Lady in Waiting Read online

  Aimee flashed me a look. “That dog will get himself discovered one of these days.”

  With a smile I reached for a handful of fresh blueberries. Popping one into my mouth, I bit down to release a flood of tangy sweetness onto my taste buds. “He hasn’t been discovered for two years. Perks of having a wing just for us kids.”

  And wasn’t that the truth. Our house was big enough that we really did have a children’s wing. When we were younger, it served to contain the mess that could be created by three children. Because Augustus and I had been inclined to disappear for most of the day and get into all sorts of mischief, it wasn’t uncommon for us to return hot, sweaty and filthy. Our nannies were always ordered to make sure we were clean and presentable before being set loose on the rest of the house.

  We even had our own kitchen and thus, plenty of room to hide a small dog from Daddy.

  Aimee sighed and swatted my hand when I reached for more blueberries. “Those are for the muffins!”

  I groaned and slumped down into a chair at the table. “Aimee, I’m starving!”

  Her lips twitched in amusement as she scanned me from head to toe. “Yes, you’re positively wasting away before my very eyes. You may not see your seventeenth birthday.” She laughed. “I’ll grab you a plate, the pancakes are warming in the Aga.”

  “Aimee, you are absolutely my favourite person,” I said. My mouth watered as she dished me up a loaded plate full of pancakes. Aimee placed a jug of maple syrup and plates of fresh fruit on the table, before returning again a few moments later with a rack of toast and a pitcher of juice. Now this I would most definitely miss. I was never this well fed at school and I mourned the loss of Aimee’s cooking for months when I left Monaco. But she always ensured I had plenty of her meringues and hot cross buns to take back, and Mummy would make each of us one of her delicious chocolate cakes.

  Every girl at Mapleton Manor had a tuck box filled with goodies and treats to last the terms, or at the very least, until the next exeat when we could refill it. As my years in boarding school had passed, I’d grown more and more savvy when it came to packing a successful tuck box.

  As a First Former, it had been stuffed full of Skittles, Kool-Aid, bars and bars of chocolate and bottles of fizzy pop. Now it was still full of sweets, but also cereal bars which were great for shoving in my sports bag, squash that lasted much longer than fizzy drinks, jars of Nutella and Marmite and packets of crisps.

  This year there was also pasta and a few jars of sauces. Going back to Mapleton Manor as a Sixth Former brought with it a new sense of freedom and liberation. I would be living in Masters, in Thornbury House with a handful of my best friends. No more dormitory life, this year we would be in single room accommodation. I couldn’t wait!

  The week before, Samantha had taken all of us to buy the stock for our tuck boxes. We had filled the cart with Wagon Wheels, Hartleys jelly, chocolate mini rolls, Monster Munch, Boost Bars, Skips, Crunchies, Ritz Mini Crackers, Curly Wurlys, Dip Dabs, Pot Noodles, Jelly Tots, Jaffa Cakes, Hobnobs and chocolate marshmallows. Not to mention—Tang. I could only get it in Monaco and it was my absolute favourite. Tang was orange sherbet that I would dip my fingers in and it dyed the tips orange.

  And that had just been my cart.

  Watching Louisa throw items into the cart made me smile—it was like flashing back to myself five years earlier. Louisa’s box was stuffed to the brim with sugary treats and I honestly had to wonder how any of us had any teeth left. Good genes were nothing to be laughed at, I supposed.

  I was digging in to the mountain of pancakes that Aimee had dished me up when Augustus sloped into the kitchen. He ran a hand over his unruly, unkempt hair as he yawned.

  “Just in time,” Aimee said as she reached for another plate. “Sit down and I’ll fetch your breakfast.”

  Augustus grunted something in response that I didn’t catch as he sat down opposite me at the table. I let him dig into his breakfast for a few minutes before attempting to engage him in conversation. I wasn’t fluent in caveman, which was my brother’s mother tongue first thing in the morning.

  “Do you have any plans for today?” I asked him once his pile of pancakes had diminished. Usually the last day of summer was spent at a lazy, relaxed pace. Mummy hated leaving things to the last minute, so our trunks were already packed. It meant we got to enjoy our final days and we weren’t rushing around like headless chickens.

  I despised headless chickens.

  Aimee had a peculiar sense of humour. I’d been chased around the kitchen table my fair share of times with a little chicken head while Aimee had prepared the bird for dinner.

  Augustus shrugged as he threw half his glass of freshly squeezed orange juice down his throat. “I don’t think so. Why?”

  “Just curious.”

  Augustus chuckled under his breath. “A few years ago all we would have been interested in was getting out on the water with our little dinghy to earn as much money as we could for ice cream.”

  I grinned as I remembered all the hours and hours Augustus and I had spent fishing and catching crabs. Mummy had paid us for our spoils—two francs per fish and one franc per crab. We would stay out as long as we could, hoping to earn enough to keep us stocked in ice cream for the holidays. “I loved fishing! We got so good, too.”

  Aimee chortled. She had her back to us as she made the batter for the blueberry muffins. “Too good, I seem to recall. Don’t either of you remember how long it would take to get the smell of dead crab out of the house when the ones you caught inevitably wandered off?”

  Augustus clutched his belly as he roared with laughter. “I’d forgotten about that! Do you remember the one that got stuck behind your dresser, Freddie?”

  I wrinkled my nose at the memory. Lord, it had taken us weeks to discover the source of the smell. “Remember? I’m sure it still smells a bit iffy behind there.”

  “That’s what we should do today—go fishing. What do you say?”

  There would be no better way to spend our last day in Monaco. Reliving our childhood hobby sounded idyllic. “Sounds perfect. Should we ask Lou?”

  Augustus snorted. ”And have you push her overboard when she annoys you?”

  I gasped and folded my arms across my chest. “I would never do that!” Though, I did have to admit, the idea was tempting. Especially because we all knew she couldn’t help herself when it came to annoying me. The girl had it down to an art form. “Okay, just us then?”

  Augustus nodded. “Shall we leave in about an hour?”

  “Yes. And shall we make it interesting? Loser buys the ice cream?”

  “It would be fitting. You’d better get your wallet out, Freddie, I’m feeling lucky.”

  I grinned over the rim of my glass. “We’ll see about that.”

  Augustus was waiting for me outside just over an hour later. He scowled briefly when I appeared—my brother wasn’t known for his patience either. I wore my favourite green swimsuit and a pair of flip flops and had tied my hair up into a high ponytail.

  “All our old gear should still be at the Beach Club,” Augustus said.

  We headed there at a leisurely pace, with no rush to get anywhere. And sure enough, all our stuff was still in the storage place with piles of fishing supplies stacked against the wall. And most importantly, our little dinghy still looked seaworthy. All our old nets and buckets and crab baits were exactly as I remembered them, and just seeing them brought back a rush of childhood memories.

  We also used to fish whilst on our yacht, the Poseidon. The captain, Felix, had taught us to catch fish by sprinkling breadcrumbs over the side of the boat into the water and scooping them up with our nets. When I wasn’t fishing, I was tanning myself on the top deck as we sailed the seas. Sometimes we would head to St Tropez and stop for some lunch.

  That afternoon was nothing short of blissful. Being out on the water with my brother, laughing as we grew more and more competitive over the number of catches, was one of the best feelings in
the world.

  Monaco was laid out before us, the view from the ocean was one that took my breath away. Our home rose into the sky, dominating the line of houses. People were spread out across the white sandy beach sunning themselves, ice cream shops were bustling with families and children. The faint sounds of music came from boats behind us, carrying holidaymakers and year-long residents who populated this incredible city.

  Further out to sea, sunbathing on a floating raft was Robert Redford. Samantha would be sad to have missed him in his red Speedos again. She was never fortunate enough to catch a glimpse of him wearing them.

  My brother and I had spent half our childhoods fishing these waters, and it all came flooding back to me. We baited our lines and waited patiently for the fish to bite.

  After a while, I resorted to my favourite method—and therefore laziest—of catching fish…dropping crumbs of bread into the water.

  But even with my mad fishing skills, after a few hours, there was a clear winner in the form of Augustus. He put my meagre collection to shame and bragged the whole way to the ice cream shop about what a skilled fisherman he was.

  We swung our legs off the rickety wooden jetty to enjoy our treats. As we sat in near silence eating the ice creams as quickly as we could to avoid them melting and dripping down our wrists, a few men who had been sitting on the deck at the Beach Club dived into the water.

  Augustus and I shared a mischievous look and scoffed down the rest of the ice cream. Amongst our fishing gear was our snorkels and masks and we pulled them on in a hurry. The seabed beneath the jetty was a treasure trove of notes and coins. One of our favourite pastimes was to scour the sandy bottom beneath the jetty, and also under the diving board at the Olympic pool. Members of the beach club would enjoy long, liquid lunches, polishing off a few drinks. More often than not, when they dived into the sea, or the pool, they inevitably forgot their pockets were full of money and lost it all to the bottom.

  It was safe to say Augustus and I had cottoned on to this pretty quickly, and armed with our snorkels and masks, collected all the money we could find. We would dry the notes out on the jetty and a good day’s haul could also be added to our ice cream fund that would last us for most of the summer.

  It was all about the ice cream, after all.

  We carried everything back to the storage at the Beach Club and as soon as everything was tidied away, I hopped on my bicycle and rode the short distance to Cornelia’s house.

  Cornelia was stretched out on a lounger in her garden when I arrived, a collection of teen and fashion magazines littering the grass beside her. She pushed her sunglasses atop her head when she saw me approach, a wide smile pulling at her lips.

  “Should I take that gloating grin to mean last night went well then?” I asked as I took the empty lounger beside her.

  Cornelia sighed—the noise a purely girlish and smitten sound. “Freddie, it was amazing. We talked for hours and just walked along the beach. It was so romantic. We shared a milkshake and when he kissed me he tasted of chocolate.”

  I giggled, pleased my friend was so happy. “Where do you stand with the separation?”

  “We’re going to write. And hopefully see each other again at half term.”

  “I’m happy for you, Cornelia.”

  She sighed again. “Me, too. What have you been up to today then?”

  “I went fishing with Augustus. He out-fished me and I had to buy him an ice cream.” I held up my finger for Cornelia to see. “And one crab didn’t take too kindly to being plucked out of the water. I thought he was never going to let go.”

  Cornelia wrinkled her nose. “Ouch.”

  “What did you do this morning?”

  “Mummy and I took a trip into Nice. I got the most gorgeous new handbag to take back to school.”

  I flopped back against the lounger. “Sounds amazing. I wish I had time for another trip before I have to leave.”

  Cornelia flashed me a grin and reached for a magazine. She tossed me the next one in the pile. “Well, you will disappear off on your boat for hours, Freddie, otherwise you could have come too.”

  Rolling my eyes, I opened the magazine. “Yeah, yeah.” When I wasn’t competing with my brother in fishing, one of my other favourite pastimes was devouring fashion magazines from cover to cover. Living in Monaco, I got to see the best-dressed people in the world. High fashion, hot new trends—it was a little bit like living in a permanent runway show.

  Cornelia and I used to scan the beautiful people in restaurants and pick out our favourite outfits. As children we’d argued over the best clothes for our Barbies—especially shoes as we inevitably lost at least one and barely had a pair between us.

  “Are you all packed?” I asked Cornelia as I idly flicked through the magazine.

  “Almost. I have another few days before I leave.”

  “I can’t believe summer is almost over again,” I said, a hint of sadness creeping into my voice.

  “Remember when we were little and they seemed to last forever? Now they’re over in the blink of an eye,” Cornelia said.

  She was right. As a child on the first day of the summer holidays, it had felt like I was poised on the brink of a never-ending adventure and autumn was decades away. And now as a teen, they hardly seemed long enough. Just as they were beginning, they were over and I was once again saying goodbye to my friends and family.

  “I can’t think of a better way to spend our last afternoon together,” I said, slipping on my sunglasses and settling back more comfortably on the lounger.

  Cornelia smiled and tilted her face into the sun. “Absolutely.”

  The housekeeper came out to us in the garden a short while later, bringing with her a pitcher of lemonade and a plate of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. Cornelia set up her portable CD player and blasted her latest Wet, Wet, Wet disc. We spent the rest of the afternoon listening to music, giggling and flicking through magazines…and chatting about writing romantic letters to Rupert, of course.

  It was nothing short of perfect.

  Before I left, Cornelia dashed inside. She returned a few moments later with her hand hidden behind her back.

  “What are you up to?” I asked her with a smile.

  “I have a surprise for you. Close your eyes and hold out your arm,” she demanded.

  I did as I was told, and resisted the urge to peek.

  Something was slid onto my wrist. “Okay, you can look now,” Cornelia said.

  A rubber wristband now hung from my wrist bearing the emblem of the Beach Club. I grinned and a laugh escaped me. I threw my arms around my friend and hugged her tightly. “Thank you, it’s perfect.”

  “Just another one to add to your collection,” she said, hugging me back.

  “You can never have too many wristbands!”

  I had dallied at Cornelia’s house longer than I’d intended, and it was late in the afternoon before I arrived back home. Samantha shot me a warning look as I strolled down the corridor towards my bedroom.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked her.

  “Your mother will be on the warpath if you’re late for dinner tonight. Hop in the shower right away or else there will be hell to pay,” Samantha said, shooing me away with a flick of her hand. Samantha had a deep, no-nonsense Yorkshire accent. I don’t think any of us had argued with her or talked back. Ever.

  “Yes, yes,” I said, as though it was a great injustice. I darted to the side to avoid her warning cuff aimed for my backside.

  In all fairness, I hadn’t realised just how late it was, and got a shock when I saw the time in my bedroom. Samantha was right, and there would indeed be hell to pay if I was late. Family dinners were always important, but this one was extra so as it was our last of the summer.

  I rushed through my shower, giving myself a nasty gash on the leg with my razor in the process. It was still hot enough that I could leave my hair to dry naturally, letting it take on a natural wave.

  As I finished zipping up
my white shift dress with a floral lace overlay that showed off my deep tan nicely, Louisa poked her head around my bedroom door.

  “Are you almost finished?” she asked, a timid tone in her voice I didn’t hear very often.

  “Almost, why?” I asked, crouching to peer under the bed for my sandals. My room was so big I was forever losing things.

  A few years ago I had found out just how deceptively big my room was. My English friend Caroline had come over for tea and we’d been messing around in my room. We’d decided to try and jump from my dresser onto the bed. I’d gone first because I was the tallest and used that as logic to mean I would be more likely to cross the distance.

  I hadn’t made it, and I’d broken my leg in the process.

  Mummy had been in London on business, and when I’d spoken to her I’d had to reassure her that I had taken my shoes off before climbing on the furniture.

  “You said you would help me with my makeup,” Louisa said, stepping more fully into the room. I saw she was already wearing my green top with the little stitched on daisies—apparently my permission was all she’d needed to come and pilfer it herself, she hadn’t waited for me to actually give it to her. Louisa was as ballsy as they came.

  I finally located the sandals I was looking for and I fastened them onto my feet. “Have a sit down and I’ll help you.”

  Louisa took a seat at my dressing table and waited for me as patiently as she was as capable of. She picked up little pots and lipsticks, holding them up to her face to see if they suited her. Louisa trailed her fingers over the colourful wristbands hanging from the bracelet holder.

  Collecting wristbands was one of my favourite things in the world, and I almost always picked one up when visiting a new place. I had quite a few now, ranging from leather, or rubber ones, like Cornelia had given me that afternoon, to paper ones that I had to carefully peel off my wrists in case they ripped.

  Some days I would wear lots and they would pile half way up my arm.