Pride & Princesses (39 page)

    
We noticed Mark’s uncle hovering over the ‘drinks tray’ in the corner of the room wearing a business suit and tie. He must have arrived home early. Mark looked worried as he introduced us to him.

    
‘Hello, girls,’ Mr Knightly said in a slightly too-friendly way.

    
Mark’s aunt introduced herself with a dismissive, ‘and who are your little friends, Mark?’ as if we couldn’t speak for ourselves. She also looked at our clothes with a distasteful expression on her face as if what we wore was shabby. We left just as she was asking us what our fathers did for a living, what kind of car they drove and if we summered in the Hamptons.

    
Poor Mark. He had wanted to leave immediately after lunch but his relatives arrived early. He looked so embarrassed as we gathered our jackets to leave.

    
‘My parents were never like this,’ he said.

     
Jet interjected, ‘oh, Phoebe...Mark forgot to tell you something...you should know about Joel.’

     
I was in a hurry to leave. Mark’s uncle was creeping me out and Mark seemed hesitant to speak loudly, so I jokingly said, ‘you should put it on paper.’

    
‘Uh, okay,’ Mark replied. He looked surprised that Jet had spoken on his behalf when usually it was the other way around.

     
I knew guys didn’t usually write letters, but I thought this might prove added commitment.
 
Mark looked like he wanted to come with us but was forced to stay when his aunt told him his Latin tutor was due to arrive in ten minutes.

    
Turns out Mark’s uncle had arrived back from Brussels and was ‘pouring himself a drink.’ He actually asked us if we wanted one as we were leaving.

    
Petra excused herself to ‘walk the dogs,’ after giving me a ‘see you soon’ smile. Mouche pinched another sandwich on the way out as Mark’s uncle gave both her and me an extra long glance from head to toe.

  
‘Eww.’ Mouche said.

  
‘I know, Mark’s uncle is super lecherous.’

   
‘He must like younger women.’

   
‘Much younger.’

   
‘Gee, that’s original,’ Mouche said.

   
‘I know, poor Mark. Do you think he even noticed?’

  
‘Definitely. Besides, he never would have invited us home if he realized his uncle was going to be there.’ Mouche said. ‘What a sleeze.’

   
‘Totally.’

  
‘You can’t choose your relatives.’

  
‘Unless they’re your friends,’ Mouche added.
 

   
Surrounded by lush grounds and with the majestic mansion framed by sunset falling, we finally understood why so few people had ever been to visit Mark’s place.

   
The next day a letter was hand delivered to my house.

   
Mark’s chauffeur embarked from the car and rang my doorbell. I sleepily answered in my pyjamas and robe, rubbing my eyes.

  
‘Miss Phoebe Harris?’

  
‘Yes.’

  
‘I have a letter for you, young lady.’

  
Even the chauffeur sounded like he was from another country.

  
I took the cream paper, sealed in a gold envelope with my name on it, and immediately thought of our treasures (letters from so many boys, growing daily), but only a few from Mark thus far.

  
I read the letter with interest as I poured milk into my breakfast cereal. My mother arrived in the kitchen fully dressed in a suit and ready to start her realtor day with a showing in Mark’s Knightly’s gated community. I considered myself lucky to have such a good relationship with my mother and considered Mark and Petra’s situation in a reflective light.

   
‘Good morning sweetie,’ my mom kissed me on the top of my head.

   
‘Hi mom.’

   
I pulled out my cell and texted Mouche.

   
You need to come over right now P.
  

   
Mouche arrived ten minutes before we were due in home room. She was breaking some cotton with her teeth (‘I know, it’s totally not the done thing in your stupid
Mrs Jones Etiquette tome
, but I’ve just finished hemming our dance costumes. There.’)

  
‘Check this out,’ I said. ‘It’s the longest letter he’s ever written!’

  
Waving the letter in front of her I ripped it open and read aloud:

Dear Phoebe

 
There is one subject that I should enlighten you about – the subject of Joel Goodman.

 
Although he is from the very best of families and my father and mother were great friends with his parents, Joel was always economical with the truth, from the time we played together as small boys. When my father died, he left Joel (as his Godson) a sum of money for his college education and Joel managed to hoodwink his own family into letting him have access to this money which he then spent in a seriously disreputable manner. But this is only money, which I have never thought was something worth arguing over.

Mmm...Mouche raised her eyebrow, ‘ a man with a good value system,’

‘Finally!’ I said, wickedly.

‘Read on, I can’t wait to hear the rest. He has this haughty British tone on paper.’

‘Not just on paper.’

‘Keep going!’

What really led to our falling out was an incident that occurred during the summer holidays when he came home from the prep school he’d been sent to by his parents. This was the first time he tried to get close to my sister. He basically made an attempt to seduce her. They were both under age and my Uncle threw Joel out.
 
This has led to my sister being quite unsociable and at one stage she suffered from anorexia (thankfully recovered, but she is still quite fragile).

Mouche interjected, ‘actually his love for his sister is really quite touching!’

I looked at her incredulously.

As for Joel’s parents, when the company they ran was sold, they both received enough money to live on comfortably for the rest of their lives. It is Joel who is lying, not me, and I just wanted you to know this, so that we can be friends.

Mark K.

‘No loving exclamation marks?’ Mouche asked

‘No,’ I said, stating the obvious.

 
‘Maybe we have been way harsh on him. I’m sure he didn’t mean to separate me and Jet.’

‘He’s certainly tried to make up for it since.’

‘Well, I’m beginning to see how complicated relationships can be...’

‘
Mrs Jones
always says good ones don’t need to be.’

‘Well, I think, just this once,
Mrs Jones
is wrong.

Chapter 24

Rocco and Julie

   
It was opening night.

  
‘I just want to apologise for my crazy aunt and uncle,’ Mark said from the shadows as I was about to enter the dressing room to apply my stage make-up.

  
‘That’s okay. The whole experience was...kind of fun.’

   
‘Just as long as they’re not your family, huh...’ Mark said, master of the obvious.

   
He had repeatedly apologised for his ‘unwelcoming family’ even going so far as to tell me that he ‘can’t wait to turn eighteen so I can be out of there.’ It was way harsh for him to have to live with such stuck up bores and you had to hand it to him for trying to overcome his circumstances. His personality had really improved too, or maybe he’d just finally revealed himself once we got to know him better. Perhaps we’d been too quick to pass judgement.

   
The dating game had pretty much been played. We all had our favourite dates and an entire locker filled with ‘gifted’ treasure as well as a subway map of New York and a trophy with a blank metal space ready to be engraved with the name of the winner. The yet-to-be-uploaded blog was designed and edited with out-takes, quotes and images from our many months of intense research. The research was all contained in the second Boy Rating Diary – the one we fully revealed amongst ourselves. The original diary was hidden. Mouche and I hadn’t glanced at it for days but we knew it contained early, unspoken secrets.

   
We were all very proud of our game and busy acting like best friends. Teegan was still mildly in disgrace since all of us suspected her of the riding sabotage. She had apologised profusely, admitting that although she had groomed the horse, given him an extra brush, she had not noticed the pebble under the saddle and would never have let Mouche ride if she had.

   
We kind of believed her.

   
After all, we were besties now.

   
Although, let’s face it, no two friends could ever be as close as Mouche and I.

   
Everything changed on opening night.

   
Gossip and chatter filled the backstage area along with tulle and denim jackets, the staples of the costume department. Nervous actors with parts both big and small gathered in the wings before the curtain came up. My costume was amazing for the last act but quite understated for the first two. I couldn’t wait to get into it as I ran my hands over the pink tulle ball dress designed and made to fit perfectly (thanks to Mouche), and the vintage blue denim jacket and boots that would complement the tragic scene when Julie gives her life to be with Rocco in death.