‘Great,’ I say. ‘Jallal-clothes. Look, Surinda, you’d better sit down because there’s something I’ve got to explain about the tickets.’
She perches obediently on the edge of my bed and I try to figure out what it is that is different about her. Something is. Her hair is slicked back and held in a pink rosette in the middle so you can see her dangly golden earrings. Her skin is dark, a little more greasy, with dark spots over her forehead. She has dark circles under her eyes. She used to look better than this, I think. But that isn’t what’s changed; it’s something else. She’s got a bit more confidence about her, that’s what it is. Like she’s been places and done some things. She’s had a little experience of the world. And me, stuck here, I’m feeling at a distinct disadvantage: I’ve had none.
‘Go on,’ she says. She’s picked up my nail-varnish bottle and is looking at the label.
‘Those tickets that we’re after, we’ve got to go down to Blackberry Common this Saturday and collect them.’
‘What?’ She’s frowning in annoyance now. ‘I’ve got things planned for this weekend, girl. My hair, for one.’
‘If you want the tickets…’ I say.
‘Why can’t they just be posted?’ She puts the nail-polish bottle down on my bed. ‘You ring them and tell them that you want those tickets posted.’
‘Ring who?’ Surinda is looking cross now. I thought she was desperate for those tickets. This whole Jallal business is ruining everything. ‘We can’t ring anyone. We’ve got to go in person.’
‘I don’t think I can help you.’ She’s shaking her head in a vague kind of way. ‘My time’s all taken up now. Things aren’t turning out exactly how we’d like them, either.’
‘What things?’ My heart is thumping again. If Surinda won’t take me to meet Kieran, then who will? Daniel is too young to be of any use. Solly would never approve of me meeting an Internet bloke—and he’d be sure to tell my mum. And she can’t know. She’d tell Dad and he’d never have any of it. They’ll ruin everything for me if they know. Surinda is the only one who I can trust with this; she has to do it.
‘Jallal’s dad, it turns out, doesn’t actually own the factory in Jakarta that we were told he did.’
‘What factory?’
‘The condom factory!’ She gives me a look that suggests I must be a total imbecile. ‘The one my family were told he owns. It turns out he’s just the manager.’
‘And this matters because…?’
‘Because it means they aren’t so rich, of course. Why else would it matter?’
‘Why indeed?’ I’m getting this incredibly strong urge to giggle but I have a feeling it might not do my case any good so I try my best to stifle it by coughing into my hand.
‘I’m still marrying him, though,’ she says decisively. ‘Mum and Dad still reckon he’s a good catch. He has a third cousin who’s very high up in the government, they say.’
Well, if he doesn’t make the condom-factory-owner grade there’s always the third cousin to fall back on, I think.
‘Always useful to have,’ I agree.
‘I don’t think you’re quite getting this, are you?’ She takes her chewing-gum in between her fingers and looks around for somewhere to deposit it. ‘This is serious,’ she tells me heatedly. ‘This is my life we’re talking about here. It matters very much.’
‘I’m sorry. I am taking it seriously. Look, can’t you think of something to put off the hair appointment? Have it done the day before you see him. It’ll keep better. Krok will be so disappointed if we don’t go to Blackberry Common.’ I don’t know if that last bit is true, but it sounds good. ‘And what if Jallal is the possessive type and he never lets you out of the house once you’re his wife? Won’t you regret it then?’
There is a stunned silence for a minute. Then, failing to find any bin in my room, she pops the stale chewing-gum back into her mouth.
‘Kieran…will be there? You mean we’re picking up the tickets from him, himself?’ Surinda sounds a little too enthusiastic for my liking, all of a sudden, and why does she call him Kieran? ‘Well why didn’t you say so before?’ She stands up and looks at herself in the mirror behind my bedroom door. ‘Oh god, Shell, you should have said. Of course I’ll come.’
‘We’ll have to take the bus,’ I warn her.
‘The bus. Right.’ Her eyes have gone a moist, glowing shade of black. She fancies him. I can’t believe it. She fancies my Kieran. ‘There was a lovely picture of him in this week’s Telly Stars magazine.’
Was there?
‘He’s only a contestant on a game show,’ I tell her shortly. ‘Are you sure it was Kieran? He isn’t actually a telly star, is he?’ Surinda’s uncle owns a corner shop so she gets to look at all the trashy magazines as soon as they come out.
‘He’s on the telly. He’s drop-dead gorgeous and people have noticed him,’ she asserts. ‘Someone from Corrie has offered to introduce him to her agent, apparently. I think it’s them blue eyes, myself.’
Blimey. At this rate the world and his wife will all know about my Kieran. Maybe this Beat the Bank show wasn’t such a good idea after all? All those beautiful girls out there will see him and then what chance have I got?
‘Well anyway, about the tickets, you can’t tell anyone,’ I warn her. ‘My mum must never find out. She’ll kill me.’
‘Not a soul,’ she breathes. ‘Not a soul.’
‘You can make it then?’ I watch anxiously as she smooths down her school skirt over ample hips.
‘I’ve lost weight, haven’t I?’ She turns to look at me and I nod rapidly in agreement. Who knows if she has or not? Who cares?
‘I’ve not been eating a thing,’ she glowers. ‘Apart from my food, of course. Ohmigod. Kieran O’Keefe! I’m going to meet Kieran O’Keefe.’
‘Well, I am, actually. You’re just coming along for the ride,’ I remind her sharply. ‘You’ve got Jallal to look forward to.’
‘Course I do,’ she laughs. ‘We’ll both be sorted then, won’t we?’
I wish I could trust her more, really I do. I don’t trust her. But then, what option have I got? There is no one else who I could ask to take me there so it’ll have to be her.
‘It’s going to be so hard not to mention it to all them other girls at school, innit?’ Her eyes are dark as blackcurrants. I wish I could see into them. If she tells anyone and word gets back to my mum—which it will, if Michelle gets wind of it—then I’m done for.
‘If anyone finds out and my mum stops me going then you won’t be going either.’
‘If anyone finds out what?’ Daniel is standing at the doorway, his skateboard under his arm, looking from Surinda to me and back again.
‘Don’t you knock on your big sister’s door?’ Surinda gives him a withering look.
‘Mum’s gone out,’ he says to me.
‘I know.’
‘Why has she gone? How long will she be?’
I shrug. ‘I don’t know.’ I’m going to leave it at that—I don’t want him in here interfering when I’m planning something as important as this. But on the other hand I don’t want to be mean to him either. Especially since I don’t know