Paparazzi Princess (12 page)

‘You’re not going to go missing like that day in Harrods, are you?’

Riko looked sheepish. ‘No way. Anyhow, I didn’t go missing. Not really. I hate this time of year. I can’t wait for it to be over. I miss my mates from school. I don’t know anyone in London. I . . . Oh, I didn’t mean to be rude. Of course I know you and Pia, but . . .’

She didn’t have to say it. I wasn’t from her world and she was right. My life was different. I went to school and came home at night. Riko went to boarding school and only saw her family in the holidays. My best mate lived next door. Meg and Flo weren’t far away. ‘It must be hard for you,’ I said. ‘I mean, how do you get to meet people? How do you get to meet
boys
?’

‘Exactly.’ She nodded and looked sad. ‘People think we have it all but actually I can’t see who I want to. I mean . . . I’m lonely in the holidays.’

Alisha had said something similar to me when we’d first got to know each other – that with the lifestyle they had, it was sometimes like living in a gilded cage.

‘What would be your perfect holiday, then?’ I asked.

Riko smiled for the first time that day. ‘Perfect? Hmm . . . Somewhere romantic, I think. Paris with a boy I really liked – in the snow. No minders. No Mum and Dad asking, where are you going? What are you doing? Who are you talking to? Just being able to go where I want, when I want. Just for a short time. Heaven.’

‘Most people want to spend the holidays with their family,’ I said.

‘Yeah. Some of it. Not
all
of it. My parents are so strict.’

As we went into the cinema, I spotted the boy I’d seen a few weeks ago outside the apartment block. He was looking our way. I nudged Riko.

‘I don’t want to worry you but I think we may be being followed,’ I said.

Riko whipped her head round to look but the boy moved away. ‘By who? Where?’

‘He’s gone. A boy I’ve seen hanging about outside Porchester Park. I think he saw me look at him.’

Riko was straining to see. ‘What did he look like?’

‘Slim. Dark. Nice-looking. I thought he was one of the paparazzi at first but he could be a stalker.’

Riko burst out laughing as she scrutinised the crowds. ‘Kidnapper alert!’ she said and it felt as if she was teasing me.

‘Hey. It does happen sometimes. Do you think we should tell your dad?’

Riko’s expression changed. ‘NO! God no. Can you imagine? That would be the end of all my trips out with you. Please don’t say anything, Jess. We aren’t being followed. I was joking about a stalker. It was probably a coincidence that you saw him here.’

‘Are you sure? Because I kind of feel responsible for you.’

‘Chill. I’m fine. Dad knows where we are. Our driver’s waiting outside. Let’s go in and enjoy the movie but . . . first I need to use the Ladies.’

Pia glanced at me. ‘Me too,’ she said.

Riko looked annoyed. ‘Hey come on, I’ve told you before, I don’t need a chaperone.’

‘I know,’ said Pia. ‘But I need to use the Ladies too and quite honestly, after last time, we’re not risking losing you again.’

Riko’s face looked like thunder as Pia escorted her off. Over her shoulder, Pia turned and winked.

When they returned and we took our seats, I could see that Riko was fuming.
What’s her problem?
I wondered.
She seemed almost happy to think that she might have a stalker.
Mr Mori had put her in my care and I liked him and didn’t want to let him down. I needed to ask someone at Porchester Park if they’d seen anyone hanging about in case Riko was in any kind of danger.
She
might not take it seriously but
I
did. But I couldn’t ask Yoram or Didier. It would get straight back to Dad.
Bridget!
I thought.
We’re kind of friends now and she’s always outside the apartment block
. Plus it appeared that Bridget had kept her promise and was trustworthy after all. There hadn’t been a whisper about Tom Cruise in the press after my test for her. Pia and I had checked in all the papers that were delivered to reception every day and he hadn’t got a mention in any of them.

As the movie credits started up, I noticed that Riko had got her phone out and typed a text. The phone bleeped back seconds later.

‘School mate?’ I whispered.

‘Sort of,’ she replied with a slight shift of her shoulder away from me as if to say, ‘It’s private.’

‘Shh,’ said a lady behind us. ‘The movie’s about to start.’

I settled back into my seat but, next to me, I could feel that Riko was restless. She kept turning round as if she was looking for someone. Maybe she was looking for the boy. Maybe she was so lonely, she was desperate for any attention, even from a stalker. Whatever the story, there was
something
going on in the life of Riko Mori that she wasn’t letting on about, that was for sure.

‘Bridget, can I talk to you a sec?’ I asked when I found her the next day. She was having a coffee in the café opposite Porchester Park.

She indicated the empty seat next to her. ‘Sure. How can I help?’

I sat down and glanced out of the window towards Porchester Park to make sure that Yoram or Didier weren’t watching. I could see Didier at a car that had drawn up, so I was safe. ‘Um. Well, I wanted to ask, have you seen anyone strange hanging about round here?’

Bridget laughed. ‘Ah, you mean apart from that bunch of no-hopers over there?’ she asked as she indicated the usual gathered crowd of paparazzi outside. There were fewer of them today I noticed, only four, and they were chatting amongst themselves.

‘No. Not them. I wondered if you’d seen anyone who appears to be maybe watching the place?’

‘Sounds intriguing, Jess. Do you mean old Eddie there?’ she asked and looked in the direction of the homeless man who had taken up residence in a shop doorway again.

‘No. Not him. Younger. Maybe late teens, early twenties?’

‘Ah now, is this an admirer you have?’

‘No. Not me. Just I thought I’d seen someone hanging around watching Porchester Park.’

Bridget thought for a few moments. ‘Hard to say. With the paparazzi permanently parked outside, people often stop and stare – probably hoping to get a glimpse of someone famous. They’re only tourists, passers-by. They soon move on when there’s nothing to see but . . . come to think of it, there has been a boy on a few occasions. I took no notice the first few times but he does seem to be here quite frequently. Never stays long though. Why do you ask?’

‘Oh, nothing.’

‘Sure,’ said Bridget. ‘Nothing that hides a thousand secrets. Is he a boyfriend of yours?’

‘Mine? No! Just . . . I’ve seen someone around a few times and I’ve read stories about rich people being stalked or kidnapped.’

‘My but you have an active imagination. We’ll have to call you Agent Jess. I wouldn’t worry though. I doubt anyone would get past your men over there.’ Bridget glanced towards the front of Porchester Park where Didier had now taken up his usual position outside. ‘Plus the security inside is tight, isn’t it?’

‘Designed by the SAS,’ I said then clapped my hand over my mouth. ‘Oops. I wasn’t supposed to tell you that. Please don’t write it.’

‘In case the SAS track you down,’ said Bridget with a laugh. ‘Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me. Tell you what. I’ll keep an eye out and let you know if he comes back again. Anyway, how’s yourself, Jess?’

‘OK. Kind of looking forward to getting back to school if I’m honest.’

‘No! What teen your age ever says that?’

‘My mates have been away and Porchester Park is empty.’

Bridget nodded. ‘I know. I might be moving on myself soon and as you’ve probably noticed, our numbers are down. There was a rumour Tom Cruise was coming to town but he never showed.’ She had a twinkle in her eye when she said it and I got the feeling that she knew that I’d told her a lie.

‘Er. No, he didn’t, did he?’ I said sheepishly.

‘Can
you
keep a secret?’

I nodded. ‘There was talk that George Clooney was taking an apartment here. No-one knows for sure but that’s why a few of us are hanging around today, even though it’s New Year’s Eve. He’s definitely in town.’

‘I haven’t heard Dad mention it,’ I said. ‘Not that he talks to me about who’s buying into the place.’

‘Age-old story,’ said Bridget.

I laughed. ‘My dad’s OK,’ I said.

Bridget glanced out of the café window at Porchester Park. ‘It’s quite a rare situation you live in over there,’ she said.

‘I guess.’

‘Different worlds, hey?’

‘Yeah.’

Bridget turned back to look at me. ‘Must be hard for you in some ways, living a stone’s throw away from people who have everything and being on the outside. That’s how
I
feel some days, anyway. Seeing them roll up in their limos. Having it all. Us and them.’

I felt as if she’d hit a nerve. That was exactly how it felt some days, but though I was warming to Bridget, I didn’t like her putting me in the same boat as her.

‘I’m not exactly on the outside,’ I said.

‘Are you not? And how’s that?’

‘I . . .’ I wanted her to know that, actually, I was accepted by some of the rich residents. That I
was
in with the in-crowd, unlike her who really
was
an outsider.

‘Some of them are my mates.’

‘Are they now?’

‘Oh yes. Like I’m good friends with Alisha Lewis.’

Bridget looked impressed. ‘Jefferson Lewis’s daughter?’

I nodded. ‘She’s away. She’ll be back soon.’

‘And I’ve seen you go out with the Japanese girl? Isn’t she Mr Mori’s daughter?’

I couldn’t help it – it felt good showing off that I knew some of them personally. ‘Riko. Yeah. I’ve been out with her a few times but Alisha’s more my friend.’

‘That’s nice. Good to have friends.’

I nodded. ‘Yeah.’

‘And what are they like?’

I hesitated then remembered the agreement that Jefferson Lewis had with the press – that they could photograph him but had to leave his children alone. It was surely safe to talk about them, especially to Bridget. ‘Alisha’s cool. Riko’s harder to get to know, like some days she’s more open that others. Sometimes I think it’s hard for people my age at Porchester Park. Some of them I haven’t even seen, they live in such an exclusive world. Although it’s probably fab on many levels, I’d hate it. It’s like there’s a wall between them and the rest of the world.’

Bridget nodded. ‘I think you’re right, Jess. A gilded cage.’

‘That’s exactly what I said. Like, Riko’s at boarding school and finds it hard in the holidays. She told me how lonely she gets.’

‘Is that so? Understandable,’ said Bridget. ‘I’ve often thought that. These rich teens don’t get the freedom you girls get. I mean, how are they supposed to get out and meet boys for one thing?’

‘Exactly,’ I said. It seemed like Bridget really understood and it was good to talk to someone who seemed genuinely interested. If I tried to talk to Dad about the teen residents, he always seemed to make out that it was none of my business. ‘When I first moved in, I thought they had it all but when I got to know Alisha, I realised that she just wanted what I had. Mad that, isn’t it? Like, she enjoys being rich and stuff but she knows that mates are what’s important.’

‘They are, especially at your age. You need people you can trust. That must be another problem for them. They don’t know who wants to be friends with them genuinely or who wants to get in with them because of who their parents are in the hope that a bit of the glitter will rub off.’

‘Yeah. I never thought about that until I got to know Alisha and then Riko. Riko can’t wait to get back to school – to be back with her friends. She wants to go out and explore London but if she does, she has to have a minder or a driver with her. She was telling me how much she hates it.’ Suddenly I felt I’d said too much. Not that I’d dropped any state secrets but I’d said more than usual. ‘Er . . . better go, Bridget.’

‘Nice talking to you, Jess. You take of yourself now,’ said Bridget and she went back to her coffee. ‘And I am sure those girls are lucky to have a friend like you. Will you be doing something nice then, this evening?’

I nodded. ‘Party.’

‘Lucky old you.’

‘Thanks. Um, OK, bye,’ I said.

‘And I’ll look out for that boy,’ she called as I got up and went towards the door.
I like Bridget
, I thought as I left.
She seems like a nice woman
.
Maybe one day I’ll even bring her out a cup of coffee.

As I went past Eddie, I dropped a few coins in the hat he always had out in front of him. Since Christmas Day, I always dropped something in. He never acknowledged the money I left or me, but that was OK. I knew that he would have a story about how he came to be homeless and he was maybe proud. Why should he thank everyone?

‘Come in, totty,’ said Josh as he opened the door at Tom’s house that evening.

I pushed past him. ‘Get a life, saddo.’

‘You know you want me, Hall,’ he said.

‘In your dreams, Nash.’

Josh grinned and shut the door. ‘Your mates are already here in the kitchen,’ he said.

I pushed my way through the wall-to-wall teens crammed in the corridor and headed towards the back. Anyone trying to have a conversation had to shout to make themselves heard over the loud music that pounded out of a room to the right. There were a few faces I recognised but no sign of Tom as I made my way to the kitchen. I was wearing a black dress that Pia’s mum had lent me. It was part of the new sophisticated me. If Tom liked a challenge, I’d give him one. I was going to be cool, grown up and knock the socks off him with my new look and swept up hair à la Blair Waldorf in
Gossip Girl.
He would swoon at my feet. I would step over him and ignore him for most of the party by which time he would be so frustrated he’d be gagging for me. Only then would I snog him, just as the clock chimed midnight. Plan A. Sorted.