“Rumours?” My heart thumped.
“Stupid girl talk, I’m sure it’s nothing.”
I forced myself to speak. “What do these rumours say?”
Jenny laughed, tossed her head back and shook her curls. “Oh! Well, it’s quite amusing. They say Helen has a crush on you. Quite a major crush, apparently. They were ribbing Harry about it.”
“I see.”
She took a step closer. “Were you aware of it?”
“Of what?”
“Helen’s crush.”
I fixed her in a stare. “I try not to concern myself with rumours, Jenny.”
“No, I mean, not the rumours, but do you think she…”
“Helen is a very talented young woman with a good head on her shoulders. I don’t worry myself with trivialities.”
“Of course.” Her cheeks reddened like I’d slapped her, and then she placed a hand on my arm. “Just be careful, Mark. You know what rumours are like. You know what girls are like, too. I know she helped a great deal, with the set, it’s just good to be careful. Make sure she isn’t getting the wrong idea.”
“I’ll bear that in mind.” I pulled away from her to adjust the stage curtain.
“So, about the dinner…”
“I’m super busy,” I said. “And really, there is no need.”
“It would be my pleasure. No trouble. I could always come to you, if you’re busy. I’m sure I could whip up something tasty.”
I wished the ground would swallow me. “Let’s talk about it after the ball, work something out.”
She clapped her hands together. “Wonderful! I’ll put my thinking cap on.”
I could hardly wait.
***
Helen
I tried to make a video every evening, but I could never think of anything to say. My words all sounded stupid and childish and ridiculous. And I wasn’t painting or drawing. I’d stare at my sketchpad for hours and nothing would come. Only this sick feeling inside, the feeling of my dreams dying and rotting away.
I’d been stupid to accept Harry’s invitation to the winter ball, and had been trying to forget about it until Lizzie opened her big mouth over dinner on Saturday night.
“I can’t wait for the ball,” she said. “We’re going to have so much fun, aren’t we, Hels?”
Mum and Dad nearly choked on their food. And then Mum smiled.
“You’re going to the ball, Helen?”
I managed a pathetic nod.
“Who with?” Dad asked, and his eyes were full of suspicion.
“Harry Sawbridge, he’s nice,” Lizzie answered for me. I could have jabbed her in the arm.
“Sawbridge…” Dad pondered. “Mick Sawbridge’s lad?”
I shrugged, but Lizzie chirped up, seemingly an expert. “Yeah, that’s him. Polly is his mum.”
“Yeah, I know them. Good family,” he said, and sounded appeased. “Hard workers.”
“Not Harry so much,” I said, and then checked myself. “He’s in my art class.”
“Oh lovely!” Mum smiled. “That’s lovely, Helen.”
Katie grinned and flicked a pea at me. “Are you going to be a princess?”
“Not really, Katie.”
“Oh, but you must!” Mum gushed. “You have to have a nice dress, Helen. We’ll take you shopping, get you something nice. That’s only fair, isn’t it, George?”
“What?”
“Helen needs a lovely dress, doesn’t she?”
Dad shrugged. “Yeah, whatever you think.” He gestured in my direction with a fork. “Nothing too low cut.”
“As if,” I said. “When have I ever worn anything low cut?”
He shot me a look. “Just saying don’t start all that now, not now you’ve got a boyfriend in tow. Harry’s a nice lad, you don’t need to impress him with all that.”
“I wasn’t planning on it,” I snapped.
“Just as well.”
Lizzie stifled a giggle and I could have jabbed her all over again.
I retreated from the table as soon as possible and dragged her upstairs with me, shooting her evils over my shoulder all the way.
“What?” she said. “I didn’t think it was a secret!”
“It wasn’t. I just hadn’t said anything. I didn’t want to talk about it.”
“But you need a dress!”
“I hadn’t thought about that yet.”
She rolled her eyes. “Get with the script, Hels. Hot Helen plus hot dress plus hot Harry Sawbridge equals one very jealous art teacher.”
“Except it doesn’t. He hasn’t even looked at me in days.”
“I don’t believe that.” She dug around in her overnight bag. “You need cheering up. You’ve been a right Miserable Minnie this week.”
“Excuse me for feeling like crap. My world is ending, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“Such melodrama.” She handed me a bottle of wine then took out another. “Let’s get trashed, help you forget all about it.”
“Unlikely,” I said, but I was already unscrewing the lid.
“Have you gone on the pill yet?”
I shook my head. “Got a doctor’s appointment on Tuesday, but it feels stupid. What virgin needs the pill, Lizzie? He doesn’t want me, I don’t need the pill.”