The Honey Queen (43 page)

Her mother never discussed boys or sex with her, or even told her whether she’d been a mere 32AA like Freya before blossoming into the 36C she was now. Gemma never told her anything useful like that.

Instead, Gemma talked about life
Before
.

Before Your Father Died
and
Before I Was Married.

Before
fascinated her to the extent that she never wanted to talk to Freya about
now.

There was no bitterness in Freya but occasionally she wanted to shake Kaz and remind her that she had her original family, a mother and father. That she hadn’t landed on someone’s doorstep like a cuckoo with her mother’s problems weighing her down like a millstone.

‘You need to wear your push-up bra,’ advised Kaz, looking up from her mirror. ‘I have some chicken fillets with me. If we’re going to a party with eighteen-year-olds, we may as well look the part.’

At a quarter to ten the party was in full swing. Outside, the barbecue was busily burning cocktail sausages because the chef had wandered off. Various people came along and poked the grill, letting sausages fall through to the charcoal below, which was deemed to be fabulous fun.

The barbecue was smoking now, what with the charcoal and the sausages mingled.

Very loud music was coming from huge speakers in the house and Freya wondered who was being DJ, because so far, she hadn’t recognized one single song.

‘Not one,’ she said to Kaz. ‘It’s all mad, experimental stuff. How are we supposed to dance to it?’

‘It’s meant to be a cool party, so no dancing,’ explained Kaz, who was wearing the skinny jeans that no longer really fit her about the belly but which she’d squeezed into painfully because they made her long legs look even longer. Her middle sister’s platform heels finished off the ensemble, although they were half a size too small.

When Freya had mildly remarked that killer heels a person couldn’t stand up in was taking the whole fashion thing too far, Kaz had pointed out that she didn’t intend to be standing up in them for long.

‘The general plan is that he sees me, drags me off to a couch to wrap himself around me and ask where have I been all his life, and then I can get the shoes off.’

‘They can’t be any tighter than your jeans,’ pointed out Freya.

‘Don’t worry – they’re not coming off tonight. He has to know I’m not cheap,’ Kaz said.

‘We definitely do not want him thinking you’re cheap,’ said Freya kindly, doing up two more buttons on Kaz’s shirt, which was already showing off a vast amount of cleavage boosted with the aid of a push-up pink leopard bra from Victoria’s Secret.

Kaz had then ventured into the mass of people necking beer bottles or drinking wine from paper cups. Freya decided that her first really serious older teenage party was a lot like the younger teenage ones, just with older people and more drink. A table was covered with bottles of wine, vodka, beer and strange-shaped bottles with acid-coloured liquids inside.

‘Some sticky liqueur from Ibiza or Mexico or somewhere,’ explained the guy making cocktails behind the table, as Freya picked up a round bottle with a giant pineapple on the side.

‘It smells like paint stripper with a hint of pineapple, but nobody will notice in my cocktails. Do you want one? This is the Purple Passion-ihto.’

He passed her a paper cup filled with purple liquid, a tiny onion and a straw.

‘We’re out of olives. Declan only bought one tin and nobody thought to bring fresh fruit, but who cares, right?’

‘Thanks, but no,’ said Freya, putting the cup down after a sniff. ‘I came on the bike and don’t want to get breathalyzed or anything.’

‘What sort of bike?’ He was interested now.

‘Norton, a classic. Hid it next door or it’ll be robbed,’ Freya whispered. ‘You can really pull girls when you’ve got a bike like that.’

Mr Cocktail Man took a step back.

‘Well, absolutely, whatever you’re having yourself,’ he said, flustered at this notion of Freya being interested in girls.

‘That’s just between you and me,’ she added, with a hint of a growl in her voice. ‘
Mano a mano
.’

‘Yeah,’ he said nervously.

‘We need more lesbians in Redstone,’ Freya said as she and Louise went out to the garden later to escape the heart-thumping beat of the music. ‘I implied I might be gay to the cocktail bloke and he nearly fell over. It’s sexism. Men can be gay now and it’s fine, but women being gay – not so acceptable.’

‘What’s got you into gay rights?’ Louise demanded.

‘I was just thinking.’

Louise and Freya had been sitting outside in the garden – a large pretty garden with a patio, a central lawn and lots of rocks for the alpine plants to climb over – and talking. It seemed as if Decco, or rather Declan, had invited his entire school year along to the party and the semi-detached house was full of tall eighteen- and nineteen-year-olds, out of school and delirious with the free house.

‘I told him he was mad to invite everyone,’ Louise said to Freya, as they watched a girl from their own sixth form throwing up into the rose bushes. ‘Dad will kill him, for a start. Mum said he could only have a party if it was a small one and he promised: only a few friends.’

‘It’s probably going to get worse,’ said Freya thoughtfully as the DJ cranked up the sound once more.

‘Of course it’s going to get worse,’ said Louise mournfully. ‘The thing is, if I ring Mum and Dad, they’ll go ballistic and there’s nothing they can do to stop it because they’re away in Bruges for the weekend. He shouldn’t have got the kegs of beer, I told him that was a big mistake.’

‘Won’t the neighbours complain?’ asked Freya, thinking that if anyone had such a party in the winding terrace where she lived with Opal and Ned, the neighbours would have been around in an instant.

‘We’re the end house on the row,’ pointed out Louise, ‘and on the other side, he’s deaf.’

‘Well, if he wasn’t deaf in the beginning he’s sure to be deaf now,’ Freya said with a grin. ‘I better go and look for Kaz. She’s been gone for half an hour and it doesn’t take that long to go to the loo.’

‘She’s probably trying to find Declan,’ said Louise. ‘She’s crazy about him. That’s the only reason I invited you guys, otherwise I think I’d have gone to stay with my aunt. At least that way, I wouldn’t be to blame for any of the mayhem.’

‘You can come home with us,’ offered Freya.

‘No,’ sighed Louise, ‘I better stay. Somebody has to be able to ring the police if it all gets out of hand and somebody puts it up on Facebook and four hundred more people turn up.’

Freya shuddered. ‘What a complete nightmare. OK,’ she said, hauling herself to her feet, ‘I’m going to find Kaz. We’ll come and say goodbye before we go.’

She went in through the French windows, which were wide open. Inside, some people were dancing but most were sitting on couches or on the floor, snogging, drinking, chatting and giggling. Freya could smell the unmistakable tang of grass being smoked and thought that things would go horribly wrong if the police did have to be called. She decided she’d better tell Louise so that Declan could throw out anyone using drugs at least. Freya didn’t know Louise’s older brother very well but she thought he was a reasonably straight sort of guy.

There was no sign of Kaz in any of the rooms but she did find Declan, sitting on a long, dark, red couch, engrossed in a heavy kissing session with his beautiful girlfriend. Freya didn’t know her name but she looked even more stunning tonight than normal. Poor Kaz, she didn’t have a chance. At that moment, Freya wondered if Kaz’s earlier vow not to have a single beer had been revised. Seeing the love of your life – well, the longed for from a distance love of your life – with his exquisite girlfriend could drive any woman over the edge.

Kaz wasn’t in the kitchen or the hall or even sitting out in the front garden sharing a cigarette with some people who were playing a game of Cluedo and apparently acting out the scenes.

‘Miss Scarlet with the axe in the library,’ shrieked a guy holding up the tiny plastic axe from the box and pretend-whacking someone else over the head to squeals of laughter. Freya went inside again and upstairs. The bedrooms all appeared to be occupied with heaving bodies. Oh hell, she better tell that to Louise too. Things were really getting out of hand and it wasn’t even eleven o’clock. There was a queue for the bathroom and Kaz wasn’t in it. Unless she’d gone home, which was unlikely, it was her in the bathroom.

‘Kaz,’ Freya knocked hard on the door, ‘are you in there? It’s me, Freya. Let me in.’ She banged a few more times and the toilet line grew restless.

‘She’s been in there for ages. I’m bursting to go.’

‘Yeah,’ said someone else, ‘bursting.’

‘There’s a loo downstairs,’ Freya pointed out crossly.

‘Someone got sick in it. It’s gross.’

‘If you’re that bursting, you’ll ignore the sick,’ snapped Freya. Finally there was a noise from the bathroom and Kaz opened the door. It only took one look for Freya to realize that Kaz was very, very drunk and looked as if she’d been crying and throwing up in equal measure. She was lying on the floor and she looked barely conscious.

Seeing her best friend in that position made something inside Freya crack. She relied on Kaz and now Kaz was behaving badly, just the way her mother did – not caring about Freya and doing whatever stupid thing she felt like.

Instead of hauling Kaz out of the bathroom, she ran downstairs. Louise was talking to a tall, slim boy who was every bit as good looking as Declan, but a leaner, much shyer version.

‘Louise,’ she cried. ‘Kaz is stuck in the bathroom and she’s dead drunk. You’ve got to help me, something awful could happen, she could choke on her own vomit. Please help.’

‘Come on, Harry,’ said Louise, getting to her feet. ‘Harry’s my cousin. He’ll help.’

Between them, they got Kaz to the door and tried to wake her up, but Kaz only moaned and slumped her head in a different direction.

Louise and Freya stared at each other in horror.

‘What’s her mother’s number?’ demanded Harry. ‘My mother’s a nurse,’ he said, ‘and she told me what to do if this ever happens. Your friend needs to go to hospital to have her stomach pumped. You call her mum and I’ll call an ambulance.’

‘What?’ said Louise aghast. ‘But the party and what’s going on—’

‘People die when they drink too much,’ Harry said, more softly now. He reached over and patted Freya’s shoulder. She was crying openly now, upset by what was happening. It felt as if the world was rocketing towards the same sort of chaos she’d experienced when her father had died.

‘Sorry,’ she said brokenly. ‘I just can’t stop.’

‘It’ll be OK,’ Harry said firmly and got out his mobile phone. ‘You phone her mum and I’ll do the ambulance.’

It took just ten minutes for the ambulance to arrive, during which time Freya and Louise held on to Kaz and tried to stop her slumping down on to the ground.

‘If she gets sick, she’ll choke and die,’ Freya kept saying in distress.

‘You’ve done great,’ said one of the paramedics when they came. ‘Leave it to us, and it’s good you called. Which of you is her friend?’

‘Me,’ said Freya and looked at Harry.

‘I’m coming too,’ he said. ‘Freya’s my sister and she’s had a shock. She needs me.’

When Opal phoned Freya’s mobile at eleven, worried sick, she and Harry were sitting in the emergency room eating some chocolate Harry had got from the machine. Kaz’s mother had raced in without even noticing them and had been whisked off into the emergency room itself.

After about half an hour, she came out and found them.

‘Thank you,’ she said to Freya and Harry. ‘The doctor told me that somebody had been very wise to phone the ambulance. Thank you.’

Then she went back inside.

Freya was calmer now and could explain to Opal what had happened. She was leaning against Harry and he had his arm around her, which seemed entirely normal and very comforting. She’d never felt like this with a guy before, so close and so comfortable.

‘Ned and I will be there in half an hour,’ Opal said. ‘Sit tight.’

‘They’re coming to pick me up. We can drop you home too,’ Freya said. ‘You were brilliant, you knew just what to do.’

‘Anybody would have done the same,’ he said.

‘No.’ Freya looked at him properly. It seemed inappropriate at such a time, but Freya felt a sudden ripple of attraction towards him. ‘Anybody wouldn’t have. But you did. You saved her life.’

‘All in a night’s work,’ said Harry, grinning, and Freya grinned back.

She wondered how she’d tell people she’d fallen for Harry in the emergency waiting room.

O
n Saturday morning, Frankie woke up early to see the sun streaming in through the ill-fitting curtains. Normally, this might have annoyed her. But not any more. Don’t sweat the small stuff was her new mantra.

She got out of bed quietly and went into the kitchen to make coffee. Then she opened the French windows and went out into the garden to breathe in the scent of fresh earth and newly planted flowers and to let the sun warm her face. Drinking her coffee, she walked around the garden in her slippers, looking at the different plants and vowing to get Lillie to write the names of them all down in a notebook before she went away, because Frankie hadn’t a clue what any of them were.

She was tired. It had been a very strange and exhausting week. First, she’d met with the employment lawyer and they’d discussed the most she could get out of Dutton.

‘You’ve given them twenty-four years of service,’ the lawyer said. ‘I’ll negotiate on your behalf, but I think you’ll get a sizeable sum. I don’t think they’ll have a problem with that, either. In takeovers, one set of executives always have to go and they won’t want the bad publicity of making people redundant and giving them terrible deals after years of loyal service.’

Going into work the next day felt so strange.

Overnight, Dutton had ceased to be the place where her life was a busy, satisfying blur and had become somewhere she was leaving. She was reminded of when Emer was twelve and about to finish junior school. It had felt like the end of an era, realizing how many of those teachers, parents and kids she’d known for years would no longer be in her life.