Cathy Hopkins - [Mates, Dates 01] (14 page)

Izzie wanted to return
to one stall to have a toe ring fitted so Nesta and I decided to go and watch
one of the catwalk shows. We turned a corner and I walked smack into Josie.

‘Ah, the midget,’ she
said, then looked me up and down and laughed. ‘What have you got on? The
Eastern look was out years ago. You look like an advert for curry in a hurry.’

All her friends
started laughing and suddenly my newfound confidence failed me.

‘She made those
clothes herself and I think she looks fantastic,’ said Nesta, coming to my
defence. ‘I don’t suppose someone with your IQ could even sew on a button.’

‘Ahhhh,’ said Josie.
‘Made them yourself, did you? Poor thing. Can’t afford new clothes.’ She did a
twirl. ‘My mum brought my outfit back from Milan.’

‘There’s a big
difference between buying expensive labels and having style,’ said Nesta. ‘Lucy
has style. Something you’ll never, ever know about.’

‘And I suppose you
do,’ said Josie, then smiled smugly. ‘Oh and Michael Brenman, you can have him.
I’ve met someone much better.’

Nesta shrugged. ‘Oh
clear off, Josie, I’m not in the mood,’ she said and tried to get away. But as
she walked to the right, Josie and gang walked with her. She tried to walk to
the left, but again they blocked her way. It was starting to feel uncomfortable
as there were four of them and only the two of us, then Josie stepped forward
and trod on Nesta’s foot.

‘Ow!’ she cried. I
winced even though it wasn’t my foot. Josie was wearing high, spiky-heeled
shoes.

‘Oh
sorry
,’
said Josie insincerely. ‘Did that hurt?’

‘Need a hand?’ said a
male voice.

We all turned. It was
Tony. Josie and her mates sprang back straight away.

‘No, I’m fine,’ said
Josie, going all coy and girlie.

‘Not you,’ he said,
brushing her aside and putting his arm round Nesta. ‘You all right, Nesta?’

Josie looked shocked.
Of course she couldn’t know that he was Nesta’s brother, and he was clearly the
best-looking boy in the hall.

‘We were just admiring
Lucy’s outfit,’ lied Josie, and her friends started sniggering again.

Tony turned to me.
‘Looking good, kiddo,’ he said. ‘Come on, girls, I’ll buy you a cappuccino.’

Josie obviously
thought he meant her as well, as she trooped along after us.

He put his arms round
Nesta and me and turned back to Josie. ‘Sorry, three’s company. Four’s a
crowd.’

Ha ha. That showed
her.

‘I thought you liked
girls who are sure of themselves,’ I said as we walked towards the coffee bar.

‘Do me a favour,’ he
said. ‘Yeah, I like confident girls but I don’t like the music turned up
quite
that loud if you get my meaning.’

Tony. I think I’m in
love.

As Tony went to find a
table, Nesta and I queued up to get our drinks. As we stood waiting, I noticed
the redheaded lady in front of us staring. I felt embarrassed and wondered if
my homemade stitching was so obvious.

‘Nice top,’ the woman
said.

I blushed. ‘Thanks.’

‘Where did you get it
from?’ she asked.

‘I made it myself,’ I
said.

The woman looked me up
and down thoroughly. ‘I’m impressed.’

‘She made this top as
well,’ said Nesta, doing a twirl for her.

‘Really?’ the woman
said. ‘You’ve got a good eye. Simple designs always look the best.’

Then she put her hand
in her bag and pulled out a card. ‘Here. Remember me when you’ve finished
college.’

‘College?’ I said.

‘I presume you are
going to do fashion. Design?’

I was taken aback. I’d
never thought of it. Then it felt like the clouds lifted. The way was clear.

‘Yes,’ I grinned back
at her. ‘Course I am.’

‘Well good luck and get
in touch when you finish. I’m always on the look-out for fresh talent and
innovative design.’

Then she bought her
drink and moved away.

Nesta took the card.
‘Ohmigod,’ she said.

‘What?’

‘That was Viv
Purcell.’

The name meant nothing
to me.

‘
The
Viv Purcell.
She’s one of the hippest designers around. Anyone who’s anyone is fighting to
wear one of her outfits.’

I felt myself glowing
with pleasure. She’d picked me out and told me to keep her card. And, best of
all, she’d put her finger on the spot. What I want to be when I grow up. A
designer. Of course, of
course
.

I spent the next hour
cruising round in a rosy glow of happiness. Tony hung round with us for most of
the morning and every time we spotted Josie and crew, she looked sick with
jealousy. Especially when at one point, Tony put his arm round me.

When he was leaving,
he winked and smiled at me. Maybe. I thought. Maybe one day. It wasn’t over
yet.

Of course Nesta got
spotted by her talent scout. She stood out from the crowd like she always does
and was approached by not one but two talent scouts who asked her to get in
touch with them.

We went home, over the
moon. Nesta, her head in the clouds with dreams about being a model. Me, over
the moon because now I knew what made me ‘me’. I knew what I wanted to be when
I grew up. I’d be able to choose my subjects.

Later that evening, I
sat working on my What makes me ‘me’? project when the phone rang.

‘Lucy, it’s me,’ said
Nesta. She sounded as if she’d been crying.

‘What’s the matter?’

‘My mum,’ sobbed
Nesta. ‘She won’t let me phone the agencies.’

‘Why not?’

‘She says I have to
focus on my studies. My life is over. My one chance and she’s ruining it all.’

‘Does she have to
know?’

‘Yes. That’s just it.
Both the scouts said, if I go in to see them I have to take Mum with me.’

‘What does your dad
say?’

‘Same. I rang him in
LA and he said I shouldn’t even think about it yet. My life is over. What else
can I do? You’re so lucky you know what you’re doing. And your mum and dad
aren’t likely to object.’

I knew how she felt.
Wow. Did I know how she felt.

‘Nesta,’ I said,
remembering what Mum had said. ‘There will always be choices. Always. Anyway,
being a model isn’t your only one. You can be an actress as well. And if you
don’t want to do that, you can join a model agency later. You’re not going to
lose your looks.’

We chatted on for
about half an hour and at the end Nesta said, ‘Thanks, Lucy. You’re a really
good friend.’

As she put the phone
down, I realised she was right. I am.

About the author

Cathy Hopkins lives in
North London with her husband Steve and three cats, Barny (a dopey silver
lump), Maisie (a mad tortoiseshell who needs pet counselling) and Molly (a
Persian chinchilla who, according to certain unkind people, looks like someone
flattened her face with a frying pan). Cathy has had sixteen books published,
including
Divorce for Beginners
and
The Revenge of the Essex Girls
.

This is her first book
for Piccadilly Press.

She is working on more
books featuring Lucy, Nesta and Izzie, the next to be titled
Mates, Dates
and Cosmic Kisses.