Rivalry at Silver Spires (14 page)

The glinting sun in this English spring is like a dim reminder of the bright sun that bakes the earth of Ghana, and I can't stop my thoughts from slipping away to all the poor people I saw last week during half-term, when I went with my family to visit our home country. It made me sad and cross when I met a girl called Abina and saw with my own eyes what she has to do every day. She's twelve years old, the same age as me, and at five o'clock each morning she goes to a muddy waterhole, where animals drink, to collect water for her family. It takes hours for the water to seep through the ground and for the mud to settle, and even then it's dirty and not safe to drink. But I visited other villages in north Ghana where a charity called Just Water has built wells and installed hand pumps, so the people there can have clean water.

My father is the president of Just Water and now I've started to help the charity too. I'm really pleased to do this work because I feel so lucky to have the life I've got, when there are so many people in northern Ghana who don't even survive to my age. How can that be fair? I repeat this question over and over like a mantra to myself, when I'm out here alone in the fresh English country air. But I never come up with any answers, just resolutions never to forget the people of Ghana.

Sitting here on my bench, I shivered as I looked at my watch, and got a shock because it was six thirty. I only had a few minutes to shake off African Princess Naomi and get myself back into regular-Year-Seven-Silver-Spires Naomi, having supper with her friends. Well, to tell the truth I never completely shake the princess part of me away, but I always try my best to keep it well hidden.

As I got nearer to our boarding house, Hazeldean, I saw Katy standing outside, her shoulders hunched up and her arms folded tightly. She waved when she saw me and came running over.

I hugged her. “You look frozen, Kates!”

“So do you!”

We laughed and I realized she was right. “I've been wrapped up in my thoughts in the secret garden, but I can't say they kept out the cold very well!”

“I guessed you'd be there,” said Katy, looking suddenly serious. “Are you okay?”

I knew why she was asking me that. She'd listened in complete silence yesterday evening when I'd told her all about my time in Ghana, and at the end she'd said she felt guilty that I'd spent my half-term working for a charity while she'd been having a great time in LA with her mum. “You make me feel really spoiled, Naomi,” were her precise words. But I'd quickly told her not to be silly, because Katy and her mum are so close and don't get to spend much time together, and anyway, I felt ten times more spoiled than that when I saw Abina's school – which was scarcely more than a tree and a wooden hut – and I compared it with Silver Spires.

“I can't stop thinking about Abina,” I told her quietly, as we walked across to the dining hall, which is in the main building.

“You can't do any more than you're doing, working for Just Water,” Katy said, linking arms with me.

Maybe she was right, but it didn't stop a little niggling voice telling me I must do more.

“Slow down, you two!” came Georgie's urgent cry from way behind. Katy and I turned round to see her half walking, half jogging, as though she was on her last legs at the end of a torturous marathon. “Why do people move so fast round here?”

I couldn't help smiling as we waited for her to catch us up. Georgie is always so dramatic, but in a lovely way.

“I lost track of the time watching my
Ugly Betty
DVD,” she informed us in her puffed-out voice, when she finally drew level. “It's totally cool. You should see it. I'm starving now, though. What's on the menu, do you know?”

“Haven't a clue,” said Katy, as I slipped back into my other world for a moment, thinking about poverty and starvation. But I quickly shook the thoughts away. I knew they didn't do anyone any good.

Georgie's best friend, Mia, was in the queue for food, and beckoned to us lot to join her, but I didn't think it was fair all three of us pushing in like that, so just Georgie went ahead. A moment later she was straight back, full of something she was dying to tell us. “Mia says that one of the Year Elevens has been looking for you, Naomi!”

I frowned and wondered what that was about. “Did Mia say who?”

“Someone called Elise. I think she's that one with the hair like Rachel from
Friends
, but Mia said she couldn't really remember what her hair was like, just that she seemed a bit put out that you weren't around, and even more put out when Mia said she'd no idea where you were.” Georgie winked at us and added, “Yeah, right!” All my friends knew that if I wasn't around then I was probably in the secret garden, and they'd never let on about it. Then she looked thoughtful. “Actually I don't think it
can
have been Elise, because she's got a reputation for never deigning to speak to anyone below Year Ten!”

A few minutes later I was sitting at a table with Katy, Georgie and Mia, listening to Georgie questioning Mia on what “the girl” looked like.

“You're so funny, Georgie!” said Mia. “Totally desperate to know, when Naomi's not particularly bothered.”

Georgie didn't seem to hear her. “The thing is, if it
was
Elise, it must have been something pretty important.” She was getting impatient. “Come on, guys, what do you reckon?”

I shrugged and changed the subject, because I'd suddenly realized I hadn't seen Grace and Jess since the last lesson. “Where are the other two?”

“There!” said Georgie, nodding towards the door and looking quite impressed with herself, as though she'd personally magicked them up for my pleasure.

I grinned at her, and Katy and I squished up a bit on the bench to make room for them.

“One of the Year Elevens was looking for you,” said Grace, as she sat down.

“Whoa! Sounding urgent now!
Quelle intrigue!
” said Georgie, putting on a French accent.

“Who was it?” Katy asked.

“A girl called Elise,” Grace replied.

Georgie gasped. “That one who looks like Rachel from
Friends
?”

Grace wrinkled her nose. “Er…does she?” Grace is the least into looks and fashion out of all of us. Her passion is sport, and when she's not in her school uniform she's in her tracksuit.

It was Jess who answered Georgie's question. “Yes, she's got streaky blonde hair and always wears a big slide holding half of it back. And she's got a long neck and wide shoulders, and wears quite a bit of make-up,” she added, which made us all laugh, it was such unexpected detail.

“What's funny about that?” asked Jess.

“Nothing!” said Grace, sticking up for her best friend. “We're all just jealous of your artist's eye that picks up every little thing.”

“Did she say what she wanted?” asked Katy.

“It was straight after school when we saw her and she didn't seem too pleased that she might have to wait till supper before she saw Naomi,” Grace said. Then she lowered her voice as she turned to me. “Don't worry, we didn't tell her where she could find you.”

“Even though I reckon she would have paid us for the info,” Jess added. “She looked so…so keen to get hold of you.”

“Wow!” said Georgie. “I'd better be there when she
does
track you down!”

“Looks like your wish has come true,” said Mia quietly.

We all followed her gaze and saw a much older student marching purposefully in our direction.

“That's her!” hissed Georgie. “That's Elise!”

I don't know why, but I suddenly felt uneasy. I hate being the centre of attention and I found myself crossing my fingers that everyone was mistaken, and Elise wanted to speak to someone else. Anyone but me.

She squatted down in between Georgie and me, and Georgie immediately swizzled round a bit and leaned forwards. The others were all silent too, as though waiting for a show to begin.

Elise blinked a bit and I saw how thick her mascara was. She looked annoyed about everyone tuning in. “Er…when you've finished, Naomi, I'd like a word,” she said.

I wanted to get whatever it was over with, so I started to get up. “I've finished
now
.”

“Are you sure?” She was eyeing my half-eaten cheesecake, but there was no way I could manage it. I was just too nervous.

I followed her out of the dining hall, certain the others were all staring after me, and as soon as we were in the corridor she turned into an empty classroom and shut the door. She perched on a desk while I stood opposite her. Now I was really nervous. Her face was so serious I began to wonder if I'd done something terribly wrong and was about to get a big telling-off.

“Naomi…” She suddenly broke into a huge smile, then leaned forwards and grabbed both my wrists dramatically. “I've got something to ask you. I know you're going to find it totally unusual and you might wonder if I've got a screw loose or something, but believe me, I
do
know what I'm doing.” She nodded slowly and paused, her eyes sparkling as she looked straight into mine. “I'd like
you
…” Another pause. I wished she'd just finish her sentence. “…to be one of my two models for the fashion show at the end of term!”

I didn't understand what she meant. Katy is totally into fashion and wants to be a designer when she's older, so I did know that there was going to be a fashion show. But I was certain Katy had said it was for GCSE textile students, because I could remember her saying she couldn't wait till she was in Year Ten so she could take part. Then I suddenly had a thought. Maybe Elise had somehow got to hear about the incredible hip wraps and bracelets that Katy made for all of us just before half-term for Chinese New Year, and she thought I was the one who'd done them.

“Oh, I think you might be confusing me with Katy. She's a fantastic designer.”

Elise's eyes shot wide open and she dropped my wrists as dramatically as she had grabbed them. “It's nothing to do with design.
I'm
the designer. I'm saying I want you to model for me.” She suddenly frowned. “You
are
Naomi Okanta, aren't you?”

I felt myself tensing right up, but I wasn't sure why.

“Yes,” I replied, a bit abruptly.

She looked startled and I suddenly felt like a cheeky little girl talking back to a teacher, even though she was only a Year Eleven. I think I must have sounded really rude. “But…I'm only Year Seven…”

She suddenly smiled at me as though I was a bit too young to get the hang of things, and then she spoke slowly and deliberately. “Okay, Naomi, the fashion show is for the students taking GCSE textiles this year, and yes, it's true that most of them have chosen their models from Years Ten and Eleven. But…” She opened her eyes wide, then broke into an even bigger smile. “…there's nothing in the rules to say that you can't have a model from any year! And let's get one thing straight, I
didn't
choose you because you're a princess. No way.”

I still felt uncomfortable though. What other reason could there be for choosing a Year Seven, except that I was quite tall? And if she particularly wanted a black model, there were plenty of other black girls higher up the school.

“I…I don't get why you want me…?”

She tipped her head on one side and smiled even more. “Because you've got the most wonderful posture. You stand so straight and walk so smoothly. You're tall and slim and elegant…” She giggled. “Need I say more?”

I couldn't help feeling flattered by what Elise had said, but I still thought there were plenty of other girls who could do it better than me.

“I'm not sure…”

I thought I saw a tiny flash of annoyance cross her face. Maybe I should be jumping at the chance. I knew Katy would. But that's only because fashion is totally Katy's scene. Georgie would grasp the opportunity with both hands too, because she absolutely loves performing. I think the others would probably be like me, though – a bit scared of the unknown.

Elise paused thoughtfully before she said her next words. “It's a big charity event, you know, Naomi.”

My ears pricked up. “Oh, I didn't realize that. What charity is it?”

“Er…it's not completely been decided yet. I told Miss Owen – she's the textiles teacher who's in charge of the whole thing – that I thought it should be a Third World charity.”

I found myself getting really interested now, as a picture of Abina flashed through my mind. “So when will it be decided?”

Elise was looking at me carefully. “Well, the thing is, Miss Owen is open to suggestions. Do you…have a preference?”

“Yes, Just Water for Ghana!” I blurted out. “That's an amazing charity. Only forty-four per cent of—”

“Okay! Just Water…right…” Elise jumped up. “I'll put it to Miss Owen. She's been asking for specific ideas.” She touched my arm. “So…are you saying yes to being my number one model?”

“I…I…” My head was swimming with doubts. I hate being the centre of attention. And I'd be terrified being the only Year Seven amongst a load of Year Tens and Elevens. But if I could do anything to help Just Water, then I should.

Elise must have seen the struggle I was having. “Don't worry, Naomi. Think about it for a couple of days and I'll talk to Miss Owen about whether we can choose your charity…what was it? Just Water?”

I nodded.

“I'll get her to look it up on the internet. Then I'll come and find you tomorrow and you can tell me what you've decided, all right?”

I nodded weakly and she was gone like a whirlwind, leaving me in a strange daze, still flattered to have been asked and excited at the thought that I might be able to do something for my beloved charity, but confused and uneasy, and not really sure why.