‘I get it.’ She kicked off her heels and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. Uh-oh, she was styling for a fight. ‘This is because I shagged your boyfriend. You’re all in on it. It’s some weird revenge fantasy that you’ve cooked up between you.’
‘As if anyone would go to that much effort for you.’ I waved a hand in her general direction. From the floor. ‘Nope. Totes went to Hawaii. Totes took some pictures. They were totes better than yours.’
‘Bertie Bennett wants Tess to go to Milan and take pictures for his book and his exhibition because she’s amazing,’ Amy was shouting again. ‘And Charlie doesn’t love you anyway; he loves Tess. Nobody gives a shit about you because you’re literally the worst person in the entire world. And you’ve got fat thighs.’
‘Oh, that’s it.’ Vanessa jumped up, leapt over my prone form and gave Amy a good, hard shove. The Hobnobs went flying. I was very relieved she’d already put down the wine. ‘Get out of my flat right now, you little psychopath.’
‘You’re the psycho,’ Amy argued as Vanessa grabbed hold of a handful of her hair and started dragging her towards the door. ‘You stole Tess’s photos and passed them off as your own. That’s psycho!’
‘Not to defend her,’ I said, finally rousing myself to duck as they passed me on their way outside, ‘but what I did was a bit mental.’
‘Not helping, Tess,’ Amy squealed.
It was, as the gathering neighbours would attest, quite the scene. A barefoot Vanessa, in black leather leggings and a cropped baby-blue silk shirt, staggered down our front steps, still with a good handful of Amy’s bob. But that wasn’t to say Amy was losing the fight. Vanessa had a lot more hair to get hold of and Amy wasn’t missing any opportunity. As they hit the street, she leapt onto Vanessa’s back, still wearing nothing but a Snoopy T-shirt, her knickers and her neon-pink knee-highs. Finding my feet, I rushed to the top of the steps and slapped a hand over my mouth.
‘I’m going to kill you,’ Vanessa screeched, her arms wheeling around wildly.
‘Good luck,’ Amy yelled back, clamping what looked like a sleeper hold around Vanessa’s neck. Who could have known that all those Saturday afternoons spent watching wrestling with her granddad would come in handy in the end.
The pair of them scrambled up and down the street while people whipped out their camera phones and started filming. I didn’t know what to do. I knew I should stop it somehow, but where to start? Vanessa’s arms and legs shot out, trying to knock Amy off her back, but my best friend was too tiny and too quick. She looked like a rabid spider monkey trying to take on a bitchy giraffe. And this wasn’t her first fight with someone bigger than her.
‘What is going on?’
I was so engrossed in the action, not to mention the group of schoolkids on their lunch who had now surrounded the girls and started a very popular ‘fight, fight, fight’ chant, that I didn’t even see Paige coming up the steps.
‘Is that Vanessa?’ she asked, pointing at the tumble of shrieking limbs that was about to run right into a bus shelter.
‘It is,’ I said, the hand that had been clamped over my mouth moving down to my heart. ‘Paige, I’m so sorry. Please—’
‘Let me speak.’ She held out a thick brown envelope and shook her head. ‘There is a chance that I overreacted in Hawaii.’
‘No,’ I said quickly. ‘I should have told you about Nick. Or I shouldn’t have done what I did. Girl rules ? you were right: I’m just as bad as Vanessa.’
‘You didn’t sleep with my fiancé,’ she said, looking a little bit embarrassed. ‘You fell for the irresistible charms of legendary man whore, Nick Miller. He emailed me, told me everything – that he made all the moves, that it was before we’d even met. So, yeah, I might have overreacted a little bit.’
‘I still should have told you,’ I replied as the fight rolled back past us again. The language on those two. ‘I’m really sorry.’
‘Then we’re both sorry. We can agree we both have terrible taste in men and we can forget all about it. And can you please take this bloody envelope,’ she said, waving it at me again before turning to watch the show. ‘Friend of yours?’
‘That’s Amy,’ I said, opening the packet and pulling out several large glossy prints. ‘They’ve had a disagreement.’
‘She just went straight to the top of my Christmas card list,’ Paige said, leaning against the low wall outside our front door and settling in for the show. ‘Can she take her?’
‘Amy could take down an ox. Vanessa’s been on borrowed time for years. All this,’ I flapped the photographs in their general direction, ‘is just the excuse she needed.’
‘I like her already.’ She looked back at me. ‘When she’s done, we should go and get a drink. I took the afternoon off to bring you those.’
As much as I wanted to watch Amy bash Vanessa over the head with a randomly acquired bottle of 7UP that I suspected had been supplied by the schoolchildren, I couldn’t take my eyes off the photos. They really were beautiful. Al looked happy, Martha looked stunning, the colours, the lighting, the story behind each outfit ? it was all there, ringing through the pictures.
‘They’re really good, Tess.’ Paige interrupted my quiet moment of wonder. ‘And not a pineapple or a ukulele in sight.’
Before I could reply, a blur of blonde hair and black leather came tearing up the stairs.
‘Hi, Vanessa,’ Paige said, offering her a casual wave. With a black eye and a bloody lip, my flatmate paused on the steps, looking confused, angry and, more than anything else, terrified. ‘How’s it going?’
‘You’re all fucking mental,’ she spat, slamming the door to the flat and snapping all of the locks. ‘Do not even try to get in here. I’ll call the police.’
‘OK,’ I called back. ‘Let me know when you’re out and I’ll come and get my stuff.’
‘We’ve left a bottle of wine in there,’ Amy pouted, skipping up the steps entirely unscathed. ‘Hi, I’m Amy.’
‘Paige.’ The considerably less offensive blonde beauty offered her hand to my best friend and shook it heartily as the crowd in the street dispersed, disappointed. ‘Cocktail?’
‘Cocktail,’ Amy agreed, looking down at her outfit. ‘Probably going to have to be somewhere in Shoreditch, though.’
‘I know just the place,’ Paige said, pulling out her phone. ‘I’ve got a car waiting.’
I kept flipping through the photos ? the black Dior, the Givenchy wedding dress, the red Valentino …
‘They’re beautiful,’ Amy said, taking them from my hands one by one. ‘I’m so proud of you.’
‘Thanks,’ I said, eyes trained on the Valentino. I pulled out my own broken phone and scanned my emails. And there it was. Nick Miller. I pressed as hard as I could on the screen to open the message before I lost my nerve. All that was there was a US phone number and two words.
Call me.
I blinked, checked again and smiled. Still there. I hadn’t hallucinated it. He had emailed me.
‘This is our car, ladies,’ Paige said, pointing at a big black people carrier pulling round the corner. ‘Shall we?’
‘Are you sure you don’t want to go back inside and, I don’t know, sort things out?’ Amy asked. ‘What if she goes mental and bins all your stuff?’
‘All my stuff is shit,’ I said with a shrug. ‘We’ll get new stuff.’
‘I didn’t want to say anything,’ she said, hopping from neon foot to neon foot, ‘but yeah, it is. And you’ll need new stuff for Milan.’
‘Or for the agency.’ I gave her a tiny but genuine smile and followed Paige down the steps, really not caring what we must look like. ‘Or whatever I end up doing. I don’t need to know everything right now, do I?’
‘Ha,’ Amy breathed, linking her arm through mine. ‘Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?’
‘I’m Tess Brookes,’ I replied, giving her a squeeze. ‘Pleasure to meet you. Now, how about that drink?’
Acknowledgements
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I’m worried the list of people I must thank is getting dangerously close to becoming longer than the book itself, but here goes. As always, I couldn’t have done this without my brilliant agent and even better friend, Rowan Lawton (especially on that day you told me to shut up, close my laptop and have a bath) and Liane-Louise at Furniss Lawton. Thalia, I don’t know how you managed to stay so calm throughout this entire process, although I imagine it had something to do with not being at all calm when I wasn’t looking. Thank you for being dead good. There are so many people to thank at HC – Martha, Lucy, Elinor, Kate and, of course, Lynne. Thanks for not punching me in the face. Yet. More uber-thanks to everyone who was lovely to me (or even mean about me behind my back; I don’t mind) at HarperCollins Australia, especially the wonderful Kimberley Allsop – dinosaur lovers of the world unite. And thank you to Leo and all my HarperCollins Canada family. It really means a lot to me that you publish my books and I can pop into your office to steal sweets from Paul Covello when I’m in Toronto.
There aren’t enough words to express how much I love everyone on Twitter and Facebook and the Internet in general, although I ought to be able to do it in 140 characters. Cheers to Amy Portess for lending me her name as well as Claire (wherefore art thou, Margs?), Rachel Campbell, Amanda Harper, Edelle McGinn and Kay Parker for suggesting words when I had run out. I couldn’t not give a book hug to Carly Thompsett and the rest of Team Kelk (you know who you are, you crazies) and Kevin Loh – twinsies fo’ lyfe.
Writing really does induce a special state of madness and it’s thanks to these ladies that I didn’t feel quite so alone in it this time – Ilana Fox, Katy Regan, Pippa Wright, Sarra Manning, Mhairi McFarlane, Kiera Cass, Katie Fforde, Meg Sanders and Lucy Robinson, as well as obligatory token boy writer WillHillAuthor. And when I’m not online, these poor bastards have to deal with me in real life – thank you SO MUCH Della Bolat, Terri White, Beth Ziemacki, Ana Mercedes Cardenas, Georgia Adey, Jackie Dunning, Sarah Donovan, Julie Allen, Rebecca Alimena, Erin Stein, Sam Hutchinson, Sarah Benton and Ryan Child. Mahalo (bitches), Emma Ingram. Hawaii wasn’t ready. I have to thank my family for only asking me when I’m going to stop living my silly life and pop out a baby after I’d finished writing, and big thanks to Beyoncé, Detectives Eliot Stabler and Olivia Benson, Sour Patch Kids, Hendricks Gin, CM Punk and the WWE Universe (but not Vince – you’re a bad man), Camera Obscura, Sam Cooke, Etta James and The National. I know Sam and Etta aren’t around any more but it would be rude not to thank them. They were involved.
And thank you to JM for cracking the metaphorical whip. Now stop gloating.
Q&A with Lindsey Kelk
We said you could ask Lindsey anything – read on for her answers to your burning questions …
Edel Salisbury: What was your favourite book when growing up that you would still read now?
I’ve always been an epic reader so there are many! When I moved to NYC I brought four with me, The Secret Garden, Remember Me To Harold Square by Paula Danziger, Frog and Toad Together by Arnold Lobell and Setting Up Home at Willowtree Cottage by Elizabeth MacDonald which is a beautiful story about the trauma of living with terrible roommates that really never made sense until I had them.
Michelle Pickles: In I Heart New York, Angela peed in her fiancé’s expensive wash bag. What I want to know is, where did that great idea come from?
At the time, the scene just came from my overactive imagination but it may or may not have inspired me to pee on my ex’s toothbrush. For which I apologise.
Izzy Rowland: Favourite author besides yourself?
There are so, so many but I’ve always been a big fan of Donna Tartt, Bret Easton Ellis and Michael Cunningham. When I was a teenager, I was obsessed with Paula Danziger and Virginia Andrews. And vampires. Big fan of vampires. Thank god Twilight didn’t publish until I’d learned to control myself.
Helen Antill: Are the books based on your life experiences, or purely from imagination?
Bit of both. The storylines are totally imagined but sometimes some of the scenes are inspired by real life events. Like colouring Rachel’s hair red in The Single Girl’s To-Do List and the pole dancing scene in I Heart Vegas. For shame … Sorry, Mum.
Kimberly Golden Malmgren: If you could steal away to anywhere in the world with anyone in the world to get inspiration for your next book, where would you go and who would you pick as your companion?
Right now, I’d nick off to Hawaii with every single one of my girlfriends and never come back. It’s paradise. If I had to visit somewhere new, it would be Russia or Japan with a certain gentleman friend. Really want to visit both countries.
Amy Keen: What one piece of music do you need in your life when you are busy writing?
I have a writing playlist that goes on for about four hours pre-loaded onto my iPod and iPhone! It’s full of stuff by The National, Camera Obscura, Tegan & Sara, Sleater-Kinney, The Pains of Being Pure at Heart, Tanlines and tons and tons of soul and Motown. I’m a sucker for a bit of Smokey Robinson and Etta James. And Fleetwood Mac. Who doesn’t love Fleetwood Mac?
Kate Bain: Would you rather have a dog that can rap or a cat that sings you to sleep every night?
Oh my god, I’m SO TORN. The dog would be best at parties but I’m selfish and I think the cat might be soothing. Although that might be awkward on occasion: I don’t think it would go down well with the chaps? But still, the cat. We could watch Buffy together and then have a singsong. Amazing.
Kevin Loh: If NYC was under siege what would you stock up on? Only THREE things!
Pizza, Diet Pepsi and Ben & Jerry’s. I could go for months on that. Or at least until I had a heart attack.
Megan In The Sunshine: Do you have any lucky underwear? Or a lucky anything?
I have a Marc Jacobs watch necklace that I wear every single day even though the battery died months ago but I can’t bear to be away from it to have it fixed. And while I don’t have lucky undies, I do have a first date dress … It has an excellent success rate.
Bridget Siegel: What’s your favourite type of character to write?
I love writing all of them. The main characters, Angela, Rachel and Tess, are always the most like me so they can be quite hard – being honest with them is like being honest with myself – whereas writing all the others is like trying on a new personality. It stretches my imagination to be a boy or a bitch. OK, maybe it doesn’t stretch it that much to be a bitch for a few hours …
Ellie Rooke: Would you rather be a giraffe-sized ant or an ant-sized giraffe?
Ant-sized giraffe! I’d be adorable!
Jade Marie Johnston: Do you ever get your own back on people by calling them out in your books in a Taylor Swift-like fashion?
Ha! No … I’ve definitely been inspired by a few people but I never write someone directly into a book. It would be too weird – who wants to spend that much time constantly thinking about someone after a break up? I’d much rather move on.
Kelly Cooke: If you could have a super power, what would it be?
I fly all the time and while I love being on the plane, there’s far too much time wasted in airports when I could be doing something fun! So I would definitely pick being able to fly. That way I could nip back home for a cup of tea with my mum whenever I wanted. Bliss.
About the Author
Lindsey Kelk was a children’s book editor and is now a magazine columnist and author of I Heart New York, I Heart Hollywood, I Heart Paris, I Heart Vegas, I Heart London and The Single Girl’s To-Do List. When she isn’t writing or watching more TV than is healthy, Lindsey likes to wear shoes, shop for shoes and judge the shoes of others. She loves living in New York but misses Sherbet Fountains, London, and drinking Gin & Elderflower cocktails with her friends. Not necessarily in that order.
Praise for Lindsey Kelk
‘Outrageous, witty, exciting and romantic, we simply adored this sparkling read’
Closer
‘Leaves you feeling all warm and fuzzy in
side’
Company
‘Kelk has a hilarious turn of phrase and a sparkling writing style … A frothy and fun read’
Daily Express
‘Perfect for those wishing to escape from the reality of cold winter nights. ****’
Heat
Also by Lindsey Kelk
I Heart New York
I Heart Hollywood
I Heart Paris
I Heart Vegas
I Heart London
The Single Girl’s To-Do List
E-novella
Jenny Lopez Has A Bad Week
Copyright
Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
77–85 Fulham Palace Road
Hammersmith, London W6 8JB
www.harpercollins.co.uk
First published in Great Britain by Harper 2013
Copyright © Lindsey Kelk 2013
Cover illustration © Bree Leman
Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2013
Lindsey Kelk asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
Source ISBN: 9780007497980
Ebook Edition © July 2013 ISBN: 9780007497997
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
Version 1
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