Don't Kiss Him Good-Bye (12 page)

“What?” I blurted. “I’m fifteen—I’ll be sixteen in July—and I’ve never been kissed. I’ve never even
danced
with a guy if you don’t count my dad and my crazy uncle Ed. I’m plenty old-fashioned, too.”

She grinned. “Okay. So, if you
were
to dance with someone, who would it be?”

I thought. “Well, I dunno. I had a crush on Jack—but don’t tell Melissa, ’cause I don’t like him anymore. I normally don’t like blonds, so I don’t know what that was all about. Probably because he was the editor of the paper.”

“Rhys is blond.”

“Thank you for helpfully pointing that out.” I swung my bag over my shoulder, and we made our way through the courtyard.

“Tommy is a brunet. Prefer them?” she teased. “Opposites attract and all that.”

“Is this payback for the kiss comment?” I asked.

“Nope. I am your best friend, though, aren’t I? You can’t go on pretending you don’t like him whilst you really do.”

I didn’t answer, and I guess in a way that was an answer in itself. Instead I pointed at the ancient, arthritic fingers of wood curling around the arbors leading to her home, Hill House. “Have you noticed that the wisterias are starting to bloom, and their blooms actually look like clusters of juicy grapes?”

Penny said nothing for a minute. “That’s lovely, Savvy. It’s no wonder you want to be a writer. How do you know so much about flowers?”

“My mother is—was—a great gardener. She loved to garden at our old house. But she hasn’t been able to do much here yet.”

“My mum is a gardener too,” Penny said.

Just then we arrived at Hill House and walked up the long drive to the front door, where two Irish setters enthusiastically bounded out to greet us. For Penny’s sake I gritted my teeth and pretended to like the dogs jumping all over me. They were happy, after all. But Louanne was the dog person in our family.

I followed Penny into her kitchen. “Hello, Mrs. Barrowman.”

“Well, hullo, Savannah,” she replied. Penny’s mother was wearing a cashmere sweater set, wool pants, and pearls. I noticed a housekeeper bustling about in the background. “You’ll stay for supper tonight, then?”

“Yes, thank you for the invitation,” I said. I hoped there wouldn’t be lots of strange utensils like oyster forks and fish knives that I had no idea how to use. Didn’t want to embarrass Penny.

“Let’s go upstairs,” Penny said after kissing her mother on the cheek.

I followed her up the long, twisty stairway and into her suite—I mean, room. Once there she threw her book bag in the corner and slipped on her fuzzy slippers. “I found a new quiz for us.” She threw a magazine my way. I started making check marks in blue ink—Penny had already answered in red—to see what my conflict style was.

“So did you find a fancy dress?”

“A . . . what?”

“A fancy dress,” I said. “You know, for the ball.”

She giggled. “Oh, Savvy.
Fancy dress
means a costume. I really couldn’t show up at the ball in a costume, right?”

I blushed at my mistake. “Still learning British English,” I mumbled.

“I know,” she said kindly. “But no, I didn’t find anything to wear.”

I set down the magazine. “Really? I thought for sure you did but you weren’t telling me about it because you didn’t want to hurt my feelings.”

“Really, I didn’t find anything,” she said. “The other girls found stuff. Most of the dresses were really cute. Except Chloe’s was a little . . . awkward looking.”

I crooked my eyebrow at her, and we both laughed. I was sure Chloe’s dress looked great. But Penny was a loyal friend. “I went to Be@titude on Friday, and they had great dresses. Do you want to run down there before dinner and check them out?”

“You don’t mind?” Penny asked.

“Not at all. We should get there before the best dresses are gone.”

Penny leaped up. “Perfect! I had fun with the girls on Friday, but I really missed your advice. You know, a lot of their dresses were kind of uptight, and I’m going for a more, uh, relaxed look now.”

She ran downstairs to make sure her mom was fine with our going, and then we took off to the village square. “I’ve got to drop something off at the post for my mum,” she said. We walked into the chemist’s shop, which had the post office in the back, and she handed the letter across the counter to the postman.

He looked at me and grinned. “How’s the writing coming, Miss Smith?”

I grinned back. “My pen has yet to run out of ink!” I was one of the few people who knew his secret—that he was “Father Christmas” too. I still had the
Times
of London pen he’d delivered to my house on Christmas Day.

A few minutes later Penny and I arrived at Be@titude.

“You’re back!” Becky said. “I’m so glad. The dress is still here.” She headed over to the rounder, pulled out the Faerie dress, and held it up.

Penny looked at me. “Dress?”

“Not for me.” I shook my head. “My friend Penny needs one, though.”

“Oh yes, sure,” Becky recovered nicely, sliding Faeries back onto the rack. After talking with Penny for a few minutes to get an idea of what kind of style she liked and what kind of shoes she preferred, she ran through the store and gathered up a few dresses, slung them over her arm like puffy bags of multicolored cotton candy, and headed back to the try-on rooms. “Just let me know if you need help!” she called out as Penny disappeared into the room. I sat on one of the chairs outside the try-ons and waited for Penny to appear.

Meanwhile, I had an incoming text. It was Rhys, wanting to know what I was doing. I started texting back.

“Ahem.” I heard Penny clear her throat.

“Oh, sorry,” I said. “Rhys gets mad if I don’t text him back, like, right away.” I pushed Send and turned off my phone.

A disconcerted look crossed Penny’s face, but it passed quickly. Then she looked down at her dress. “What not to wear?” she asked.

It was a pink confection that made Penny look like Glinda the Good Witch from
The Wizard of Oz
. Definitely a no-go. We both burst into laughter as Penny pretended to have a magic wand. “No fancy dress,” I reminded her.

The second dress, a deep purple one, was a bit too mature. “Vampire getup,” she said.

The last dress was perfect. Teal blue and shot through with silver, it had a close-fitted sweetheart bodice and ended midcalf with a little Spanish flounce. “One of a kind,” Becky said. “No one else will be wearing this one!”

Penny and I looked at each other, and then she turned back to the three-way mirror and spun around before looking at me again. We said it at the same time: “It’s perfect!” Then we jumped up and down and squealed like seven-year-olds.

Becky agreed to put it on hold till Penny could come back the next day with her mom and pay for it. “The bill can tot up rather quickly,” Becky said.

“Mum can help me pick out some accessories too,” Penny said. “I know she was looking forward to shopping together.”

On the way out of the shop, Becky caught my arm. “Thanks for bringing in a friend, Savvy. Every little bit helps.”

“You’re welcome,” I said. Penny headed out ahead of me, and before I walked out the door, I glanced back one last time at the Faerie dress.

Chapter 24

We sat at the dinner table with Penny’s mother, father, and older brother. Her oldest brother was away at university.

“Tell us a bit about your family and how you got to London,” Mrs. Barrowman said.

I shared about my dad’s job and how he’d been offered a chance to move here for at least a few years, maybe for good, and that we’d decided as a family it would be a fun adventure.

“And has it?” Penny’s brother asked.

“Mostly,” I said. “I’m starting to feel like I really fit in here.”

“Welcome home,” her dad said kindly.

“Her mum likes to garden.” Penny turned toward her mother. “Just like you!”

“Well, then,” Mrs. Barrowman said, “perhaps she’d like to come on the second . . . ?”

I saw Penny catch her mother’s eye and shake her head ever so slightly. Mrs. Barrowman let her voice drop and then picked up another topic. “Pudding, anyone?” She stood to clear the dishes. I knew pudding meant all desserts. There was a general murmur of approval. Penny got up to help her mother clear the dishes but indicated that I should stay in my seat.

“You’re a guest,” she said. I had the feeling, though, that she wanted to talk with her mom in private, in the kitchen.

I sat there, a bit deflated. Had her mother just been about to invite my mom to a gardening event, something my mom would love? It sure seemed like it. So why had Penny shushed her?

I made it through the pudding with a smile fixed to my face, but I was pretty eager to get home. Her dad drove me, and Penny and I made small talk, but I ended up thinking that maybe I had used the wrong fork or something. Or maybe it was my fancy dress mistake.

Did Penny think my mom wouldn’t fit in with her mom’s upper-class friends?

Did I know Penny as well as I thought I did?

Chapter 25