Acting Friends (5 page)

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‘For God’s sake,’ Emmi snapped. ‘I get you an invite to a party where your favourite movie star is literally two metres across the room and all you can do is accuse me of bringing someone I didn’t even know was going to be here.’ She turned and stormed off.

I watched her go, my heart racing. Was Emmi telling the truth? Was I wrong? Doubt filled my mind. Emmi had looked genuinely shocked to see Shaz. Maybe she hadn’t invited her, after all.

I bit my lip, wishing I could take back the things I’d said. ‘I didn’t mean to upset her,’ I mumbled.

Grace sighed. Across the room Frankie Clarke and Shaz walked out of sight.

‘This is a total disaster.’ I turned away from Grace, a tear trickling down my face. I wiped it away as Emmi’s sister Louise appeared.

‘You two all right?’ she asked with a smile.

I nodded, feeling desperately unhappy. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. I had no reason to mistrust Emmi. She’d been really nice to me and I’d thrown it back in her face.

‘We’re fine,’ Grace said nervously.

‘Where’s Emmi?’ Louise asked.

‘Er, she went to find the ladies,’ Grace said quickly.

I bit my lip.

‘Okay.’ Louise brushed back her hair. ‘I just 44

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wanted to tell you guys that there are some awesome funfair-type stalls in the next room.’

‘Fun fair stalls?’ I asked.

‘Yeah, the whole film’s set in a funfair.’ As Louise spoke, another older teenage girl with a tumble of red curls and a mischievous smile bounced over.

‘Hey, Lou, are these your sister’s friends?’

‘Yes.’ Louise introduced us, then turned back to the girl. ‘This is my friend Hayley. You guys must know her sister.’

Grace and I stared blankly at Hayley. Her eyes twinkled. ‘Yeah, sure you do,’ she said. ‘Her name’s Shannon. She started at Langton last year but she was ill so she’s still in year seven, like you.’

My mouth fell open. ‘Shaz?’ I said. Now I looked I could see the similarities – both Shaz and Hayley had the same full lips and dark red curls.

Hayley nodded. ‘Yeah, that’s her. Lou said it would be okay if I brought her, seeing as you guys were already coming.’ She turned to Louise. ‘Didn’t you say anything to Emmi?’

Louise shrugged. ‘Nah, I forgot.’

I gasped. So it was true, Emmi hadn’t known Shaz would be here.

Louise looked at me and Grace. ‘Didn’t Shaz say something at school?’

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Grace shook her head. ‘No, but . . . but we don’t know her that well.’

‘Right.’ Hayley hesitated. ‘Well, be nice to her. She totally hates that she had to stay down a year. And she’s got to start all over at a new school soon.’

‘What d’you mean?’ I asked.

But at that moment a guy in his late teens pitched up and put his arms round both Louise and Hayley.

He didn’t appear to notice me and Grace. He smirked at the older girls. ‘You two look
hot
,’ he said.

Hayley and Louise giggled and sashayed off with him.

I grabbed Grace’s arm. ‘No wonder Emmi was upset,’ I said. ‘Shaz is here because of her sister. It’s got nothing to do with Emmi. She had no idea.’

Grace nodded, her pale face creased with concern.

‘Let’s go and find her.’

Grace and I set off into the second room which, as Louise had said, was set up like a funfair. It was amazing. Strings of fairy lights had been draped along all four walls and hung in sparkling sprays from the sides of the many stalls in the room. My mouth fell open as I gazed around. There was a shooting gallery, a hook-the-duck stand and a strongman platform complete with bell and mallet, plus loads of food stalls offering sweets, candy floss 46

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and hot dogs. A large central area had been given over to a go-karting track. Four or five men were racing against each other, cheered on by a bunch of spectators.

‘Wow,’ I breathed.

‘I know,’ Grace agreed.

The whole effect was incredibly glamorous.

Most of the people in the room were in their twenties – and very dressed up. There was hardly anyone our age. Looking round, I could see no sign of Emmi – and it didn’t look like Frankie Clarke or Shaz were in here either, but I couldn’t be sure. The room was pretty crowded. It was hot too. I was dying to take off my cardigan, but now I was here I felt a bit self-conscious again about that skimpy green top.

Grace and I helped ourselves to two brightly coloured ‘mocktails’ – soft drinks that looked just like grown-up cocktails – then went looking for Emmi. I
had
to find her and sort things out between us.

‘Is that Emmi over there?’ Grace pointed to the far corner. I followed her gaze to where a pair of red velvet curtains had been drawn across the entrance to some sort of hut. The sign above the curtains read:
Let Madame van Persiana tell your fortune . . .

A girl stood beside the hut, half-hidden by the 47

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crowds. She turned and I recognised her. It
was
Emmi.

‘Come on.’ I raced across the room, Grace at my side. I rushed up to Emmi, then stood facing her.

She looked back at me. Her mouth was set in a hard line, but I could see the hurt in her eyes. I shuffled from one foot to the other, feeling too awkward to speak for a second. Then my emotions burst out of me.

‘Oh, Emmi, I feel so bad I upset you,’ I gabbled. ‘I know you didn’t know Shaz would be here. I was just really shocked to see her.’

Emmi stared at me coolly, then raised her eyebrows. ‘You know, you have to start trusting your friends, River. You act like you think everyone’s against you, but really it’s all in your imagination.’

I hung my head. It was true. I’d been feeling anxious ever since I’d arrived at Langton Grammar.

And, so far, only Shaz had actually been mean to me. Everyone else was either nice – or just didn’t pay me much attention.

‘Don’t take this the wrong way . . .’ Emmi pursed her lips. ‘But I think it’s because you’re a bit insecure.’

My mouth fell open. What was she talking about?

I turned to Grace, hoping she was looking as confused as me. But Grace just gave a shy nod.

‘I hate to say it but I think that’s true, River,’ she 48

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said. ‘You worry so much about what everyone thinks and whether you look okay in what you wear . . . I mean, everyone cares about that stuff, but you get so upset about it . . .’

I stared at them both. Anger flared inside me. I wanted to tell them both to leave me alone. But even as I felt annoyed, it struck me that they were right.

More than that, they saw who I really was and still wanted to be mates with me.

I took a deep breath. ‘Okay, I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I’ll trust you from now on.’

Emmi grinned. ‘No worries,’ she said. ‘Hey, you
have
to try Madame van Persiana, she’s crazy.’ She pointed to the fortune teller’s stall behind her. ‘I just saw her and she said I was going to have broken, like, twenty hearts before I was eighteen and meet the love of my life when I was twenty-one. She was totally mad, saying stuff like “the spirits are calling me” . . .’ Emmi made her voice all high and wavery as she spoke, then giggled.

I looked round the room. There was still no sign of Frankie Clarke and most of the other stalls were surrounded by hordes of tall, glamorous twenty-somethings. There was no point hanging around just watching them until Frankie Clarke reappeared.

Especially if he was talking to Shaz. Maybe a visit to a mad fortune teller would be fun.

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‘Okay.’ I looked at Grace. ‘Shall we go in together?’

Grace nodded.

‘I’ll wait for you out here,’ Emmi said.

With a nod, I ducked under the dark red curtain.

The hut inside was hot and dark, lit by strings of fairy lights that glittered on every surface. A deep, musky scent filled the air. It came from the single candle which burned on the table, in front of a large chair draped with a dark cloth. I squinted into the corners of the tiny room. Where was the fortune teller?

The dark cloth in the chair shifted and a hooded figure sat forward.

I jumped.

‘I am Madame van Persiana.’ Her voice was low and gravelly. ‘Please, sit.’

Grace gave a shudder. Despite what Emmi had said, I half-wanted to run out of the hut, but that was silly. It might be a bit spooky in here, but we could still hear the sounds from outside – the chatter and the laughter.

We sat side by side on the bench in front of the table. My heart raced as Madame van Persiana looked up. She was old, though it was hard to tell exactly how old because her face was still mostly covered by her hood. Her dark eyes, heavily ringed with black eyeliner, glistened in the candlelight.

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‘Gaze into the flame, please,’ Madame van Persiana ordered, her voice rising and wavering as she spoke. ‘The spirits are calling. I will tell you what your future holds.’

I could feel Grace trembling but, now she had started speaking, Madame van Persiana just seeemed a bit silly to me. I wriggled in my seat. It was so hot in the hut and the musky perfume of the candle was suffocatingly strong.

‘You first, blonde child.’ Madame van Persiana rolled the word ‘child’ round her mouth.

‘Er, me?’ Grace squeaked.

I nudged her to be quiet. Of course Madame van Persiana meant her. My hair was the colour of dirt.

‘You will be very much loved,’ Madame van Persiana went on, her voice rising and falling in a highly melodramatic fashion. ‘Ah, it will be a long and happy life with two . . . no,
three
children.’

I sat back. Emmi was right. Madame van Persiana was full of rubbish. Fortune tellers always said stuff about long and happy lives then made up how many kids you were going to have. I’d seen people just like this in films.

‘Three children?’ Grace said breathlessly. ‘Will they be boys or girls?’

‘A boy then two girls,’ Madame van Persiana said, her voice dipping and soaring as she spoke.

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I stared at her hands on the table. Her nails were long and perfectly shaped, painted a deep, dark red.

I looked more closely. They were false nails. Fake, just like Madame van Persiana. And the hut wasn’t spooky and mysterious. Like the deep, overwhelming scent of the candle, it was just sickly and cheap.

‘Wow.’ Grace had clearly completely fallen for this nonsense.

I shook my head.

‘So when will I get married?’ Grace asked.

I was bored now and the little hut was still swelteringly hot. I wriggled out of my cardigan, waiting for Madame van Persiana’s reply. But she didn’t speak at first. I looked up to find her watching me. A look of surprise crossed her face as her dark eyes met mine.

‘Ah.’ Madame van Persiana frowned. ‘The spirits are pressing me to move on.’ Her manner changed and her voice grew as steady and emphatic as it had been high and wavering before. She kept my gaze.

‘For you, we must speak alone. The blonde child must please leave.’

Grace gave me an anxious glance.

I nodded at her. ‘It’s fine,’ I said. I wasn’t scared of Madame van Persiana. She was just a silly old fraud.

Grace got up and left. Madame van Persiana was 52

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still staring intensely at me. There was a new seriousness about her. Suddenly the sounds outside faded away. The atmosphere tensed.

‘The spirits have a message for you,’ Madame van Persiana said, her voice soft and low.

I gulped. Why had Madame van Persiana gone all intense?

What on earth was she going to tell me?

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Another long pause, then Madame van Persiana spoke again. ‘Your name is unusual, is it not?’

I gulped. How did she know that?

‘Er, yes,’ I said. ‘A bit, I guess.’

Madame van Persiana straightened up in her chair. Her hood slipped slightly off her face. I caught sight of the grey roots at her temples.

‘There is a boy,’ she said intently. ‘A boy in your future.’

Sweat beaded on my forehead. Madame van

Persiana’s eyes bored through me. She was completely different than before – all focused and
so
serious.

‘This boy is your true love and you are his.’

I held my breath.

‘His name . . . there is an “F” . . . I see a desire to . . . there is acting . . . performance . . .’ She paused, 54

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her voice lowering even further. ‘There are secrets . . .’

I hung onto her gaze, everything else forgotten.

‘Acting’ and an ‘F’ . . . that had to be Frankie, didn’t it? Was she saying
Frankie
was my true love?

Madame van Persiana reached across the table.

She gripped my hand. Her long red nails dug into my skin. I gasped.

‘He is dangerous,’ she said. ‘Your hearts will change as you grow. There will be passion, but not peace. I see such love . . . such power . . . such darkness . . .’ She released my hand and sat back, her breath ragged. ‘Go,’ she said. ‘Go and be at ease.

You have time before he comes . . . much time . . .’

I sat, frozen, for a second. I wanted to ask more questions about the boy and the life we would have together, but I couldn’t formulate a single coherent thought, let alone find my voice to speak it.

‘Go,’ Madame van Persiana said again. She sat back, her head bowed, disappearing inside her cloak and hood once more. I got up and stumbled to the hut entrance. As I pulled aside the curtains, the lights and noise from the party outside flooded back in, almost blinding and deafening me.