Winter Smith (Book 1): London's Burning (6 page)
The interviewers were now more concerned in talking to Nathan and Olivia, so Winter and Missy found themselves stood around a lot. Every now and then the photographers would ask the girls to pretend to be busy setting up, which they did. They were also asked to take friendly photos together, which they did, both giving an Oscar worthy performance that they really liked each other. When they were left alone, Missy began to talk.
“I’ve got my boyfriend coming tonight,” Missy boasted. “He’s a model. Upcoming, you probably haven’t heard of him. He’s just signed a multimillion deal with Calvin Klein to model their suits. Can you believe that?”
Winter didn’t reply. She didn’t want to give Missy the satisfaction.
“He’s so cute, as well. Well, he’d have to be, wouldn’t he? Being a model and all that. He’s so edgy, too! He’s done some pretty crazy things. I think in the next year you’ll be hearing about us a lot.”
Winter shrugged.
“And what about you, Winter?” Missy asked. “Have you got anyone coming? Any friends?”
Missy laughed. She was always making fun of the fact Winter didn’t truly have any friends. The only friends she had were ones forced upon her by her parents, Missy for example, and none of them liked each other. Missy didn’t even have friends, though she would never admit it.
“Actually, someone I’ve been seeing is coming,” Winter told Missy, and she was pleased to see the smile fade from her face.
“You’re seeing someone?” Missy said incredulously. “Are you serious?”
Winter nodded.
“He’s coming here tonight. We haven’t been seeing each other long, but he’s a really nice guy.”
She didn’t really know that. He was still a virtual stranger. But Missy didn’t need to know that.
“Well.” Missy rolled her eyes, regaining her personality. “It won’t last.”
Winter didn’t say anything. Instead, she asked something else.
“Have you heard anything about an attack on London?”
Missy stared at her. “You’re so weird.”
Winter took that as a no.
Chapter Three
It was time for the party to take place. Guests and press began arriving in groups, some of them carrying expensive party gifts, until finally the house was swarming. Security stood guard outside, while the gates at the bottom of the lane kept opening and closing as more guests arrived. Some people were even forced to queue to get inside.
Winter had made sure she put distance between everyone. It was almost ten thirty, and she would be leaving soon to meet Connor at the bottom of the lane. Winter hoped he had the decency to dress smart, because her parents would not agree with someone turning up in casual clothing.
Winter had been told to put on high heels, but now her parents were engrossed in networking, she had swapped those high heels for comfortable, red Converse shoes. The designer of her dress had yet to arrive, and she apprehensively sipped her alcoholic drink as she awaited the press conference to begin. The press were all too busy photographing the numerous celebrities showing up unannounced and even uninvited. Her parents didn’t mind, though. They loved a scene.
TV screens had been pulled into the house and left in every room and left to display her parent’s logo, so it was one huge product placement. If a photograph didn’t have her parents’ logo in it, it would be rare, and therefore worth a lot in Winter’s books.
Already a very famous model had spewed up the drink she had drunk all night over the new floor, while Nathan Smith insisted it was fine. It was made fine by the fact that there had been photographers all around and some very strategically placed fliers, bearing the family logo.
Missy had soon deserted Winter to join her so-called friends, boasting about her model boyfriend who had shown up and melted Winter’s heart. He was dashingly handsome and she did feel a little envious.
Winter climbed the steps, the music from the room just as loud upstairs from the many fitted speakers. She saw Missy at the end of the hallway being photographed with her boyfriend and decided it was best to go back downstairs. She made her way down, poured herself a drink, and tried to work out where she could go and remain undisturbed.
Winter thought the balcony would be a good place. She walked into the main room, the music loud, and was stopped by Olivia, who pulled her over to a small and well-lit podium where a tall, thin man stood. He took in Winter and smiled as she approached.
“This is Geoffrey Shards,” Olivia said. “He designed your dress.”
Olivia left Winter with the designer, who leant towards her. He smelt of expensive aftershave.
“I’ll talk about the dress, you just smile and wave,” Geoffrey said kindly. “I promise you can leave soon.”
Winter just nodded. She fixed a smile upon her face, spotting Missy, her boyfriend and her friends heading out towards the balcony. The press were all gathered in front of her, taking photographs and aiming microphones in their direction. Winter spotted the reporters from Vogue, failing to hide their bitter disappointment at missing out on an exclusive.
Winter struggled to hear Geoffrey describe the dress and why he had designed it for her especially. Something about innocence, body figure and individuality came to Winter but the rest was drowned out by the music. The press took more photos, their flashes blinding, before Geoffrey patted Winter on the shoulder to signal she could go.
She said goodbye to Geoffrey, picked up another drink, saw a camera man take a photo and quickly moved away, wondering what bullshit report would be in the papers the next morning about her.
As Winter walked, she spotted her parents and gave them a wide berth, so she wouldn’t be dragged somewhere else to do something of no interest to her. She didn’t feel remotely drunk and felt like to survive this night she had to be. But she should at least be relatively sober when she met Connor.
She hurried past the dance floor with its pulsating lights, yellow, green, red, blue. Everybody on it was tipsy or drunk, spilling drink onto the new floor. She climbed the steps, moving past people who were either sat down trying to sober up or were passed out. The balcony doors were already open, she walked out onto the black marble floor and into fresh air. Her phone went off and she saw a message from Connor, explaining he would be there in five minutes. She felt herself smiling as she stood at the railings and looked down into the garden where more mellow partygoers were talking.
Winter looked behind her and saw that under the decking, cast in red light, were shadows of people. She didn’t need to imagine what was going on down there. She didn’t even notice Missy and her friends up on top of the decking until they called her.
Winter turned to see Perkins, a posh boy from a private school who lived just up the lane with his famous model mother and his banker father, beckoning for her to come up on the decking. With everybody’s eyes on her, Winter had no choice.
With forced spirit she left the balcony and made her way up the wooden steps to the top of the plant infested decking.
“This is my boyfriend, Conrad!” Missy introduced the model, and Winter tried to keep herself composed.
“Nice to meet you,” Winter said casually.
“Great party, Winter,” Amanda, a blonde girl said. She was the less rich of all of them and always reminded of it. “You wanna do some coke?”
Winter blinked, not sure if she heard properly. Missy was giggling, her eyes wide. Her boyfriend had white traces of powder around his nose.
“Yeah, come on, Winter.” Perkins grinned. “It’ll loosen you up a bit!”
Winter was pushed forwards and a table came into view. Drinks had been moved aside to make room for five lines of white powder, rolled up notes of money next to it.
Conrad picked up one of the notes and handed it to her. “Just sniff.”
Amanda was taking photos off her phone.
“I don’t think so,” Winter said. She dropped the note to the floor.
Missy giggled. “You’re so boring, Winter! Tell her she’s boring.”
“You’re so boring!” Amanda called, before turning away to one of the lines on the table. When she pulled back, her face tipped to the sky, one of the lines was gone. Everyone around them but Winter cheered.
“You want to be careful, Missy,” Winter warned. “There are photographers all around. You don’t want to be photographed doing this. Especially with Conrad in tow.”
“I’ve been photographed doing it a load of times,” Conrad boasted, as if it was something to be proud of. Missy sure thought it was. “I make sure they never post it.”
“But there’s people here with cameras, they can easily post it anywhere,”
“If they did that, I’d kill them.”
Missy gripped Winter’s arm. “Relax! It’s fine!”
Winter tore her eyes away from the table lined with drugs, and could see the gates below and part of the town. It looked busy with swarming people, but she couldn’t make out anything but black shapes.
“Come on, Winter,” Amanda said, grabbing Winter’s arm and pulling her closer. Perkins was now gearing up for the next line. “Let’s loosen up! Let’s have some fun!”
“You can have fun without cocaine, guys,” Winter said, trying to fight against Amanda’s grip.
“You
never
have fun!” Missy laughed. “You’re such a downer. Ever since what happened when you were fourteen, you just went weird. I thought you were fun until then. I mean, get over it, Winter. It happened three years ago!”
Winter tried to ignore Missy’s words. She tried to ignore the people around her laughing and cackling, all drunk and drugged.
The gates down on the lane swung open. Winter took this as her opportunity to go down and see if Connor had arrived.
“Listen, I’ve got to go and meet someone,” Winter said, and she quickly moved away before anyone could grab her. “I’ll be back later.”
As Winter climbed down the wooden steps, she glanced at the lane that was in clear view. Her heart stopped in time with her feet. Her eyes widened, as if they were trying to take in what was in front of her. The people on the balcony, and Missy and her friends on the decking, had all noticed the same thing.
“What the fuck?” Missy gasped.
The lane was full of running figures. Their speed was not human. Their arms flailed around them, their heads tipped back, mouths gaping open. The sounds of hissing and screeching accompanied them. They were cast in dark shadows, their bodies illuminating every time they passed a dull yellow light from one of the lampposts, casting tall silhouettes on the bushes in the lane.
Winter heard gunshots coming from somewhere up the lane. She looked up and saw a man in his sixties stood on his balcony, a sniper rifle clutched in his hand. Someone outside her house, leaving the party early, unaware of what was happening behind the gate, pressed the button to open them. The gates began to slide open, just as a boy vaulted over the fence.
Connor.
Screams from people outside began to drown out the thumping music as they took in the beings. There were too many to count, but enough for more than a handful to pour into Winter’s grounds, and others to leap over into other properties and continue their climb up the lane. The shots from the sniper rifle added to the screams of chaos around them. Before their very eyes, one of the beings grabbed a nearby woman and tore her to pieces.
Winter ran, unable to think clearly because her mind was in overdrive. The conversation from the cameraman and the boom operator earlier had given Winter cause to be suspicious. The massacres in China, the attack in Miami, the survival items going out of stock like never before, it was all there. It had always been there. But people had chosen to ignore them, believing it all to just be hearsay and media hype.
People poured out onto the balcony and Winter barged past them. She drew out her phone with the intention of calling her parents. She had only one thought on her mind. She could hear somebody calling her name. Missy, probably, who was so drunk and drugged she wouldn’t have a chance of surviving tonight.