Princess at Silver Spires (11 page)

Then she suddenly drew a deep slow breath. “I know I'm being silly. These things happen. I'm just going to have to pull myself together and get someone else.”

It suddenly hit me that it was all my fault that Lara was in this terrible position.

“Oh Lara, I'm really sorry. It's totally because of me that you're having to find someone else. I feel awful.”

“Don't worry. I don't blame you for not wanting to model for someone like Elise. She and Petra are the selfish ones, not you.”

An enormous wave of relief swept over me. Lara understood me. “You mean…you don't think I was wrong to quit when I heard Elise saying she'd got herself a princess so she was sure to win?”

“Of course I don't. And to tell the truth I was quite relieved when I heard what you'd said to Elise. It's not that I wanted Elise to be in a tight spot or anything, it was just that I knew how she'd make you suffer if she didn't win the contest, when she thought she'd got a winning card with you being a princess. You see, the thing about Elise is that she has to be the best, and when she isn't the best, she makes sure everyone thinks it's someone else's fault.”

I felt myself shuddering at the thought of my narrow escape, but that wasn't helping poor Lara. Her phone suddenly bleeped and she glanced at the text. “My mum's replied.” She smiled at the screen. “She's so sweet. I just told her what happened and listen to what she says…” Lara started reading.
“Sometimes these things are meant to be. Who knows, your replacement model might turn out to be even better!”

“She sounds like a lovely mum.”

“Yes, she's cool. Anyway…” Lara glanced at herself in the mirror. “I don't look as though I've been crying, do I?”

I shook my head. “Not at all.”

“Right, I'm off to find myself a wonderful replacement. Wish me luck!”

At supper I told Katy and the others what I'd heard the girls in the common room saying, and then all about the conversation I'd just had with Lara. They listened wide-eyed and open-mouthed, only interrupting to tell me that the girls in the common room were silly and jealous.

Then when I'd finished, Mia and Grace spoke at exactly the same time. “Oh, poor Lara!”

“How horrible is that Petra girl?” said Georgie, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

“But Elise shouldn't have gone to Petra in the first place, should she?” said Jess.

“It's because she was one of the models for the winning designer last year,” I said a bit flatly. Then I recalled the look in Elise's eyes when I'd said how beautiful Petra was in the textiles room. I realized now that Elise had been eaten up with jealousy that Petra was modelling for Lara and not for her. Well, she'd got her wish now.

“What's the matter, Katy?” asked Mia.

I quickly looked up and saw that Katy was staring at me in a most peculiar way. It was as though she was holding her breath and I had to give her permission to let it out.

“What?” I asked, completely confused.

“Don't you see?”

“Don't I see what?”

Now she looked as though she was keeping a massive secret and trying to stop herself from spilling it. “
Lovely
Lara, who we both think is
talented
and
kind
and
sweet
and utterly
cool
, with her
amazing
grungy clothes, which are
sooo
much nicer than Elise's, is…” Katy said the last four words very slowly. “…short…of…a…model.”

I nodded and waited for her to go on, but she still seemed to be holding her breath, and when I looked at the others I realized they were all doing exactly the same thing. In the end it was Georgie who couldn't contain herself for another second.

“You could be
Lara's
model!” she squeaked.

“But I don't want to be a model!” I quickly protested. “That's why I dropped out. I only wanted to be involved in the first place because of Just Water…”

But even as I was gabbling away I could feel my mind opening up to this crazy new idea. What Katy had said was right. Lara was totally different from Elise. I hadn't pulled out because I didn't want to be a model, I'd pulled out because I couldn't bear to be
Elise's
model. It would be hard finding the courage to face her, and even harder to cope with everyone staring and making comments. But I had to try. I knew that for sure now.

The others must have noticed a change in my expression.

“Yesss!” cried Georgie, as though I'd already agreed.

I shook my head as something obvious occurred to me. “No, she probably won't want me.”

“Well, why don't you find out?” said Katy quietly. Her eyes were really dancing with happiness. “Go on, go now.”

“The poor girl's hardly eaten a thing!” said Georgie.

So I stuffed down a few mouthfuls, then went off to find Lara.

She was in the textiles room working away on her own, but this time she heard the click of the door and looked up.

“I had a thought…” I began.

She didn't say anything, but her eyes never left my face.

“I mean…I'm probably too late and, anyway, I know I'm too young…and you must tell me if you've already got someone…or if you'd prefer an older model…”

She stood up and came towards me slowly. “Are you saying what I think you're saying?”

“I'm saying that…I…could be your other model…if you want…”

She broke into a massive smile, but then suddenly looked really serious. “You're not offering because you feel guilty, are you?”

“No,” I quickly reassured her. Then I tried to think exactly why I was offering. “Just…because it feels like the right thing to do.”

“You total star!” She gave me a tight hug, then looked at her watch and laughed. “How much can you try on in five minutes?”

I laughed too. “Not a lot. I've got to go to prep!”

“Okay, what are you doing tomorrow at lunchtime?”

“Nothing.”

“Excellent, we'll sort it all out then.” She looked as though she'd just remembered something important. “And have you got a club after school?”

I shook my head.

“Good, because that's when the second rehearsal takes place!”

I gulped and felt myself tense up at the thought of facing everyone. Lara must have seen my worried face. “There's no problem, honestly. Everyone thinks it's totally out of order of Elise to have taken Petra off me, so they'll be pleased I've found myself a replacement.”

Then she patted her pocket, and I guessed her phone was in there. “Good old Mum! Right again. Some things
are
meant to be!”

That was a lovely compliment. I smiled inside and thought about Dad proudly watching me walking down the catwalk. But then the smile dissolved into a new wave of anxiety as a picture of Mum and Dad in their royal gold traditional outfits, amongst all the normally dressed parents, suddenly flashed through my mind. I bit my lip and squeezed my eyes tight closed. At least I wouldn't be wearing a tiara on the catwalk now, but with my parents in the crowd, no one would be able to forget that I'm a princess. I heaved a silent sigh. I so wished my parents understood how I hated all that sort of attention, but I just had to accept that they never would.

Lara met me outside the hall at the end of school the following day so we could go into the rehearsal together. We'd had a fitting at lunchtime, and luckily she'd hardly had to make any adjustments – there was just one top that needed taking in a bit. I was so relieved.

“Right, brace yourself,” she whispered as she pushed open the door. We were very punctual, so not many girls had arrived yet, thank goodness. The two teachers were there, though, and I glanced nervously at Miss Owen. She broke into a smile when she saw me.

“Oh good, you haven't left us after all, Naomi?”

“Elise and I have done a bit of a swap,” explained Lara tactfully.

Miss Owen looked slightly confused at first, but then she nodded and said, “Well that's fine. As long as every designer has two models, that's all that matters.”

“And I'm glad there are no
new
models to train, just a bit of rejigging of the order,” added Miss Pritchard, as the door opened and a whole crowd of girls came in at the same time.

I saw Elise amongst them and quickly looked away.

“Just ignore her,” said Lara, out of the corner of her mouth. “Come on, let's get into our place. Some of the models are practising in the actual outfits because they want to check they can walk okay,” she explained, as we went over to the stage.

“Oh no! I hadn't thought about that! I ought to check I can manage stilettos!”

Lara laughed. “You're forgetting who you're modelling for, Naomi. I don't go in for stilettos! You'll be wearing wedges for the prom dress, but flats for the other two, okay?”

I nodded hard and smiled. “
Very
okay!” I happened to look over at Elise at that moment, and saw that she was staring at me. Then I heard her say to Petra, “I don't know what she's got to grin about. She won't look anything special in the kind of stuff Lara makes.” Petra didn't reply, just looked sulky and a bit bored, as usual.

But immediately quite a few girls spoke at the same time to me, very quietly.

“Take no notice, Naomi.”

“She's only jealous.”

“Don't let her get to you.”

“You'll look great! Lara's a brilliant designer.”

And suddenly I wasn't nervous any more. I couldn't exactly say I was comfortable, but I felt a whole lot better than before, because everyone was being so kind and not one person asked me any awkward questions about why I'd left Elise. They just seemed happy to see me back again. Even the girl who'd made the comment about Miss Pritchard sucking up to me was looking at me as though I was a human being and not a slug. It was more than I ever could have hoped for.

“Who am I supposed to follow, Lara?” I asked, in a last-minute panic.

“Louisa. See, she's that blonde girl over there.”

And then, after a few words from Miss Pritchard, the music was put on and the rehearsal began.

My friends were all waiting for me outside the hall. “So how did it go?” they instantly wanted to know.

“I think it was okay,” I said.

“That means it was fine!” said Katy, smiling. “You look so much happier, Naomi.”

“Yes, I am happy now.”

And I was. Except for one thing. Miss Owen had had a quiet word with me and said that she'd told the TV people that I wouldn't be available to be interviewed about the show when I'd dropped out, and she wasn't sure if they would be able to fit me in now.

“I don't know how strictly events like this are organized for TV,” she'd said, “so we'll just have to play it by ear, but don't be disappointed if you don't get the interview.”

I'd nodded and felt guilty again. But then I'd quickly reminded myself about working in the Easter holidays. And anyway, I was involved with the show again now. I felt close to my precious charity once more. And Just Water was all that mattered.

At twenty-five past seven on the night of the fashion show, I stood beside Lara in the wings of the stage, feeling more nervous than I'd ever felt in my life. Five minutes to go. The hall was absolutely buzzing. And somewhere out there were my parents. I tried not to picture them in their regal finery – it only made me tenser than ever. I don't know who was making more noise, the audience on the other side of the heavy curtains or the designers talking urgently to their models, giving last-minute instructions about making sure we opened a jacket button as we walked, or swished a scarf over our shoulder, or swirled a skirt.

I absolutely loved what I was wearing for this first “Caj with a Dash” category. It was the plain white top and the skirt with all the very thin layers of different textures, and I felt like a bird with fantastic feathers that fanned out as I walked and wrapped themselves around me when I stood still.

My prom dress was so simple. Nearly all the other designers had created dresses which were similar to the one Elise had wanted me to wear, tight-fitting and strapless, in heavy satin. Some, like the one for Tansy, were long and backless with fishtails, and others were very short. Quite a few of them had netting on the top, and all of them glittered and sparkled like mad. Lara had made the simplest knee-length dress in aquamarine for Petra to wear. The fabric was a very fine jersey that clung to me and felt lovely and soft, and Lara said she thought the colour suited me even more than it had suited Petra, which was just the best compliment.

But it was the “Dress to Impress for Less” outfit that I loved the most. Lara wanted me to wear my own jeans, but she'd decorated the pocket at the back with pink and brown Velcro strips all criss-crossed, and she'd also decorated my trainers with the same thing. Then she'd taken a plain stone-coloured T-shirt and covered it with different sorts of buttons and little triangles of coloured fabric. It looked utterly brilliant.