Free Friends Forever! by Grace Dent

bottom lip jutting petulantly.
    â€œBut it’s just that . . . ,” Claude continues, “you’ve got tons of amazing clothes. And I . . . well, I just haven’t. So I get a bit precious about lending stuff. Especially when you’re being totally frosty and horrible with me anyway.”
    â€œBut I . . . I’ve not got that much stuff,” Fleur protests rather feebly.
    This is nonsense. Fleur’s bedroom is ram-jammed full of girly fabulousness of the extreme ka-ching variety. She’s never short of a £20 note for a new T-shirt or a designer lip gloss.
    â€œAnd of course, Cressida spotted this,” continues Claude. “And she started harping on about the whole money thing, saying that you’re way too materialistic. And that you don’t respect our monetary differences . . . and I started thinking, yeah! She’s right! Fleur is really spoiled.”
    Fleur looks horrified at Claude. Her huge blue eyes well up with tears. I mean, all of this is true, but Fleur doesn’t need to hear it, does she?
    â€œSuffice to say, I feel like a right spanner now,” Claude sighs. “Why did I listen to Cressida?”
    Fleur shakes her head slowly. I pass her a tissue and she wipes her eyes.
    â€œHmmm,” Fleur sighs. “ You feel like a spanner, Claude? At least you didn’t let Cressida practice acupuncture on you with nonsterilized sewing needles.”
    Claude and I gasp in horror.
    â€œFleur?” I say. “You didn’t? Cressida’s not a trained acupuncturist!”
    â€œThank you, Ronnie,” says Fleur, blushing slightly. “I know that now. ”
    Claude catches my eye and we both can’t help giggling.
    â€œOh, girls, don’t be cruel!” sniffs Fleur, rolling her eyes. “Some of those needles really hurt! Cressida assured me it would prevent the stagnation of my chi and make my butt tiny like hers.”
    Fleur buries her face in her hands again, groaning with shame.
    I know this is meant to be a serious discussion, but I can’t help cracking up laughing. It just feels so good, having my girls here with me. I’d rather we were bickering in the beer garden than in our bedrooms alone.
    â€œLook, girls, can we sort something out here?” says Claude, taking control of the situation. “I really don’t want us to argue anymore.”
    â€œMe neither,” I say emphatically.
    â€œAnd I know things have got really dodgy lately,” Claude says to Fleur. “But Ronnie needs us both right now. The bambinos need to present a unified front. It’s not too late to make this a good summer.”
    â€œWe should make a plan!” I say, remembering what Nan advised me to do on the last night I saw her. “We could still have an adventure!”
    Fleur seems to be thinking about it.
    â€œC’mon, Fleur!” pleads Claude, grabbing Fleur’s hand. “Let’s call a truce.”
    â€œErm . . . I don’t think so,” Fleur says.
    â€œOh, why not?” I sigh. “Claude’s apologized! Do you want her to beg?”
    â€œNo! It’s not that,” Fleur protests. “Of course I want us all to be friends. But it’s just that . . . I’m going away for the summer.”
    â€œWhat?” says Claude. “Where to?”
    â€œDestiny Bay,” Fleur says. “I’ve applied for a summer job in a hotel. It’s looking pretty certain that I start next week.”
    â€œDestiny Bay?” I squeak. “Where MTV holds the Big Beach Booty Quake? The total party resort with all the clubs and beach bars?”
    â€œUh-huh,” groans Fleur.
    â€œDestiny Bay!” repeats Claude. “That surfers’ resort where they broadcast all those surf and bikini competitions from?”
    â€œEr, yeah, that’s the one,” says Fleur apologetically. “There’s this really exclusive hotel about a mile from the main resort called