Girl Online

Chapter Twenty-Five

When I wake up the next day, I have that Christmas-morning feeling. Like I know before I’ve even opened my eyes that something really lovely is going to happen before I’ve remembered what it is. And then, in seconds, it all comes flooding back. Noah—I’m going to see Noah. I open my eyes and see the doll staring right at me. She’s fallen over in the night and is now lying facing me on the pillow.

“Good morning!” I say to her, because I’m so overexcited I’ll even talk to a doll. “Did you sleep well?”

I imagine the doll saying, “No actually, I slept terribly because my eyes are glued open. How would you sleep if your eyes were glued open?”

OK, I need to get up.

I have a shower, then I sit cross-legged on my bed with a towel around my wet hair and open my laptop. I feel really nervous as I wait for my blog to load. What if my readers thought my last post was stupid and over-the-top? What if I’ve got some negative comments?

But I needn’t have worried—the comments are all even lovelier than ever, most of them containing little red heart emoticons and demands for more details about Brooklyn Boy.

I’m just about to see if Elliot is awake when I get a text message. Please, please, please be from Noah, I silently plead. As I pick up my phone, I notice the doll gazing at me from where I’ve sat her up on the pillow. “Oh, purlease,” I imagine her saying. I take a deep breath and try to be cool, but as soon as I see that the text is from Noah, the fluttering begins.

I dreamed that I was taking you all around New York and every place we visited turned into cake. What could this mean?! N

I quickly text back.

That you’ve been struck by the Curse of Magical Mystery Day . . . ? Sounds amazing, though. Imagine if the Empire State Building turned into cake!

Have you looked outside yet?

No, why? Has the moon turned green?

I go over to the window and pull back the curtain. Feathery flakes of snow are tumbling from the sky. The buildings down below look as if they’ve been sprinkled in icing sugar.

Oh wow—it looks so beautiful!

Yep—now it feels like Christmas! Have a great day and see you at midnight!

You too!

Even though I think it’s going to be the slowest, dullest day in history because I’m so excited to see Noah, the wedding is actually really good fun. As the guests start to arrive, the suite becomes more and more like Downton Abbey. The men look so handsome in their black and grey dress suits with their hair all slicked back. And the women look stunning. Every twenties-style dress is a work of art, made from satin and lace and the most intricate beading, all in the most beautiful muted shades like lavender, emerald, and plum. Even the children are in costume, looking just like china dolls in their ruffles and buttoned-up boots. I can’t help feeling a bit wistful as I look down at my own servant’s costume—a plain, starchy black A-line dress with an even starchier white apron over the top of it.

While the professional photographer takes some posed shots of the groomsmen and the guests, I sneak around with my much smaller camera, taking impromptu shots. I get a few lovely close-ups of the detail on some of the dresses and a super-cute shot of two of the flower girls whispering in each other’s ear. Then, just as someone announces the bride’s arrival and the guests all rush to their seats, I take a really romantic picture of Jim at the top of the aisle, looking so nervous and hopeful and handsome as he waits for Cindy to appear.

In the end, they decide not to put on British accents to read their vows, which I’m really glad about. The vows are so beautifully written and heartfelt. They’ve added in all these really fun, personal details like Cindy promising not to moan about Jim watching baseball and Jim promising to learn to love reality TV. By the time the ceremony’s over, I’m a gooey emotional wreck.

As the guests all start tucking into the wedding breakfast, Mum pulls me over to one side. Her eyes are bright and sparkly and she’s grinning from ear to ear.

“Pen, you’ll never guess what! I’ve been asked if I’ll theme a party. Here in New York.”

“What? When?”

“Next week.” Mum looks over at the head table. “You know the maid of honor—the big lady with all the hair?”

“Yes.”

“Well, it’s her thirtieth birthday on the day before New Year’s Eve and she’s asked if I’ll help her organize a mods-and-rockers theme for it.”

“Wow! But—but we’re flying home tomorrow. How are you going to do it?” I get a horrible sinking feeling at the prospect of Mum staying here and us all having Christmas at home without her.

“She’s said she’ll pay for us to all stay on longer—to have Christmas and New Year in New York. And they’ll pay for us to rearrange our flights too. These people are seriously rich, Pen, money’s no object to them.”

I stay rooted to the spot as I try to process the news. “We’re going to stay here for Christmas?”

Mum nods. “Yes. I’ve called your dad and he’s fine about it.”

As soon as I start feeling excited, my brain instantly starts searching for reasons why this can’t possibly happen—why it has to be too good to be true. “But what about Tom? And what about Elliot?”

“Elliot can stay too,” Mum says with a smile. “Well, hopefully he can; I’ll need to call his parents. And Tom will be fine. He texted me this morning asking if he can spend Christmas with Melanie and her family.”

I’m now so excited I feel like dancing the conga all the way through the dining room. I don’t, though, because there are way too many trip hazards.

I’ll be spending Christmas and New Year in New York. I’ll be able to see Noah. My life cannot possibly get any better.

“And Sadie Lee has invited us to spend Christmas with her, at her home in Brooklyn,” Mum says, instantly proving me wrong. My life can and did just get a trillion times better.

Elliot and Dad join us for the evening reception. Elliot looks amazing in a vintage suit and cravat. I look down at my servant’s attire and sigh. It’s hardly what I’d have chosen to see Noah in—I feel so dowdy, but at least I look in character. We all gather around as Cindy and Jim start their first dance together as husband and wife. Cindy has changed into a stunning twenties flapper dress. It’s made of shimmering silver-blue satin, which changes color in the twinkling lights like a moonstone. As I watch the band play the opening chords of “Unchained Melody,” my skin tingles as I think back to yesterday, when I first spotted Noah sitting on that same stage in the dark. It’s only three hours till midnight now. As I glance at the ornate clock on the wall, I feel even more like Cinderella—only in my case I’m looking forward to midnight, rather than dreading it.

“Penny, why haven’t you gotten changed?” Mum whispers in my ear.

I turn to face her. “What do you mean? Into what?”

Mum frowns. “I thought I told you about the dress. Didn’t I tell you abut the dress?”

I look at her blankly.

“Oh my goodness! I must have been so busy I completely forgot.” Mum grabs my arm.

“Downstairs, in my room, there’s a dress for you.”

“What kind of dress?”

Mum smiles. “You’ll see.”

“But don’t I have to stay in theme?”

“You will be.” Mum’s smile gets increasingly mysterious and she passes me her key card.

“OK then.”

I turn to go—and quickly snap a picture of one of the flower girls crawling under a table, clutching a chicken leg.

As soon as I walk into Mum and Dad’s room, I start to laugh. Dad’s side of the room is practically empty, apart from a copy of a sports biography on his bedside table and his suitcase placed neatly against the wall. Mum’s side looks like a tornado has hit it—a clothes and cosmetics tornado. I pick my way through the chaos and go over to the bed.

There, laid out on top of the covers, is a beautiful flapper dress. It’s made from emerald-green silk, with a beautiful fringe of silver beads around the bottom. There’s a matching beaded headband lying on the bed next to it and a pair of black Mary Jane shoes. I can’t believe that’s really for me, but there’s a note on the hanger marked: FOR PENNY.

I’m so excited I can barely breathe. But then, of course, my good old inner voice starts going to town. What if it doesn’t fit you? What if it looks stupid on you? However, as I pick up the dress, I can’t imagine it looking stupid on anyone. I wriggle out of my starchy servant’s outfit and pull the dress over my head. The material feels so soft it gives me goose bumps as it brushes against my skin. I actually gasp out loud when I see my reflection in the full-length mirror. The dress fits me perfectly and makes me look so grown-up and so—well, so interesting, like an old movie star. I put on the shoes and then look at my hair. I’d tied it up in a bun for my servant look but it’s not really working with the dress.

I shake it loose and grab a brush from Mum’s dressing table. Once I’ve got it under control, I plait both sides and pull them up into a milkmaid braid. Then I place the headband on top. Finally, I sit down at Mum’s dressing table and put on some liquid eyeliner and some more mascara. A quick dusting of powder and a squirt of perfume and I’m finished. I go over to the full-length mirror for a final check.

I suddenly get a flashback to the day I was getting ready to go and meet Ollie, and how nervous and unsure I’d felt. Now I look at myself and I can’t stop grinning. It’s hard to believe that was only a week ago—it feels like a whole lifetime. And I feel like a whole new person. I put on the shoes, pick up my bag, and head for the door.