seemed hard and fortified, that she could forgive anything. Mandy was sure though that when the smart clothes came off and Alison was sitting in her dressing gown and slippers she probably asked herself over and over why Mandy hadn’t told anyone where the girls had gone for five hours.
Five hours that could have changed everything.
Eight
The party was due to start at nine. She’d been going to meet Tommy early at a coffee bar on the high street but he’d texted her to say that he had something to do first and would see her at Zoe’s house. That meant that she would have to go alone. She hesitated, wondering what to do. There were some other girls that she could meet up with but she didn’t want to.
She didn’t really have any girl friends in the sixth form. Her closest friend had been Sophie Brewer but her parents had moved house just after Christmas and Sophie was now at a school in Barnet. At first Mandy had kept in touch with her, talking for ages on the phone or sending a stream of emails letting her know what was going on in school. She’d stayed at her new house for a couple of weekends and Sophie had shown her around her new neighbourhood. The contact had lessened though as the months went by. They’d met in Oxford Street a few times for shopping trips but Sophie’s stories about her new school and her new friends made Mandy feel left out. She began to make excuses. The contact waned and by the summer holidays she realised that she hadn’t sent a text or email or rung Sophie for weeks. She’d not even bothered to look at her Facebook page.
There were friendly girls in school and she often sat with groups that she’d known over the years. It was easy to slip in and out of these relationships as it suited her. When she thought about it, her friendship with Sophie had been a bit like that anyway. Sophie had two younger sisters and a lot of her time was taken up with family stuff. Mandy’s friendship with her had always come second place to the things she did in her family. Mandy didn’t mind. She often looked round at girls in class who were panicking at the thought of spending a lesson apart from their friend and she sneered. It was better to be self-contained. She could find friendship when she needed it. That way there were no emotional demands made on her.
She decided to go to Zoe’s party on her own. She spent a while looking critically at the top and jeans that she’d bought. She tried them on and walked up and down her room in the high heels and realised, with a sinking heart, that these were probably the kind of clothes that Tommy would hate. High street garments that were no doubt made in third-world countries. On top of that they were someone else’s style. Tommy would see all that in a moment, even though he’d be too good mannered to say it to her.
She sat down on the corner of her bed. In the shop she’d been carried away with thinking how good the red looked against her skin and that the black jeans made her legs look long. Then there were the shoes. She didn’t usually wear heels but these caught her eye. There’d been loud music playing in the shop and the assistant had said that all the girls who worked there had bought a pair of these. So in a moment’s extravagance she’d decided to have them.
She should have gone to a charity shop.
Then she wondered if she could say that she’d got these from a charity shop. She held one up in the air. The red leather was pristine. She would need to scuff them up a bit to make it look as though they’d been worn by someone else, if only for a short time. ‘Look at this, I picked them up for half nothing,’ she would say and Tommy would think that was good because she was recycling something.
The jeans were plain enough. She could wear a black top over them. She could add her home-made jewellery. This was one thing that Tommy approved of about her. He loved that she made these bracelets and necklaces.
Five hours that could have changed everything.
Eight
The party was due to start at nine. She’d been going to meet Tommy early at a coffee bar on the high street but he’d texted her to say that he had something to do first and would see her at Zoe’s house. That meant that she would have to go alone. She hesitated, wondering what to do. There were some other girls that she could meet up with but she didn’t want to.
She didn’t really have any girl friends in the sixth form. Her closest friend had been Sophie Brewer but her parents had moved house just after Christmas and Sophie was now at a school in Barnet. At first Mandy had kept in touch with her, talking for ages on the phone or sending a stream of emails letting her know what was going on in school. She’d stayed at her new house for a couple of weekends and Sophie had shown her around her new neighbourhood. The contact had lessened though as the months went by. They’d met in Oxford Street a few times for shopping trips but Sophie’s stories about her new school and her new friends made Mandy feel left out. She began to make excuses. The contact waned and by the summer holidays she realised that she hadn’t sent a text or email or rung Sophie for weeks. She’d not even bothered to look at her Facebook page.
There were friendly girls in school and she often sat with groups that she’d known over the years. It was easy to slip in and out of these relationships as it suited her. When she thought about it, her friendship with Sophie had been a bit like that anyway. Sophie had two younger sisters and a lot of her time was taken up with family stuff. Mandy’s friendship with her had always come second place to the things she did in her family. Mandy didn’t mind. She often looked round at girls in class who were panicking at the thought of spending a lesson apart from their friend and she sneered. It was better to be self-contained. She could find friendship when she needed it. That way there were no emotional demands made on her.
She decided to go to Zoe’s party on her own. She spent a while looking critically at the top and jeans that she’d bought. She tried them on and walked up and down her room in the high heels and realised, with a sinking heart, that these were probably the kind of clothes that Tommy would hate. High street garments that were no doubt made in third-world countries. On top of that they were someone else’s style. Tommy would see all that in a moment, even though he’d be too good mannered to say it to her.
She sat down on the corner of her bed. In the shop she’d been carried away with thinking how good the red looked against her skin and that the black jeans made her legs look long. Then there were the shoes. She didn’t usually wear heels but these caught her eye. There’d been loud music playing in the shop and the assistant had said that all the girls who worked there had bought a pair of these. So in a moment’s extravagance she’d decided to have them.
She should have gone to a charity shop.
Then she wondered if she could say that she’d got these from a charity shop. She held one up in the air. The red leather was pristine. She would need to scuff them up a bit to make it look as though they’d been worn by someone else, if only for a short time. ‘Look at this, I picked them up for half nothing,’ she would say and Tommy would think that was good because she was recycling something.
The jeans were plain enough. She could wear a black top over them. She could add her home-made jewellery. This was one thing that Tommy approved of about her. He loved that she made these bracelets and necklaces.
Similar Books
