Dissing You Already: Young, Loaded and Fabulous

by Kate Kingsley

Genres: General Fiction

Synopsis

Addictive, risqué, glamourous fiction series for sophisticated teens. Alice and Tally, the most gorgeous, glamorous girls at St Cecilia's, are best friends. But since Alice shared a fabulously romantic tryst with Tally's ex during a New Year's skiing trip, it seems only a matter of time before things get ugly. But Tally seems too distracted to notice Alice's guilty behaviour. Where did she disappear to over the Christmas break? Where has she got hold of the cash she's flaunting around? And where has she got the beautiful new necklace with its mysterious coat of arms. Alice hopes it doesn't have anything to do with the scary sounding Russian connections Tally's boasted of. The new term will bring gossip, glamour and scandal than ever before...

Release date: June 7, 2012

Publisher: Headline

Print pages: 320

Sample

The grandfather clock chimed two p.m. and echoed down the Rochesters’ dim, silent hallway, past a row of antique oil paintings. In her bedroom, Alice Rochester yawned and sprawled across the rumpled sheets.

‘This is all your fault,’ she grinned, nudging Tom Randall-Stubbs with her big toe. ‘I never stayed in bed this late before you seduced me. See what a bad influence you are?’

‘Yeah, right, I’m the bad influence,’ Rando laughed. He shook a wave of dark brown hair off his forehead. ‘That’s why every time I try to get up and do something constructive with my day, you trap me in the duvet.’

‘I do not.’ Alice giggled.

‘Do too.’

‘Do not!’ Alice threw back the sheets. ‘See? No one’s trapping you. You can leave if you’re so desperate. Go on, go ahead. Go do something constructive.’

Rando poked her in the ribs, his sea-blue eyes sparkling. ‘You always have to win an argument, don’t you? Such a spoiled little brat. But at least,’ he added, inching closer, ‘you’re a gorgeous spoiled brat.’

Alice smiled as Rando kissed her. He’d hardly stopped kissing her for the past five days. Kissing and stroking and nibbling . . . Her eyelids fluttered shut at the touch of his fingers under the covers, and she buried her nose in his neck, breathing in the warm, sleepy smell of his skin. She couldn’t believe it was only ten days ago that the two of them had first made love. They’d done it in secret, in a snowy Alpine cabin under the moonlight, while the rest of their friends were partying away the New Year. From the moment Rando’s hands had caressed her naked body, Alice had finally understood what everyone was going on about when they raved about sex. Breathless, blood-pounding, spine-quivering sex.

And the romance had continued from there – despite the fact that both she and Rando were betraying people by carrying it on. But Alice didn’t want to think about that now.

‘This has been a good start to the year, hasn’t it?’ she whispered, her lips touching his.

‘Mmm.’ He grinned, propped on his elbows above her. ‘And I can’t think of a better way to end the holidays – your family being in Paris and leaving us the house to ourselves.’

‘Although it might mean we’re spending a bit too much time in bed . . .’

‘Of course we’re not. We can never spend too much time in bed. In fact, I vote we stay here all day and night until tomorrow.’

‘Hmmm. Tempting. What’ll that make it? Thirty-six hours straight?’

‘Thirty-seven.’

‘Oh, yes. Very precise.’

‘Let’s settle in for the afternoon. We can open a bottle of red wine and watch crap TV under the duvet and let the sun sink outside your window.’

‘Or . . .’ Alice wheedled, ‘we could go get something to eat.’

‘Eat?’ Rando pulled a face of mock dismay. ‘How can you think about food when I’m trying to be all romantic?’

‘Because I’m starving. We haven’t had anything since that smoked salmon last night. Can you believe that was the only thing my parents left in the fridge?’

‘Made a pretty delicious dinner though.’

‘Yeah, and now it’s lunchtime. I need sustenance. We’ve been burning a lot of calories, you know.’

‘True,’ Rando grinned, sitting up. ‘Let me think . . . Do you like hamburgers?’

‘Love them.’

‘Good. I know this great little place near Sloane Square that we can walk to. And then when we come back to bed, we can feel all virtuous that we made it outside at all.’

Throwing on some clothes, they strolled into the afternoon. Alice swung Rando’s hand as they meandered through Kensington, along street after street of London’s most elegant houses. The weak January sun filtered through the trees, casting spidery shadows on the pavement, and the cold air blazed through Alice’s lungs. A smile played on her lips. She hadn’t realised it was possible to feel this happy. Being with Rando made her feel free. It made her feel buoyant – like a ship on a sunny sea. Like a balloon on a breezy day. Everything seemed to sparkle. Everything – even a simple walk like this – was the most fun she could remember having in years. She gave Rando’s fingers a squeeze.

‘Hey, look,’ he said, returning the pressure. He was slowing down in front of a display window. ‘I never knew there was a guitar shop here. Looks like a cool place.’

‘Mm. Hungry,’ Alice reminded him.

‘Ooh, hang on.’ Rando was peering inside. ‘That’s a Martin Dreadnought! The same guitar that Johnny Cash played. And look at that one. I’ve been wanting a new guitar for ages.’

‘Starving!’ Alice wailed.

Rando draped an arm around her. ‘I know, I know! But do you mind if we just pop in? Really quickly? Go on . . .’

Alice smiled as he nuzzled her neck. ‘How can I say no? But you’d better remember this favour later on.’

The shop door jangled as they stepped in out of the cold. Rando wandered towards the back, disappearing behind a shelf of sheet music. Alice followed. She watched as he picked out a melody on a shiny new guitar.

‘You’re getting really good, you know. I like that tune.’

‘Thanks. I wrote it the other day. I’ve been hoping I can play it during a Paper Bandits gig. If Tristan . . .’

Rando fell silent. Alice looked at the floor. The sound of her boyfriend’s name – and the name of her boyfriend’s band – came between them like a knife. Alice and Tristan Murray-Middleton had been friends since they were toddlers. In the autumn they’d started dating, and from the moment of their first kiss, Alice had assumed they’d be together for ever. Then, out of the blue, she’d fallen for Rando. At first, nothing had happened, but when Alice and Tristan had argued during their crew’s ski trip in the Alps, the cheating had begun.

A frown clouded her face. If Tristan had been the only obstacle to her relationship with Rando, it would have been bad enough. But he wasn’t. There was Tally Abbott, too. Tally was Alice’s best friend in the world – and she was also Rando’s ex. Just before Christmas, when Rando had dumped Tally, he’d broken her heart. So painfully that Tally had refused to come on the New Year ski trip. Instead, she’d disappeared, leaving only a cryptic text message in her wake. No one had seen a trace of her in ten days, and everyone was worried. Every time Alice’s phone rang, she lunged for it, hoping and fearing that her BFF would be on the other end.

Alice sighed. She couldn’t think about this now. She had to push it out of her head. Term was starting in a few days and she’d be forced to think about it then. But for now, all she wanted was for her and Rando to enjoy their last few days of peace.

‘Play me another song?’ she asked, stroking his arm.

He gave her a smile. ‘What would you like?’

‘Don’t know. Have you written anything else?’

‘Well . . . sort of. I could play you this thing I’ve been working on . . .’

‘Go on.’

‘But it’s kind of embarrassing.’

‘Come on, just play it!’

‘OK, but it’s just a fragment. I’m still tweaking it.’ Rando strummed and sang softly, his gaze fixed on Alice’s.

I always knew somehow

We’d end up here.

Now that I have you,

I’ll keep you near.

I’d rather be kissing you

Than anyone else.

This is the happiest

I’ve ever felt.

I’d rather be kissing you,

Your smile of sunbeams.

I kiss you every night

In my dreams.

I’d rather be kissing you,

Your smile of sunbeams.

I kiss you all night long

In my dreams.

Alice’s eyes were glistening. ‘It’s wonderful,’ she whispered.

‘You like it?’

‘I love it.’

I love you, she wanted to say, but she stopped herself. Instead, she leaned in to kiss him. As they pressed into each other, the doorbell jingled again. Alice glanced up through a gap in the shelves of sheet music. Suddenly, her heart stopped. She leapt back from Rando.

‘Hide!’ she gasped, shrinking into the corner. ‘Shit. Keep quiet. Oh my god, we’re dead.’

‘Why? What do you mean?’

‘It’s him,’ she mouthed. ‘Tristan.’

Rando squinted through the music books. His face whitened. ‘And not just T. He’s with my cousin, too.’

It was true. Behind Tristan, Jasper von Holstadt had come into the shop, his haughty, handsome face still tanned after their week of skiing. Along with Seb Ogilvy, Jasper was Tristan’s closest friend.

‘Mate, what are we doing in here?’ Jasper’s voice floated back to them, as Tristan sauntered along the racks of guitars.

‘Just looking. I won’t be long.’

‘Whatever. By the way, you didn’t answer my question.’

Tristan lifted a guitar off the wall, played a few chords, and put it back.

‘What question?’ he said. He wandered towards the rear of the shop, approaching the book-case that was hiding Alice and Rando from view.

Alice held her breath. She watched through the gaps between the shelves. Stop, she willed him. Stop. Please. T was now so close, she could see the flecks in his hazel eyes. He was wearing his favourite cashmere scarf. His chestnut hair was sticking up in its usual quiff. Alice bit her lip. Only a few months ago, she’d thought T’s hair was the sexiest thing in the world. Now, it just made her sad.

‘What do you mean, what question?’ Jasper was saying. ‘I asked if you’d made things up with Alice yet.’

Tristan stopped in his tracks.

Thank god, Alice muttered to herself. Stay there. Don’t come any closer. Still as a stone, she waited for Tristan’s reply.

Slowly, he turned back towards Jasper. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘Because that was a pretty serious fight you two had on the ski trip. Do you think you’ll be able to patch things up?’

‘Of course. I just haven’t seen her yet. We got off the plane back from the Alps and went our separate ways. I think we’ve both been stewing.’

‘But are you going to see her soon?’

‘Yeah man, don’t worry, it’s all under control.’ Tristan smirked. ‘And by the way, since when do you care so much about my relationship?’

‘I don’t. I’m just curious. I mean, it’s you and Alice. The golden couple. If there’s drama, I want to be the first to know.’

‘How sweet of you. Well, there’s no drama, OK?’ T shoved his hands in his pockets. Through the shelves, Alice stared. Maybe she was wrong, but a glimmer of doubt seemed to flicker across T’s face. ‘We’re meeting up tomorrow and we’ll sort it out. We love each other, we’ve known each other forever and we totally understand each other. It’ll be fine.’

‘If you say so.’ Jasper yawned. ‘Whatever. Come on, man – I’m bored of guitars. Let’s go back to yours and play on the Xbox and smoke some weed.’

‘Can’t argue with that plan.’ Tristan grinned. He turned on his heel, away from the bookshelf. A moment later, he and Jasper were out the door.

Alice’s shoulders drooped in relief. For the first time in five minutes, she felt like she could breathe.

‘Fuck,’ Rando murmured. ‘I thought we were done for.’

‘Yeah. Thank god they’re gone.’ Alice sank her head on to his shoulder. ‘We have to be more careful. We can’t let Tristan find out. Or Tally. Or anyone. No one can ever find out.’

For a moment, Rando said nothing. Then he nodded. But as he stroked Alice’s hair, there was a troubled look in his eyes.

Bluebird, on the King’s Road, was noisy, packed and hot. Dylan Taylor folded her arms over her beige cashmere coat and sighed. It was the Friday before term started, and she should be out shopping and seeing friends like every other normal sixteen-year-old in London. But she’d promised her mother she’d come to this family lunch, instead. And, at half past two, they were still waiting for their table.

‘Pardon me,’ simpered a voice.

Dylan glanced to her left. Victor Dalgleish, her mother’s fiancé, was waving the manager over, one eye contorted into a conspiratorial wink. As she watched, Victor (or Vic, as he insisted that everyone call him) slipped a fifty-pound note into the man’s hand and flashed him a bleached white grin. Dylan had to stop herself being sick at the sight of it. Not only was Vic unbelievably vulgar, but he actually thought he had class. Which he didn’t. He looked like a used-car salesman. The ratty sideburns. The pointy shoes. The gold rings on his chubby fingers, which were right now resting on her mom’s bum. Dylan couldn’t believe their wedding was in less than four months. With the speed they were arranging it, you’d have thought they were two randy teenagers.

‘I hope everyone’s hungry,’ said Dylan’s mother, Piper, as she settled into the maroon leather banquette.

‘I’m starving!’ Dylan announced. ‘Yum, that steak looks awesome.’

Piper shot her an appreciative smile. A few weeks ago, Dylan would never have answered without being hostile. In fact, she probably wouldn’t have answered at all. She and her mother had been at each other’s throats since September, when Piper had suddenly transplanted her two daughters to London from New York, so she could be with the new love of her life. Dylan absolutely hated Victor. But, over the Christmas holidays, she’d promised her mother that she’d try her best to get on with him. After all, he was about to join their family.

‘I think the organic sea trout sounds good,’ Piper mused, holding up the giant menu.

‘Oh, no, absolutely not,’ Victor interrupted. Victor was incapable of hearing a conversation without interrupting. ‘I forbid you to have something so boring. You have to try the fish and chips, baby. It’s a classic here. Classic.’

‘But sweetheart,’ Piper objected, ‘the wedding. I have to watch my figure.’

‘Ah yes,’ Victor purred, ‘well I suppose I’ll allow that. But only if I can watch it, too. Mmm, and what a nice figure it is.’ He slid his hand round Piper’s waist, practically groping her boob. ‘We have to keep you nice and svelte, don’t we, baby? For all our public appearances.’

Dylan almost gagged on her sourdough roll. Victor was a B-list TV personality, adored by housewives and old ladies, and he was always taking their mother to what he described as ‘jet-setting media ragers’. Recently, Piper had travelled round Europe with him on a book tour for his new memoir.

Now he was stroking her thigh. ‘Just look at your mother. Isn’t she a stunner, kids?’

I’m not a kid, Dylan wanted to snap. But she forced herself to smile. ‘Oh, yeah. She’s great.’

Dylan’s fourteen-year-old sister, Lauren, said nothing. She was hunched in the neighbouring seat, and her lower lip was trembling.

‘Now,’ Victor went on, patting the menu magnanimously, ‘I want you kids to order yourselves a nice big meal. Don’t hold back. Don’t tell me you’re on any of these bloody stupid New Year diets. You’re both growing girls, heh heh, and God knows what rubbish they feed you at that posh boarding school. Fried fish sticks and tinned spaghetti – that’s what it was in my day. Ah, I remember it well.’ He sniffed, and crossed one denim-clad leg over the other. Victor was one of those middle-aged losers who wore his tapered jeans just that little bit too short. ‘The sight of the tough old dinner ladies. The sound of homesick little boys crying for their mummies. The swish of the masters whacking you with—’

Suddenly, Lauren slammed her menu on to the polished tabletop. Her blue eyes were flooded with tears. ‘Mom, please!’ she cried. ‘Don’t make me go back. Please!’

Dylan squeezed her sister’s shoulders. The couple at the next table glanced in their direction.

‘Darling, shush,’ Piper murmured. ‘We’ll discuss this at home.’

‘But Mom . . . I hate that school. I hate it!’ Lauren burst into tears.

The neighbouring couple fixated on their plates of asparagus. Dylan could tell they were hanging on every word. That was so English. To pretend you were politely ignoring a ruckus when you were eavesdropping within an inch of your life.

‘Darling—’ Piper began.

‘Now, now, Lauren.’ Victor cut her off. ‘Chin up. You only started at St Cecilia’s a month ago – you haven’t given it a chance. It’s one of the most prestigious schools in England, and lots of little girls would give their right arm to go there. So pull yourself together, and don’t upset your mum.’

‘I’m not a little girl,’ Lauren snarled. ‘And why should I listen to you? You’re not my dad, so butt out.’

‘Lauren!’ Piper cried.

‘It’s none of his business, Mom! You can’t make me go back to that place. Everyone in my class – they’re so mean and horrible. They all know my secrets – they’ve read my diary! Even the boys at Hasted House.’ Tears were streaming down Lauren’s usually rosy cheeks.

‘Come, come!’ Victor chuckled. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. Of course the boys haven’t read your diary. How could they possibly have got hold of it?’

‘Dear,’ said Piper, laying her hand on his lap, ‘don’t you remember? I told you what happened. One of Lauren’s roommates, what’s her name . . .’

‘Georgina,’ hiccuped Lauren. ‘Fortescue.’

‘Right. Fortescue. She stole Lauren’s diary and published it on Facebook. Everyone did read it. Don’t you remember how upset Lauren was at the end of term?’

Victor shrugged. ‘I’m a busy man. I can’t remember every little teenage drama that unfolds in our house.’

Piper patted his hand. ‘Lauren, darling, listen. The school has assured me that they’ve suspended Georgina for the first week of term. So she won’t be bullying you again in a hurry.’

‘The first week?’ Lauren shrieked. The asparagus couple flinched. ‘She should be expelled! She ruined my life. Why didn’t they kick her out?’

Dylan opened her mouth to remark that Georgie’s family was far too rich for the school to dare. But before she could get a word out, Victor slapped his hand on the banquette.

‘Bloody hell!’ he guffawed. ‘Stop making such a stink. You were probably desperate for the boys to read your diary – all you young people post your private lives online these days. You’re all exhibitionists. And anyway, this little incident is nothing. You should be thankful you’re not a celebrity, such as myself – then you’d have to learn to cope with invasions of privacy. All publicity is good publicity, that’s what I say.’

Dylan shot him a death-stare across the table. For Lauren, having the entire school read that she’d never even kissed a boy – never mind the fact that she had a massive crush on Alice Rochester’s younger brother, Hugo – definitely wasn’t good publicity. Dylan shuddered. She knew all about how horrific the St Cecilia’s girls could be, first hand.

‘Victor has no idea what he’s talking about, Mom,’ she said. ‘You should let Lauren go back to day school in London. You don’t know what it’s like.’

‘Please, please please!’ Lauren begged. ‘I can’t go back to St Cecilia’s. I can’t.’

But Piper only shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, but it’s impossible. Vic and I are planning to travel a lot, and you can’t stay home alone. St Cecilia’s is a wonderful school. Besides, it’s good for you to face your fears.’

Before Dylan could argue, her phone beeped. She sneaked a look in her lap.

OMG! read Alice’s text. Massive close call this afternoon. Was with Rando and almost bumped smack into T.

Dylan gasped.

‘What’s wrong?’ her mother asked.

‘Oh . . . uh, nothing. Just some homework I forgot about.’ Dylan’s fingers raced over the keypad. These days, she was Alice Rochester’s only confidante, the only person who knew about Alice and Rando. The two girls had been arch-enemies when Dylan first started at St Cecilia’s last September, but Alice, the queen of the school, had slowly learned to trust and respect her.

Shit! she wrote. Did he see you??

No. But almost. He was with Jasper. Phew.

Dylan’s eyebrows creased as she read . . .