Sunshine Girl Read online

  Just like Amy’s, Gina’s hair was a bright, highlighted blonde, but whereas Amy usually wore her locks in a ponytail, Gina liked her hair to fall straight and loose down past her shoulders. Both girls had a strong sense of how pretty they were and they knew best how to work their looks.

  ‘Dermot! I’m sorry I’m late, but it’s OK, isn’t it?’

  Then, despite the crowded café tables, Gina and Dermot were kissing on the lips, maybe even with tongues – it was tricky to see from Niffy’s angle, but she still couldn’t help rolling her eyes at Amy.

  Gina pulled back from Dermot to take a look at him. She’d been his girlfriend since last summer and now it was March. Nine whole months. Their eyes held each other’s.

  Gina really did like so many things about Dermot. He was funny. He was kind. He worked hard. He studied hard. He was super cute-looking too.

  There was something between them. She felt the little buzz and tingle of attraction. There was definitely something there. But she knew now for sure that it was nothing compared to the electrifying jolt of being with Callum.

  But Dermot was so nice. She hated that she had to let go of him.

  ‘Hi,’ he said, with his arm still on her shoulder. ‘I was supposed to be free by four, but the girl doing the evening shift still hasn’t made it here.’

  ‘Oh no!’

  Dermot reached over and kissed her on the lips again. ‘I’ve phoned her and she’ll be here soon. So, where are we going to go?’

  ‘I was going to ask you the same thing.’

  ‘Cinema?’

  ‘No. I’m good,’ Gina replied, just a little too quickly. ‘I mean … I don’t think there’s much on that I want to go see right now.’

  ‘Ermm … it’s a bit early for something to eat … and I’ve had enough of cafés for one day … and it’s too late to go to an exhibition or anything like that … ermm … do you want to come back to my house?’

  Gina kept on looking at Dermot. Really, she knew she should tell him just as soon as she could that they were through. She was seeing someone else and not just any old someone else, but someone Dermot knew.

  Callum and Dermot weren’t best friends like Niffy had said. Whatever kind of friendship they’d once had had been destroyed when Gina had gone on a secret date with Callum the first time, and Callum just hadn’t been able to stop himself from mentioning it to Dermot.

  Gina had promised, sworn, absolutely insisted to Dermot that it was a complete mistake and it was all over. But that was no longer true.

  With flirty emails and sweet-talking on the phone, Callum had won Gina over … because he was daring, he was fun, he was slightly outrageous and exciting to be with. Now, after her secret cinema date with Callum, Gina knew she had to finish with Dermot, no matter how awkward and upsetting it was going to be.

  ‘I don’t know …’ she began. ‘Hey, can we step outside for a couple of minutes?’

  ‘Of course,’ Dermot answered, and she saw the flicker of worry cross his face.

  The café was up on the first floor above an art gallery, so once Gina and Dermot had gone out of the front door they were standing in a bright, white landing with stairs leading both up to the higher floors and down.

  As Dermot pulled her close to him for another kiss, Gina said, ‘I’m sorry, I can’t … I’m really sorry, Dermot, but …’

  She wanted to just say it straight off. Break up with him. Tell him it was over. Well … she thought she did. But when she looked into his face, then it was different. Then she couldn’t tell him, because she just wasn’t sure anymore.

  ‘I don’t think I can come over to your house tonight,’ she said instead.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Well … I’m supposed to be back at the boarding house by six-thirty. I don’t have a late pass tonight and I have an English essay that’s due in on Monday morning, so I’m going to be busy with that tonight and tomorrow …’

  This was to put him off asking her out again on Sunday.

  ‘Oh no …’ Dermot repeated. ‘We’re not exactly having much fun, are we? I mean, when did we last go on a date?’ Then, as they remembered the row about Callum, he added quickly, ‘One which didn’t go horribly wrong, Gina?’

  She looked into his face and felt a fresh clench of anxiety in her stomach … Surely he didn’t know about Callum? He hadn’t found anything out?

  Somehow the thought of Dermot knowing about her and Callum was even worse than the thought of breaking up with him.

  ‘You do still want to go out with me, don’t you?’ He looked at her with a very serious face.

  ‘Yes! Yes, of course,’ Gina heard herself telling him, because she just couldn’t bear to let him down. ‘How can you say that after everything we’ve been through?’

  ‘Phew! That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day. All week, even.’

  Chapter Three

  Supper in the St Jude’s boarding house on Saturdays and Sundays was never as good as any other night of the week, because it was made by the housemistresses, Mrs Knebworth and Miss McKinnon, instead of the boarding-house cook.

  On Friday afternoons the boarding-house cook spent several frantic hours making Friday’s supper as well as Sunday lunch, which she stored in the freezer before taking the weekend off.

  So, after picking at some baked tuna-fish pie kind of thing, then eating a yoghurt, Rosie from Lower Fifth had gone up to her dorm to lie on her bed, read a book and eat her way slowly and carefully through a packet of Maltesers.

  She was startled when Niffy, from the year above, knocked on the door, hurried into the room and went straight over to the window, turning the light out on the way.

  ‘Hi,’ Rosie said into the darkness. ‘Is this about Mrs Knebworth, by any chance?’

  ‘Yup,’ Niffy answered, and she crouched down beside the window so she could look at the boarding-house driveway without being spotted.

  Mrs Knebworth, the formidable boss of the boarding house, was a scary lady of about fifty-something who had been in charge for as long as anyone at St Jude’s could remember.

  She was the kind of short but completely solid Edinburgh woman who could stop a teenage girl in her tracks with a simple, but devastating, straight-lipped stare. With just a well-timed upwards flick of her eyebrow, Mrs Knebworth could extract confessions to crimes she hadn’t even guessed at.

  There were only a handful of girls in the boarding house who weren’t secretly terrified of Mrs Knebworth, and Niffy was one of them. This was because Niffy had been in trouble with Mrs Knebworth so often and suffered so many of her worst punishments that the fear had gradually worn off.

  The acutely interesting thing about Mrs Knebworth right now was that she actually seemed to have a love interest. On Saturday evenings nowadays, Mrs Knebworth no longer sat on the sofa in the sitting room, watching old films and making sure that girls got back exactly on time.

  No, nowadays, more often than not, she left that job to Miss McKinnon. Mrs Knebworth, meanwhile, spent early Saturday evening getting ready to go out: a process involving brightly coloured frocks and blouses, vibrant pink lipstick, half a can of hairspray and a perfume so chokingly strong that girls who came within a few metres of her couldn’t help coughing.

  Then she was picked up in a blue Jaguar by a middle-aged man, always smartly dressed in a suit, who was related to her long-dead husband. Then, she was ferried off into the Edinburgh night.

  She’d been spotted in restaurants – and even once at the opera. There were rumours that she was going to get engaged and be spirited away from the boarding house for ever.

  ‘Don’t you think it would be a good thing if Mrs Knebworth got married to Jaguar man and left?’ Rosie asked, scrunching up the now-empty Maltesers packet.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Niffy replied. ‘She’s the only housemistress we’ve known. We could get someone much, much worse.’

  ‘I think maybe you secretly quite like her,’ Rosie dared.

  For a moment or two Niff
y didn’t answer; she just carried on looking out of the window. But then, to Rosie’s surprise, she replied, ‘Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s like when hostages fall in love with their captors. What’s it called again?’

  ‘No idea.’

  ‘Stockholm Syndrome,’ Niffy remembered with a satisfied smile. ‘Yup, I’ve got Stockholm Syndrome. Mildly, obviously. I’m not in love with the Neb, or anything. Here he is, bang on seven-thirty, the Jaguar man.’

  Rosie couldn’t resist it; she had to sneak over to the darkened window too and take a peek.

  The housemistress, wearing shiny pumps and a trench coat buttoned up against the chilly March evening, came out to the driveway, waved, then got into the door opened by the man in the suit.

  ‘I think he’s called George Arbuckle,’ Niffy whispered, ‘and I just can’t shake the feeling that I’ve seen him somewhere else. In some sort of … I don’t know how to put this … but a bad situation.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Rosie asked.

  ‘I recognize him from somewhere. And it’s not a good place. It’s a bad-vibes thing.’

  ‘I think you’re just imagining it. Look at them having a little laugh together. He seems perfectly nice.’ But when the middle-aged couple kissed quickly on the lips in the front seat, Rosie couldn’t help making a squeak of disapproval. ‘Do you think they’ll get married?’ she asked Niffy.

  ‘Who knows? He must be covered in pink lipstick now.’

  ‘Nah, Mrs Knebworth’s a blotter. Her lipstick lasts for weeks.’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘Never mind. What about Gina?’ was Rosie’s next question.

  ‘I don’t think she’s about to get married.’

  ‘No. That’s not what I meant. Has she chucked Dermot yet?’

  ‘No. She was supposed to do it today. But apparently she lost her nerve. Or her horoscope said she couldn’t … or whatever excuse it was this time. I can’t even remember.’

  ‘Who do you think she’ll choose? Callum or Dermot?’

  ‘Who knows?’ Niffy repeated. ‘She’s in our dorm right now discussing it to death with whoever can bear to keep listening.’

  * * *

  When Rosie tapped on the door of Iris dorm, the room shared by Gina, Niffy, Amy and Min, two voices told her to come in.

  Opening the door, she saw that both Gina and Min were there. Gina was cross-legged on her bed, brushing her blonde hair. Min was folding her way through a pile of laundry on her bed.

  ‘Rosie, hi! How is my favourite little Lower Fifth?’ Gina gushed and stretched out her arms to give Rosie a hug, then a little air kiss on the cheek.

  ‘Hello,’ Min offered; she was friendly, but not as lovey-dovey as Gina.

  ‘I’m just talking it over with Min,’ Gina said, expecting Rosie to understand what she meant straight away. ‘I still don’t know what to do.’

  ‘Poor you,’ Rosie said, perching herself beside Gina on the edge of her bed.

  ‘Dermot is a really, really nice guy, Gina,’ Min said, shaking out a pair of pyjama bottoms, all crinkly and crunchy because they’d been hanging in the drying room for too long. ‘You really like him, he really likes you. I’m sorry, but it’s a no-brainer. You two should stay together. You should just put Callum right out of your mind and be glad that Dermot has too.’

  Gina sighed and carried on brushing.

  ‘Min’s probably right,’ Rosie offered.

  ‘Probably …’ Gina said, but she sounded very uncertain.

  ‘What’s so great about Callum anyway? And wasn’t he going out with someone in the Sixth Form?’ Min asked.

  ‘Milly – that is definitely finished. He told me himself, plus I heard some of her friends talking about it. What you need to understand is that Callum,’ Gina went on, ‘is just much, much more exciting than Dermot.’

  There was another tap on the door and Mel, from the year above, came into the room.

  ‘Gina?’

  ‘Hi.’ As Mel stepped into the room, Gina had to add: ‘You look amazing.’

  Mel flashed a quick smile at the compliment. She was all set to go out, her skinny legs outlined in spray-on shiny black leggings, a black lacy minidress on top and the highest-heeled dark green mary janes on her feet.

  ‘How are you going to get out wearing that?’ Min wondered.

  ‘The Neb has left the building,’ Mel said, applying lip gloss with her fingertip, then smacking her lips down on top of it. ‘Gina, I was just wondering if …’

  ‘You could borrow my eyeliner again?’ Gina guessed.

  ‘Yes, please,’ Mel said. ‘I spent ages looking for one just like it today, but nothing comes close.’

  ‘Must be a special US edition.’ Gina rummaged in her top drawer and brought out the dark, shimmery inky-blue eye pencil which Mel couldn’t party without.

  ‘Where are you going, Mel?’ Rosie asked.

  ‘Clubbing,’ Mel replied, ‘but it’s down on the permission sheet as birthday party and overnight stay with best day-girl friend, Isla. You have to make some really good day-girl friends,’ Mel advised, ‘otherwise you will never, ever have a good night out in this town. So, have you got rid of your loser waiter yet?’ She stopped applying liner for a moment and glanced over at Gina.

  ‘That’s not very nice,’ Min protested.

  Gina shook her head.

  ‘Why not?’ Mel wanted to know. ‘The entire boarding house is talking about it. Probably the rest of the school is too. I’m amazed he hasn’t heard about it yet. You’d better hurry up or he’ll know more about it than you do. Loads of Saint J’s girls go to that café and someone is bound to talk.’

  ‘I really like him … and I really like Callum too. I can’t decide.’

  ‘Oh, just move on! Honestly, you’re fifteen. There are so many great guys out there,’ Mel promised, bending forward to study her eye-lining handiwork in Gina’s mirror. ‘It’s Saturday night and you’re sitting in your dorm in your trackie bottoms. Are you staying in to do homework with Min?’

  Gina nodded.

  ‘See, this is why you need to ditch Dermot and move on. You should be out tonight doing something else that is a lot more fun.’

  Chapter Four

  On Sunday night, Amy emptied her purse and counted out her money to see how much damage she’d managed to inflict on her funds over the weekend.

  OK, she’d been working at her part-time job as a shop assistant for most of the day on Saturday, so she’d made £45, which would come to her in a few weeks, but then she’d had coffee and cake, bought a new lipstick, paid for a taxi back to the boarding house … eek! She’d spent £24.40 and now there was only a fiver and some coins left.

  ‘Oh no,’ she said out loud, but it was still to herself, as no one else was in the dorm right now. She looked across the top of her chest of drawers. Where once there had been expensive fancy-label creams and make-up, there were now products from Superdrug, The Body Shop and Boots. Plus, Amy’s jewellery box was emptier than it had once been.

  Her once very wealthy dad was going through a lot of business problems and Amy had promised to pitch in and help him out just as much as she possibly could. If he had to scrape together money to pay her boarding-school fees, then she’d told him she could earn her own pocket money and get by without any of the luxuries she’d been so fond of in the past.

  She’d given some of her best jewellery back to him to sell. She’d even put many of her loveliest clothes on eBay and she’d had to somehow cope when her dad had packed up their lovely flat in Glasgow and put it up for rent.

  The situation was still not good, but her dad kept promising her that in just a few months’ time it would all start to look better once again. In the meantime, Amy was just about managing on her no-luxury diet. She still had a very posh bottle of perfume left, half full, and whenever she felt too down in the dumps about being much, much poorer than in the past, she squirted a little blast onto her wrist where she could sniff at it for the rest of the day and remind
herself that the good times were certain to come back again.

  The door opened and Gina walked into the room. When she saw Amy’s money carefully laid out on the bed, looking as if it had been recently counted, she immediately offered: ‘If you need a loan for something, you just have to ask.’

  Amy smiled and shook her head. ‘No debts. But it’s nice of you to offer, anyway.’

  ‘How’s it all going … financially?’ Gina asked the question carefully. Amy hadn’t spoken about her dad’s business for a while and Gina hoped this wasn’t because things were bad.

  ‘My dad keeps saying lots of reassuring things,’ Amy began, ‘but I can’t help worrying. I mean … he’s working really hard, building his business up again. But if things go wrong, I know I’ll have to leave the school … and that would be really hard.’

  ‘Try not to worry,’ Gina said sympathetically. ‘It might all work out just fine and you’ll have wasted lots of time stressing.’

  Amy pushed a smile onto her face. ‘You’re right. You’re totally right. How’s the essay coming on?’ she asked, wanting to change the subject.

  ‘Finished.’ Gina managed a smile. ‘But I still haven’t made the Big Decision.’

  ‘The Boyfriend Choice? Oh for goodness’ sake! You’re going to have to stop or you’re going to drive us all bananas. Look, shall I just take Dermot off your hands?’ Amy joked. ‘That will solve everyone’s problems because then I’ll have a boyfriend, Dermot won’t be sad and lonely and you’ll be free to snog Callum until your chin is raw.’

  ‘Very funny. But would you go out with Dermot … if I wasn’t going out with him?’

  ‘No. Not my type. I like them tall, dark, very handsome and completely uninterested in me. That is my type. Jason, you’ll remember …’

  ‘How could we forget?’ Gina said with a roll of her eyes. ‘Jason, who turned out to be dating some model-a-like at the same time as you.’

  ‘Yeah … the boy with the gazelle on the side. Then there was Finn …’ Amy trailed off.