Free The It Girl by Katy Birchall Page A

much trauma is being embedded into my teenage years and thanks to my parents I’ll no doubt end up in therapy until I’m in my late eighties.
    So thanks for that.
    Love, me xxx
    I did think about adding a “PS Just so you know, Dad is engaged to Helena Montaine. Yeah, that really famous actress. Funny, isn’t it!” in my e-mail, but then I thought I’dlet Dad deal with that one. I’m sure Mom will be happy for him and everything, but putting her only daughter in that position without even warning Mom he is dating a public figure?
    Yeah, Dad can face her wrath.
    I had more pressing matters anyway. Here’s a question I never thought I’d ask myself: What do I wear to go to dinner at a movie star’s house?
    â€œAnna,” my dad was yelling across the landing, “we’re going to be late! Just pick anything. Wear something casual. You want me to come help?”
    I shut my door. Loudly.
    After a lot of deliberating, I finally settled on black jeans and a pretty blouse that Mom had once bought for me in France in a bid to make me look more stylish. I looked at myself in the mirror and sighed. Why couldn’t I look more like Marianne? Seriously, how come she always looks so good? Her hair is so thick and soft.
    As I stared grumpily at my appearance, I could hear Dad getting frustrated outside my door, pacing around the landing and muttering to Dog about female time management.
    â€œLovely,” Dad said hurriedly, hardly looking when I emerged. “Into the car. Now. It’s rude to keep people waiting.”
    I ignored him in the car all the way there just to make sure he knows that I’m not going to make this whole process easy for him. Even if Danny was right and everything might turn out okay and Marianne could be the sister I’ve never had, there are more normal parent ways of introducing such a thing into your life, and I’m not going to let Dad get away with it just yet.
    We turned into a gravel driveway, and a beautiful house loomed before us. I suddenly felt VERY nervous. Helena flung open the door and stood in the frame with her arms open and a huge smile on her face. “Welcome!” she cried as we shut the car doors and made our way over to her. “Anna, I’m so happy you’re here.”
    She was wearing a very floaty orange dress with billowing sleeves so that when she stretched her arms out it looked kind of like she had wings. Like a bat or something. But a nice orange one.
    She pulled me into a tight hug before embracing my dad with a big kiss on the lips. BLEUGH.
    Why do adults think this is acceptable in front of their children?
    Helena ushered us into the marble hall. It was huge and spacious, completely modern and exactly the sort of place you’d expect a movie star to live. Around the walls were framedposters of classic films, none of which featured Helena and several of which were signed by the stars or directors. There were two large potted plants on either side of the staircase that looked like mini palm trees, and the staircase itself had glass steps and white banisters.
    It was the exact house I would envision for an actress like Helena Montaine. I gulped.
    As Helena was fussing around, offering us drinks, Marianne came out from one of the side doors. She was wearing high-waisted jeans with a checkered shirt tucked in so her waist looked tiny and, even though she was in her house, she was still wearing big black heels and all these bracelets.
    Oh God. Who looks like that when they’re slobbing around their house?! Apparently It Girls do.
    This was not a good start to the evening. I could never maintain a look like that around Dog. His hairs go everywhere, and he once ate a bracelet Mom brought me from Tanzania when I left it by accident on the coffee table.
    â€œHello,” she said with a curt nod at both of us.
    â€œHi there, Marianne,” my dad sang, trying too hard again.
    â€œHello,” I