Rachel Does Rome by Nicola Doherty

saying yes to things, Maggie, so I want you to be able
     to meet Rob,’ I add, feeling weaselly.
    Maggie glances at Lily, then at me.
    ‘But you don’t want to go, do you?’
    ‘I don’t mind going there just for an hour or so. To show I’m not sulking. That’s
     if you guys are keen.’ And I’m mildly interested myself to hear what Jay has to say.
     And to show him what he’s missing, i.e. my new dress and me inside it. Not shallow
     at
all
.
    ‘Well, I did like his friend,’ says Maggie frankly. ‘How about you, Lily?’
    ‘I’ll go anywhere,’ says Lily. ‘Does he have good taste in clubs, this Jay?’
    ‘That’s the one thing he does have. It’s bound to be a very cool place.’
    So I send Jay a quick text saying we’ll go to the club though we might not stay very
     long. He texts back immediately:
You’ve made my day. Just getting the address.
He texts it to me, then adds:
See you outside at 9. Jx
    Two texts in the space of two minutes. How different from the time when he used to
     take hours or even days, before sending me a text that I would pore over like the
     Dead Sea Scrolls. I wait a while – let him sweat for a change – before replying:
OK
. Short and sweet. It feels good to have the upper hand, for once. Not that I’m getting
     into any kind of thing with Jay again; I’m just happy to be able to show him I don’t
     care about him.
    After enjoying the sun for a little longer, we decide to go back to the hotel for
     Maggie to have some quiet time, and for me to have a disco nap to recover from all
     the lunchtime Prosecco. When we all reconvene, around seven, Maggie decides it’s time
     to give me a makeover and produces an enormous case full of brushes and eye shadows.
    It’s ironic that she and Lily both have one older brother, and yet they know more
     about make-up than me, with two sisters. My sisters and I were enthusiastic about
     make-up rather than skilful. A slick of Rimmel Heather Shimmer, all-over fake tan
     and maybe some hair mascara, and we were ready for the bright lights of Celbridge.
     We never wore blusher: sure, why would we want our faces to look redder than they
     were already?
    ‘What do you think?’ asks Maggie when she’s finished, sitting back.
    ‘Wow! I look so different.’ Really, really striking and sort of . . . smouldering.
     I’ve never seen my eyes look so big, or dramatic. And for the first time I can see
     the point of blusher.
    ‘I love it!’ I tell Maggie, who looks delighted.
    We get dressed – in the girls’ room for company – and it’s like being fifteen again
     as we all jostle for room at the mirror, with Lady GaGa playing on Lily’s phone. They
     both look fantastic: Lily in a striped-and-floral midi dress that she describes as
     a Man Repeller, and Maggie in a lemon-yellow chiffon strapless dress. When I compliment
     it, she tells me it’s from the Kate Moss Topshop collection, and she got up at six
     a.m. to buy it online. That’s dedication. Lily lends me her black-and-white striped
     blazer to wear over my raspberry dress.
    None of us can face getting to grips with public transport here, so we ask the hotel
     to call us a taxi. And ten minutes later, we’re speeding along through the streets
     of Rome towards the Villa Borghese.
    When I see the queue at the entrance to the darkened park, my worries about being
     overdressed disappear, and instead I start to worry that I’m going to be
under
dressed. I’ve never seen such a glamorous crowd gathered anywhere. The men are all
     in dark suits and the women are all in tiny designer dresses, Fendi baguettes dangling
     from manicured fingers, striding effortlessly in sky-high heels. Everyone is smoking
     and talking non-stop while also simultaneously seeming very bored.
    We’re walking to the back of the queue when I hear my name being called. I turn around;
     it’s Jay, with his two friends.
    ‘Rachel,’ he says, as we walk towards him. ‘You look
fantastic
.’ He looks