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‘Blime-y,’ Max exhales. ‘How were you even made, Po? Were you put together in a doll factory, wrapped in pink tissue paper and left randomly on our doorstep?’
‘Are you trying to tell me I’m adopted?’ I reply in amazement. ‘Because, if so, your sense of dramatic timing is truly terrible.’
There’s a light cough and I jump. An incredibly hot blond boy with deep brown eyes is hovering behind us.
You see? This is what happens when you take your eye off the ball: The One can sneak up while you’re not even pushing your chest out properly. Quickly, I flick my hair, open my eyes wide and bite the inside of my cheeks so my cheekbones look sharper.
Too hard. Ow.
Max laughs loudly. ‘I don’t think they put in enough bubblewrap, Fluff-pot.’
You know what? In my next life, I’m coming back as the oldest sibling and giving Maxstupid nicknames in front of his soulmates too.
‘May I assist with transport?’ my new The One asks politely with a subtle dip of his head. ‘There are a range of options we could organise: a Bentley, motorbikes, a …’
Wow, he’s so powerful and efficient. I bet he’d know how to call me a rescue helicopter if I fainted subtly in his arms and everything.
Mer snarls. ‘Do you think we swam here?’
‘We have a car waiting,’ Effie says quickly, giving him a devastatingly gorgeous smile. ‘But thank you.’
My One goes red and blinks at my middle sister as if she’s suddenly spotlit – even though she’s wearing no make-up, a shapeless orange hoodie and neon-yellow leggings – and I immediately send him to my reject pile.
He failed the audition.
Next.
‘VALENTINES!’ the crowd shouts as the metal gates swing open again. ‘What happened? How’s Juliet? When’s she coming out? Can you tell us anything? Anything at all?’
There’s a nanosecond for me to give them my most enigmatic movie-star smile before Mercy’s jumper goes over my head again.
‘Is it exhaustion?’ I hear a journalist yell through the fluff. ‘Depression? Insanity? Total mental collapse?’
‘Have divorce papers been issued? What about reports that your dad’s engaged to another actress already?’
‘Will Juliet be at her film premiere next weekend?’
‘Where are those boots from?’
That last question must be aimed at Mer because Max, Effie and I are all wearing trainers covered in Nike ticks. Mercy has stiffened, so – curious – I rummage around inside her jumper until I can peer out of an armhole.
Slowly, eyes blazing, my big sister turns to face the crowd.
‘This,’ Mer says coldly into a sudden silence, ‘is an intensely private matter. While the three of us may live our lives in the spotlight, it is not a spotlight of our choosing. We owe you nothing and you do not own us. Please try to remember that …’ She pauses for a fraction. ‘We are just teenagers, trying to … hold on to our mum.’
There’s a tender crack in her voice and Mer’s chin quivers as her eyes fill with tears. The journalists are completely still, Dictaphones frozen in the air.
I stare at my sister in amazement.
‘Please,’ Mercy continues, her voice hoarse. ‘Let us deal with our heartbreak in peace. Let us be, for a moment, the normal family we are.’
She blinks quickly, then turns, but not before we all see a tear trailing down her left cheek. ‘Gucci,’ she adds quietly. ‘My boots are Gucci, although I don’t see why on earth it matters.’
And she disappears into the limousine.
Stunned, the rest of us climb in after her.
The second the doors lock, I rip the jumper off my head and wrap myself round my sister’s neck.
‘Oh, Mercy,’ I whisper, patting her left ear awkwardly in an outpouring of compassion. ‘Don’t you worry – Mum’s going to be fine.She’ll be home any day now. They’re just horrible rumours. But we’re here for each other. I love you so much and—’
There’s a shout of laughter.
‘You total cow,’ Max chuckles, taking his sunglasses off and rubbing his eyes. ‘You almost had me there for a second, Mermaid. God, you’re good.’
I pull away, feeling slightly sick.
Mercy wipes the single tear off her face with a red nail and flicks it away. ‘Runs in the family,’ she shrugs, smiling tightly. ‘We’re very skilled at pretending to be something we’re not.’
She stares out of the darkened window.
‘Well, what are we waiting for? Drive the hell on.’
(#ue4678b41-85b9-5669-9b27-d1ef7b2df386)
Cancer: June 21–July 22
Mars and Saturn send thunderbolts today, leaving you feeling slightly restless. But a pleasurable surprise is on its way, so harness that energy and put your best foot forward!
The next morning, it’s all over the papers:
HEARTBREAK FOR THE VALENTINES
There’s a large photo of Faith’s face – luminous in its orange hood – much smaller photos of Mercy and Max, and a blurry insert of Mum staring wistfully out of the window.
And – ooh! – there’s my left arm peeking out in the corner!
Elbow looking good, if I do say so myself.
‘Seems like you had quite the day yesterday.’
Our housekeeper, Maggie, dropped off the papers first thing, then made us all a large breakfast. Now she’s drinking a coffee and leaning against the Aga, calmly watching us stuff our faces.
‘Right? Listen to this.’ Max piles egg into his mouth and waves a full-page article in the air. ‘Wait –’
He stands on a chair and flings his arms out.
‘After months of silence,following a brutal dumping by prominent African-American film director husband, Michael Rivers, the full mental breakdown of now single and lonely Juliet Valentine,one of Britain’s most beloved stars of stage and screen,has been confirmed—’
I roll my eyes and Maggie frowns at him. ‘Max …’
‘Wait, Mags, it gets better. Mercy Valentine, Up-and-Coming It Girl and Professional Big Nose,whose eyes filled with eloquent tears yesterday—’
‘It’s not my fault you’re not quoted,’ Mer shrugs, savagely pulling apart a croissant. ‘If you didn’t want to be outshone, you probably shouldn’t have invited the media in the first place.’
‘You invited the media?’ Maggie frowns and puts more eggs on the table. ‘Why on earth would you do that?’
‘They were writing about Mum anyway,’ Max declares defensively. ‘I figured they might as well hear it from us.’
‘From you,you mean,’ Mercy corrects.
‘It’s such nonsense,’ I pipe up through a mouthful of toast, shaking my head humorously. ‘Where do they get this crazy gossip from? And they call themselves professionalists!’
‘No, they don’t, because that’s not a word, Po.’ Max looks back at the article. ‘What else have we got? Natural beauty, Faith Valentine, girlfriend of pop sensation Noah Anthony, said everything without saying anything.’
‘Please stop,’ Effie says, sipping orange juice. ‘They’re toxic.’
‘And yet theystill like you the best,’ Max laughs. ‘Looks like you’re going to need that nose job if you want the main shot, Mermaid.’ He nudges Mercy with his foot and then hops to another chair so her punch doesn’t reach him. ‘Let’s see how online feels about the Valentines today, shall we?’
He picks up his iPad and clears his throat.
‘Grandmother, no comment … diva posho Mum’s finally lost it … Dad’s upgraded … the kids are talentless nonentities …’
‘Max.’
‘A century of privilege … entitled brats, living off their parents’ money …’
‘Max.’
‘Who do these people even think they—’
‘THAT IS ENOUGH,MAX!’ barks Maggie.
Max sits down abruptly. ‘Apologies, Mags. At least Dad told them to – direct quote – kiss my American butt,so you can take some comfort in that.’
‘Of course he did,’ I say cheerfully, licking blackcurrant jam off my fingers. ‘I mean, I’ve never heard such trash in my entire life. Alwaysjumping to ridiculous conclusions! Hahaha – journalists or journo-nots, am I right?’
I look triumphantly at everyone, but they’re busy eating.
‘Anyway,’ Maggie says smoothly, cleaning the top of the Aga, ‘I’m afraid I’m not around this evening. Ben’s back for a holiday so I’m taking the rest of the week off.’
Max, Mercy and I swivel immediately towards Faith.
Ben is Maggie’s son and has been madly in love with Effie since they were both six years old: he used to follow her around the grounds, giving her caterpillars to eat as a sign of his eternal devotion. I thought it was very romantic, but she never ate them.
‘He is?’ Faith flushes and avoids our eyes. ‘How’s he finding school up north? You must miss him so much.’
‘I do.’ Maggie nods and wipes her hands on a tea towel. ‘But he loves living with his father in Edinburgh so I try not to show it. And I know I’m biased, but he’s turning into a bit of a heartbreaker. Every girl in sixth-form chess club seems absolutely besotted.’
Max and Mercy start sniggering.
‘How proud you must be,’ Faith says, flashing them warning eyes.
‘How proud,’ Mercy agrees, snorting. ‘Is he still obsessed with Scrabble too? Do you remember when he used to meaningfully play words like beguile and ardour all the time, Eff?’
I should probably mention here that Ben is short and skinny with crispy mouse-coloured hair in a side parting. The last time I saw him he had a spidery moustache that he stroked every now and then as if for luck.
‘Umm,’ Faith says, fiddling with her spoon. ‘I don’t really remember. It was such a long time ago.’
Mercy and Max are twiddling air-moustaches and pretending to play the bagpipes until Maggie quirks her eyebrows at them. ‘You want to make your own dinner tonight, Downton Abbey?’
That shuts them up: none of us know how to cook.
‘I can’t wait until I’m famous,’ I sigh with starry eyes, gazing at the newspapers. ‘I wonder what nonsense they’ll make up about me. Right now, I could get attacked by zombies and there’d only be a picture of my elbow, slightly nibbled on.’
‘Oh, please.’ Mer’s nose twitches slightly. ‘If zombies ever invaded England, you’d just fall in love with the most rotten one, Poodle.’
‘Oh, Handsome Zombie!’ Max cries, pretending to reach into his chest and throw the invisible contents across the table. ‘You have my heart, now and forever! Do with it as you will!’
Pretend slobbering, Mer catches my heart and eats it.
‘There’s no harm in a bit of romance,’ Maggie says sternly as my siblings start sniggering again. ‘Now, you lot, behave, please. I don’t want the media circling while I’m trying to cook my top-secret shepherd’s pie.’
Then she puts her cardigan back on and leaves us to it.
‘No harm in romance …’ Max erupts as soon as she’s gone. ‘Unless it’s with the flesh-eating undead.’
‘I’m sure the zombie will love you to pieces, baby,’ Faith says, leaning over and kissing my cheek. ‘Like we all do.’
‘Yeah, literally bits and pieces.’
‘You know what?’ I say as my siblings laugh and get up from the breakfast table. ‘If I did fall for a zombie, I can promise you that our great love would ultimately triumph against the odds. It’d be a blockbuster romance that my adoring public would pay millions to see, so there.’
‘Don’t worry, little sis,’ Mer grins, finishing her croissant in one bite. ‘You’ll find a boy with a huge chunk of his brain missing one day, I have no doubt.’
Now they’re draining their drinks and checking their phones. So I jump up and do that too.
‘What are we doing now? Oooh,why don’t we watch a film together? How about The Heart of Us? We haven’t seen that in ages.’
It also happens to be the very film Mum and Dad met on: an epic, sweeping romance set in London in the Second World War. And, yes, I watched it last night, but it doesn’t count if it’s on your own.
‘Sorry, Poodle,’ Max says, shoving toast in his mouth and heading towards the stairs. ‘Three whole lines to learn. Just in case Messenger Two literally breaks a leg.’
I look hopefully at Effie.
‘Not this morning.’ She winces as her phone starts buzzing. ‘Noah’s been touring Europe for weeks, which means he has to tell me about every single meal he’s eaten in exquisite detail.’
So I turn to Mercy, much less optimistically.
