Free Perfect Strangers by Tasmina Perry

mega-connected. Not even I ’ve been to this, Soph.’
    Francesca’s expression changed as she picked up the invitation. ‘Oh look, Soph! It’s tonight! ’
    Sophie took the invitation out of her friend’s hand.
    ‘Well, we’ve missed it. It started at seven.’
    ‘The meal was at seven for seven thirty,’ corrected Francesca, snatching the card back. ‘We don’t want to go to that anyway, I’ve got ten pounds to lose before the wedding, remember? But the party will go on all night.’
    She looked at Sophie with puppy-dog eyes, clutching the invitation to her bosom.
    ‘Please, Sophie, can’t we go? It will be amazing. Last year Beyoncé did a set and Daniel Craig was the master of ceremonies for the auction. Who knows how they’ll top that this year. We can’t miss it.’
    Sophie hesitated. She could do with a really fun night out. And seeing Daniel Craig or some other celebrity hottie would be the icing on the cake of a pretty extraordinary day so far. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the excitement of feeling back in her old life, but suddenly she felt uncharacteristically bold.
    ‘All right, let’s do it,’ she said, putting her wine glass down decisively.
    ‘Yay!’ squealed Francesca, clapping her hands together.
    ‘Well we can’t go like this. It’s black tie. But if we go via your place, I could borrow something there.’
    ‘Sod trekking all the way back to my place,’ said her friend. She took a long slurp of wine. ‘The solution is right here.’
    She stood and pulled Sophie up by the hand.
    ‘Oh no, no, no,’ said Sophie, as Francesca led her up to Lana’s enormous dressing room off the master bedroom. ‘We can’t .’
    ‘Why not?’ said Francesca bluntly. ‘Lana’s in France and we’re here with a party to go to and nothing to wear.’ She pulled a faux weepy face and then swept into the room, running her fingers across the racks of silks and chiffons.
    ‘This is heaven,’ she squealed, picking up a lizard-skin Blahnik heel and pushing her foot into it.
    ‘Come on, Fran, don’t,’ said Sophie. ‘This is not my stuff.’
    ‘Chill out,’ said Francesca. ‘It’s not as if I’m planning on selling them on eBay; we’re only borrowing them for a few hours. We’ll get everything dry-cleaned afterwards; Lana will never know.’
    ‘Even so . . .’
    ‘You used to be so much fun,’ said Francesca wearily.
    At school, Francesca had always been the most rebellious of their group of friends, and she had a way of making anyone who didn’t want to go along with her schemes feel stuffy and boring. She had certainly always been able to talk Sophie around; the truth was, Sophie had been painfully introverted and strait-laced when she had first arrived at Marlborough, and Francesca had brought her out of her shell, with the result that she found it almost impossible to say no to her friend.
    ‘Come on, Sophie. You deserve a good night out.’
    Sophie couldn’t disagree with her there. She reached out to touch a rack of evening gowns. The closest thing she had to a party dress in her little wardrobe upstairs was a black jersey wrap – not exactly ‘dress to impress’ by any stretch of the imagination – and her ballet flats were comfy, but it wasn’t the sort of thing that turned movie stars’ heads.
    Francesca pulled out a beautiful midnight-blue gown with sequins sewn in swirling patterns down the length of the delicate material.
    ‘This would be perfect for you, why don’t you just try it on?’ she urged.
    Sophie felt a flutter of anxiety, but then she pictured herself wearing it, sipping a cocktail and laughing at some film star’s joke.
    ‘Well, it couldn’t hurt just to see how it looks,’ she said.
    ‘That’s my girl,’ smiled Francesca.
    Sophie shrugged off her robe and quickly slipped into the dress, looking at her reflection in the full-length mirror. She almost gasped; it was beautiful. Flowing, very flattering and the sequins twinkled like stars when