Game Girls Read online

  Alix peers in the mirror, pouts, and begins brushing her hair. It is silky sleek like spun gold. Long and straight. Shampoo advert hair. Her reflection smiles out at Courtney. 'It's a dark, deep secret – I'm not supposed to tell anyone.'

  The needling becomes a scratch now. Courtney raises her eyebrows. Maybe Fern nicked it. But as soon as she thinks this, she knows it isn't true. Fern is the sort of person who would have the drawer snap shut on her if she even as much as brushed her fingers over a till.

  She might not really know Fern – might never have wanted to – but she knows about her. They went to the same schools together, right through from infant days.

  'I've got it. It was a tip. One of the guests at River's View. Good service or something.'

  'Sort of. You're getting warm.' Alix laughs. 'I've got the vodka ready for us – Vladimir – on the table by the bed there. D'you want some?' She swings away from the mirror and reaches for it, twisting off the lid.

  She swigs hard. Four noisy gulps. Then she hands the bottle across to Courtney. 'Now you.'

  Courtney tries not to think about germs and saliva. Closing her eyes she swallows hard, the clear liquid fire in her throat. Alcohol is a kind of disinfectant. It'll be all right.

  Opening her eyes again, she sees Alix is back by the mirror, her hands on her hips and standing sideways on. 'This dress doesn't make my stomach look bulgy though, does it?'

  Courtney can't believe Alix doesn't know how thin she is. Thin slim. Not all knots and bones and bits-jutting-everywhere thin. The question is for show. And for praise. 'If someone stuck you up against the wall you might get mistaken for an ironing board.'

  Alix laughs. 'Sounds interesting. Being stuck against a wall by someone.'

  Courtney laughs back but it's a sound she doesn't feel. Alix is like that a lot. Easy about sex and always up for surprises. Anything – or anyone – to pass the time.

  She hugs herself suddenly, although the cold isn't coming from Alix's fluffy carpet overheated bedroom. It's coming from inside her. A black wave of knowledge that she doesn't want to think about.

  She shakes her head quickly, forcing herself out of the swamping dark. 'The dress looks good. Honestly.' Well done, Fern. I hate you. She wishes she'd bought Alix something more, but she's supposed to be saving all her Easi Shop earnings – she's going to need a deposit for a flat. It's her big plan for when she's finished college. She's getting away from home. Leaving completely. She'll only ever go back just to touch base with her brothers.

  'So – what else did you get – for your birthday, I mean?'

  'My mum sent some jewellery. And we'll go shopping when she comes over next week.' Alix lifts a blue velvet box, half-buried by a muddle of make-up, opens the lid and hands it across. 'It's not really "me", but I suppose it's the sort of thing you keep forever. I'll probably love it when I'm a hundred and ten.'

  Courtney widens her eyes at the sparkling crucifix. It's a dazzle of colour, crystal gems catching rainbows in the bedroom light. 'Are they real diamonds?'

  Alix leans across her, lifting it out and lacing the chain between her fingers. 'That's what the card said.' She swings the cross to and fro, watching it for a moment. 'It's a scary thing though, a crucifix. I mean, I don't believe in God or anything, but they do have a sort of magic power. Evil things are supposed to shrink and die when you wave them about.'

  Courtney thinks about this. She used to have a crucifix, a tiny gold one that she got when she was christened, and she wore it all the time when she was younger. It never did her any good. 'You'd better look after it then.

  Make sure it stays on your side.'

  Alix laughs and sits back on the bed, swilling the vodka again. Her long legs are curled under her, the magic-power crucifix still dangling casually from one hand. Courtney thinks that, whatever she's doing, Alix always looks amazing. A moment in a photograph. Courtney never looks like that. When she catches her face in the mirror she always looks so strung up. 'This deep dark secret . . . ' Courtney can't stop herself. She wants one last try. 'Did Fern . . . ?'

  'Look. I really can't tell you. But maybe you'll find out one day. Secrets always come out in the end. Now – sssssh.' Alix sits forward, then freezes, one hand raised slightly as she tilts her head. 'Listen. Outside.'

  Courtney listens. The rain is stronger, flinging itself at the window. 'The weather?'

  'No, no.' Alix drops the crucifix down onto the quilt. 'There's a car turning in the drive.' She bounces up from the bed, hurrying to the window. Then she ducks back. 'It's my brother – Aaron – with his mates.'

  Courtney can now hear the growled purr of an engine. The slosh of tyres on wet tarmac. She goes to the window too, standing just behind Alix. Four blokes get out of a four-by-four, dipping their heads against the rain as they wait for each other.

  'That's an expensive set of wheels. Someone's parents must be loaded.' Alix's voice has dropped to something husky and deep. 'I didn't expect them yet. They were supposed to be having football practice before they left. The rain must've stopped them.'

  She steps away, picks up the Vladimir, swigs it hard and then hands it across to Courtney again. 'I couldn't tell from that glimpse though.'

  'Couldn't tell what?'

  'What one I'd want. Could you?'

  Courtney grips the bottle, staring down on the four tops of heads which are now huddled outside the front door. She wants to make herself feel something. Excitement. Anticipation. Bubbles and giggles and girlish delight. None of it comes.

  The doorbell rings and it is like a scream through the house.

  The cold wash of black slides through her again.

  * * *

  They all squash up in the hallway. Aaron gives a small bow. 'Pray, gentlemen – let me introduce you to my fair sister Alix – and . . . '

  'Courtney,' says Courtney.

  Aaron smiles. '. . . the delectable Courtney.'

  Alix smiles back at her brother. He's brought three amazing guys with him. All gorgeous beautiful spunk hunks. Aaron might not be into girls but his mates usually are. The mates he lets her meet, anyway.

  'This is Nathan, Dale and Tom.' Aaron comes forward, goes to hug her and then stops. 'Sorry, fair sister – don't want to get that dress wet. It's thumping down out there, and look at me – I'm dripping. But anyway – happy birthday. And hey – you look stunning.'

  Warm wonderful Aaron. She doesn't care what his secrets are. He's the one guy in the world she'll never get bored with.

  'Thanks.' She squeezes his hand and smiles round at the spunk hunks. She loves it that they're beautiful. Loves it that they've made the effort to come. She still can't decide which one she wants to go for, but time stretches ahead. There's no hurry.

  They've got to be better than the college rabble anyway. The guys there are decent enough but . . . She rolls the thought round her head, trying to decide what she's thinking. Not enough. That's it. Decent enough, but not enough.

  'We've got you refreshments – stashes of the King's best beer,' Aaron is saying. 'It's all out in the carriage.'

  'Bring it in. Bring it on. I've made up some not-so-royal chilli, and there's garlic bread and rice and salad.' She knows she is glowing. Knows the spunk hunks are taking her in and looking her over. The shimmer-blue dress clings in all the right places. They are probably trying not to stare at her breasts. The thought of this makes her warm and shivery, and she bites back a smile.

  The night is young, and it belongs to her.

  'Sounds like a banquet. I'll bring the booze in.' Aaron grins, and goes off.

  'I'll go and help. I'm Tom, by the way.' The spunk hunk who was the driver shoots a grin at her, and heads back outside. He's got a smile to die for. A bit short for her, but who cares about height tonight.

  Nathan and Dale turn and follow him.

  Alix raises her eyebrows at Courtney, who raises her eyebrows back.

  'Kitchen,' says Alix. 'Let's make sure everything's ready.'

  She closes the door, try
ing to use the moments between lighting the oven and manoeuvring the salad from the over-stuffed fridge, to gauge a reaction from Courtney.

  'What d'you think?'

  'I think they look . . . ' Courtney gets glasses down from the cupboard. Lines them along the top of the washing machine. Then she fills up a bowl of frothy hot water and starts cleaning the sink. '. . .OK.'

  'OK? Come on – they're gorgeous. Which one would you go for? I promise to give you a free run if you just say the name.' Alix pulls some garlic bread from a carrier bag on the floor, wraps it in tinfoil, and pokes it on the bottom shelf of the oven. It's too long and it crushes up against the door as she jams it shut. She shrugs. It doesn't matter. Everyone will be too drunk to care soon anyway.

  'Sorry.' Courtney jerks a look round at her, her expression strained, as if she'd been somewhere else in her head. 'What did you say?'

  Alix pulls a frozen pizza from the freezer, tearing open the box. 'Surely you—' But the question is sliced short by spunk hunk Tom staggering in with a box of beers.

  Alix steps slightly to the side but the space is tight and Tom brushes her arm as he passes, pressing into her.

  'We've got plenty of vodka.' Alix smiles at him and sweeps her hair back from her face. It splays down over her shoulders, and she can feel its silk touch on her skin. 'And some soft drinks. Of course.'

  'Of course.' Tom edges Courtney's newly lined up glasses to one side and plonks his box beside them. 'Many coming?'

  'Just a college crowd. They'll bring drinks too. Do you think I've got enough though?'

  'Oh, I think so.' Tom gives her the to-die-for smile. 'You've got plenty.' He looks at her. They are very close. He has tawny eyes, gold flecks among the brown. The rain has curled his hair slightly. Dampened his shirt. She wonders if she should slip off her heels.

  'Food, glorious food.' Aaron springs into the kitchen, sniffing like a starved bloodhound. 'All smells delicious. It's been a miserable journey in the rain, and we need replenishing. Oh, hang on – birthday gift for the fair maiden.'

  He hands Alix a parcel. Small. Flat. CD size and shape.

  She takes it, turning slightly to break the moment with Tom. 'Thanks – I – wonder – what – it could – be.'

  Tom laughs loudly.

  Dale and Nathan appear in the doorway. They are laughing too. Alix thinks about princesses in history, all the court bent double because Her Royal Highness said something amusing. She feels a rush of something. Confidence? Power? She is Princess for the night. All the world will bow before her.

  She shreds the last corner of paper from the CD, waving it round as if there are crowds lining the streets to see it. 'Thank you, Good Sir.'

  'The Blades, my fair maiden. Triple box set. A real favourite at court, I understand. You haven't got it, have you?'

  Alix slides a look at Courtney, who is still scouring away at the sink, her back to them all. She's fairly certain she's not listening. 'No. No. I've been wanting it, though. It was top of my list – even ahead of a certain bewitched frog.'

  'Say cheese, please.' She looks round as Dale holds a mobile up at her. It's one of the newest multi-media Smartphones. He is taller than Tom. Golden blond. She usually goes for tall blond-haired guys.

  She glitters out a smile at him. Eighteen. Gorgeous. Princess for the day.

  The doorbell rings at the same time as the land line phone.

  'I'll do the door,' Courtney says.

  Alix wonders if Courtney was listening after all, and then decides that it doesn't matter. Her CD had a Cash Converters sticker on it anyway. It's not as if she broke the bank buying it.

  She watches as Courtney washes her hands, drying them carefully on some kitchen towel. She folds it neatly into squares before wedging it into the already bulging bin. 'Probably the first of the college crowd. Prepare for Invasion.'

  Alix watches Nathan's eyes follow Courtney as she heads to the hall, and thinks it'll make things easier if they get together. She'll only have to choose between two spunk hunks then. She heads for the front room. It'll be Mum who has rung, of course. Everyone else always calls her mobile.

  Beside her, Aaron kneels by the CD player, starting up the Blades.

  'Hello? Mum?'

  'Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to . . . '

  Mum always sings as if she's on stage, to an audience. Alix can picture her now, the way she'll be shaping her face. Possibly stretching out one arm for performance value. If Carlos is there, watching, she'll be sliding him glances, and smiling. He'll be transfixed. Drooling. The creep. 'Hi, Mum.'

  The Blades start up and she drums her nails on the handset, tapping her fingers with the beat.

  People start filling the room. Dale appears, takes another mobile shot, winks and shows it to her. She smiles down at it, nodding, thinking she's looking good.

  Tom jostles past him, mouthing, 'It's vodka and orange.' He hands her a full glass and stands watching her, knocking back his own beer and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He has nice hands. Strong-looking. Alix likes guys with strong-looking hands.

  She tries to focus on what Mum is saying to her. 'So how are you, darling? Are you having a good day?'

  'Fantastic, thanks.' She sips the orange vodka. Dale is lurking with his mobile again. A gold-haired god. She's going to have to choose between him and Tom.

  'Aaron said he was coming, and you'd be having some friends round. That's lovely for you.'

  'Yes.' She waits for Mum to tell her exactly when she's flying back to celebrate with her. She's bound to make it special, even though it'll all be rushed. A shopping spree – probably London. A meal out in one of the restaurants down the cobbled lanes in Long Cove. Then hurried goodbye hugs before jetting back to Tuscany for more lavishings with Creepy Carlos. 'Thanks for the present. The crucifix. It's fantastic.'

  'Carlos found it. It's very valuable. He says we must get it added to your contents insurance.'

  Dale seems to be taking a string of pictures, and Alix forces another smile across at him. Creepy Carlos chose it? What the hell has her eighteenth got to do with him? Mum should have been pounding the streets of Tuscany choosing something herself. She'll be glad when Mum finally drops him and moves on to the next one – and in between lovers Mum always spends more time with her. 'Carlos chose it? That's sweet of him. Give him a hug for me.'

  'Of course, darling. But – Alix – there's something else. The reason I couldn't come over to be with you today. I wish I could have come – then I would have been able to tell you properly.'

  'Tell me what properly?' She feels an uneasy prickling in her chest.

  'I've been feeling so queasy. And the doctor said . . . '

  Alix drains back the orange vodka in one go.

  'We've been trying for a while, as they say. We thought I might be too old . . . ' Mum gives a high, girlish laugh.

  Presents pile up in the corner. Ribbons and bows. Strangers have been choosing things; wrapping things; lavishing her. More of the rabble press in, blowing her kisses. Someone turns the music up louder. Courtney appears, dragged in by Nathan. They start to dance.

  '. . .was so lucky . . .Carlos sorted out a specialist and . . . '

  Aaron comes in with Fern, sits her down on the sofa. Fern waves at Alix. She looks flushed and nervous, her eyes following Aaron as he disappears back into the kitchen, coming back a moment later and bringing her a drink.

  '. . . so maybe you could come here instead? Christmas would be best. I should feel better by then. From what I remember with you and Aaron, the nausea wears off after about three months. Carlos will send you the fare.'

  Alix's hand clenches on the empty glass. If it breaks the jagged fragments will cut her palm. Warm blood on the carpet. Has Carlos told Mum they must get the carpets insured?

  'Alix?'

  'Mum, I have to go. I can't hear you very well.'

  She puts the receiver down slowly. Carefully. She feels she has iced up somehow; frozen inside.

  Dale
appears and she lets him take the empty glass from her. Tom touches her shoulder.

  She stares at them both for a moment and then shakes herself, forcing out a smile.

  To hell with Mum.

  To hell with everything.

  She links arms with both Tom and Dale, her beautiful strangers. Pulling them closer she steers them towards the middle of the room. Glowing. Gorgeous. Princess for the day. 'Come on, let's dance. All three of us together.'

  * * *

  Nathan has led Courtney into the front room where the Blades are playing – again. It must be Aaron's CD because the one she gave was left upstairs. She's still got the receipt – so Alix can swap it if she likes. Or perhaps she'll just pass it on to someone else, at another party. Recycling presents. What does it matter where something comes from? If she was Alix she'd probably recycle it too.

  They start to dance in a slow, distanced way. She can feel his eyes on her, trying to make her look back at him. His right arm circles her waist, pulling her closer. 'So-oo sexy.'

  Courtney stiffens.

  He loosens the hold but keeps his hand there and she can feel it touching and touching and touching all through her black sleeveless top, to her skin.

  She dances faster so that she can turn her body away from him and try and give herself a bit of space.

  He speeds up too, catching her waist again, drawing her back in. 'Are you gay or something?' he laughs, nibbling her ear.

  She makes herself smile at him, and hopes it doesn't look too fake. She should at least try and look friendly. These are Alix's brother's mates after all. She should do this for Alix –maybe that could be her birthday present. A sort of hostess. Alix might find that more useful than a doubled-up CD. 'Of course not.' She thinks that maybe being gay would be better. Easier. Only she isn't. She doesn't want girls to touch her anymore than she wants blokes.

  She lets him nuzzle against her. Stroke her back. Pull her in tight.

  There's a stack of presents on the floor and she counts them. Nineteen. There must be more people here than that but some will have come with partners. One present between two.