Free Black Valley by Charlotte Williams Page B

say.
    ‘And for the boat trip, I thought . . .’ Rose reached over and picked up a woollen varsity jacket with the letter ‘R’ appliquéd on one side. ‘With my denim
shorts and black tights. And my Converse. Do you think?’
    Jess nodded. ‘Lovely, darling.’ She paused. ‘I’ll plait your hair before you go, if you like.’
    In the last few days, Rose had taken to wearing her hair in a French plait, which involved a complicated operation of plaiting plaits into other plaits, and necessitated Jess’s help.
    ‘No thanks. I think I’ll wear it loose. But you could blow-dry it if you want.’
    Jess pictured Tegan’s shiny tresses, and realized that Rose was trying to emulate her look.
    ‘Fine.’ Jess changed the subject. ‘Now, what shall we have for supper? Shall we cook something together? And then watch an episode of
Sabrina
, maybe?’
    Sabrina the Teenage Witch
was Rose’s favourite old TV show. Bob had given her a boxed set for Christmas, and they still had quite a few episodes to get through.
    ‘Maybe.’ Rose went over to her wardrobe and began looking through it. ‘I just want to sort this out first. It might take a while.’
    She took out a pair of fur-lined boots with pompoms at the sides, and looked at them, furrowing her brow, evidently deep in thought.
    Watching her, Jess felt a pang of sadness. Rose was growing up, she realized. She’d always liked to look neat, tidy and feminine, but up until now, she hadn’t been particularly
self-conscious about what she wore. Perhaps this had needed to happen, Jess reflected. Rose was rather young for her age, after all. But the change had been so sudden, and there was something a
little sad about the fact that it had been prompted by news of her father’s glamorous new girlfriend.
    Jess went over and stood by the door. ‘I’ll do the supper, then. We’ll eat in about half an hour. See you downstairs.’

7
    When Jessica got to the museum on Saturday evening, she checked in her coat and bag, and then went to look for Mari. There was a crowd of people in the foyer. Drinks were being
served from a temporary table set up near the entrance, so she went over and got herself a glass. She was expecting the usual acrid party fizz, but when she tasted it, she found it was subtle and
delicious. She looked down at her glass, and saw an intricate trail of tiny bubbles rising from the bottom. Proper champagne. She took another sip, scanning the hall for her friend.
    Mari was over by the staircase, standing in front of a statue of Perseus brandishing Medusa’s snake-haired head, and talking to a good-looking man in an impeccably cut suit. She was
wearing a figure-hugging burgundy dress that outlined her substantial curves, with a large rhinestone brooch clasped to her bosom. She looked extremely glamorous, and even though Jess
couldn’t see his face, it was clear that the man she was talking to thought so too. She was laughing a lot, throwing her head back, and he was leaning in close as she did.
    She gave Mari a wave, and Mari waved back. She’d go over and talk to her later, she decided, give her some room for manoeuvre. In the meantime, she’d see if there was anyone else
there she knew.
    As she moved through the crowd, all twittering excitedly like sparrows in a tree, she began to feel slightly insecure. She’d spent a long time deciding what to wear for the party, and had
finally settled on a little black dress and heels. She’d put up her hair in a simple French roll, added some clip-on earrings and a slick of bright red lipstick, and left it at that.
She’d felt elegant yet understated when she left the house, but now, seeing the glitz and sparkle of the other women, she wondered whether her outfit was too plain.
    She wished, for a moment, that she hadn’t come. She was never at her best at parties. Couldn’t do the banter, the small talk. And now she was starting to realize that since the split
with Bob, she’d lost the taste for such