‘You know, a rave,’ Freddy explained patiently, when Janey didn’t say yes immediately. ‘A big dance party with electronica, lights, dry ice, VJs, lasers, techno, happy hardcore, trance, Old Skool beats, drum ‘n’ bass, house. The Circus Maximus has got to be the best rave venue in the world. You can fit thousands of people into this huge space that used to be used by the ancient Romans for chariot racing. So do you want to come? It’s the biggest trip.’
‘Uh, yeah, I guess,’ said Janey, blinking, as the idea that she, Janey Gordon, would be going to a rave slowly sank in. ‘That sounds kind of fantastic.’
‘It will be wilder than you could ever imagine!’ said Freddy. ‘It’ll blow your little mind. There ’ll be at least five different arenas. It’ll be massive! My girls are meeting us there. Paolo can’t make it tonight though, pity . . .’
Great, thought Janey, who hadn’t fancied partying with that creep.
‘. . . but Brandon’s coming after midnight. He’s got another party to go to beforehand.’
Janey blushed a little at the mention of Brandon’s name, her heartbeat kicking up a notch. Freddy smiled again. ‘Like him, do you? Luz says he’s way too hot for you, but you never know. I think she’s just jealous, because I could’ve sworn I noticed some definite two-way chemistry when he pulled you into that clinch!’ She ran a brush through Janey’s shining, still perfectly obedient hair, and winked.
Janey grinned, but didn’t reply. Obviously, Brandon hadn’t bothered to update his social set on his secret, sort-of date with her at the Café de Paris. Or the fact that he’d given Janey his mobile number and she already had it programmed into her phone. Janey hugged the knowledge to herself, hoping the afternoon they’d spent together had been just as special to him as it had been to her.
‘Luz is probably right,’ Janey agreed, wondering what else Freddy’s snobby friend had said about her behind her back. ‘He’s way, way too hot for me. But, yes, I’d love to go to the rave.’ Getting up and backing out of Freddy’s room, she said, ‘I’ll just go and see what I have to wear.’
Excitement levels rising, Janey headed back to her bedroom and studied the clothes she had, wondering what would work best for a rave. She almost screamed as she brought the beautiful vintage shift Ness had lent her out of the wardrobe and found Freddy standing just behind her, frowning.
‘I didn’t even hear you come in!’ Janey gasped as Freddy examined the shift and shook her head.
‘You can’t wear that to the rave!’ Freddy exclaimed. ‘Not if you want to make Brandon sit up and take notice, and Luz eat her words.’
She stepped around her taller cousin and flicked through every piece of clothing hanging in Janey’s wardrobe as though she were an A-list Hollywood stylist on a last-minute awards night makeover mission.
‘No, no, no, definitely no, and absolutely no.’ Freddy fingered the wrap dress as if it were something that had died and begun to smell. ‘It’s not a tea party, Janey. You’re aiming for “drive him wild”, not polite indifference.’
‘What do you suggest then?’ Janey said a touch desperately, as Freddy reached the end of her borrowed wardrobe with a look of concern.
‘I’ll style you for the rave from my own stuff.’ Freddy spun on her heel and fixed Janey with her dark, level gaze. ‘Everything you’ve brought along to wear is so wrong for tonight. Let me help! I’ve got tonnes of clothes – we’re sure to find something that’ll cause a sensation.’
‘Uh, okay,’ said Janey hesitantly, as Freddy grabbed her by the hem of her very uncool PJs and dragged her back down the hallway.
It took almost all afternoon for Freddy to be satisfied with both their reflections in the full-length mirrors flanking the entry-way to her spacious walk-in wardrobe.
Of course, Freddy looked catwalk-ready in a navy sequined mini-shift and towering gladiator sandals that showed off her long, honey-coloured limbs and ‘international’ hair to perfection.
Janey though, wasn’t so sure about how she looked. She did like the way that Freddy had done her make-up – giving her dramatic, smoky eyes and a strong lip in a glittery bronze-based palette that really brought out her features. Thanks also to Freddy’s earlier efforts, her hair still looked fantastically sleek. And Freddy had finally deemed her a knockout! But Janey still wasn’t completely sold on her overall silhouette. For one thing, the tiny, red, frayed-hem mini she was wearing just made her freckly white legs look even longer and more pale and freckly than they did already. And her leopard print baby-doll top made her usually flat chest look enormous. Her whole upper half seemed so, well, spotty.
‘You don’t think this whole thing makes me look, erm, fat?’ She twisted around and saw that her back view was just as lollipop-like as her front.
‘You? Little Miss Pencil Legs? Fat?’ Freddy shrieked in disbelief. They grinned at each other.
‘I’ve given you some volume,’ said Freddy. ‘You totally needed it! Now you look great, very jet set Euro princess. Everyone is doing animal print at the moment. Now slip these on your feet and we ’re good to go.’ She handed Janey a pair of skyscraping peep-toe Louboutin heels, with their signature hot red soles. They were at least half a size too tight, but Janey squeezed into them anyway.
‘These have to be at least, um, eight inches high!’ she exclaimed. With the heels on, she was well over six feet tall. ‘I’m not going to be able to dance very well in these,’ she said apologetically, reaching to take them off.
Freddy waved at her to keep them on. ‘What’s important is the overall package,’ she said fiercely. ‘Play to your strengths – those mile-high legs for starters. You look like a model now – so totally couture. And we ’re meeting the others at the Goa trance arena, which will mostly involve ambient music that you’ll only have to stand and wave your arms to. No shuffling required. You’ll be fine. Now let’s go. Luca’s meeting us downstairs, like, yesterday.’ Freddy sounded pretty impatient to see Luca herself.
Janey tried not to break into a dippy grin at the thought of Luca waiting for them at the bottom of the building. It was the perfect start to her night out. Janey felt excitement building in the pit of her stomach at the thought of hitting a real dance party.
As the girls grabbed their tiny wristlet clutches – big enough only for some money and a lipstick – Celia hurtled through the front door, looking harassed. She did a slight double take at the sight of them but adopted an expression of extreme mildness and murmured, ‘Off already, darlings? Have fun! And be home by no later than two, won’t you? I know these things can go all night, and that all your friends will be there, Federica, but you know our deal.’
Freddy muttered, ‘Yes, Mum, I know our deal.’
‘Have you got your phones?’ said Celia, looking from one girl to the other.
‘Uh . . .’ Janey began as Freddy suddenly clenched one of her hands tightly to shut her up, and said sarcastically, ‘Yes, Mother. We ’ve got them. So stop worrying and go back to work, like you always do. Even though it’s the weekend.’
An expression of guilt stole briefly across Celia’s face while Janey shot her cousin a bemused look, knowing there hadn’t been room in the wristlets for anything like a phone. The tension between Freddy and her mother could have been cut with a knife.
‘Right then,’ said Celia brightly, ‘Make sure you take a taxi home together and stick close to each other all evening. I’ve got to host tonight’s cocktail function at the embassy because the Ambassador’s flight has been held up in Munich – there’s no way he’ll get back in time. So there’s a lot I have to prep up on if I don’t want to put my foot in it. Have a good time . . .’ Her voice trailed off as Freddy wrenched open the front door and pushed Janey out of the apartment.
‘But you know we don’t have our phones!’ Janey hissed as they entered the cage lift and descended. ‘Are you sure we won’t need them?’
‘She doesn’t need to know that!’ Freddy snorted. ‘Like she cares! And, no, we won’t need them. You’ll be, li
ke, ten seconds from home. Nothing bad’s gonna happen. It’s the last thing you’ll need. Just enjoy the night! One of the others will have a phone anyway.’
Both girls stepped out into the balmy night air, Janey negotiating the villa’s front steps in her teetering heels as though her life depended upon her every move, because it did! They were even less manoeuverable than the red wedge heels. If she took a step too quickly, her ankles wobbled. She was practically mincing, though it was probably worth it, she thought, if they made her look like a model.
Luca was leaning against the car, laughing into his mobile. He snapped it shut as he caught sight of Freddy and opened the door for her, doing a visible double take when he realised who was clomping up behind.
‘Signorina Gordon?’ he exclaimed in surprise, his tone not exactly . . . flattering, Janey realised.
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake call her Janey like the rest of us do – she’s not a duchess or anything – and shut your mouth, Luca,’ Freddy retorted as she pushed Janey into the back seat, following her in. ‘Doesn’t she look sensational? Now drop us at the Piazzale Ugo La Malfa entrance to the Circo Massimo. E rapidamente! We ’re late. Cinderella here was hard to work with. Very hard to work with.’ Freddy gave Janey a sidelong grin to show that she was just joking.
Janey stared uncomfortably at the back of Luca’s head as he settled himself behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition. She noted his grim expression as he turned his head briefly to check his blind spot before easing into traffic, wondering at the weird vibe she sensed going on between Luca and Freddy.
As the car headed towards the Via Nomentana, Freddy shot Luca a challenging look in the rearview mirror and said, ‘So tell us we look good, tesoro mio.’
‘You always appear bella, signorina del Gigli,’ Luca replied after the briefest of pauses, ‘but you should not have permitted signorina Gordon to leave the villa dressed, in this, this fashion. Non sembra appropriato . . .’ He lapsed into Italian so that Janey would not understand what he was saying.
‘What do you mean, it’s not appropriate?’ Freddy replied laughingly in English.
Janey winced. Is that what he thought?
‘She does not appear as . . . herself, you understand.’ Luca spoke to Freddy over Janey’s head as if she were not in the car, wilting inside with each word. ‘Non c’era niente di più . . . dignitoso?’ he said, meeting Freddy’s dark gaze in the mirror.
Freddy snorted. ‘Dignitoso? We’re going to a rave, Luca, not a night at the opera! Get with it, Granddad. She looks hot.’
‘Hey, hey!’ Janey interrupted as both pairs of eyes flicked quickly in her direction and away again. ‘I’m in the car, too, you know, and I think I look, uh, fine.’
Luca’s tone was amused. ‘You look disastroso, like the car accident. Too much here, too little there, all falling apart.’
His words pulled Janey up short for a second, Fellini’s awful car crash avatar flashing up in her mind’s eye, before she shook the image away. When what Luca was saying actually registered, Janey gasped indignantly.
Luca compounded the awfulness by adding a moment later, ‘Like you are, how do you say, becoming dressed in the dark.’ Janey snapped her mouth shut, feeling herself go an unbecoming shade of crimson.
But Freddy rounded on Luca. ‘That’s a horrible thing to say, Luca!’ she squealed. ‘Janey worked hard to achieve this look and I think she looks brilliant, for a change. She’s very in the now tonight. Very au courant. How dare you.’
It had actually all been Freddy, of course – they were her clothes, after all – but Janey was so furious with Luca’s open disapproval that she didn’t bother to correct Freddy’s false assertion. ‘You wouldn’t know the first thing about fashion, so, so, drop dead, you j-judgemental beast!’ Janey stuttered at the back of Luca’s head.
Without missing a beat, Luca shot back, ‘If I were to, as you say, drop dead, signorina, how far would you be able to walk to your rave in your too-high shoes?’
Of course, being the numero uno ladies’ man that he was, he had to have noticed that little detail! Janey fumed, her head about to blow off in sheer temper. It was a weird feeling for her, because she was regarded as the cosmic peacekeeper of Selbourne High. Nothing ever got under her skin. Except Luca. For all the wrong reasons. She could only manage a gargling noise.
‘Chillax, you two,’ Freddy said, looking from Luca to Janey in open fascination. ‘Tonight’s supposed to be about Peace, Love, Unity, and Respect, remember? So stop comparing her with your posse of overdressed, busty, blondely botoxed babes, Luca Sarti, because Janey’s one of a kind.’
Janey just sank down lower in her seat in humiliation. If that was his type, she thought, then it was all utterly hopeless and she might as well give up now.
Nobody spoke another word before the car drew up at the Piazzale Ugo La Malfa, which was teeming with a diverse cross-section of partygoers. Trippy hippy types, hip-hoppers, face-painted teens wearing DayGlo and clutching glowsticks, d‘n’b aficionados, hardstyle trancers, tekheads, plain old weirdos and everything in between. Strobe lights cut the air above the Circus Maximus, the night sky illuminated with eerie giant images and pulsing with a mingled roar of competing beats. The entire scene was set off by the immense scale of the Circus Maximus itself, which was set in a valley between some of the highest hills of Rome and littered with stone ruins that marked where the stadium had once stood.
Too upset with Luca to even say goodbye, Janey flung herself out of the car as Freddy held a brief exchange with Luca in Italian before slamming the door. He drove away without a backward glance.
Janey was so distressed by Luca’s attack on her appearance that she could barely breathe. The crowd pressing in on all sides wasn’t helping either.
Freddy gave her a hard poke in the ribs to get her attention before pulling her by the wrist into the gigantic throng of partygoers making their way towards the main gate.
‘Don’t lose me!’ she screamed as Janey nodded her understanding. This was vast.
Despite her misery, her pulse began to race.
Freddy retrieved two passes clipped to lanyards out of her wristlet clutch before they got to the main entryway, and jammed one over Janey’s head just as they surged through the turnstiles with what felt like a thousand other people.
People were squealing and crying out in the crush and, without warning, Janey couldn’t see Freddy anywhere. She was through, and surrounded by thousands of revellers, all freeforming to their music of choice. The night was a blur of pounding music, and glowsticking, and bodies in motion. It was amazing.
For a moment, Janey just stood and took it all in. Then she pivoted around, searching for any sign of Freddy and the Goa trance arena. It didn’t help that she didn’t know what Goa trance music was supposed to sound like, but at least she had a vague idea where Freddy and her friends were likely to be hanging out. Janey could see six main stages or arenas – it wouldn’t be too hard to narrow down which one was playing the right sound.
She began moving towards the nearest arena in her uncomfortable heels, through a sea of shifting dancers. ‘Why did I let Freddy convince me to wear these ridiculous things?’ she muttered ruefully as she dodged a half-naked guy covered in body paint.
‘Eh, English girl,’ a young Italian guy roared at her a moment later as he slipped a sweaty, heavy arm around her neck, ‘you want be friends?’
‘No thanks!’ Janey yelled back, ducking out from under his arm and backing away. The guy blew her a wobbly, no-hard-feelings kind of kiss before trying the same move on another passing female.
Janey wrinkled her nose and kept moving towards the nearest sound stage, which was surrounded by enormous speakers and throwing up strobe lights and laser beams in technicolour. The music was so loud and so fast that the first dancer she grabbed onto to try and figure out where she was just shook his head and pointed at his ears.
She backed away and prodded someone else in the arm. ‘Goa trance?’ s
he screamed at a young woman who was crazily glowsticking figure eights in the air. The beat pounded through Janey’s body.
‘Gabber!’ the young woman bellowed in Janey’s ear before melting away.
The next partygoer Janey tried to ask shook his head in time to the furious beat and screamed the same thing. Janey figured it had to be the style of music.
As the night wore on, Janey began to feel overwhelmed by the swelling, bellowing crowd and the pulsing, deafening music that came from every direction and seemed to vibrate right through her body. She worked her way around every sound stage and realised that Freddy’s friends must have given her the wrong information about where to meet, because the next arena offered d‘n’b, another happy hardcore, the fourth psy-trance, the fifth chemical break and the last ambient space music, which sounded less like music and more like the soundtrack to a dopey sci-fimovie. The dancers at the last stage were so relaxed and trippy that Janey felt like she’d been grabbed and hugged by almost everyone there. Frustratingly, no one she’d asked seemed to know what Goa trance was.
Exhausted and dispirited, she plunged through a curtained doorway into a designated chill-out room – a large, dimly lit marquee that had been erected roughly midway between the two largest sound stages. Settling onto a low divan next to a sleeping girl and a couple with their arms wrapped around each other, Janey closed her eyes and let the gentle lounge-music mix just wash over her. It felt like she’d been embracing a million different people for hours, half of whom had wanted to take her home! She wondered whether Freddy was all right and thought momentarily, with regret, that she wouldn’t get to dance with Brandon tonight because it was probably time to return to Celia’s. She was never going to find Freddy and her friends now; it seemed really late and if anything, the crowd had grown a whole lot bigger. Without her phone or her watch, Janey couldn’t really be sure what the time was and she didn’t want to risk staying out past two.