Read Tales from the Tower, Volume 2 Online

Authors: Isobelle Carmody

Tags: #Young Adult Fiction

Tales from the Tower, Volume 2 (34 page)

BOOK: Tales from the Tower, Volume 2
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We knew it was probably going to take all afternoon to get ready but we were both happy and excited about what we'd decided. By this stage Cinders seemed to be over the disappointment of missing out on the party and was willing to help us get ready, running and fetching for the beautician and even biking to the shops for some anti-frizz serum for the hairdresser.

{6}

The makeup woman had just finished with me when the doorbell rang. I thought it would be the tiny flowers for my hair, special delivery from the florist, but standing on the doorstep was Dorothy, Ella's weirdo old drama teacher, dressed in white as usual. Reine and I had met her a few times. She never said anything much, but we didn't like her. Too sure of herself. Acting like she was somebody when she was only a teacher. She had this long silvery-grey hair, and a million tiny wrinkles around her eyes. Cinders told us early on that Dorothy and her mother had been best friends. Like we were meant to care about that!

This day she was wearing a white linen tunic dress and wide pants and she was holding a shiny white box and leaning on a slim silver cane.

‘Hello Skye,' she said in her weird stage voice.

‘Hello?' I was not in the mood for diversions.

‘May I see Eleanor?' she asked. ‘I have something for her.'

‘Hey, Cind . . . ers,' I called back into the house. There was no answer, so I held out my hands for the box. ‘I'll give it to her,' I snapped. ‘She's pretty busy right now.'

‘Oh no,' the old woman laughed, as though I'd said something totally outrageous. ‘Definitely not, my dear!'

‘
What?
'
I stared at her, furious.
Go play Shakespeare some- where else, why don't you!

‘I will give it to Ella,' she said calmly.

‘But we're all busy, okay?' I snapped. Who did this old bird think she was?

‘I can see that.' She laughed again and stepped towards the threshold, as if she wanted to come in. But I held my ground. For some reason I really didn't want her inside the house.

‘Hey Cinders!' I yelled again. ‘Someone for you!'

This time Cinders poked her head around the door and when she saw who it was, her face lit up and she came over at once.

‘Hi Dot,' she said joyfully.

‘For you, sweetheart.' The woman thrust the box into her hands.

‘What is it?' Cinders asked curiously.

‘You must wait until night falls before you open it.' The old bird chuckled.

‘But what is it?' Cinders asked again childishly. The woman just smiled.

Even though I was so caught up with getting ready, this old chick made me wary.

‘The instructions are inside,' she said in a low voice, like she didn't want me to hear. ‘You will understand when you open the box.' The woman raised her two old hands to Cinders' head and ran them briefly down over her hair to her shoulders. ‘But you must wait until tonight.' Then very abruptly she turned her back and began to hurry away down the path. Cinders stood watching her disappear.

‘Remember, not until tonight,' she called from the gate. ‘Obey the instructions to the letter and all will be well.'

‘Okay.' Cinders was still bewildered. ‘I will.'

Then the woman was gone.

Cinders raised her eyes from the box, a tentative smile of delight on her lips. Needless to say, I did not smile back.

‘Open it now,' I commanded coldly. But Cinders shook her head and immediately retreated towards her room, holding the box tightly to her chest.

‘No,' she said firmly.

‘That woman is a nut!' I yelled after her. But the truth was that she'd made me feel uneasy.

‘I don't care,' came the muffled reply.

I was furious that she would defy me like this.

‘Come out, Ella!' I yelled. ‘Let's see what it is.'

There was no reply.

I stood outside her door fuming, listening to her shifting things around in her little boxroom, knowing she was probably searching for a safe hiding place. I was toying with the idea of barging in and snatching the thing when the doorbell sounded again. This time it
was
my flowers.

‘Cinders!' Reine roared from the other room as I took the flowers from the delivery boy and signed the docket. ‘Hurry up! This nail polish is dry and I need the top coat.'

‘Coming.' Cinders edged out of her room warily and went to Reine. If it had been any other day I would have made damned sure I found out what was in that box right away, even if I'd had to break through whatever barriers she'd set up, but I was diverted by the party preparations. By the time the hairdresser had started threading the flowers through my hair, the whole incident had simply slipped my mind.

{7}

It was so wonderful to be back in the world of huge houses and exquisitely decorated rooms, the world of enormous gardens all lit up with candles and lamps, of beautiful champagne and tables groaning under the weight of delicious food! Best of all it was wonderful to be back among the silly talk of rich people. I'd missed it so much!

Reine and I entered tentatively. We weren't sure how the old crowd would treat us. But you know, just being there seemed to make us respectable again! The fact that Josh, whom everyone loved and admired, had invited us was enough. No one brought up Dad or our diminished circumstances. No one asked any awkward questions about where we were living now. It was like they'd forgotten what had happened to us, and the odd thing was that it didn't take us long to forget, too! In fact, after the first glass of champagne the last eighteen months slipped away like a bad dream.

It was a lovely warm night and everyone was wearing masks. Reine's and mine were black with some diamantés around the edges, but so many of the others were more ornate, decorated with fake jewels, gold and silver thread and tiny mirrors. All of this added an air of mystery to the night. Reine and I had judged our costumes perfectly. There was Henry VIII and Joan of Arc in her helmet. There were nuns and queens, popes, clowns and two Florence Nightingales. One girl came as a panther because she couldn't think of anyone from the past she wanted to be. Another came as the devil's wife in a shiny red catsuit, horns and a pinned-on tail, with a pitchfork hooked to her back that looked like the real thing! Another came swathed in yards of black muslin and coloured veils, unable to say quite who she was: Mary Magdalene one minute, an Islamic terrorist the next! Although we knew most people – it was our old crowd, after all – it took everyone a little while to work out exactly who was who, but that only added to the fun.

‘Hey, it's Reine and Skye!'

‘The sisters extraordinaire.'

‘No shit, so it is!' William Hollis, whose father owned most of Sydney's water supply along with half the office real estate on the North Shore and who had just flown in from a trekking holiday in South America, was so glad to see us that he was virtually shouting. ‘We haven't seen you two chicks for ages!'

‘You both look
soooo
amazing.'

‘Why thank you, sir!' Reine, in full-on Scarlett mode, was fluttering her eyelids and waving her fan around like crazy, making everyone laugh.

‘Listen to her!'

‘Having a bash next weekend to celebrate the new pad!' This from Karl Peters, whose old man ran Macquarie Bank.

‘Oh?'

‘You've both got to come.'

‘Love to!'

‘Scarlett O'Hara, eh?' Marcus Brown, from Brown's Australia-wide Plumbing, which had just expanded into South-East Asia and was taking the stock market by storm, took Reine in his arms and waltzed her around the room.

‘Frankly, my dear,' he said after they'd circled the room in front of everyone, ‘I
do
give a damn!' There were whoops of delight and shouts of laughter as he knelt and kissed her hand. And so it went. From one group of old friends to another we were welcomed with pecks on the cheek and cries of delight.

I was standing with a group in front of a huge gilt-edged mirror having my photo taken when Kara, my one-time best friend, nestled in beside me.

‘So great to have you back,' she whispered in my ear. (I'd stopped hearing from her about the time Dad hit the front pages.)

‘It's great to
be
back!' I murmured, smiling for the camera and trying not to remember the three-bedroom shit- box in Epping.

‘So everything is . . . okay now?' She had on her wide-eyed expression that meant she actually did
care. Absolutely. No matter that she'd cut me at the last party; she cared. She must have forgotten all the times I'd witnessed the same look changing to one of amusement as soon as some poor loser's back was turned.

‘Absolutely.' I gave her an extra-bright smile just to let her know that I believed her
absolutely
.

‘We all have hard times,' she murmured, before slinging one arm around my shoulders. ‘The main thing is to rise above them.'
Jeez!
A bit rich from someone who was Sienna Miller's clone and had been given a Porsche Boxter for her eighteenth birthday!

‘You're right,' I murmured, deciding then and there to forget about the way she'd cut me dead. ‘It's a matter of
moving on
.'

‘Absolutely. You are going to have to come and stay soon, Skye.'

‘Love to,' I said, meaning it. ‘Absolutely love to.'

After the group photo I caught Reine's eye and we each raised an eyebrow. It was all working out better than we'd expected. In fact, the night was turning out to be a raging success.

The party was held on the upper floor of Josh's family home and it spilled onto a large balcony. It was lovely standing out there with our glasses of champagne, looking out over the city skyline. Waiters in black-and-white uniforms brought around silver trays piled with delicious food. The music was good – a very cool DJ sat in the corner in his sunglasses spinning tracks – but the chatter and laughter were better. They bounced and sang around me in that warm air like sweet rain after a long dry summer.

When I turned back to the house I noticed a small huddle of people surrounding my sister. She was regaling them with funny stories about the business course we'd gone to for the first few weeks of the year, staying well clear of the facts. Then I heard the words
stepsister
and
moron
, followed by hoots of laughter. I didn't
bother to listen too closely.
Reine had always been able to spin a good story. What did it matter if she exaggerated and lied? Our sharp tongues had always made us popular.

‘Can you believe this?' Reine grabbed my arm on my way back from the toilet. Her eyes, ablaze with her success, darted hungrily over the drapes and furnishings and crystal.

‘Oh, I know,' I murmured and took another glass of champagne from a tray. ‘We had all this—'

‘And more,' she finished my sentence, ‘remember?'

I nodded.

‘We
will
get it back,' she said earnestly, ‘I promise you.'

‘How?'

She took my hand briefly and smiled into my eyes.

‘I promise you,' she said once more, ‘it will be ours again.'

‘But how?'

‘We
marry
it,' she hissed, just as though she were telling me some state secret. I began to laugh, then saw she was deadly serious. She was surveying the room slowly and carefully like one of those big cats you see on the nature channel stalking prey, her eyes narrow and cautious under the heavy brows.

‘Right,' I said, trying to sound as confident. Reine was so persuasive, and at that moment I actually believed her. We
would
marry it.

‘See all these hot chicks,' she whispered, waving her fan dismissively at the crowd. ‘Most of them are too stupid to use what they have. Most beautiful girls have no idea where their best interests lie because they've never had to worry – it all falls into their laps. Whereas you and me, babe, we know, right?'

‘Right.' I edged away from her a little, wanting to get back to the fun group I'd been with. The big doors into the adjoining room had just been opened to create a huge space for dancing. A stage had been assembled down one end and a live band was tuning up. I'm a good dancer and I was itching to get onto that polished floor and show everyone what I could do, but Reine held me back.

‘I want you to know that I saw Josh looking at you before,' she said. ‘I mean really looking at you, like you were . . . 
interesting
.'

I was dumb with surprise, but I believed her. Reine didn't tell lies about that kind of thing. This was exciting news.

‘So use it,' she said quickly. ‘See, he's over there. Go and join him.' I looked over and saw Joshua laughing and talking to a small group of guys and a few girls. Reine sniffed and clicked her fingers. ‘Those little chicks are nothing. No competition. Too dumb for a guy like Josh.' One of the girls was dressed as some kind of fifties tennis star, another as a medieval matron and the third as some kind of explorer. Reine seemed to be right, the guys weren't paying them much attention.

‘Maybe I will,' I murmured.

‘Attagirl!' She smiled. ‘I wonder what our lovely step- sister is doing right now,' she said lightly.

‘Well, it's Saturday,' I replied, ‘so she might be taking out the rubbish.' We both began to laugh.

‘Or she might be writing in her new journal.' Reine's eyes were bright with malice, and for some reason that sent a shiver up my spine. I stood tall and pushed my shoulders back. It didn't do to be on the wrong side of my sister.

Holding my head high the way Reine had taught me, I crossed the floor to where Joshua was standing with his friends. He turned to smile at me and the rest of the group moved aside to let me join them, but just then the band launched into their first number. Perfect timing! I took a deep breath and smiled straight up into Josh's face. ‘I simply have to dance,' I said, feigning a confidence I didn't feel. ‘The question is, do I have to do it on my own?' He hesitated for a beat – was it shock or was he annoyed at being interrupted? At that moment I wondered if Reine had fabricated the story of him looking at me with interest. But then his expression changed quickly to a warm smile and he held out his arms.

BOOK: Tales from the Tower, Volume 2
12.23Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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