Free Unlucky Break by Kate Forster Page B

said Jess, pulling out a strapless pink minidress and holding it up to herself.
    Andie stood and took the minidress from her. ‘You’re right about the war and wrong about the dress,’ she said, putting it back on the rack.
    She flicked through rack upon rack of clothing, much of it fluorescent or with strange cut-outs. Finally she pulled out a perfectly tailored grey dress with a scoop neck.
    ‘This,’ she said, turning to Jess.
    ‘No way,’ scoffed Jess. ‘I’ve never worn that. I got it as a sample from Vivienne Westwood.’
    ‘It’s perfect,’ said Andie. ‘Trust me. Have you got any stockings with seams up the back?’
    Jess opened a large drawer and flicked through dozens of packets of hosiery. ‘Here we go!’ she said triumphantly, waving them in the air.
    Andie scanned Jess’s shoes and pulled a pair of low black heels off the shelf. She handed them to Jess. ‘You need to wear light foundation and red matte lipstick. Can you set your hair with curlers, or pull it up into some sort of a bun?’
    ‘You really know what you’re doing. You should be a stylist,’ said Jess admiringly.
    ‘I just channel how I imagine characters in books,’ said Andie. ‘Today I’m going with an Atonement vibe. Got any white gloves?’
    ‘ Atonement … so, like Keira Knightley?’ asked Jess.
    ‘In the film, yes,’ said Andie. ‘It’s also a book by Ian McEwan.’
    ‘Cool beans,’ said Jess as she pulled some gloves from a drawer.
    Andie shook her head. ‘It’s like a fashion museum here,’ she laughed. ‘That should do you. I think I’ll leave you to it. Call me when you’re ready to pick me up?’
    ‘You’re not going to stay and watch me get ready?’ asked Jess.
    ‘As much as I would love to watch the transformation, I’m going to try and write,’ said Andie.
    ‘What are you writing?’ asked Jess as they walked downstairs.
    ‘My book.’ Even as she said it, Andie felt like a fraud.
    ‘You know,’ said her friend as they reached the back door, ‘I’m completely jealous of you.’
    ‘Me?’ Andie rolled her eyes. ‘Why would you be jealous of me?’
    ‘Why not? You’re smart – you can write, you finished school. You have Cece for an aunt.’ Jess paused. ‘And you have your own boobs.’
    Andie gave a rueful smile. ‘It’s easy to look at other people’s boobs and wish they were yours.’
    ‘I’ll call you,’ said Jess, kissing Andie goodbye.
    Andie went back through the hedge to Cece’s house. There was no sign of anyone – not even Marta, who was usually polishing the table at this time of the day. The conditions were perfect for writing.
    Upstairs, she opened her notebook and took out her pen from her bag. She always wrote on paper rather than using a computer. She found the words flowed better that way – or at least, they used to. She clicked the pen three times, her lucky number before she wrote. She put her pen to the page and paused. She sat in thought, doodling a word in the notebook.
    James, it read.
    She slammed the notebook shut. No way was she going to let herself write about some lame high-school crush on a movie star who probably hadn’t given her a thought since he went home with his psycho girlfriend. Not gonna happen, she thought.
    She lay in bed with Gigi and dozed, thinking about James, much to her disgust. Although she supposed it beat thinking about Mum and Cameron for a change.
    The next thing Andie knew, Marta was shaking her awake to tell her Jess was outside in her Porsche. Andie jumped out of bed, ran a brush over her tangled hair, and ran down to meet Jess.
    She noted with pleasure as she approached the car that Jess seemed to have followed her outfit advice to the letter. Her red hair was set into an attractive wave, the dress looked suitably demure and the gloves set everything off perfectly.
    As she got into the car, though, she saw that Jess had accessorised with a pair of massive, sparkly false eyelashes.
    ‘Lose the eyelashes,’ said