – what boy would? She was leaning in towards him, twisting herself this way and that as she laughed, affording the best angle on her cleavage. Fingering her hair and drawing his eyes into her own.

My throat went tight with anger, made all the worse because I knew my real, deep-down feelings started not with an ‘a', but with a great big, green-eyed ‘J'.