Free Robin Jarvis-Jax 01 Dancing Jax by Robin Jarvis Page A

Breezers off the lads. She watched as Ashleigh selected her best leather jacket, a cheap copy of something Beyonce had worn once, and then started to apply her Saturday-Night-in-Ipswich face so she could pass for seventeen or eighteen.
    “I’m not going in this,” Emma declared decisively. “I’m not gonna be the ugly one next to you and Keeley in your glad rags and prozzy paint that make you look better than you are. I’m going back home and changing.”
    “You look fine!” Ashleigh commented, hardly looking.
    “I don’t want to look ‘fine’!” Emma screeched back at her. “‘Fine’ isn’t going to get me in Hello, or a snog off a millionaire footballer so I can sell my story to the News of the bleedin’ World, is it?”
    “You don’t have time to change. We’ve got to go if we’re gonna be there on time.”
    “Then we’ll have to be late! I am NOT going like this! I haven’t even got my clubbing bra on!”
    Ashleigh pouted her freshly glossed lips in the mirror. “I’m not waiting,” she said flatly. “There’s no way I’m missing a minute of this and Keeley won’t neither. These celebs don’t hang about. They do their appearance then jump back in their limos – it says so on Popbitch.”
    “Fine!” Emma shrieked, flinging the word back at her. “Some mate you are! You go with Keeley and I’ll get a lift of my own. Selfish cow! And by the way, no amount of concealer is going to cover up those zits and you should’ve shaved your tache!”
    She slammed the door and returned to her own house. The boys she had passed earlier jeered as they cycled by. They too had heard the news and were already heading to the Landguard Fort.
    Emma sat in front of her small dressing table and worked quickly. She was about to phone around and beg a lift off someone when a text beeped in. It was an unknown and impossibly short number, but that fact was lost on her.
    From: 7734
    Get out of the house Emma!
    The cops r coming 4 u!!!!!!
    The girl swore, swept up her bag and coat and tore from the bedroom. Tottering down the road in her heels, she hurried as fast as she could and cut down the first turning to get off her street. She wondered if Ashleigh and Keeley had received similar texts. If this was about Sandra Dixon, the police would want to talk to them as well. She reached into her bag to call them. Then, remembering Ashleigh’s attitude, spitefully decided to let the girl find out for herself. It would be hilarious if a visit from the law caused Ashleigh to miss out on the biggest event to hit Felixstowe for years. Serve Keeley right as well.
    Emma was so engrossed in relishing that thought that she didn’t notice the car crawling along the road beside her.
    “Oi! Oi!” called a voice as a hand reached out and flicked up her short skirt.
    Emma swerved aside and yelled abuse as she fell into a hedge.
    Kevin Stipe was leaning out of the passenger window of an old Fiesta, snorting like a delirious pig. Behind him, two more lads she recognised from school were hooting on the back seat.
    “Morons!” she bawled.
    “Where you going on your own?” Kevin asked. “Where’s the rest of your posse?”
    “Same place you’re heading I expect!” she replied.
    “Ha ha!” the boys laughed. “Get in, we’ll give you a lift.”
    “No way, losers!” she refused.
    “Take you forty minutes to walk there from here, Lemon Face,” Kevin said. “You’ll miss the best bits. Everyone’s gonna be there.”
    Emma considered the offer quickly. She knew they were right, but she didn’t want to be seen dead with any of them. They were spotty lads in hoodies and fleeces. But how else was she to get to the end of the peninsula, down the long View Point Road, on time? No chance in these heels. Besides, there was every likelihood the police would be out looking for her once they discovered she was not at home.
    “Go on then,” she said. “But I’m ditching you soon as we get there – understood? So don’t get