‘Oh, God,’ says Nadine. ‘I forgot, Magda! And these tickets, they’re just for Saturday night. Oh, what am I going to do?’
‘It’s OK,’ says Magda. ‘You go. Who’d want to pass up a chance to go to Seventh Heaven? Hey! Ellie, how about if you and me go too? I’ll get my dad to cough up the cash. Don’t worry, Nadine, we won’t cramp your style. We’ll keep well away from you and Dracula.’
‘Dracula indeed!’ says Nadine, but she laughs.
It’s OK at last. We’re all three friends again. And we’re going to Seventh Heaven!
I wonder if the blond dreamboat Dan ever goes clubbing???
Nadine is telling her parents she’s spending Saturday with Magda. I really am – but of course I’m not telling Dad and Anna we’re planning to go to Seventh Heaven. My dad loves to act laid back but I know he’d never let me go there in a million years because there’s been all this stuff in the local papers for weeks about the fights at four in the morning and girls being rushed to hospital with drug overdoses and all this other seriously heavy stuff. I just tell them Magda’s having this little party and I’ll sleep over at her place and come home some time on Sunday.
‘What are you going to wear to this party?’ Dad says. ‘Not that T-shirty thing again?’
He’s home half an hour early, so Anna’s all set for her evening class. Dad’s trying to act as if the row this morning didn’t happen.
‘Maybe it’s time you had some new clothes, Ellie. Here.’ He hands me twenty quid. Then realizes it’s not enough. He fumbles in his wallet. ‘I haven’t got enough cash. Look, why don’t you go shopping with Anna, use the credit card?’ He looks at Anna. ‘Both of you buy yourself something new, eh?’
Anna looks tense. I’m scared she’s going to start another row, start on about guilt money or something – and then I won’t get my outfit after all. But then she shrugs. ‘OK. Sure. So, Ellie – we’ll go late-night shopping tomorrow.’
‘Can you get home early again and look after Eggs, Dad?’ I say. ‘He’s such a pain to take shopping.’
There. I’ve fixed Dad now. He can’t stay out late and play around. Anna gives me a little nod of acknowledgement.
It turns out that we have fun shopping together. It’s almost as if Anna is Magda or Nadine. We wander round Jigsaw and Warehouse and River Island and Miss Selfridge and Anna tries on all this mad stuff and when I see her slinking round the changing room showing off her navel in this really raunchy gear I just fall about laughing and she gets the giggles too and it’s like we’re two girls together. I dare squeeze into some of the sexier stuff too but it’s a BIG mistake. I am the mistake. I am big. Well. F-A-T.
‘You’re not fat, Ellie. For God’s sake, you’re just perfectly normal size,’ Anna insists, although she’s Ms Stick Insect herself so she’s OK. I’m Ms Big Bumblebee – with the emphasis on the Bum.
‘What am I going to wear?’ I say, after I’ve tried on 101 outfits and discarded them all. ‘I want something hip and cool and now – and yet I look positively indecent in all this stuff.’
‘You’re just a bit curvy for current fashion,’ says Anna. ‘You don’t want these tacky tops or skimpy little skirts.’
‘So what else am I going to wear? A black plastic rubbish bag?’
‘We’ll find you the perfect outfit, Ellie, I promise,’ says Anna.
And she does! There’s this long tight stretchy skirt that I’m scared might be a bit frumpy, but there’s a sexy slit up the back – and then she finds a satin shirt to go over the top and I try it on and it’s like – wow! – I’m not me any more. I don’t look like some stupid podgy little kid. I look much older. Fifteen. Maybe even sixteen.
‘Oh, Anna, it’s great!’ I say. ‘But the two together are going to be ever so pricey.’
‘So what?’ says Anna. ‘Let’s go mad.’
She buys a little short bright skirt for herself that is so different from her usual check-shirt-and-jeans young-mum style. Anna doesn’t look older. She looks much much younger.
‘Let’s buy some tarty shoes too,’ she says.
We strut around in these silly heels, both of us staggering. Then we go for identical black suede shoes with little buckles.
‘You have them, Ellie, it’s OK,’ says Anna.
‘No, it’s not fair. You saw them first. You have them, Anna.’
‘You two are very sweet to each other for sisters,’ says the assistant, laughing at us.
‘We’re not sisters,’ says Anna. ‘Though it feels like we are sometimes.’
‘We’re . . . friends,’ I says, and it’s true. For the moment, anyway.
We both get a pair of black buckled shoes and we dance down the road in them, though we’ve both got blisters by the time we get home.
Anna’s being so sweet I feel bad about telling her lies but I know the moment I mentioned Seventh Heaven she’d morph into strict stepmother mode and say No Way.
So off I go to Magda’s on Saturday and we have a fun time with her family. You should see the birthday presents they gave her! It’s not as if they’re rolling in money either. She gets a VCR for her bedroom and a satin blouse a bit like mine but much more clingy and a huge cuddly bunny and a lacy nightie and a big box of chocs and posh lipstick and nail varnish and lots of CDs and scent and a necklace and a great big basket of smelly stuff.
Nadine sends her a Forever Friends card to show she really wants to make up, with a pair of ultra-sexy black knickers inside. I give Magda a cartoon card I drew myself, with Magda up on a pedestal being worshipped by all these different males, not just Greg and his mates and poor sappy Adam, but people like Mr Lanes the History teacher who is quite dishy in a mature sort of way, and I add all her favourite film stars and rock stars too. It sounds like showing off, but she really loves that card – and my present too. That’s home-made as well. Anna helped me make it last night. Magda’s always liked the Cookie Monster in Sesame Street so I baked her a whole batch of different cookies, chocolate and raisin and cherry, and then when they were cool I put them in a special tin. It’s airtight so the cookies can keep, but as we spend most of Saturday afternoon in Magda’s room mucking around and watching videos we keep stuffing cookies one after the other, so there aren’t many actually left now.
It’s a good job my new skirt has an elasticated waistband because Magda’s mum gets together this incredible birthday cake and crème brûlée and tiramisú and banoffi pie – and all the poached salmon and quiche and chicken and little-sausage-on-stick stuff.
‘We’d better watch what we drink at Seventh Heaven or there’s going to be a serious chucking-up situation!’ Magda whispers.
I’m starting to feel a bit sick actually when we set out. Not because of all the food. Because suddenly Seventh Heaven is the very last place I want to go to. You have to queue up to get in and this awful bouncer guy at the door eyes you up and down and if he thinks you’re too young or too wet or too boring he won’t let you in.
I don’t want to go – but it would still be terrible to be turned away!
‘Come on, Ellie! What are you hanging back for?’ Magda asks.
‘My shoes hurt,’ I say – which is true. And the slit in my skirt isn’t that big, so my knees are a bit hobbled. ‘Magda . . . what if we don’t get in?’
‘We will. You leave it to me,’ says Magda.
‘We don’t know anyone that goes there.’
‘So? We’ll be part of this great new crowd,’ says Magda. ‘And anyway, we know Nadine, don’t we?’
It’s seriously weird when we get there and join the queue. There are some very tall glam girls with very tarty clothes and lots of make-up who make me feel very small and mousy.
‘Clock all those trannies!’ says Magda, giving me a nudge.
I blink and take another look. Magda’s right, they’re boys under all the blusher. And there are ordinary gay guys too, in tight T-shirts and fantastic tight leather trousers, showing off their muscle tone. There are girls too, giggling to
gether, with cropped hair and nose studs.
‘I think it’s a gay night,’ I hiss. ‘Oh, Magda, maybe we’re going to look stupid if we try to get in tonight.’
‘Relax, babe. It’s everybody’s night,’ says Magda, nodding at a crowd of guys further up the queue. ‘Wow, they look pretty tasty. Now they’re not gay, I’m sure of it. And look, there are loads of straight couples too. Can you see Nadine and Dracula?’
I can’t see them at all. I just see lots and lots of cool clubby chic people and I feel smaller and sadder every second. We’re working our way up the queue now and I’m so scared the guy will yell ‘You must be joking, you don’t belong here, you silly little schoolgirl,’ and then I’ll literally shrivel up in my suede shoes and die here and now.
But Magda winks at him saucily and he grins at her and nods us both in, just like that. I can’t believe it!
It’s so great, seeing inside Seventh Heaven. It’s midnight-blue with luminous stars and incredible strobes and the music is so loud and the smoky-cloud stuff pumping all over the place is so strange that I stop being me, Ellie, I’m this new cool clubber and I’m here to have fun. Magda and I have a quick tour round to see if we can spot Nadine but she’s not here yet. Magda takes me by the wrist and we get onto the dance floor. I’m not too bad at dancing but I generally worry in case anyone’s looking at me and noticing my fat bum but now I just get into the rhythm and leap around like part of the crowd. I am the crowd. We’re all the crowd and it’s truly fantastic.
Only we get tired eventually and go to get a drink. Magda orders two vodka and cranberry juices at the bar, but the barman tells her to dream on. So we have the juice without the vodka. It’s more refreshing that way.
Then this older guy comes up and starts hitting on Magda, leaning over and whispering in her ear. My heart starts hammering, because what am I going to do if she gets off with someone? – but then Magda shakes her head and he goes away.
‘What was he saying?’ I ask.
‘Oh, he was pushing E and whizz and all that junk,’ says Magda.
‘Really?’ I say, staring after this real live drug-pusher.
‘It’s OK. I made it plain we’re not into drugs.’
There are lots of other kids who obviously are. As it gets later lots start crashing about, their eyes huge and staring. A girl near us suddenly sits on the floor and starts weeping.
I stare at her, wondering if she’s all right. Suddenly Seventh Heaven doesn’t seem quite such a glittery place after all. I still can’t see Nadine anywhere. Maybe she isn’t going to turn up.
Magda and I dance again, and I have to take my shoes off, but I don’t dare put them down in case they get kicked away so I dangle them by their straps, which is a bit awkward. I’m starting to get ever so tired. I think Magda is too.
Then way off at the other side of the club, right at the back, I think I see this blond head. My dream guy! Well, maybe not, I can’t see properly. Heaps of guys have that amazing fair hair, though I think it really could be him, only now there’s a whole load of other kids in front of him.
‘Let’s go over the other side for a bit,’ I suggest, trying to sound dead casual, though I have to yell in Magda’s ear before she can hear me above the music.
We’re edging our way over when we spot Nadine at last. She’s dancing wildly, her dark hair flying, her eyes very big, very black, very staring.
‘What the hell is she on?’ says Magda.
Liam is with her. It’s horrible the way he’s leering at her.
‘Hey, Nadine!’ Magda yells, charging over to her. ‘You look ever so hot. I think you maybe need a drink. Come to the ladies’ room, eh?’
Liam tells Magda to get lost. Magda takes no notice. ‘Nadine. Come on.’ Magda takes hold of one arm, I take the other, and we pull her away.
I glance back once but I can’t see any blond head now. Maybe I was mistaken anyway.
Nadine is all sweaty and stares at us blearily, practically out of it.
‘What has that pig got you to take, eh?’ Magda says fiercely. ‘You’d better have a drink of water. Several. You’re dehydrated. Only not too much,’ she says, as Nadine bends over the washbasin in the ladies’ and starts slurping straight from the tap. ‘Honestly! You’re like a baby. It’s a good job Ellie and I are here to keep an eye on you.’
Magda finds a paper cup and we give Nadine a couple of drinks. Then she staggers off to the loo.
A whole little gang of girls come into the ladies’.
‘It’s OK, we’re not in the queue, we’re just waiting for our friend,’ Magda tells them.
‘She’s not the dark-haired girl with that Liam, is she?’ says one of the girls.
‘So?’ says Magda.
‘Well, she wants to keep clear of him. He used to hang round this girl at our school, really young, just in Year Eight, or maybe she’d just started Year Nine.’
Magda and I keep stum.
‘He has this thing about really young girls. He says if you go with virgins you don’t have to bother about safe sex because you can’t catch anything off them.’
‘What?’ I say.
‘I don’t believe it!’ says Magda.
‘It’s true. He’s done it with lots of girls, but he gives them the elbow the minute they start to put out. This girl at our school, she got pregnant from this one time, but he just told her to get lost, he didn’t want to know. He said she was a slag anyway, saying if she’d do it with him then she’d do it with anyone.’
Magda and I stare at each other, horrified. Then we look at the cubicle where Nadine is. Surely she must have heard? She stays in there until all the other girls have gone. After a few minutes we hear her crying.
‘Come out, Naddie,’ I whisper.
‘Yes, come on, babe, it’s just us,’ says Magda.
Nadine comes out, tears streaming down her face. She heard all right.
‘We’re going to go home,’ says Magda, putting her arm round her. ‘We’ll sneak out the back, leave him standing there. I’ve got the cab fare. You come back to my place and sleep over with Ellie and me.’
So that’s just what we do. And when I wake up at dawn and hear Nadine sobbing in the spare bed I slip over and get in beside her and cuddle her close.
Dear Dan,
I’m ever so sorry but you really CAN’T come and stay at my home. I did ask, but Anna my stepmother won’t allow it. I don’t think you realized this on holiday but she’s really really strict and right at the moment she’s dead annoyed with me because she found out that I went to this amazing club with a serious reputation so now I’m grounded for the rest of the TERM and she says I can’t have anyone at all to stay, so I’m afraid it really will be Christmas at the cottages before we see each other again. I do hope you understand and don’t feel too mad at me.
L. Ellie X
My tongue is black all over. It’s a wonder it hasn’t cracked at the roots and crumbled into cinders in my mouth.
I feel so mean saying all that stuff about Anna. She’s been really super to me. And she’s never said anything about the night of Magda’s party. I came home from Magda’s as good as gold on Sunday and said we’d just had this super birthday meal that had lasted practically all evening, but when I kicked off my killer shoes Anna saw my tights were all holes because I’d been dancing so much. She’s been an absolute sport and it’s especially unfair for me to say she won’t let anyone come and stay because next weekend she’s letting Magda and Nadine stay over Friday night.
We’re all going to Stacy’s birthday party. It’s going to be great if everyone starts celebrating their birthdays in style – we’ll be raving right through the year! Not that Stacy’s party is going to be a rave. We wondered why on earth she’d asked us to her party because she’s not our particular friend, we hardly know her, but it turns out she’s asked the entire form, and a lot of girls in Year Nine in the other forms too.
‘My mum and dad are hiring the hall at the community centre and there
’s going to be a disco and a finger buffet and we’ve got an extension so it’s going to be eight till late,’ Stacy burbles.
‘Wow!’ says Magda, but Stacy doesn’t twig she’s being sarcastic and just grins gratefully.
‘Yeah, isn’t it fabulous? Well, see you there, you three.’
‘We’re really looking forward to it . . . not,’ says Magda, the minute Stacy’s back is turned.
‘Shut up, she’ll hear,’ I say. I always feel much more worried about damply enthusiastic girls like Stacy who are so terribly uncool. If I didn’t hang around with Magda and Nadine and try really hard to be hip I could so easily be one myself.
But Magda can be caring too. She’s looking at Nadine, who hasn’t said a word. She’s barely spoken since the Seventh Heaven night when she walked out on Liam. She just drifts round after us like this pale little ghost. The purple marks are fading on her neck but it’s going to take her much longer to get him to fade from her mind.
‘Oh, I don’t know, Stacy’s party could be a laugh, I suppose,’ says Magda. ‘We could stick together, us three, and have a bit of a bop. I quite fancy a girls’ night out. OK?’
‘OK!’ I say. ‘Right, Nadine?’
I have to nudge her twice before she nods.
But it turns out it isn’t going to be a girls’ night out at all.
‘You can all bring a boy,’ Stacy announces. ‘My boyfriend Paul is coming. This is going to be a proper party.’
‘I like improper parties,’ says Magda.
‘I can’t come then,’ says Nadine. ‘I haven’t got a boy. Not any more.’
‘Oh, don’t go all droopy again, babes, I can’t bear it,’ says Magda. ‘Of course you’re coming.’
‘Yeah, with me. I haven’t got a boy to bring either, have I?’ I say. ‘Seeing as my Dan is stuck up in Manchester.’
‘I can always ask Greg to bring along two of his mates,’ says Magda.
‘No way! Not again!’ I say very firmly indeed.
It turns out Greg won’t agree to go to Stacy’s party. Magda can’t believe it.