Diamonds Are a Teen's Best Friend Read Online Free Page B

to rush off – important cruise ship business to attend to, you know) and I never told her my whole name (which means she couldn’t call my cabin for another chat, even if she wanted). We talked for ages, too. Sheeven called me her ‘new best friend’!!!!!!!!!! Can you believe it? I can’t. I really can’t. I’m Holly Isles’s ‘new best friend’. I’m starting to wonder if I didn’t hit my head on some metal railing and dream up the whole thing (more likely, I’m sure you’ll agree). Really got to go. Will tell all later, I promise, promise, promise.
    Nessaxxx
    My fingers fly across the keyboard as I type my quickie email. I’ve got to go. It’s almost four and dinner starts at eight, which leaves me with half an hour to attend to my ‘important cruise ship business’, and three-and-a-half hours to get ready (and it might just take that long to get my eyebrows into some kind of shape). The thing is, when I got back to the cabin after my chat with Holly, my dad had surprised me with the news that we were going to be dining at the proper restaurant tonight. As in, not slumming it at the buffet. Tonight, we’d be at the adults’ table! Of course, the first thing I did was check the time. Quarter to four? Was he kidding? And now, five minutes later, he must see the look on my face.
    ‘What’s the matter, pumpkin?’
    This, at least, makes me pause. I look at the floor. Atthe beds. At the tiny writing table. ‘I don’t see any ground-dwelling vegetables here, Father.’
    ‘Yes, yes. I remember. I won’t call you “pumpkin”. But what’s up? You’ve got something to wear. We bought you something special. Remember?’
    I forget all about being Holly Isles’s ‘new best friend’ and bite my lip, shifty-eyed, because I suddenly remember he hasn’t yet seen how I altered the ‘something special’ number that made me look five years old. Uh oh. ‘Of course I remember! It’s just that a girl needs time to get ready …’ (Remember the eyebrows? I wasn’t joking about that. And then there’s the little matter of the bushy eyebrows matching the bushy legs. I really should have prepared better for cruising.) Anyway, no time to think about this. I turn towards the door, blowing a kiss at Dad. ‘Must fly, dahling.’
    ‘Dahling? Fly?’ The poor guy looks totally confused. His natural state, I’ve come to realise.
    I turn back for one second. Just long enough to roll my eyes at him. ‘Do you think I’m just naturally beautiful? No. It takes work. Work and people .’ Oh, how I wish I had people . I’m sure Marilyn had people. And plenty of them.
    He’s still rating a 9.75 on the confusion scale.
    ‘It’s okay, Dad.’ I reach over and pat him on the arm (sadly, I can do this from my position in the doorway). ‘It’ll all be okay. Really it will.’
    ‘Hmmm. So much for “toning it down”. Nessa, I’m not sure what you’re talking about, but “people” sounds expensive. Just don’t a) spend a lot of money or b) fall overboard, and I’ll be a happy man.’
    My hand still on his arm, I pause, wondering whether he really meant to place his requests in that exact order. Still, I think I can manage to toe the party line on this one. ‘Well, I’ll try to cut back. I won’t have the caviar face mask and ass’s milk bath after all.’ I give his arm one last pat, wink and close the door behind me.
    And, for the second time today, ‘Nessa Joanne Mulholland!’ follows me up the corridor.
    I already feel right at home.

    ‘Here’s the thing …’ I look up at the maitre d’ and put on my best doe-eyes. Then, at length, I fill him in on ‘thething’. The thing being the fact that I want to try to weasel my way onto Holly Isles’s table for dinner. Well, me and my dad’s way. I work my magic on the French guy with the little twiddly moustache standing in front of me to the best of my abilities. But my so-called abilities must be quite poor, because after I’m done, there’s a