Free Party at Silver Spires by Ann Bryant Page A

have to worry, because Suki was carrying on about cooking.
    â€œDoes your father do the cooking at home, Antonia? Or do you have a cook?”
    â€œWe do not ’ave a cook,” Antonia replied. “Sometimes eet ees Papa, sometimes Mamma, sometimes Nonna, or I…”
    Suki must have got bored then, because she interrupted by asking the rest of us if we had cooks.
    I waited till I heard Sasha and Izzy say no, then I shook my head. Emily and Bryony weren’t paying attention. They’d started their own conversation about Emily’s farm in Ireland, and I was wishing I could join in, because it sounded really interesting. But unfortunately they were a bit too far away for that.
    â€œWe’ve mostly got fields for the cows,” Emily was saying. “But Mum’s got a massive vegetable garden and a little herb garden. I help her with both of them.”
    â€œI bet the rest of you have gardeners though, don’t you?” said Suki.
    I looked down.
    â€œWe’ve got a man who helps in the summer,” replied Sasha, “because my parents are always too busy during the week and too tired at the weekends.”
    â€œSame here,” said Izzy.
    â€œWhat about you, Antonia?” Suki persisted, as my heart raced and my hackles started to rise. Why was she so obsessed with everyone’s wealth?
    â€œOur garden in Milan ees too tiny, but there ees someone who – what ees the word? – maintains our holiday home and garden.”
    Knowing I had to quickly do something to stop Suki turning to me next, I poured myself some water and took a gulp, then pretended it had gone down the wrong way and started coughing.
    â€œAre you all right, Nicole?” asked Izzy, looking concerned. And the others all joined in, checking I was okay. All apart from Suki, who waited till I’d finished coughing then, just when I thought I was safe from her prying eyes, asked me her horrible question. “Have you got a gardener?”
    It crossed my mind that I could easily tell a lie, but Suki had made me angry, and that somehow gave me the confidence to speak out, because why should I care what she thought?
    â€œNo, we don’t,” I said firmly. “In fact we don’t have any staff.”
    I’d surprised myself with my bravery, and I liked the strong feeling it had given me. It didn’t last long though, because Suki came straight back with, “Well that’s not true for a start, because I saw you arrive on the first day of term and it was a workman who dropped you off in that old car, wasn’t it? I saw that the back was full of paints and ladders and stuff.”
    My cheeks felt as though they were on fire and I reached for my water again with a shaky hand. “This spag bol is boiling!” I said, gulping the water and frantically thinking what to say. The others thought my dad was an artist, not a decorator. “It was my dad actually…he’s painting the house at the moment, you see…”
    The words sounded weak and pathetic even as I spoke them, and Suki looked at me as though I was talking another language. “Your dad’s painting the house?”
    â€œHey, have you seen what’s for pudding?” said Emily, coming back into our conversation at the perfect moment. “Banoffee pie. My favourite thing. Well, not the ban bit, just the offee .”
    We all laughed.
    No, that’s not quite true. The others laughed, and I pretended to laugh, and even though I knew I should try to get back that strong feeling I’d had for just a second, I couldn’t do it. Inside I was crying.

Chapter Seven

    After school on Friday, I went to the main school library. Apart from our dorm, that has to be my favourite room. It’s enormous and it’s got a certain smell. I think it might be the librarian’s perfume, or the furniture polish that’s used on the dark heavy tables, or it might be just the shelves and