playing fields that stretched away into the distance and disappeared into hedges and woodland. ‘We’re in the middle of bloody nowhere! I’m going to die of boredom if I have to stay here much longer.’
‘What’s the hurry?’ Romily said, carefully painting pearly clear polish on to her nails as she sat at her desk. Polish was forbidden, of course, but she got round that in her usual way: she did what she wanted, but subtly, so no one would notice. ‘Besides, we can’t make it go any faster, even if we want to.’
‘You’re so unromantic, Rom,’ grumbled Allegra. ‘Don’t you want to get out? Get away from school bloody uniform and start living properly? We’re completely sex-starved. It’s just not natural.’
Romily shrugged. She refused to let frustration get the better of her, the way Allegra did. ‘Maybe. But I can’t see the point in letting it make you miserable.’
‘It’s all right for you. You get to live so glamorously when you’re not at school. Come on, tell us what you’re doing in the holidays.’
‘Well, the first bit of July I’ll be in Paris and there are some parties and things to go to. Then my mother is taking me on our usual tour: Venice, St Tropez, Cap d’Antibes and the Moncivellos’ palace in Tuscany. Then we go to Chrypkos for the rest of the summer, and back to Paris for fittings and clothes shopping for the autumn.’ Romily looked up at the other two, her big brown eyes candid. ‘Nothing special. Just the usual.’
Allegra and Imogen looked at each other and burst out laughing.
‘What?’ demanded Romily, hurt. ‘What’s so funny?’
‘Oh, Rom, only you can talk about a summer itinerary like that and call it nothing special!’ spluttered Allegra.
‘You’ve got a private island, for God’s sake!’ cried Imogen. ‘How normal is that?’
Romily frowned at them and then gave in, rolled her eyes and smiled. ‘All right, all right. I get it.’
It was partly because the other two teased her that she felt so comfortable with them. She’d arrived at Westfield two years after most of the girls and at first she’d been very lonely indeed. For one thing, she didn’t look like any of the others . While they tried their best to scruff themselves up and break the uniform rules, Romily had been perfectly turned out every day, in the most expensive shoes, tights and uniform that could be bought. She had been told off for wearing real diamond studs in her ears – they had been taken away and put in the school safe – and for putting on mascara for her lessons, which was strictly forbidden. The other girls had laughed at her skincare routine, when the idea of not following it had seemed heretical to her.
She had been, she could see now, very French, and also very sheltered. Her family’s wealth had kept her removed from the world and she’d found the life of an English girls’ boarding school extremely strange. Just when she had thought she would never understand and couldn’t bear it any longer, Allegra rescued her. She came to her cubie one afternoon and asked if Romily would draw a picture of Queen Victoria for her history project, because she was sure Romily would be brilliant at it. ‘After all, your grandfather was a famous artist, wasn’t he?’
Romily had laughed and explained that although her grandfather had indeed been a very famous artist, she was only capable of drawing stick men and cats. Nevertheless, she would try and draw Queen Victoria if that was what Allegra wanted. Her attempt was so bad that Allegra said she thought perhaps she would give it a go herself.
Romily had already noticed Allegra and Imogen, of course, partly because of Allegra’s striking looks and mischievous nature – even Romily had laughed when Allegra had remained hidden under a pile of science overalls for an entire lesson while Mrs Crawford taught on, oblivious – and partly because they always seemed to be talking and laughing together, engrossed in each
‘What’s the hurry?’ Romily said, carefully painting pearly clear polish on to her nails as she sat at her desk. Polish was forbidden, of course, but she got round that in her usual way: she did what she wanted, but subtly, so no one would notice. ‘Besides, we can’t make it go any faster, even if we want to.’
‘You’re so unromantic, Rom,’ grumbled Allegra. ‘Don’t you want to get out? Get away from school bloody uniform and start living properly? We’re completely sex-starved. It’s just not natural.’
Romily shrugged. She refused to let frustration get the better of her, the way Allegra did. ‘Maybe. But I can’t see the point in letting it make you miserable.’
‘It’s all right for you. You get to live so glamorously when you’re not at school. Come on, tell us what you’re doing in the holidays.’
‘Well, the first bit of July I’ll be in Paris and there are some parties and things to go to. Then my mother is taking me on our usual tour: Venice, St Tropez, Cap d’Antibes and the Moncivellos’ palace in Tuscany. Then we go to Chrypkos for the rest of the summer, and back to Paris for fittings and clothes shopping for the autumn.’ Romily looked up at the other two, her big brown eyes candid. ‘Nothing special. Just the usual.’
Allegra and Imogen looked at each other and burst out laughing.
‘What?’ demanded Romily, hurt. ‘What’s so funny?’
‘Oh, Rom, only you can talk about a summer itinerary like that and call it nothing special!’ spluttered Allegra.
‘You’ve got a private island, for God’s sake!’ cried Imogen. ‘How normal is that?’
Romily frowned at them and then gave in, rolled her eyes and smiled. ‘All right, all right. I get it.’
It was partly because the other two teased her that she felt so comfortable with them. She’d arrived at Westfield two years after most of the girls and at first she’d been very lonely indeed. For one thing, she didn’t look like any of the others . While they tried their best to scruff themselves up and break the uniform rules, Romily had been perfectly turned out every day, in the most expensive shoes, tights and uniform that could be bought. She had been told off for wearing real diamond studs in her ears – they had been taken away and put in the school safe – and for putting on mascara for her lessons, which was strictly forbidden. The other girls had laughed at her skincare routine, when the idea of not following it had seemed heretical to her.
She had been, she could see now, very French, and also very sheltered. Her family’s wealth had kept her removed from the world and she’d found the life of an English girls’ boarding school extremely strange. Just when she had thought she would never understand and couldn’t bear it any longer, Allegra rescued her. She came to her cubie one afternoon and asked if Romily would draw a picture of Queen Victoria for her history project, because she was sure Romily would be brilliant at it. ‘After all, your grandfather was a famous artist, wasn’t he?’
Romily had laughed and explained that although her grandfather had indeed been a very famous artist, she was only capable of drawing stick men and cats. Nevertheless, she would try and draw Queen Victoria if that was what Allegra wanted. Her attempt was so bad that Allegra said she thought perhaps she would give it a go herself.
Romily had already noticed Allegra and Imogen, of course, partly because of Allegra’s striking looks and mischievous nature – even Romily had laughed when Allegra had remained hidden under a pile of science overalls for an entire lesson while Mrs Crawford taught on, oblivious – and partly because they always seemed to be talking and laughing together, engrossed in each
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