it.”
She stepped down in a stately manner and gave a little twirl. Rose and Daisy came running out to see.
“What have you done to it?” gasped Rose.
“Nothing very much. Only tacked up the hem. It’ll easily untack again. And I’ve used safety pins for taking it in. They don’t show, do they?”
Bemused, Jazz shook her head.
“I told you I wouldn’t be seen dead in anything I’ve got.”
“You’re wearing Mum’s earrings, as well!” said Daisy.
“Yes.” Laurel put up a hand and flicked at them. “They’re nice, aren’t they? All sparkly.”
“But how have you fixed them?” said Jazz. “Your ears aren’t pierced!”
“I’ve fixed them with wire. You can’t see ’cos I’ve curled my hair over.”
Jazz swallowed. Laurel hadn’t just curled her hair over, she’d puffed it up like a big froth of candy floss. She had also plastered her face with make-up. All this for smarmy Simon!
“You’d better be home on time,” said Rose. “You know the rules!”
Laurel smiled, a sweet sickly smile. “Simon will bring me home. He’s got his dad’s car. Oh, and there he is!” she cried, as a car horn tooted. “See you later!”
Really, thought Jazz, Laurel had become horridly slurpy just lately. If this was what having a boyfriend did to you, then she was glad she didn’t have one. She didn’t count Theo, even though he had rung her up several times and taken her out once – to the Theatre Museum in Covent Garden, with free tickets. But Theo wasn’t a boyfriend: he was just a friend. And that wasthe way Jazz meant to keep it. She didn’t have room in her life for slurpiness.
They stood watching at the window as Laurel went wobbling down the path to the front gate. Jazz saw that she was wearing high heels.
Mum’s
high heels. No wonder she was wobbling! They were the gold strappy sandals Mum kept for special occasions. The heels were like long spikes, about three inches tall. If she’s not careful, she’ll break her ankle, thought Jazz. Laurel really had become quite impossible!
As they watched, smarmy Simon stepped out of the car and came round, with a flourish, to open the passenger door.
Creep!
thought Jazz. He was, she supposed, quite handsome in a nerdy sort of way. If you went for that sort of thing. All long and bendy with a beaky nose that made him look like a startled parrot, and black hair scragged back into a soppy little scrawny pony tail, and—
At that moment, Simon turned and smiled and waved a languid hand, and in spite of herself, Jazz had to gulp and swallow. It was a good thing she wasn’t as easily impressed as her sister! Laurel probably saw the slimeball as being tall and slim and aristocratic-looking. Like an eagle, or a Roman emperor. She probably thought it romantic to have black hair tied in a ponytail. It probably gave her the flutters when he spoke in that slow, drawling voice of his. There was no accounting for taste.
As Laurel stepped into the car, Simon bent and dropped a light kiss on her forehead.
“Ugh! Yuck!” said Daisy. “He kissed her!”
It was too disgusting, thought Jazz. Laurel had only been out with him a couple of times.
“What does she
see
in him?” wailed Daisy.
“She thinks he’s tall, dark and handsome,” said Jazz.
“And posh,” said Rose.
“And posh,” agreed Jazz.
“She finds him
attractive.
Ugh! Yuck! Throw up!” said Rose.
Jazz sighed. “She thinks he’s sophisticated.”
“Just because he’s older than she is!”
“How old?” said Daisy.
“Well, he’s at uni,” said Jazz, “so he must be at least eighteen.”
“Daisy’s eyes widened. “That’s
old.
”
“That’s why she likes him.”
There was a silence.
“I suppose she knows what she’s doing,” said Rose.
“I s’pose so,” said Jazz. But in any case, Laurel was the eldest. She wouldn’t take any notice what the rest of them said.
The car drove away. Jazz and Rose went upstairs to their bedrooms, Jazz to practise audition
She stepped down in a stately manner and gave a little twirl. Rose and Daisy came running out to see.
“What have you done to it?” gasped Rose.
“Nothing very much. Only tacked up the hem. It’ll easily untack again. And I’ve used safety pins for taking it in. They don’t show, do they?”
Bemused, Jazz shook her head.
“I told you I wouldn’t be seen dead in anything I’ve got.”
“You’re wearing Mum’s earrings, as well!” said Daisy.
“Yes.” Laurel put up a hand and flicked at them. “They’re nice, aren’t they? All sparkly.”
“But how have you fixed them?” said Jazz. “Your ears aren’t pierced!”
“I’ve fixed them with wire. You can’t see ’cos I’ve curled my hair over.”
Jazz swallowed. Laurel hadn’t just curled her hair over, she’d puffed it up like a big froth of candy floss. She had also plastered her face with make-up. All this for smarmy Simon!
“You’d better be home on time,” said Rose. “You know the rules!”
Laurel smiled, a sweet sickly smile. “Simon will bring me home. He’s got his dad’s car. Oh, and there he is!” she cried, as a car horn tooted. “See you later!”
Really, thought Jazz, Laurel had become horridly slurpy just lately. If this was what having a boyfriend did to you, then she was glad she didn’t have one. She didn’t count Theo, even though he had rung her up several times and taken her out once – to the Theatre Museum in Covent Garden, with free tickets. But Theo wasn’t a boyfriend: he was just a friend. And that wasthe way Jazz meant to keep it. She didn’t have room in her life for slurpiness.
They stood watching at the window as Laurel went wobbling down the path to the front gate. Jazz saw that she was wearing high heels.
Mum’s
high heels. No wonder she was wobbling! They were the gold strappy sandals Mum kept for special occasions. The heels were like long spikes, about three inches tall. If she’s not careful, she’ll break her ankle, thought Jazz. Laurel really had become quite impossible!
As they watched, smarmy Simon stepped out of the car and came round, with a flourish, to open the passenger door.
Creep!
thought Jazz. He was, she supposed, quite handsome in a nerdy sort of way. If you went for that sort of thing. All long and bendy with a beaky nose that made him look like a startled parrot, and black hair scragged back into a soppy little scrawny pony tail, and—
At that moment, Simon turned and smiled and waved a languid hand, and in spite of herself, Jazz had to gulp and swallow. It was a good thing she wasn’t as easily impressed as her sister! Laurel probably saw the slimeball as being tall and slim and aristocratic-looking. Like an eagle, or a Roman emperor. She probably thought it romantic to have black hair tied in a ponytail. It probably gave her the flutters when he spoke in that slow, drawling voice of his. There was no accounting for taste.
As Laurel stepped into the car, Simon bent and dropped a light kiss on her forehead.
“Ugh! Yuck!” said Daisy. “He kissed her!”
It was too disgusting, thought Jazz. Laurel had only been out with him a couple of times.
“What does she
see
in him?” wailed Daisy.
“She thinks he’s tall, dark and handsome,” said Jazz.
“And posh,” said Rose.
“And posh,” agreed Jazz.
“She finds him
attractive.
Ugh! Yuck! Throw up!” said Rose.
Jazz sighed. “She thinks he’s sophisticated.”
“Just because he’s older than she is!”
“How old?” said Daisy.
“Well, he’s at uni,” said Jazz, “so he must be at least eighteen.”
“Daisy’s eyes widened. “That’s
old.
”
“That’s why she likes him.”
There was a silence.
“I suppose she knows what she’s doing,” said Rose.
“I s’pose so,” said Jazz. But in any case, Laurel was the eldest. She wouldn’t take any notice what the rest of them said.
The car drove away. Jazz and Rose went upstairs to their bedrooms, Jazz to practise audition
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