“You should wear something lighter. All the girls he dates wear lighter colours. He must prefer it. Try the yellow dress, maybe – or that oatmeal on the hanger.”
Yellow always made me look ill. I glanced at the oatmeal dress. It looked beige. I didn’t know… “Should I try the purple again?”
“TheWalking Deadpurple?” She rolled her eyes.
I’d loved the purple dress; it was off the shoulder and the floaty organza skirt was just see-through enough to make my legs look nice, like Heidi Klum’s in that advert.
“I don’t understand something.” Tricia tapped a finger against her temple. “I’ve been thinking lots but can’t work out why he asked you. I mean, he ignored you for months like he didn’t see you at all, then out of nowhere he invites you to some posh dance at his tennis club. It makes no sense.”
The first time she’d asked this same question, I had answered that he probably liked me, but she had laughed at that. So I stopped answering.
“I mean, it makes no sense. You weren’t dressed up nice or anything, and you have messy nails.”
I held up my hands to show her the manicure I’d got that morning. They’d massaged all kinds of moisturisers into my skin after cutting and shaping my nails and trimming all the cuticles; my fingers looked fit for Buckingham Palace. My nails were painted a glittery midnight blue with a rainbow lustre whenthe light hit them. It was like a magical transformation: no one would believe hands like these ever went near a garden.
“He’s already on girlfriend number five. Every girl in the Verbiers is queuing up for her turn,” she went on.
“Maybe he’s looking for someone different.”
“Well, duh!” She looked even more sullen. “He’s never going to find someone special in the coven of witches. I bet he’s dating someone from the tennis club. You said he was on the phone with someone.” Tricia sounded excited for the first time today. “I bet it was his girlfriend and he’s trying to make her jealous. Didn’t you say he was arguing?”
“I don’t know. He just said something about being too late to cancel.” I made my way back behind the curtain to change out of the Bride of Frankenstein dress.
“That’s it,” Tricia answered. “It’s obvious she cancelled on him and he’s trying to teach her a lesson by going with someone else. She’ll be jealous and they’ll make up. He’s evil to use you like this.”
No, she was wrong. He wasn’t evil at all. And who says a girl like me couldn’t get a date with Osian James? We thought he was shallow, but he had just proved he was really nice and kind and… he listened to me, really listened. And understood me.
He was the one!
“I have to buy a dress. I can’t go to the dance in nothing, and it’s tomorrow,” I argued.
“What about your hair?”
“Going to Toni and Guy tomorrow,” I assured her.She can’t find fault with them, she goes there.
It didn’t make her happy. She was still sulking when we got home with the purple dress in a zip bag. To be really honest, I wished she would just go home. I wanted to try on the dress again and show it to my mum to double check it didn’t make me look like a zombie. But Tricia came into the house with me.
“Is that you, Angelina?” my sister called from upstairs.
Everyone called me Evie – well, except my grandparents, who used the full Evangeline and made me sound like someone in a Regency novel. But my sister liked to be different.
“Matie? I didn’t know you were coming.” I’d thought she was spending Christmas in France with her boyfriend’s family. “Are you in your room? I’ll just be a sec,” I said quickly, hoping Tricia would take the hint and leave.
“No one calls me Matie anymore.” My sister jumped down the last few steps.
Ever since Matie went to live in Paris she’d become Matilde. Yeah, she’s like that. Super pretender.
“That boy came looking for you,” she said. “He’s a bit drop-dead, isn’t he?”
“What boy?” I asked with a quick side eye towards Tricia.
“He waited for a while but we didn’t know when you’d be back and you had your phone switched off. He left you this.” Matie pointed to the sideboard.
There was a small pot, wrapped in cellophane around the stem of a camellia. It had a single bud, just starting to open, but I would recognise it anywhere. A Snow Flurry.
“OMG how did he find it?” Excited words gushed out of me as my heart sped like a beatbox in my chest. “He must have searched loads of nurseries.”
“He left you a card.” Matie handed me a white envelope.
