For anyone who has ever felt they’re not cool enough.

You’re wrong.

First published in paperback in Great Britain 2017

by Egmont UK Limited

The Yellow Building, 1 Nicholas Road, London W11 4AN

Text copyright © 2017 Katy Birchall

The moral rights of the author have been asserted

First e-book edition 2017

ISBN 978 1 4052 7827 0

eISBN 978 1 7803 1702 1

www.egmont.co.uk

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library

Typeset by Avon DataSet Ltd, Bidford on Avon, Warwickshire

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

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Contents

Cover

Title page

Dedication and Copyright

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

19

20

21

22

23

24

25

26

27

28

29

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

‘You can’t keep me trapped up here forever!’

Jess folded her arms, looking very pleased with herself. ‘Sure I can.’

‘Let me down at once!’

‘Let me think about that.’ She acted thoughtful for a moment, stroking her chin, and then shrugged. ‘No.’

I huffed as my best friend looked up at me, a victorious grin on her face.

‘You know, Anna,’ Jess began, ‘it’s not difficult. You tell me exactly what happened yesterday and I will put back the ladder so you can get down from the attic. Everyone is a winner.’

‘I don’t see how I’m a winner in this situation,’ I argued, shining my head torch about me just in case there happened to be a spare ladder handily up here somewhere. ‘I’m going to tell Dad to never open the front door to you again. I hope you have thought through the consequences of your actions.’

‘I have considered them deeply.’ She smiled, bending down to get her camera out of her bag. ‘I’m pretty sure this is worth it.’ She pointed the lens up and I heard a sharp click as I peered down angrily at her.

‘Well, that is definitely a keeper,’ she laughed, examining the image. ‘You look so cross! Also, you are very pale. Wow, like a ghost peeking out from the darkness of the spooky attic. Good thing we’re going on a school trip where you’ll see a bit of sun. You could really use some vitamin D.’

‘You know, you are being extremely insulting.’

‘I guess the head torch isn’t helping,’ she continued, completely ignoring me. ‘With that on you look like a mole. A ghostly mole.’

‘Seriously. Very rude.’

‘Actually, maybe more like a ghostly guinea pig. I can’t tell. Let me go ask your dad what he thinks. You wait there.’

‘WHY ARE WE FRIENDS?’

As Jess walked off to consult Dad on which rodent I resembled, I kicked myself for listening to him this morning when he insisted that my big suitcase must be stored away in the attic and then for thinking it would be a good idea to go and get the stupid suitcase myself instead of asking him to get it for me.

Of course, I couldn’t have guessed that while I was rummaging about in said attic, head torch attached, that my unfunny best friend would come over and steal the ladder, using it as a weapon to gain information because I had refused to tell her some minor details about a date.

Well, I wasn’t going to let her win, I decided as I heard Jess’s footsteps returning to the landing. I would have to find another way of getting down. There wasn’t much in the attic that could help me in this predicament but I’d have to be resourceful and think outside the box.

‘Your dad reckons you look more like a ghostly guinea pig than a mole, but I’m still undecided. How’s it going up there?’ Jess called as I tried not to sneeze from all the dust I was disturbing in the search for materials to aid my escape.

‘What is going on?’ I heard my dad ask, attempting to join in on the fun.

‘I’m refusing to let Anna down from the attic until she tells me all about her date with Connor yesterday,’ Jess explained.

‘Right,’ Dad replied as though that was totally a rational thing to do. ‘You haven’t read about it in the papers or online? I can show you if you like. It’s just awful.’

‘THANKS, DAD,’ I yelled.

‘I don’t trust reporters to give the whole story,’ Jess informed him. ‘But I can’t imagine it was as bad as they made it out to be.’

‘Oh,’ Dad said gravely. ‘It was.’

I groaned. ‘You’re not helping, Dad. Shouldn’t you be working on your book?’

‘I was actually doing some baking.’

‘Classic procrastination. And you always have a go at me when I have homework and I . . . Aha!’ I cried victoriously, coming across some old curtains that Dad had never thrown away.

I shuffled eagerly back to the gaping hole in the floor with my new find and began to lower the curtains down. ‘I am just like those dudes in The Great Escape !’

‘Anna,’ Dad coughed, ‘did you just compare yourself getting out of an attic to British soldiers escaping from a German prisoner-of-war camp?’

‘I will simply tie this material to something up here and climb down it,’ I announced proudly to my audience, ignoring Dad. ‘And, Jess, you thought you were clever! You thought you could defeat me! HA!’

Jess reached out and yanked the curtain hard so that it flew out of my hands and landed in a heap on the floor next to their feet.

‘Oi!’

‘I quite liked these curtains, but your mother forced me to take them down,’ Dad piped up, nudging them with his toe. ‘They might come in handy. Thanks for the reminder that they exist, Anna-pops!’

‘No offence, Mr Huntley, but they look like Dog vomited the sixties on them.’ Jess patted him sympathetically on the arm. ‘Your taste is terrible.’

‘Fine!’ I switched off my head torch in defeat. ‘I’ll tell you about the date and you can put the ladder back.’ I wrinkled my nose. ‘I think I might be losing air supply.’

‘I’ll leave you girls to it,’ Dad chuckled, walking back down the stairs. ‘I look forward to Danny’s arrival when I might hear some sense in this house.’

‘Come on, then.’ Jess reached for the ladder teasingly. ‘Fill me in.’

‘I was dressed as a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle.’

‘Which makes total sense for a first date with the boy you’ve liked forever.’

‘Right.’

‘I was joking. What were you thinking going on a date with Connor dressed as a TURTLE?’

‘Because it was the London Comic-Con!’ I protested as she shook her head. ‘I went as Michelangelo. He’s the best one. You know, the one who likes all the pizza and says stuff like “cowabunga!”’

Jess looked at me blankly.

‘Really? Nothing?’ I sighed and carried on. ‘So there I was dressed as a turtle and Connor was dressed as a Jedi and at first when I saw him I was kind of disappointed because I wanted us to match and I’m pretty sure that when I said we should go as Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles he agreed that was a really good idea, but he must have changed his mind at the last minute or maybe the shop had run out of green face paint or something. And then I wished that he had told me he’d made a last-minute decision to go as a Jedi because I could have gone as Princess Leia, although her outfit choices are questionable and I don’t think I could have pulled off the hair. I guess I could have gone as R2-D2, though, which would have been quite cute, so he should have told me about changing his mind, don’t you think?’

‘Oh, totally.’

I squinted at Jess, trying to work out whether she was being sarcastic or not. ‘Anyway, the long and the short is that when we got to Comic-Con, I tripped over and knocked into the leg of someone dressed in a giant Iron Man suit, who in turn fell into the side of the big Marvel comic-book stand, which then collapsed on to everyone inside it and some of the smaller stands surrounding it. A pretty cool example of the domino effect, really. I mean, if we’re looking for positives.’ I paused. ‘Can I have the ladder back now?’

‘So how did you leave it with Connor?’ Jess asked, neglecting my request and looking flabbergasted.

‘It was so chaotic, what with me running about apologising to everyone and helping people up, checking they weren’t dead and stuff . . .’ I sighed. ‘I got a bit caught up in explaining everything to the organisers and asking people not to take photos of me, so I’m not really sure what Connor was doing. He was probably helping people out from under the canvas. I kind of abandoned him a little.’ I buried my face in my hands at the memory of it all. ‘Eventually, he found me and we waited outside in silence for Dad to pick us up.’

‘He didn’t say anything?’

‘Not really. I think we were both in shock still. He sent me a nice message after we dropped him off, though. He said that he had a really great time, that I wasn’t to worry about knocking over the Marvel stand, that he thought it was actually very funny and that he was disappointed he might miss out on such dramatic events when I’m in Rome.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘He must think I’m such a klutz. I finally get a boyfriend and I’m already screwing it all up.’

‘What did you say?’ Jess whipped up her head to look at me. ‘Why would Connor miss out on events in Rome?’

‘He’s not going. Didn’t I tell you that bit already? He told me yesterday right before I took down Iron Man.’

My heart sank a little all over again as I filled Jess in on Connor’s plan for the summer holiday. A plan that turned out to be the opposite of what I was expecting. ‘I thought we’d be spending two romantic weeks in Rome together – albeit with everyone else there – but he pulled out of the school trip so that he can work on his second comic book.’

‘He did what ? No way!’ Jess put her hands on her hips. ‘That is not cool!’

‘It’s very dedicated of him,’ I said sternly, reminding myself not to be so selfish. ‘I am fully supportive of his decision.’

Jess snorted. ‘Whatever. He couldn’t take two weeks out of his comic-book drawing schedule to go on an awesome holiday with his friends and girlfriend?’

‘Excuse you, but as a fellow talented artist, you should surely be the most understanding when it comes to sacrificing a social calendar for your creations. Photography projects surely come before holidays.’

‘Wrong, you philistine,’ she sniffed. ‘The best work comes from capturing moments of truth, for example photographing friends having the time of their lives on their summer holiday, not shutting yourself in a room away from everyone. Tell Connor he will be missing out on inspiration.’

‘I will be sure to pass on the message.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘Now, can you put the ladder back?’

‘Yeah, sure, I just can’t believe . . . Hang on.’ Jess held up her hand and sniffed the air. ‘What is that?’

‘What?’

‘I think I can smell –’

‘Hey, girls!’ Dad called up the stairs. ‘Brownies fresh out the oven! Any takers?’

Without a moment’s hesitation, Jess let go of the ladder and darted down the stairs. ‘Yes, please! I’m starving!’

‘Jess? JESS?’ I called desperately, listening out for her footsteps coming back up the stairs. ‘JESS! I need the ladder! I’m still up here! Is anyone listening?’

I switched on my head torch and a moth fluttered by.

I hate my life.

It turns out that, when it comes to packing, asking your two best friends to come over and help you is very unproductive.

Especially when the two best friends in question are Jess and Danny.

‘What is THIS?’ Jess held up one of my T-shirts. ‘You can’t bring this.’ She threw it away from her dismissively.

My yellow Labrador, Dog, equally as unhelpful with packing, immediately galloped excitedly across the room to fetch it.

‘Hey, Anna,’ Danny said before I had the chance to chastise Jess for causing more mess, ‘one of your dad’s jumpers got mixed up with your stuff.’

‘That’s not one of Dad’s,’ I huffed, snatching the jumper from him and holding it to my chest. ‘It’s mine.’

‘Oh right.’ He paused. ‘It’s nice. Very . . . trendy?’

Jess sniggered. ‘This is nice. You can bring this.’ She plonked a summer dress into my open suitcase lying on the floor.

‘You guys are worse than Marianne,’ I sighed, slumping down on to my bed and encouraging Dog to hop up and join me. ‘You’re all a nightmare.’

‘Yes, it must be so hard when your dad is marrying a super-famous actress and your future stepsister just happens to be Marianne Montaine, the most famous It Girl in Britain, who is able to give you fashion advice,’ Jess said, rolling her eyes. ‘What a tough life you lead.’

I narrowed my eyes at her. ‘I don’t remember you getting trapped in an attic for hours.’

‘It was about ten minutes,’ she argued. ‘And that was your own fault for being so uncooperative.’

‘It’s lucky you arrived when you did, Danny. A few more minutes and I might have passed out from inhaling too much dust.’

He laughed and came to sit next to me on the bed, leaving Jess flinging around clothes from the pile spilling out of my wardrobe, and allowing me to rest my head on his shoulder. ‘Is that the one about Helena?’ he asked, pointing at the glossy magazine sitting on my bedside table.

‘Yeah.’

I passed it to him so he could admire the picture of my future stepmother wearing a sparkling green sequin dress, her hands on her hips, the wind machine blowing her glossy hair out and an easy-going smile framing her pearly white teeth. ‘It’s weird to think that she’s on the front cover of magazines,’ Danny said, ‘a famous movie star with a legion of fans . . . and then at the same time she’s just Helena, the lady your dad is getting married to. Big year for you.’

Um, just slightly. A big year for most people would be, I don’t know, passing all your exams with flying colours, for example, winning an academic school prize, maybe, or riding an elephant on holiday, perhaps.

So far this year, this is what has happened to me:

1. I set someone on fire.

2. My dad went to interview a famous actress, fell in love with her and then got engaged to her. Without my permission, I might add.

3. I started getting photographed for websites and newspapers all the time.

4. They said I was an It Girl, because my soon-to-be stepsister was an It Girl and we became really good friends, even though she gets compared to Audrey Hepburn in the press and I get compared to ghostly moles and guinea pigs by my friends.

5. I got stuck in a waterfall. Upside down.

6. I got stuck in a plant pot. Bottom first.

7. I got a boyfriend. Which is hard to believe when considering the above.

8. I went on a date with my FIRST EVER BOYFRIEND! Then I destroyed the venue.

‘You’re missing something,’ Jess said when I mentioned all this in order to demonstrate Danny’s amazing power of understatement.

‘I know –’ Danny clicked his fingers – ‘singing terribly in front of the whole school and no one clapping and it was really awkward.’

‘No, that’s not it,’ Jess said thoughtfully.

‘Hitting Connor when he tried to kiss her?’

‘That’s the one!’

As I buried my face in a cushion, Danny put the magazine down and picked up the Italy guidebook my dad had given me, flicking to the Rome chapter.

‘What exactly is there to do in Rome?’ Jess asked, making a disgusted face at one of my skirts and throwing it back into my wardrobe. I held on to Dog’s collar so he couldn’t make a running leap after it. ‘It’s basically all about the food, right? Spaghetti Bolognese and ice cream and stuff.’

Danny threw an irritated look at Jess. ‘Rome is one of the most beautiful cities in the world,’ he muttered, scratching behind Dog’s ears. Dog looked up at him adoringly, his tongue lolling out in appreciation. ‘It is full of history and culture as well as spaghetti Bolognese.’

‘Whatever. I just hope a gorgeous Italian guy asks me out. Maybe we can go on a double date, Anna,’ she said, winking at me.

‘I can’t. Connor isn’t going to Rome, remember?’

‘Oh yeah.’ Jess smiled mischievously. ‘I forgot. He can’t have fun because he’s an artist.’ She threw two pairs of flip-flops into my suitcase. ‘When I meet my dream Italian boy, I’ll just have to go on a double date with Stephanie and Danny, then.’

Danny immediately went bright red at the mention of his new girlfriend, Stephanie, the girl who I mistakenly thought Connor fancied last term because she is really cool and artistic and has one of those blunt fringes that I sometimes find myself staring at because it is just so neat.

‘I’m not going on a double date,’ Danny stated firmly, returning his focus to the guidebook. ‘I wonder if we’ll have time to visit all these recommendations.’

‘Why wouldn’t you go on a double date? Don’t you loooooooove Stephanie?’ Jess pouted and made kissing sounds.

‘Shut up.’ Danny blushed, throwing one of my pillows at her and making her laugh.

She stood up and rushed over, poking Danny’s cheeks and saying, ‘Are you embarrassed, Danny-wanny-woo-woo?’

‘Gerroff !’ he yelled as she continued to squidge his cheeks. Dog got excited at the commotion and felt left out so he headbutted me.

‘OW, DOG!’ I cried, rubbing my forehead. ‘You gave me no warning!’

‘Anna! What is all this racket?’ My door swung open and Dad stood in the doorway, his arms crossed, his hair sticking up all over the place, his eyebrows leaping about his face at every pronounced syllable. He looked at the state of my room in despair. ‘There are clothes everywhere.’

‘Hey, Mr Huntley, you know what would really help our packing?’ Jess looked at him innocently. ‘More brownies. The ones you made this morning were truly remarkable.’

‘Oh. Well, thank you, Jess,’ Dad said, his hard expression softening. ‘Baking is one of my hidden talents.’

I snorted. Dad’s face immediately switched back to his Anna-I-don’t-have-time-for-this-nonsense expression. ‘Anna, I don’t have time for this nonsense. I’m trying to write a chapter about parachutes in my study. It’s not easy when you’re –’

‘I promise we’ll be really quiet now,’ I interjected before he could use this opportunity as an excuse to drone on about how writing another boring book about weapons used in the war is for my benefit because who else is putting bread on the table and blah blah blah. I mean, why can’t he write interesting books like romantic comedies? Why does he have to write bestselling books on OLD stuff ? Probably because he is old.

‘How is the book going?’ Danny asked politely, as though he were actually interested.

‘It’s . . . er coming along, thank you,’ Dad said, hesitating. ‘A lot of pressure with the wedding on top of it all. It would be a bit easier if we weren’t hounded by reporters the whole time, of course, but,’ he smiled, ‘you have to make sacrifices when you’re marrying the woman of your dreams.’

‘Ew, Dad, GROSS!’ I wrinkled my nose.

He laughed. ‘Right, keep the noise down. I better get back to my parachutes.’

‘Are you seriously writing a whole chapter about parachutes? What can you even say? They are just big floaty bits of material.’ Jess shrugged, receiving a pointed look from Danny, which she failed to notice. ‘I don’t think you should write a parachute chapter. If you ask me, Mr H, I would stick to explosions and stuff. Give the people what they want. Throw in a love story and you’re golden.’

‘Thank you, Jessica,’ Dad replied drily. ‘I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your advice on my life’s work.’

Jess smirked.

‘Your dad is seriously cool,’ Danny announced, looking at me enviously when he had gone. ‘He is writing army books AND dating a movie star.’

‘All right, Danny, careful you don’t drool too much on the pillow,’ Jess snorted. ‘It is quite sweet the way he talks about Helena, though. You can tell they’re the real deal even though they’re celebrities.’

‘What does that mean?’ I asked.

‘You know.’ She shrugged and picked up the magazine, flicking to a page inside and pointing at the showbiz news pages. ‘There’s always drama with famous people and their relationships. They fall in love, they split up, they start dating someone half their age, they go into politics, they get back together and so on and so forth.’ She slapped the magazine back on the table again. ‘Maybe it’s because your dad and Helena are older and wiser. It’s very refreshing that they’re different.’

‘Your dad is very patient to put up with all the press attention,’ Danny added solemnly.

‘I guess it is tiring for him, especially when he’s trying to plan a wedding and write a book. And then I make things worse by destroying comic book conventions and the photos are on every front page in the country.’ I felt my cheeks go hot as I remembered the look on Connor’s face when someone insensitively asked him to take a photo of them with me when we were desperately trying to find the exit. At least he laughed about it afterwards. ‘Connor is very patient too. He can have a break from it while I’m away.’

‘Don’t worry, Anna,’ Jess said, moving back to my pile of clothes and beginning to sift through them again. ‘Look at Notting Hill. It worked out for Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts.’

‘Is Connor really not coming on the trip?’ Danny looked disappointed. ‘Who am I going to hang out with when you girls are being . . . girls?’

‘Who am I going to hang out with when you lot are on your double date?’ I said glumly.

Jess rolled her eyes dramatically. ‘Maybe it’s time to make new friends in Rome.’

‘No way.’ I groaned as Jess threw one of my skirts across the room. ‘It’s taken me fourteen years to make friends in England. And I speak the same language here. In Italy they wouldn’t even know what I was saying.’

‘That could work to your advantage,’ Danny said under his breath with a smile before I threw him an evil glare.

‘Stop being so pathetic – you are a particularly awesome friend and . . . Hey, Anna . . .’ Jess hesitated. ‘What’s this? Wait a moment. Is this . . . is this . . . a CAPE?’

She yanked out a large red piece of material from the pile of clothes and held it up so that Danny could get a good look.

‘Does that big glittery gold “A” on it stand for Anna?’ Danny asked, sitting upright and looking mesmerised by it.

‘Uh . . .’ I blushed. ‘No?’

There was a moment’s pause before they both burst into hysterical, uncontrollable, tear-inducing laughter.

Note to self: it’s time to make new friends in Rome.

Things you would normally expect to happen at a bridesmaid-dress fitting:

1. You are cheerily greeted by the bride and anyone else present.

2. You try on your bridesmaid dress.

3. The bride and other bridesmaids tell you how wonderful you look.

4. You all laugh together and excitedly talk about the wedding.

5. Everything goes perfectly.

Things that happen at a bridesmaid-dress fitting when the bride is Helena Montaine:

1. You enter the bride’s house and are greeted by an angry Chihuahua.

2. You are introduced to the prime minister’s wife, who has dropped by for a cup of tea, while an angry Chihuahua slides along the floor behind you, refusing to let go of your shoelace.

3. The angry Chihuahua is removed from your shoelace by a member of the bride’s wedding team, and Fenella, the wedding planner, makes a remark when she sees you about how hairbrushes must have gone out of fashion with teenagers.

4. As you wait for the bride’s daughter to arrive, your own mother decides to fill the time with demonstrations to the bride and the prime minister’s wife of some Chinese martial-art moves she learnt on a recent business trip.

5. Everything is a disaster. And nothing has started yet.

‘Sorry I’m late, everyone!’ Marianne sang as she breezed into the hall, placing her huge designer handbag down on the ground and whipping off her sunglasses, looking every inch the perfect British It Girl as she swept her glossy brown hair away from her face. ‘Did I miss anything?’

‘Tai chi,’ I informed her as she came over to give me a hug. ‘And the prime minister’s wife. She just left.’

‘Sounds like a normal day in Mum’s household.’ She gripped my shoulders. ‘How are you? After the events of your first date, I mean.’

‘Trying to forget about it. The internet won’t let me.’

‘Oh, have I been there.’ Marianne grinned. ‘It will go away. Tom thinks you looked adorable, by the way, in that avocado costume.’

‘I was a turtle, but please thank Tom on my behalf.’

Marianne laughed and went over to say hi to Helena and my mum. Tom Kyzer was her rock-star boyfriend, who she was completely in love with, to the point where she could hardly talk about anything else. As a couple they were a particularly big attraction for the paparazzi – they couldn’t do anything without the whole world knowing about it. But unlike my dad – and even Marianne who was indifferent to it all – Tom seemed to love the attention. ‘I was born for the cameras,’ he once said to me with a wink.

‘So, Rebecca,’ Marianne said to my mum as she ignored Fenella’s Chihuahua yapping at her from the arms of the dismayed-looking man holding him, ‘I hear that, unlike Anna and me, you’ve had the privilege of already seeing the bridesmaid dresses.’

My mum smiled mysteriously. ‘You can never know what it’s going to look like until you see it on.’

‘Speaking of which, let’s get going, shall we?’ Fenella encouraged our two mothers to take their place on the sofa and bustled Marianne and me behind separate screens that had been set up in the sitting room. Two elegant ladies followed me and began to help me undress.

I heard my mum chuckling about something with Helena on the sofa. Mum is a travel journalist and is often the other side of the world on some kind of weird assignment, but she was staying in England for the summer. Even though my parents weren’t together romantically – they never really had been in the first place – they were best friends and Mum completely ADORES Helena. So, when it came to the wedding, Mum was very much involved with the plans and Helena seemed to need her approval on every aspect of it.

‘I can’t wait to see you girls!’ Helena crowed as one of the elegant ladies yanked my hair into a bun to get it out the way and the other one began to unzip a suspiciously large clothing bag hanging up on the screen.

Marianne and I had already been subjected to a traumatic dress moment when Helena made us try on bridesmaid dresses that looked as if they had been snaffled from the cast of Sesame Street, but I had full faith that everyone had learnt from that experience and that Helena’s excellent taste as an international fashion and acting icon would shine through.

Hmm . . . whatever was being pulled over my head by various assistants did feel quite heavy.

And there was a lot of puffing going on.

‘There we are,’ one of the ladies said, panting as though she’d just finished a workout.

‘You look like you belong in a fairy tale,’ the other lady whispered, as she looked me up and down wistfully.

Yeah, for sure, I did look like I belonged in a fairy tale.

AS ONE OF THE GOBLINS.

‘Helena!’ I yelped, as the lady fiddling with the waistline of the dress practically knocked the breath out of me.

‘Divine, isn’t it!’ Helena exclaimed. ‘Diana designed them – she’s with you right now – so you have her to thank for it!’

The lady who had just finished winding me, tilted her head to the side and then smiled. ‘It’s perfect. You look like a princess.’

OK, so I know I’m no fashion designer, but is this woman BLIND?! She had put me in some kind of lavender monstrosity that contained enough netting to catch a pod of killer whales.

‘Let me see!’ Helena squealed, and Mum added, ‘Yes, we’re dying to see.’

Diana shooed me out from behind the screen and at the same time Marianne appeared from behind hers. The expression on her face reflected exactly how I felt.

‘Oh, girls,’ Helena whispered, her eyes welling up.

THANK GOD. She must have realised that this was the worst decision she’d ever made and now it was going to be an absolute pain to change the bridesmaid dresses again – and with hardly any time to go before the Big Day. Plus it would cost a fortune so Dad wouldn’t be too happy about it. I actually felt a little sorry for her.

I prepared myself to say in my most comforting and reassuring voice, ‘Don’t worry, Helena, we can achieve this feat together,’ when her face broke into a Cheshire Cat smile.

‘You look so beautiful! It’s just what I wanted – the dresses are perfect!’ She jumped up and tottered over to Diana, embracing her and, as a tear of joy slid down her cheek, turned to us again and said, ‘I could not be happier. This was so terribly important to me. I’m so proud of my girls!’

I stood in shock, confused about whether there had been some kind of chemical leak nearby and everyone in the room was losing their vision or something.

I turned to my mum for confirmation but even she was nodding slowly, a hand on her heart as she took us both in. I made a face at her, attempting to convey through the medium of my eyes that she needed to speak up and say how awful we looked.

‘I think they look splendid, Helena; you are truly talented, Diana. What are you doing with your face, Anna? You look like you’re trying to impersonate Fenella’s dear little Chihuahua.’

‘Mum,’ Marianne began, picking her words carefully, ‘I love the colour bu–’

‘Oh, Marianne,’ Helena interrupted, breezing across the room and pulling Marianne into her arms, which in these dresses – with the skirt poofing out so much – was not easy. She had to go in from a side angle just to reach her. ‘I knew you’d love it! I am so lucky to have such a wonderful daughter!’

Marianne froze, unsure what to do as Helena dabbed her eyes. They all turned to look at me for my verdict. Marianne furrowed her brow in concentration at me and I knew she was trying to do what I had been attempting with Mum. She was desperate for me to tell the truth.

But how could I? Helena was so happy and the designer was standing next to me and do you know what she was holding? PINS. A load of very sharp pins. I had no choice.

‘I think these dresses are just . . . great.’

Marianne looked at the ceiling in despair.

‘Oh, Anna,’ Helena cried, coming over to embrace me and stroke the sleeves of the dress lovingly. ‘Don’t you just love all these ruffles?’

‘I . . . er sure do.’

‘And the skirts are so big and voluminous – I just love them!’

‘Yeah.’ I smiled weakly, trying to sound enthusiastic. ‘Are you sure we’ll all fit down the aisle? Ha ha.’

‘I think I need to take it in at the chest,’ Diana was saying, examining me closely. ‘I didn’t realise you were quite so small there.’

Brilliant, thanks for that, Diana.

‘Yes, she hasn’t developed in that area quite yet.’

Wonderful, thank you, Mum.

‘If only you could wear this dress to the family dinner we’re having before you head off to Rome on your adventure,’ Helena sighed. ‘Because then Connor could see you in it! Such a shame!’

‘Uh huh. That’s really . . . uh . . . That is a big shame.’

‘We should get out of them now,’ Marianne said hurriedly. ‘Don’t want to crease them. You know. Any more than they are. Ha ha.’

‘Good point, Marianne, you’re so thoughtful.’ Helena clapped her hands. ‘But don’t worry, darlings, just a few more weeks and the whole world will see you in these magnificent designs! Doesn’t that just make you want to cry ?’

Marianne and I exchanged a grimace. Helena had hit the nail on the head.

From: jess.delby@zingmail.co.uk

To: anna_huntley@zingmail.co.uk

Subject: So

Are you feeling nervous?

J x

P.S. Why aren’t you answering your phone?

From: anna_huntley@zingmail.co.uk

To: jess.delby@zingmail.co.uk

Subject: Re: So

Why would I be feeling nervous?

Love, me xxx

P.S. Dog gave my phone to Hamish. You know, the Pomeranian that lives down the road. His owner only just returned it.

From: jess.delby@zingmail.co.uk

To: anna_huntley@zingmail.co.uk

Subject: Re: So

Because you’re about to go for dinner with your whole family. And Connor.

What is it with your dog stealing your phone?!

J x

From: anna_huntley@zingmail.co.uk

To: jess.delby@zingmail.co.uk

Subject: Re: So

What’s the big deal about going for dinner with my family and Connor?

I think it’s kind of sweet what Dog did. Maybe it was Hamish’s birthday or something. Dog is very thoughtful that way.

From: jess.delby@zingmail.co.uk

To: anna_huntley@zingmail.co.uk

Subject: Re: So

Anna. For the last time. Dog is a DOG. He doesn’t understand birthday occasions. He doesn’t go out of his way to bring a present to the Pomeranian down the road. He is simply a canine thief.

Anyway, I’m glad you’re not nervous or anything. I was just worried you would be because of the time Danny and I went for dinner with your whole family.

You know, when we were at that Turkish restaurant and your mum and Helena joined in with the belly dancers and your dad drank all that raki or whatever it’s called and then told us the story about when a director told him he could be the next Brad Pitt, but he turned it down for the, and I quote, ‘bewitching nature of the written word’.

But that’s good you’re not worried! I’m sure it will be great.

Right I’m going to shut down my computer now and go check I’ve got everything ready to go for Rome for the hundredth time. I’M SO EXCITED!

Message me after. Now you have your phone back there’s no excuse.

J x

*

Hi! You’ve reached Jess. Leave me a message and I’ll give you a buzz.

*BEEP*

Jess. It’s me. Anna. You’re right. I can’t believe I didn’t stop to consider the family of weirdos I was born into and the disaster zone into which Connor is about to step. You have to HELP. How do I cancel the dinner?! ANSWER YOUR PHONE.

Hi! You’ve reached Jess. Leave me a message and I’ll give you a buzz.

*BEEP*

Jess, pick up, this is an emergency. Oh Lord, I just remembered when Mum and Marianne had just met and Mum told her a story about how she befriended a bushpig in Malawi. WHAT IF SHE TELLS CONNOR THE STORY ABOUT BEFRIENDING A BUSHPIG? Would you date someone whose mother told you a story about befriending a bushpig? Exactly. It’s all over.

Hi! You’ve reached Jess. Leave me a message and I’ll give you a buzz.

*BEEP*

Plan A has failed. Dad didn’t buy the story I told him about there being a panther on the loose, escaped from London Zoo, and we should all stay inside for our own safety. Turns out London Zoo doesn’t even HAVE panthers. I’ll have to come up with a Plan B. What kind of zoo doesn’t have panthers? Stupid zoo.

Hi! You’ve reached Jess. Leave me a message and I’ll give you a buzz.

*BEEP*

Plan B failed. And now my arms are covered in ketchup for no good reason. Dad is yelling at me to clean up otherwise we’re going to be late. Well, the dinner is going ahead. Connor has no idea what he’s getting himself into. I’ll call you later when I no longer have a boyfriend and my life is over.

Hello! It’s Anna here. Leave a message. OK, bye!

*BEEP*

Just got all your messages. What on EARTH was Plan B?

*

‘Anna,’ my mum chuckled over her salmon, ‘I think when people ask what you’re most looking forward to on a trip to beautiful Roma, you shouldn’t lead with “getting away from all the stupid London pigeons”.’

‘They’re getting out of control. It’s like they’re plotting, the way they strut around the place,’ I argued, letting Marianne steal a chip from my plate. ‘When there’s a pigeon on the throne, don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

‘They are truly a threat to national security,’ Connor nodded, throwing me a disarming smile. ‘Thank goodness Helena knows the prime minister personally.’

‘Well, yes. You know, he has a wicked sense of humour, although you wouldn’t have guessed it from the ties he wears. Anyway, I think it’s just fabulous that you get to go on such a trip,’ Helena enthused. ‘You’ll come back for the wedding completely refreshed.’

‘And such a place! Ah Roma,’ Mum sighed.

‘What happened in Roma ?’ Marianne asked eagerly as Mum got this dazed look on her face.

‘Oh, you know.’ She picked up her glass, swirled its contents and slowly leaned back in her chair as though she were Gandalf about to tell the hobbits of her great adventure. ‘I met Alberto there.’

‘Mum,’ I groaned, looking at her pleadingly. ‘Please don’t say anything too weird.’

‘He was a handsome poet and he played a ukulele,’ she sighed, causing Marianne to giggle and me to put my head in my hands. ‘I became his muse.’

‘Oh, Rebecca, how wonderful!’ Helena swooned.

Connor and my dad shared a glance and looked distinctly awkward. I slid further down in my chair and became very focused on my glass of water.

‘Such a shame that you can’t go, Connor,’ Mum said, tilting her head sympathetically. ‘It really is a very romantic city. You and Anna could have shared some moments under the stars and –’

I choked on the ice in my drink and began to splutter. Marianne knocked me on the back.

‘Thanks,’ I wheezed before turning to give Mum a pointed look. ‘Anyway, enough about Rome. Let’s talk about Connor’s comic book.’

‘So you’re going to be working on it for the whole summer?’ Marianne asked.

‘Looks like it.’ He nodded enthusiastically. ‘It’s sad to miss out on stuff like Rome, but I have to get on with it. And –’ he turned to smile at me – ‘I can spend time with Anna when she gets back.’

‘I’m sure she’ll have plenty of adventures to tell you about!’ Helena said. ‘Plenty of fun and getting into trouble!’

‘No, no,’ I replied in my most sophisticated and grown-up voice. ‘I will be following all the rules and lying low, drawing no attention to myself whatsoever. The itinerary looks fascinating.’

‘Ow!’ I looked at Marianne accusingly who had for some reason just kicked me in the ankle.

Helena raised her eyebrows in surprise. ‘Well, I hope you’re not intending on following all the rules.’

‘Actually, Helena, I think Anna should absolutely do so,’ Dad said sternly, prompting Mum to snort and Helena to shake her head at him in disappointment.

‘Well, if you’re going to insist on following rules,’ Helena said authoritatively, rolling up the sleeves of her kimono, ‘let them at least be good ones.’

Helena Montaine’s top five rules for making the most of a new city:

1. Don’t be afraid to say ‘yes’ to new things, such as local delicacies and traditions.

‘I don’t think I’d have had half as much fun on that film set in Dubai if I’d said no to riding that ridiculous creature, the camel. At first I didn’t have the slightest interest, but I very much bonded with Ibil in the end. When he stopped spitting, of course.’

2. Speak to the locals.

‘This is an absolute necessity when visiting a new place because they will be able to point you in the direction of the cleanest lavatory facilities in the area. Indispensable knowledge.’

3. Make sure that you visit at least one historic landmark early on in the trip so you can get a photo of yourself next to it.

‘Then if you just happen to wander into a luxurious spa and end up staying there for a few days, no one can accuse you of missing out on the terribly important culture of wherever you are because you have photographic evidence.’

4. Be sure to learn at least one essential phrase that you will be using often in the local language of where you are holidaying.

‘For Italy I recommend attenzione con la mia casella di cappello, which means “careful with my hat box”.’

5. Make your own rules.

‘It is YOUR holiday and you are making YOUR memories. Make sure they are good ones. And by that I mean fun ones.’

I laughed nervously as I think I caught Connor frowning slightly at that last one.

‘Helena’s right,’ my mum insisted. ‘This is Anna’s first big adventure. She should make the most of it.’

‘Speaking of adventures,’ Marianne began, ‘I actually have my own adventure to tell you about. I’m moving.’ She beamed. ‘Tom and I have decided to move in together.’

I sat in shock. Marianne hadn’t mentioned anything about this to me – I didn’t even realise they’d talked about things like that. Judging by the expression on Helena’s face, she hadn’t mentioned it to her mother either.

‘I know it’s quite fast, but we’re totally committed and we’ve talked it through extensively. We’re both really excited and now seems like a good time. He’ll be on tour for the next couple of months so I’m going to be looking for the perfect place and then when he gets back we’ll move in.’

‘Well,’ Mum smiled, taking charge as Helena looked completely gobsmacked. ‘Congratulations, Marianne, that’s very exciting.’

‘Yes,’ Helena agreed, pulling herself together. ‘It does all seem quite fast but then I’m one to talk. You have to do what makes you happy.’ She turned to Dad who smiled back at her in a goofy way, reaching over to link his fingers with hers before kissing her hand.

I mean, I know it’s cute that they’re so in love and blah blah blah, but do they need to do this kind of thing in front of ME?

I couldn’t even look at Connor at this point. But he reached over and gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. I blushed and looked at my feet.

‘Tom makes me happy. The happiest ever,’ Marianne gushed, her cheeks flushing pink.

‘Well then –’ Helena raised her glass – ‘how exciting. Congratulations, Marianne.’

‘My goodness, what a summer!’ My mum laughed. ‘Here’s to the wedding, Connor’s comic book, Marianne’s new place and Anna’s Roman adventure!’

As everyone stretched over to clink glasses, Marianne leaned gently towards me so that our shoulders were touching.

‘And,’ she whispered in my ear so that no one else could hear, ‘here’s to making your own rules.’

The whole of the next morning I tried to act like it was just a normal day in front of Dog. He sat next to me while I brushed my teeth as he always did, and I could see him eyeing me suspiciously as I put my toothbrush in a washbag and not into its normal mug. Then I saw him look mildly puzzled as I went around the house picking up everyday items such as my phone charger and my shampoo and taking them upstairs to my room, then shutting the door.

‘Anna!’ my dad yelled up the stairs. ‘You’re going to be late! Rebecca, Helena and Marianne will be here any minute. We’ve got to get everything packed up and ready!’

‘What’s Dog doing?’ I shouted back through my door.

‘What?’

‘I said, what is Dog doing?’ I carefully opened my door so I could peer out through the crack.

‘I don’t know, Anna,’ Dad said, exasperated. ‘I think he’s chewing on the Monopoly board in the sitting room. I’ve told you not to leave board games within his reach. Don’t you remember the incident with Snakes and Ladders?’

‘So, he’s distracted?’

‘Yes. He’s not passed Go yet.’ Dad laughed VERY loudly at his own joke.

‘Dad, I’m being serious! I need to know the coast is clear for me to bring my suitcase down.’

‘For goodness’ sake, Anna, just bring it down. Do you want me to come and help you with it?’

‘No! No, stay downstairs. If you come up here, he might know something is up. Act as normal as possible. Grab some paper and moan about deadlines or say something boring about the war like normal.’ I heard Dad mumble something about ungrateful teenagers as I opened my door wide enough for me to squeeze through with my suitcase. ‘Is the front door open?’

‘Yes.’

‘Is the boot open?’

‘Yes!’

‘OK, well, make sure you leave my pathway clear. I’m going to run down with the suitcase and quickly out the door, before throwing it in the boot without Dog seeing a thing. If Dog approaches, you need to alert me and I’ll run back up and hide the suitcase.’

‘Alert you?’

‘Yes. Secret code. Do a squawk or something.’

‘A squawk ? Anna, what are you talking about?’

I sighed at how slow he was being when we were already pressed for time. ‘That’s code for “Dog is on the move”.’

‘Or I could just say, Dog is on the move. You know, because he’s a dog and he doesn’t understand human speak?’ Dad huffed.

‘Yeah, that’s what you think. I know better. Is the coast clear? Maybe I should hunt out my walkie-talkies. They might be helpful.’

‘Anna, just come down the stairs and put your suitcase in the car before I lose my temper.’

‘FINE. But if Dog sees the suitcase and goes mad because he knows that I’m leaving him, you can’t blame ME for anything that gets broken when he punishes me.’

‘Anna –’

I quietly tiptoed out of my room with my suitcase in tow and began a very slow, careful descent down the stairs with Dad standing at the bottom watching me, his arms crossed. The suitcase was much heavier than I was expecting even though I’d already had to cut down half of what I wanted to bring due to weight restrictions. I could barely lift it up from the floor, so I kind of slid down each step with my back against the wall, straining every muscle so that the case didn’t touch the ground and make a noise.

‘What on earth are you doing? Why are you walking down the stairs like a crab?’

‘I am walking down the stairs stealthily,’ I hissed back. ‘Keep your voice down. The slightest out-of-place noise will send Dog investigating and then he will see me with the suitcase and go into a FRENZY. Honestly, Dad, you are so unsubtle. You could never be a spy.’

But just then my arms failed me and the suitcase dropped from my hands, landing with a loud thunk on the stairs and then clonking down every last step before landing at Dad’s feet.

Dad and I froze.

We waited for the sound of Dog barging out of the sitting room. No footsteps came and I breathed a sigh of relief and motioned for Dad to quickly pick up the case and take it out through the door. I helped him get it into the boot, ignoring his grumbling about how I must have packed the kitchen sink and, for goodness’ sake, did I really need enough outfits to last me a year? In his day you would go for weeks with just a shirt on your back.

I didn’t think it was the right moment to remind him that things had moved on since Biblical times.

As we both turned back to the house, I gasped and stopped still. Dog was sitting on the front step watching us.

We were busted.

He must have seen the whole thing. ‘Dog,’ I began in my most soothing voice, ‘it’s not what it seems. I’m just going away for two weeks, but I’m not leaving you and I’ll be right back in no time. Dad’s going to make sure he gives you extra rations every day to make up for the inconvenience.’ Dad snorted next to me so I punched him on the arm. ‘Now, why don’t we just go back inside, sit down and talk this through like adults.’

I saw Dog’s eye twitch.

In a flash he was up on his paws, springing back into the house and flying up the stairs at full pelt. ‘NO, DOG, COME BACK!’ I yelled, bolting after him into the house and seeing the tip of his tail sailing into my bedroom. I rushed up the stairs and skidded to a halt in the doorway. Dog was standing on my bed facing me and in his mouth he was holding my phone.

‘Dog,’ I said slowly and calmly. ‘Let’s not do anything rash. We don’t want to do something we regret, do we?’

His tail swished slowly from side to side.

‘Give me my phone, Dog,’ I said gently, taking a step forward. He took a step back and shook his head in warning. Dad joined me in the doorway and let out a loud sigh when he saw us both in the position of a highly charged stand-off. ‘Dad, this is your fault.’

‘My fault?’

‘I told you that we’d been watching too many John Wayne movies. It was bound to rub off on him.’

‘Enough of this nonsense,’ Dad said, nudging me aside and striding forward confidently towards our Labrador. ‘Dog, drop!’

Knowing he had the upper hand, Dog waited until my dad was close enough and then he leapt down from the bed, dodging him and zooming past me back downstairs. Dad and I chased after him into the kitchen, stumbling to a sudden stop as we saw Dog dangling my phone over his water bowl from his drooly jaws.

‘Hellooooo!’ Helena cheerily sauntered into the house with Marianne and Mum in tow. ‘Anyone in?’

They came into the kitchen and saw Dad and me both standing like statues, watching Dog. ‘Oh dear.’ Mum bit her lip. ‘Did he see the suitcase?’

‘Don’t encourage Anna, Rebecca. The two things aren’t linked.’

‘Of course they are, Nicholas.’ Mum sighed. ‘It’s so like you to dismiss something so obvious.’

‘Dog, it’s just two weeks.’ I knelt down on my hands and knees to attempt a different approach, hoping he might back down if I wasn’t towering over him. ‘I promise I’m coming back. I’m just going to Rome.’

On the word ‘Rome’ there was a big splash as Dog released my phone from his jaw and it plopped perfectly into the middle of his water bowl. I closed my eyes in horror and Dog trotted past me with his head held high to go sulk in the sitting room. Soon enough I heard him chewing away on the Monopoly board just to hammer home how he felt about this situation.

‘Oh, Anna, your phone!’ Mum cried, quickly rescuing it and grabbing a tea towel, desperately trying to dab it dry.

‘You need to put it in a pack of rice,’ Marianne instructed, going immediately to the cupboards to find one.

‘That dog,’ Dad sighed as I clambered to my feet.

‘Don’t blame Dog,’ I said huffily. ‘It’s my fault for not being honest with him. Anyway, it’s about time I got a new phone – that one you got me is ancient.’

‘Let’s discuss it in the car.’ Dad threw up his hands in exasperation. ‘Now, everybody in.’

I let them all pile into the car and Dad stood tapping his foot, impatiently waiting to lock up as I sat cross-legged next to Dog, who was even sulkier now that Dad had taken away the Monopoly board and put absolutely anything of value out of his reach. All he had to distract him from his sorrows was a manky old tennis ball. I gave him a big cuddle and I think he must have forgiven me because he gave me a lick and a loving headbutt.

As soon as we had come through the airport doors and turned the corner to the check-in desk, we were hit by a barrage of shouting and paparazzi camera flashes.

At first I was shocked that they could possibly know which desk to wait for us at, but then I saw that our teacher, Mrs Ginnwell, was standing there holding a big sign that said ‘WOODFIELD CHECK-IN POINT’.

Helena, a paparazzi professional, immediately took it in her stride, guiding me towards Mrs Ginnwell and smiling angelically at the cameras as she swanned past in her wide-brimmed sunhat and billowing summer dress. Marianne clacked along in her heels next to her mum, wearing sunglasses that dwarfed her face, tiny denim shorts and a crisp white shirt, her arms and hands dripping in jewellery. I wish I could look so effortless in front of the national press but, you know, doing something as casual as checking in your luggage becomes much more difficult when you’ve got a hundred flash bulbs going off in your face and people shouting questions at you.

‘Anna, who are you wearing?’ (Actually, funny story – this T-shirt was originally a dress but Dog ate half of it to punish me when I turned the TV off halfway through Homeward Bound.) ‘Helena, any wedding dilemmas?’ (Yes, excellent question. Big dilemma, in fact: she is dressing her daughter and her stepdaughter up as giant purple Moomins.) ‘Marianne, is it true that you and Tom Kyzer are on the rocks?’ (Well, you obviously don’t have the whole moving-in-together scoop, duhbrain). ‘Anna, are you worried about causing chaos abroad after your recent disaster at the London Comic-Con event?’

I froze.

The reporter clearly smelt fear: ‘Anna, do you consider the embarrassment you might cause your friends and family when these incidents occur or do you like the attention? How is your boyfriend coping with the pressure . . .?’ He paused for dramatic effect. ‘At HOME?’

All cameras suddenly pointed away from the rest of my family and focused entirely on me.

‘I . . . I . . .’

Suddenly Dad’s arm was round my shoulders, leading me away from the check-in desk and towards the security queue for departures. ‘Here’s your passport,’ he said, placing it in my hand. ‘What have I told you about the paparazzi? Ignore them.’

‘But they were asking about Connor!’ I felt horrible thinking about how Connor would react to being dragged into the latest news story when he wasn’t even here this time.

‘They’re trying to push your buttons – you know that. Don’t let them.’ He gave my shoulder a comforting squeeze as I nodded.

When we got to the queue, the press still swarming around us taking photos, Helena produced a thin box from her oversized handbag that she was now holding out for me.

‘A parting gift,’ she said, smiling. ‘Just a little something.’

‘Thanks, Helena!’ I took it from her nervously as a hush descended on our audience and rippling whispers of, ‘What’s in the box?’ and ‘Make sure you get the shot!’

I undid the ribbon, aware of several lenses focusing on my hands and wishing I had practised an I-love-this-gift expression. I opened the box and peered at the contents. ‘Wow! Great! Is it a fan? That’s . . . handy.’

‘Let me,’ said Helena, and, with a dramatic flourish, she lifted the fan and sharply released it, a cloud of glitter bursting from it into the air and raining down on us.

The crowd gasped and then burst into applause as Helena bowed her head to the flashbulbs in acknowledgement, fanning herself elegantly with my gift and showing me exactly how it’s done. Marianne may have been wearing her sunglasses but I could feel her rolling her eyes behind them.

‘What a wonderful present!’ my mum said excitedly. ‘Very useful for the heat in Rome and it’s so beautiful.’

‘Handmade by a charming geisha in Japan,’ Helena informed her, pointing at the colourful, detailed pattern. ‘I was filming for a few weeks out there once.’

‘Thanks, Helena,’ I said, brushing the glitter off my sleeves.

‘I’ve got you a little something too,’ Mum said, holding out a bag. I reached for it tentatively. Mum has always had a rather odd taste in gifts because they are mostly relics from far corners of the earth, which isn’t surprising considering she’s a well-known travel journalist, but my standard response of ‘great, Mum, this is so unique’ was wearing thin.

I put my hand cautiously inside the bag, ignoring Dad’s eyebrows, which were wriggling away in warning, and pulled out what can only be described as a grubby, jagged bit of rock.

‘Er – great, Mum, this is so unique!’

‘It is for guidance, wisdom and luck,’ she said knowingly. ‘Particularly useful now that you won’t have your phone on you to contact us when you need to. But at least you have this stone.’

I nodded. ‘Brilliant,’ I said, and shoved it in my pocket. ‘That’s great. Right, well, I better be going through, then. Thanks for the . . . uh . . . fan and the rock.’

I hugged them all goodbye and gave a final wave before joining the queue to get through security. Glancing back at my family, who were waving enthusiastically, the press still buzzing around them, I tried to ignore the whispers and pointed looks too, acting as though I didn’t know the person behind me in the queue was taking photos of my back.

‘See you for the wedding!’ Marianne cried over the crowd.

‘And try not to get into any trouble!’ Dad added.

I handed over my boarding pass, turning the corner and out of sight from them all, the sudden quiet making my worries seem all that bit louder in my head. This was Connor’s time to work on his comic and my time to have a sophisticated Italian experience. Without any embarrassing press stories. Either way, I just had to make sure I didn’t get into any trouble in Rome. Easy, right?

I put my hand in my pocket and pulled out the bit of rock. ‘I hope you work,’ I said under my breath to it, hoping no one was paying attention to me talking to a stone. I had a feeling I was going to need all the luck I could get.

I spotted Jess choking next to the perfume stand.

‘What’s going on?’ I asked as she coughed and spluttered all over the place.

‘I . . . sprayed . . . the . . . perfume . . . in . . . my . . . mouth.’

‘No, Jess, perfume doesn’t go there,’ I said, offering her the bottle of water I’d just bought. ‘It goes on your wrists.’

She gratefully glugged the water and then put her hands on her hips. ‘No kidding. The nozzle was facing the wrong way when I sprayed it. How come it took you so long to get here? Danny, Stephanie and I have already been round all the shops.’

‘My family gave me presents before I went through security.’

‘Going away presents? That’s so cute. What did they get you?’

‘A fan and a rock. Where are the others?’

Jess looked confused for a moment by the going-away offerings but didn’t comment. She was very used to my weird family by now. ‘Everyone’s in the bookshop. We’ve got to meet Mrs Ginnwell in ten minutes by the information point before going to the gate. I volunteered to wait here for you. So, were you OK with all that?’ she added, jerking her head back towards security.

‘Oh, yeah,’ I sighed. ‘I set off the alarm about ten times coming through the scanner and they couldn’t work out what it was. I thought maybe it was the rock, but they used that handheld beepy thing and it kept going off on my right arm.’

I held my arm out to illustrate my story. ‘But I’m not wearing any jewellery so the security woman was weirded out by the whole thing and that got me thinking: maybe I’m actually a product of a scientific experiment that went wrong and when I was little they injected me with an experimental serum just like Captain America, but it didn’t work out so my parents have kept it secret from me all this time and the only way I’ve discovered the truth is because whatever chemical runs through my veins sets off airport security scanners!’

Jess lifted an eyebrow. ‘Yeah, I actually meant were you OK with all the press out there, but thanks for that really long spiel of crazy.’

‘Oh.’ I checked my wrists suspiciously anyway. ‘Yeah, it was fine. Let’s go to the information point.’

As we walked, I filled Jess in on the family dinner.

‘Marianne and Tom are moving in together?’ She looked surprised. ‘I thought he was on tour at the moment.’

‘He is. When he gets back, they’ll sort it.’

‘Ah. More importantly, though, how did you leave things with Connor? Did he give you a passionate goodbye kiss?’ she teased, nudging me with her elbow as I swatted her away.

‘No! Well, you know.’

I felt my cheeks growing hot. It hadn’t exactly been the most romantic setting, what with my whole family in the car behind us as we stood at his doorstep.

‘Well, thanks for inviting me tonight,’ he’d said, as I spotted everyone in the car looking very obviously the other way. Except Dad who was having his head forcibly turned by Helena.

‘Thank you for coming,’ I replied. ‘I hope my family weren’t too overwhelming. They can be.’

He laughed. ‘They were great.’ He paused, pushing his fringe back. ‘I’m going to miss you, Spidey.’

I blushed at the nickname he’d given me on discovering that we were both big Marvel geeks.

I opened my mouth to say something along the lines of how I wished so badly he could come with me to Rome and was there any chance he could forget about the comic book for just two weeks. But I stopped myself, swallowing my words. It wasn’t fair. I should be proud of having such an intelligent and motivated boyfriend who was willing to give up his summer holidays to work on something he was passionate about.

‘I’ll miss you too.’

‘By the sounds of things, I’m not sure you will,’ Connor joked, looking slightly uncomfortable.

‘What are you talking about?’ I said, taken aback.

‘Oh, you know.’ He jerked his head towards the car before looking down at his feet. ‘What Helena said . . . You’ll be having too much fun.’

‘I’d have way more fun with you there.’

Connor smiled and reached across for my hand.

‘HOOOOOONK!’

I jumped round at the embarrassingly loud car horn just in time to see Helena giving my dad a reproving whack across the head.

Oh my God. Just let me curl up and die in a hole in Outer Mongolia right now.

‘Haha. I guess we should be used to having an audience by now.’ Connor laughed nervously. ‘At least they don’t have cameras.’

‘Yeah, well, I’m not sure a car horn is much better,’ I muttered, glaring at my dad.

‘It will be nice for you to escape the press in Italy. Plus,’ he smiled, ‘I’ll be shut away in my room most of the time working on The Amazing It Girl so they can’t use me as an excuse to hound you. I’ll be away from it all.’

‘Sure,’ I said, trying to match his enthusiasm. ‘Although, you know, it would have been better to get away from it all together.’

‘I know. It would have.’ He nodded. ‘But we’ll speak and message all the time, though.’

The car honked again and my dad gestured for me to hurry up, pointing at his watch. I felt a little better when I saw Helena give him yet another thwack over the head.

‘I better go!’ I sighed. ‘Good luck with the comic.’

And then that had been that.

‘That’s it ?’ Jess looked unimpressed.

‘What were you expecting?’ I laughed. ‘A pledge of his undying love?’

‘That would have been nice,’ she said before getting overexcited at all the headphones on display in the electrical store. She ran over to try them all on and I followed, picking up the first pair and shoving them over my ears, immediately shutting out all the busy airport noise with a tragically slow romantic ballad about heartbreak. Not quite what I needed right now, but I wasn’t going to show that in front of Jess.

I sighed. The truth was that I was a little disappointed at my goodbye with Connor. I don’t think some signs of a little more pain and heartbreak at having me leave the country for two weeks would have gone amiss. A little tear? The exchange of romantic tokens, perhaps? Obviously nothing gross like in the olden days when they exchanged lockets of hair, which, you know, probably would have creeped me out, but something.

I comforted myself with the reminder that Connor was shy and I wasn’t exactly the smoothest of operators. And that my dad seemed to have lost control of his senses when it came to what’s appropriate in a seeing-your-daughter’s-boyfriend-safely-to-the-door situation.

And they say that distance makes the heart grow fonder. Just like Arwen and Aragorn in The Lord of the Rings for example. Or Spider-Man and Mary Jane Watson . . . Anyway, he had definitely said we’d speak every day. I’d probably even have an email from him waiting for me as soon as I landed telling me how much he regretted not being able to have a proper goodbye . . .

Suddenly my headphones were yanked off my head. ‘Hey!’ I spun round to find Jess was standing right next to me.

‘Didn’t you hear me say your name like a hundred times? It’s time to go join the group,’ she said, placing the headphones back on their stand. ‘You were in some sort of weird daydream.’

‘No, I wasn’t,’ I said, feeling my cheeks going hot and picking up my bag.

‘Oh, really?’ She raised her eyebrows and put my headphone to her ear. ‘I can’t imagine what you were thinking about.’

We came round the corner and saw Mrs Ginnwell waiting for everyone by the information point. She was now holding up a large yellow sign that said ‘WOODFIELD ASSEMBLING POINT’ and was waving a Union Jack with her other hand.

‘May I commend you, Mrs Ginnwell, on your variety of signs,’ Jess said, as we approached her.

‘Thank you, Miss Delby,’ she replied, gesturing for us to wait by her side. ‘Any more of that cheek and you’ll be making notes on the architecture of the hotel while everyone else is at the end-of-trip party. Understand?’

Jess scowled and I pursed my lips, trying not to laugh. I had to give it to Mrs Ginnwell, she was taking her job very seriously, making sure the students were all under control. Unlike the other two members of staff, Miss Lawler and Mr Crowne, who were having a heated debate in the bookshop over the best crime writers, and Mr Kenton, who I spotted in the arcade playing on a zombie game with James Tyndale.

I laughed when I saw James throw up his arms in victory after destroying the zombies, forcing a grumpy-looking Mr Kenton to declare him the winner and earning a congratulatory high-five from his best friend, Brendan Dakers. James has a competitive streak, which admittedly had been very handy when he was on my team last term for Sports Day, but also, it turns out, can be really quite tiring when he regularly shows up at your door in the summer holidays expecting you to join him for a ‘casual jog’.

Clearly I tried to refuse every time because (a) Sports Day was over and we had won so there was no point in doing physical exercise any more and (b) I’m not an insane person who runs for fun.

But he forced me to go running with him and then kept yelling stupid stuff at me that was meant to be motivating, like ‘keep those knees up’, and ‘winners don’t take breaks’ and ‘Anna, try not to fall in the pond this time’.

So it really didn’t come as any surprise that he would be taking zombie games very seriously indeed.

James caught my eye and shot me a triumphant grin. I was giving him one back when Jess elbowed me in the ribs, gleefully drawing my attention to the whining voice nearby coming from the Queen Bee of our school, Sophie Parker. This time she was pompously demanding to know from Mrs Ginnwell where she could make a formal complaint about the airport.

Danny wandered over with Stephanie. ‘What’s all the fuss about this time?’ he whispered, keen not to put himself in the way of Sophie Parker’s latest angry tirade.

It didn’t work. She fixed him with a death stare. ‘They took my water at security.’

‘Just buy a new drink,’ Jess snorted.

‘It wasn’t just any drink,’ Sophie hissed, flicking her hair back dramatically behind her shoulders. Sophie was not Jess’s biggest fan. She wasn’t particularly fond of either of us, but at least she wasn’t threatened by me. In her eyes, I was just one big loser who kept getting in her way. Jess, on the other hand, being beautiful and sporty, was Sophie’s biggest nightmare.

‘It was an incredibly expensive, special type of flavoured water that regenerates your skin cells from the inside out,’ parroted Josie Graham, sounding like a really bad TV advert. Sophie’s minion, Josie, was never far from her Queen Bee’s side and hated me more than anyone else in the school. Probably because I once set her on fire and then another time hit her in the face with a discus. They were both accidents, but it is really bad luck that she should be the victim on both occasions. She looked down her nose at me. ‘The water is imported – from Italy.’

‘That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,’ Jess laughed, causing Sophie to puff up angrily. ‘Where do you think we’re going today?’

‘Thank you, girls – that’s enough,’ Miss Ginnwell interjected, before a full-on brawl could ensue. ‘Sophie, you know you can’t bring liquids through security. It’s your own fault for not checking the rules. Right, I think everyone is here.’ Mrs Ginnwell put her sign down and clapped her hands together. Looking furious about being so easily dismissed, Sophie folded her arms and shot daggers at a smug-looking Jess. ‘You will all have an allocated seat on your ticket,’ Mrs Ginnwell continued. ‘That is where you will sit on the plane. I don’t want anyone swapping or complaining. Is that clear? It will just cause a lot of fuss and make things much more difficult for the members of staff to keep track of you all.’

There was an immediate burst of chatter as everyone rummaged around for their ticket and conferred with their friends.

‘We’re miles away!’ I exclaimed, as Jess and I compared.

‘We’re two rows away, Anna,’ she smiled. ‘I’m sure you can cope.’

‘Hey, I’m in the row in front of you,’ James pointed out, looking over my shoulder.

‘Cool! We can pass messages!’ I exclaimed without thinking, causing Jess to cover up a laugh by pretending to have a coughing fit.

‘Can we paint each other’s nails too?’ James grinned.

Swallow me up now, please, ground.

But if I thought that situation was awkward it was nothing compared to the plummeting in my stomach when I boarded the plane and saw just who I was sitting next to.

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