‘So, you and your sister are home alone? Cool. We’ll come over to you. Text me your address.’
The phone goes dead before I can say another word. I don’t have time to argue, even if I want to – luckily I don’t. Elyse has just decided that this is happening and there is no room for discussion. I’m too thrilled to worry much about the logistics.
I’m not entirely sure how I am going to clear it with my mum but, for once, I know I’m prepared to fight for this one if I have to. I corner her on her own in the bathroom before she goes to bed.
‘Mum, I was wondering… Tomorrow, is it OK if my friends Elyse and Melanie come over for a bit?’
‘The new girls you met up with at the concert? I don’t see why not. How about Shimmi and Nathalie?’ she says through a mouthful of toothpaste.
‘Nathalie’s gone away for half term, but I’ll see if Shim’s around. Thanks, Mum.’
I’d been working myself up so much about it, I kind of can’t believe it’s this easy.
‘Hey, I trust you not to burn the joint down, and I really do appreciate you keeping an eye on Daisy during the day this week.’
‘It’s cool; I don’t mind.’ I shrug. ‘If I can have friends over in the day, it’ll be really great.’
‘No problem. I’m just glad you seem a bit perkier since you had such a good birthday and met these girls.’
‘Yeah. They’re really cool.’
There is a pause as my mum looks at me intently.
‘We’ve been a bit worried about you, to be honest. You haven’t seemed very happy recently, so I’m pleased things are looking up.’
‘Yeah. I think they are. Don’t worry, Mum.’
Chapter Seven
Daisy and I are only lazing about the house, watching TV and eating snacks, but on Monday morning – despite the immense relief of not being at school – I find myself feeling a bit nervous. I’m wearing eyeliner, just in case, and checking my phone approximately every three seconds.
See, this is what a normal school holiday day is like round at my house – just me and Daisy, bickering over the computer, maybe walking into town later, maybe Shimmi or one of Daisy’s friends coming over. Try as I might, I simply cannot imagine how Elyse and Melanie will slot in.
At the gig, with a bottle of wine, it was different. Here, surely they’ll be bored out of their minds or else they’ll want to raid my mum’s drinks cabinet, invite boys over and smoke fags in the sitting room, while I quietly panic and my mum kills me. They might not even turn up. I texted my address to Elyse last night and haven’t heard from her since.
Then the doorbell rings and the book I was reading clatters to the floor.
‘God, what is wrong with you?’ Daisy mutters as she goes to answer it. ‘It’s only Shimmi.’
‘Yo, ladies,’ she announces herself, strolling in with a box of Krispy Kreme and a stack of DVDs.
‘You two are weird,’ says Daisy, grabbing a doughnut and disappearing upstairs.
It’s the first time Shimmi and I have seen each other since the gig, and we haven’t really had the chance to talk yet. We look at each other in excitement, about to explode with girly gossip and hysteria, but before we can open our mouths the doorbell rings again and they are here.
Elyse, Melanie and Shimmi come over every day for half term. We watch loads of films, listen to Trouble Every Day on repeat, eat junk food, walk into town to try on clothes and go to Nandos, read magazines, and chat about anything and everything. Even these ordinary activities have been elevated by having a cool gang around who, for the first time in my life, actually seem to ‘get’ me.
We have loads of stuff in common, especially Elyse and me. As well as Trouble Every Day, we basically like all the same music. Brand-new stuff that no one else I know has heard of, like Tied To The Mast, Terminal Gods and Jack Lucan; but we’re even into all the same weird old bands, from Sonic Youth to The Velvet Underground to Mudhoney and Bikini Kill. I don’t know anyone else my age in this town who has ever heard of a single one of these.
They don’t completely share my love of Nabokov and Murakami, but they are a million miles from most of the semi-literate girls in my class who only read Heat. Mel’s been looking through all of Pete’s art books, and Elyse found an old book I had on star signs and got really excited – she said she’s really into reading about astrology and all sorts of ‘alternative’ stuff that I’m pretty interested in, but would be laughed at for admitting at school. We’ve been poring through our horoscopes in all of Shimmi’s magazines and it’s been great.
This is pretty revelatory – I was starting to think I could go my whole life without meeting any real soulmate-type friends, people with whom I had anything in common other than proximity.
Elyse and I have been talking non-stop, looking up band websites together and swapping clothes, in a way that I’ve never done with anyone else before. Melanie’s much quieter than Elyse, but so sweet and nice to have around. Even Shimmi is different with the twins here – retaining all of the cool and funny elements that make her Shimmi, but a bit less silly and eager to impress than she is around some of the other girls at school.
It’s just a shame that Nathalie’s not here. I feel a bit bad that she has had to be left out of all this – I know I would be absolutely gutted if the situation were reversed. Although I feel bad she’s missing out, I can’t wait for her to come back so I can tell her the good news – like, ‘Hey, guess what? While you were away, we suddenly became cool!’
However, it’s amazing how quickly it starts to feel normal. In fact, there’s only one incident all week that doesn’t feel normal.
We all trek into town one afternoon, and, while the others are messing about at the Boots make-up counters, Elyse suddenly grabs my arm and pulls me away.
‘Come on, there’s something I want to show you,’ she says, breaking off from the others and propelling me down the street at a jog before any of them have even noticed what’s happening.
We come to a stop outside the window of a small hippy shop that I’ve never been in before. It’s full of crystals, dream-catchers and silver jewellery. I’d never have thought to set foot in a place like this before, but it’s really beautiful. I look over at Elyse and she is mesmerised. She eventually tears her eyes away and leads the way inside.
We are greeted by the shivering jingle of wind chimes as we open the door. The atmosphere in the shop is studiedly serene, with soft music playing and lights flickering; the woman behind the counter smiles at us benignly. Elyse seems to know where she is going, as she immediately gravitates towards a small table strewn with jewellery displays – a little bowl full of silver rings, chains and crystals hanging from spray-painted twigs in a vase.
‘Look at that,’ she whispers, pointing to a gorgeous bracelet. ‘I come in here to look at it all the time.’
‘It’s beautiful,’ I whisper back.
It’s a delicate silver chain hung with moons and crystals, but it has an edgier, darker look to it than most of the other stuff in here – just Elyse’s style. It also has a price tag on it for over fifty quid – not so much our style.
‘Do me a favour,’ she mutters conversationally, ‘just put it in your pocket while I distract her – she doesn’t know you.’
I respond with a face of utter panic but she has already turned away. I cast worried glances at her back and will her to turn around so that I can shake my head, mouth at her that I’m not doing it.
‘Hi,’