Chapter 1
“You need to lose weight Rachel Ryland. It’s starting to affect your performance. You’re not as light on your feet anymore, and Simon is struggling to lift you. What I want to know is: what are you going to do about it? Huh?” The dance instructor, Mrs Turner, was well known to be a dragon. She took no prisoners. When she got on your case there was nowhere you could hide from her harsh comments.
Rachel studied her dainty feet bound up in their silky, pink ballet shoes. She couldn’t look Mrs Turner in the eye. She just wanted to get out of the dance studio and go home. Overnight it seemed as if her ballet career was over. Mrs Turner’s words were hurtful. And there was only one way Rachel knew how to ease the pain.
On the way to the railway station she stopped and bought a chocolate bar, a packet of chips, and a cola. She had hesitated, her hand hovering between the Coke Zero, and the sugary Coke she really craved. It was the only thing that would make her feel better right now. For her, junk food was comfort food – even though she knew it would only give a few minutes of pleasure. After that she would feel worse for giving in to her cravings. She would put on more weight. Soon she wouldn’t be able to fit into her leotard and tights.
As Rachel sat in the train on the way home she began to cry. Her heartache was deep and she felt all alone. She tried to forget about the ballet class and focus on the Life Sciences textbook that lay open on her lap. The Grade Elevens had a test the next day and she hadn’t started studying yet. But the words on the page were a blur through her tears.
“Do you want a tissue?”
Rachel looked up. The young woman sitting opposite her was smiling. She held out a packet of tissues.
“Thank you.” Rachel took one and blew her nose. “I can’t believe I’m crying. It’s really stupid.”
“It’s not stupid.” The woman had a sweet voice. She looked kind and friendly, and Rachel needed a friend right now. “Teenage years aren’t easy,” she added sympathetically.
Rachel wiped her eyes and managed a smile. She liked the way the young woman dressed: the denim skirt, fluffy white jersey, stockings and big black boots. They were all the fashion at the moment. She would buy them herself if only her mom would increase her allowance. The young woman had a pretty face. Her caramel skin was smooth and glowed with health. Rachel couldn’t help noticing how slim she was. She definitely didn’t have problems with her weight, she thought enviously.
On any other day Rachel would have accepted the tissue, thanked the woman, and gone on studying her textbook. But today she felt so wobbly and in need of comfort and the woman looked so friendly.
“I’m Amy, by the way,” the woman said, holding out her hand. “Do you want to tell me what’s upsetting you? I’m a good listener. Try me.”
Rachel found herself telling Amy the whole story. Once she started she couldn’t stop; the words came spilling out like the tears that were spilling down her cheeks. Amy kept handing her more tissues. But she never interrupted her. She listened intently as Rachel described the past twelve years of her life as a ballet dancer. How she had started dancing aged five – her mother needed to leave her somewhere in the afternoon because she worked long hours as an accountant, and there were afternoon ballet classes at Rachel’s school. Ballet had been her life since then. It was all she had wanted to do. But now her dream of dancing in a professional dance company was over.
“My mom should never have started me on ballet,” Rachel sniffed. “She should have known that it would only lead to this. Now my life’s ruined.”
“Not ruined,” Amy said. “I’m sure your mom really loves you and only wants what’s best for you.”
“Or best for her,” Rachel grumbled.
“I wish my mom had let me do extra mural classes. I would have loved to have done ballet. But I never got the opportunity to do anything like that…”
Amy stared out of the window, her eyes full of sadness suddenly. Rachel wanted to say something that would make Amy feel better. She had been so kind to her, but the train was already pulling into Hatfield station. The time had flown.
Rachel stood up and stuffed her book into her bag. “I have to go. This is my stop,” she told Amy. But Amy was also standing up and putting on her jacket.
“Mine too,” Amy said. For a moment Rachel felt awkward. Then Amy laughed.
“Come on then, the doors are closing,” she said, taking Rachel’s hand so that they stepped onto the platform together. Rachel hesitated. She wanted to go on talking to Amy. Amy was right: she was a good listener. She didn’t interrupt or compete over who had the bigger problem, like Rachel’s friends did. Most of her friends couldn’t wait for her to stop talking so that they could start. They never really listened to her, she thought. Well, not like Amy had listened.
“It was good to meet you,” Amy said, giving her a hug. It seemed such a natural thing to do, even though they had only just met on the train. “And remember. Believe in yourself. Ballet dancing isn’t all there is to life. Don’t shed any more tears. Life is full of possibilities…”
Rachel felt grateful, and bewildered, as Amy said her final “goodbye and good luck”. She stood and watched as Amy walked away down the platform and disappeared under the subway.
It was only that evening, when she lay in bed and thought about the train journey, that Rachel realised that she didn’t know anything about Amy. Rachel had done all the talking. Amy had done all the listening. She didn’t know what Amy did for a living, where she worked, whether she was married or had a boyfriend. Why was she taking the train in the middle of the afternoon? Where was she going?
Rachel took the same train every Monday after ballet class but she had never seen Amy before, and she usually recognised all the people who took the same train as her and got off at Hatfield station.
Chapter 2
“Have you come up with an eating plan?”
Mrs Turner had called her over again, at the end of Thursday’s ballet class. It had been a nightmare. Rachel had fallen hard during a difficult turn and had to sit on the side and watch as Simon and Linda stared into each other’s eyes. He was the prince and she was the swan. They had danced like a dream together.
“You’re going to need to cut down on the carbs and eat more protein to build muscle, not flab. No more chocolates or fizzy drinks Rachel. You weren’t concentrating during class. Your mind was quite clearly somewhere else. You need to focus or you will injure yourself badly.”
She had injured herself badly. Her whole back felt bruised. But this obviously didn’t count as an injury to Mrs Turner. As the teacher reprimanded her, Rachel could hear the sniggers of the other girls in the class. She felt so humiliated. Everyone was listening.
One thing Rachel knew was that she would never give Mrs Turner the satisfaction of chucking her out of the class. No, she would quit before that happened. But quitting would mean leaving her friend, Simon. She admired Simon. He had guts. His friends had teased him for dancing. Boys who danced were ‘moffies’ they said. But Simon had refused to give it up. It was his passion, just as it had been hers. And now he had been offered what Rachel dreamed of: a place in a ballet company after Matric.
Rachel looked over to where he stood chatting to Linda in the corner of the studio. Linda had only started ballet two years ago, but her parents knew Mrs Turner and she got extra coaching for free. Mrs Turner had partnered Simon and Linda after Simon had struggled to lift Rachel. It was a cruel thing to do, Rachel thought. She watched now as they danced together. Soon Simon would forget all about her, he was so caught up with his new partner. And judging by the way Linda flirted with him, she was into Simon too.
It made Rachel feel sick when she saw Simon carrying Linda’s school bag for her after dance class and hanging on her every word. He didn’t even hear Rachel when she said goodbye. Of course Simon was interested in Linda, she told herself. Linda was skinny. She hadn’t put on weight. Mrs Turner had said that Simon had lifted Linda like she was a feather.
When she got on the train Rachel found that she was searching the carriage for Amy. But there was only a businessman working on his laptop. She was surprised at how disappointed she felt. She really needed someone to talk to about the class, and about Simon and Linda. She needed someone who was good at listening. Not her little sister Jasmine, who was only ten and chatted non-stop from the moment Rachel opened their front door. She was ten. What did she know about the struggles Rachel was going through? And Rachel’s mom and dad got back from work late and were always too tired to talk to her.
At Hatfield station Rachel picked up her ballet bag and the school rucksack that seemed heavier than usual. As she stepped off the train onto the platform she heard someone call her name. She turned around. There was Amy! Rachel couldn’t believe it. She felt like running up and hugging her.
“Hello you,” said Amy, as she walked towards her. She gave Rachel a hug, like they were old friends. “I missed my train. Do you feel like having coffee with me? I have time to kill and it would be so much more fun if I had someone nice to talk to. You can tell me how school and dance class went.”
Rachel hesitated, but only for a few seconds. She could ask Amy advice about Simon. It would be fun. She had loads of questions for her new friend. At the same time she knew what her mother would say: “Never. Talk. To. Strangers. Ever. Even if they seem nice.” But wasn’t that how you made friends? All her friends had been strangers before she got to know them. Even Simon had been a stranger once, she told herself.
“Don’t look so nervous. You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’m a big girl; I’ll be fine,” Amy laughed.
“No, no. I want to, I really want to,” Rachel said quickly. Simon might be spending more and more time with his new best friend and partner, Linda, but she was also making a new friend, and someone much more exciting. Amy was older, sophisticated and beautiful. And she wanted to be Rachel’s friend.
Rachel hadn’t even known there was a bar so close to the station – in fact just on the other side of the railway line. But then she had never even been under the subway before. She didn’t know what lay on the other side of the railway tracks.
Rachel could see that Amy was a regular at the bar, by the way the staff greeted her. She led Rachel to a cosy corner seat and ordered them both a cappuccino. Rachel felt good. She felt sophisticated and interesting. Her friends were drinking fizzy drinks and telling each other silly stories about crushes and stupid things that happened at school, while here she was sipping a cappuccino and being waited on and flattered by a good looking waiter.
“Two beautiful young women. It must be my lucky day,” he said, winking at them.
“So, no tears today?” Amy asked.
Rachel shook her head. She was about to tell Amy about Simon when Amy’s cellphone rang.
“I won’t be a moment,” she said, getting up and smiling reassuringly at Rachel.
Rachel watched Amy as she chatted animatedly to someone as she stood by the window, looking out onto the street. Was it her boyfriend who was making her laugh? Or a work colleague? Rachel decided that when Amy came back she would ask her all the questions that Amy had asked her, Rachel. It couldn’t just be one-way traffic. She needed to get to know her new friend.
But when Amy sat down and Rachel said, “Tell me about yourself,” it sounded much too formal. Amy shook her head and laughed.
“Really, you don’t want to know. It’s very dull. I’m much more interested in you,” she said. “Tell me about your family. What do your parents do? Have they got good jobs? Have you got siblings? Tell me everything.”
She had a way of being that made sharing with her easy. It felt cosy talking to her, like they had known each other forever and were catching up on news. Before she knew it Rachel was telling Amy about Simon and Linda and how difficult it was to watch them dance together. She paused when the waiter came. Amy ordered them drinks. When two alcoholic Spins arrived Rachel only hesitated for a moment before she took the first sip.
“How old are you?” Amy smiled.
“Seventeen. Eighteen in two months,” Rachel added quickly.
“Well then, you’re hardly underage. What’s a few months? Cheers. Let’s drink to a new friendship.”
They clinked their glasses together. It felt good. If only Simon could see them now. He didn’t know what he was missing, thought Rachel.
“Is your mother pretty like you?” Amy asked.
“I guess so…” said Rachel hesitantly. She had never thought of herself as pretty.
“Is she successful?”
“She’s an accountant.”
“Lucky her. She must earn good money. You’re a lucky girl.”
“I guess so…”
“It wasn’t like that for me…” That sad look passed across Amy’s face again. But she brightened up when the waiter came with another round of drinks. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back. I just need to freshen up my make-up.” She winked at Rachel.
Rachel checked her text messages while Amy was in the Ladies. She had four missed calls from her mom. She would have to get home soon.
When Amy came back she seemed to be in a very good mood. Her eyes were sparkling and she chatted excitedly.
“You’ve got a nice phone. Is it a Samsung Galaxy? Can I have a look?” Rachel passed it to Amy who was holding out her hand expectantly.
“I need to get back home, just now,” Rachel said, feeling light-headed, and nervous that her mother would find out that she had been drinking. If she drank any more she wasn’t sure she’d be able to walk home. It was getting dark outside.
“Don’t worry. I’ll drive you,” said Amy.
“You have a car?”
“Shouldn’t I? Oh, I know what you’re thinking. Why do I take the train? I park the car at the station. That way I don’t get caught in rush hour. A lot of us working women do that. It will be you soon…”
“If I pass Grade Eleven and then Matric,” said Rachel, feeling down again. “And now I won’t even be able to do the only thing I’m good at.”
“Don’t be so negative. You won’t get anywhere in life if you give up due to one small obstacle,” Amy said encouragingly. Then she started scrolling through Rachel’s photographs. “I bet you have some cool shots of your family and friends. Is this your dad?” Amy held up the phone. “He looks really nice. I like his smile. But he looks like he could be strict.”
They laughed. “You have no idea…” said Rachel. It felt good to show Amy her life. They were getting closer. This is what friends did.
“Here…” said Rachel, showing Amy a photo of Jasmine. But it was Rachel’s mom that Amy was really interested in. She stared at Mrs Ryland’s photo for a long, long time, and a range of emotions passed across her face. She stared so long that Rachel grew uneasy.
“Here,” she said, taking the phone back. “Look at our dogs. Aren’t they cute?” She flicked through to a photo of their two Maltese poodles.
“They look quite a handful,” said Amy, but she was distracted now. She had grown bored of photos and was looking around the bar, as if she was expecting someone. When she spoke to Rachel again it was like she was just going through the motions. Her voice was flat. She had lost her energy and interest.
“Was your ballet teacher as bad today?”
“No, worse,” said Rachel. “And this guy I have a crush on seems to be in love with someone else.”
“Oh dear.”
Rachel told Amy how she should have gone out with Simon when he had asked her a while ago. How it was a missed opportunity.
“And why did you say no before?” Amy asked, then stood up quickly and waved at someone. But the person turned around, and she stopped waving – it was obviously not who she had thought it was.
Rachel began to giggle. She was feeling really tipsy by now. “I was too shy! I get super shy around guys.”
“Oh, I was the same,” said Amy, suddenly focusing on Rachel again and giving her undivided attention. “But you’ve got to learn to wise up, else you’ll miss all the fun. Here: watch me. I’ll show you how it’s done.”
Amy got up and strolled towards the bar. She made her way to a young, handsome guy in a smart suit, who was sitting on one of the bar stools. Rachel hadn’t noticed him before, but perhaps she had been too busy chatting.
Amy went straight up to the guy, leaned down and whispered something in his ear. Then they both turned and looked at Rachel. The man walked across the floor towards her. He had dark blonde hair and a cute smile.
Chapter 3
“Gary here has come to join us. He thinks you’re cute,” Amy told Rachel, who was blushing. Gary had a dimpled smile. He was wearing a leather jacket and jeans. He looked so easy in his body, unlike the boys at school.
“I’d like to buy you a drink,” he said, smiling at Rachel. “Another Spin?”
“I guess so…”
“Don’t go anywhere,” Gary said, as he went to fetch the drinks.
“You see, it’s easy. You just have to be confident.” Amy rested her hand on Rachel’s knee and gave it a squeeze.
“And you don’t know him?” Rachel asked, impressed.
Amy didn’t answer, she just smiled.
“I would love to stay, but I really need to get home.” Rachel said, standing up as her phone buzzed again. She had another missed call from her mom.
“Relax. You can go after you’ve had Gary’s drink. You wouldn’t want to seem rude, would you? He’s been so generous. He’s paying you know.”
“OK, just one. Then I really must…”
“I said I’ll drive you home. No problem.”
Gary handed Rachel the drink and their fingers touched.
Rachel felt shy in front of Gary. She didn’t know what to say. She could definitely learn a thing or two from Amy she thought, about how to get and keep a man’s interest.
“Can you believe this beauty wants to quit ballet because she’s a little too curvy? She thinks her life is over. But ballet is not the only kind of dance there is, sweetheart. Am I right Gary?” Amy turned to Gary and flashed him her charming smile.
“Being a ballerina isn’t going to line your purse with notes, that’s for sure. And anyone who says skinny girls are where it’s at is crazy. Personally,” said Gary, leaning forward and resting his hand on Rachel’s knee, “I’ve always preferred women with curves. Who wants to look at a surfboard? There’s just nothing there.” He winked at Rachel. She felt warm and fuzzy inside, he was being so charming and kind.
“But if you want to hear a success story,” Gary went on, “speak to your friend Amy here. She can teach you a lot. Amy has built herself up out of nothing. She hasn’t had an easy life. She doesn’t have family backing and she’s been very close to the street at times. But that’s all behind her, isn’t it Amy?”
Amy nodded.
“If there’s anyone I know who’s proven themself, it’s Amy.” Amy sipped her drink and basked in the glow of all the compliments.
Rachel was confused. Hadn’t Amy made out that she didn’t know Gary? But from what Gary was saying it was obvious that they had known each other for a long time. However, Rachel was drunk now, and she started to doubt everything. She couldn’t remember the details anymore.
“Amy may soon be managing my nightclub. She knows the ins and outs of the whole business.”
Rachel excused herself to go to the toilet. She had an SMS from her mom.
Where r u? Call me. Now!
We r so worried.
There was a voicemail message as well:
“You better come home now Rachel. I mean it. What’s the point of you having that fancy phone if you’re not going to answer it? Get home. Now!”
Rachel sent her mother an SMS:
Dn’t worry. With a friend, on my way home.
“I know, you’ve got to go,” Amy said when Rachel came back. “Don’t worry, I have to leave too. Got to get back to work.” She laughed. “I’ll give you a lift.”
“You’ll have to come to my club. I’ll show you some real dancers. Perhaps you can audition. You can make some good money you know. Real money, not pocket money,” Gary said and winked at her. “A pretty girl like you! Why waste your time with ballet?”
Amy had a black Mercedes. Or perhaps it was Gary’s. Rachel wasn’t sure of anything anymore. Her head was spinning. Amy drove fast and well.
“I presume this is the right place,” Amy announced, as she turned a corner and pulled up outside Rachel’s house.
“GPS,” she said in response to Rachel’s astonished expression. Rachel was sure she hadn’t told Amy the street address. But Amy seemed to know her way around.
“Mmm, nice house,” murmured Amy. “I wish I’d grown up in such a nice house.”
Rachel quickly got out of the car. She didn’t want her mom coming out and seeing her with a complete stranger.
“Don’t you want my number?” Amy asked. “Remember, we’ve got a date with Gary to go to his club. If you want to. No pressure.”
She handed Rachel a piece of paper with her cellphone number written on it.
As Rachel walked through the front door her mom was waiting for her. Mrs Ryland grabbed her and smelled her breath before Rachel could make it to the bathroom to rinse her mouth. Mrs Ryland was angry.
“Is this how you spent your afternoon? Drinking!? Were you with boys?”
“No. I was with someone from ballet!”
“Who, Rachel?”
“Just a friend,” said Rachel. “She’s new,” she lied. “She’s really kind, and she was helping me after Mrs Turner gave me a hard time about my body.”
“Did she buy you a drink?”
Rachel was silent.
“If you need moral support, talk to the school guidance teacher, talk to your school friends, talk to me – but not to someone you don’t know.”
“But I do know her now.”
“You didn’t meet her at ballet, did you? Why are you lying?”
“I thought you’d be angry.”
“I am Rachel. But it’s for your own protection. You should never go with strangers. Where did you meet her?”
“On the train.”
“The train! You aren’t to speak to her again, you hear me?”
“Don’t be so strict Mom.”
Jasmine stuck her tongue out at Rachel. She seemed to enjoy it when her big sister got into trouble. Her mother carried on, “I wish my own mother had been stricter with me when I was your age. I might not have made some mistakes that cost me dearly.”
“What mistakes, Mommy?” said Jasmine.
“Some things that I regret deeply, but I can’t change today.”
“But, what did you do Mommy?”
“One day, when the time is right, I’ll tell you all about it.” The subject was closed, but Mrs Ryland still wanted to know something from Rachel.
“Does this new friend have a name?”
“Amy.”
Rachel’s mom frowned, then she shook her head as if she was getting rid of a bad memory. Then she recovered. “Well, you are never to speak to this Amy again. Agreed?”
Rachel nodded, but her hand closed over the paper with Amy’s name on it, safely in her pocket.
Chapter 4
“I just can’t wait for all of it to be over. I hate dancing now. I used to love it, but I’m going to quit. In fact I’m going to skip ballet class today.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” asked Rachel’s friend Precious. But Precious didn’t understand. She wasn’t a dancer. It was no use talking to her.
“You can’t just quit,” said Linda, running up. She had overheard Rachel. “You just need to lose the weight. I’ve got a really good diet my aunt went on. I can photocopy it for you.”
“No thanks,” snapped Rachel. She didn’t want Linda’s help. She wanted Linda to vanish into thin air.
“Linda’s right.” Simon had come up to join them. These days wherever Linda was, you would find Simon a few steps behind.
Rachel looked at Linda and Simon. The sight made her feel ill. Their fake concern and advice about dieting was hurtful. Linda had never been on a diet in her life! And Simon, who was meant to be her friend and take her side, was now echoing everything Linda said.
Rachel hurried away from them, feeling hot tears pricking her eyes.
In the toilets she fished in her pocket for Amy’s number. She entered it into her phone contact’s list. Amy would understand. She could call her. But just then the bell rang and she had to go back to class. She would find a time later, at home, to call her new friend.
After school Rachel saw Simon standing alone waiting for the taxi. He smiled at her. Perhaps he did still want to be friends? She thought of Amy, and how she handled guys with confidence. What had she said? “Give them a little bit, but not too much at a time. Keep them keen…”
She walked over to where Simon was waiting for the taxi. “Hi there!” said Rachel, casually.
“Hey, are you going to the end of term party?” Simon replied, smiling.
“Maybe… if I find the right guy to go with. He will have to be good looking and interesting. Most of the guys in my class are boring.” Simon’s taxi pulled up alongside them. “Well, see you around…” Rachel said and began to walk away. She was pleased with herself. She was glad the school day had ended like this and Simon had seen her confident, not running away in tears like earlier. She had Amy to thank for that.
She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around. “Hey Rachel, would you like to come with me to a party this weekend? That’s if I’m good looking enough and not boring.” Simon had run after her.
Rachel wanted to ask Simon if it was because Linda had another date. But she stopped herself.
“I’ll let you know,” she said.
When she got home she couldn’t wait to tell Amy that her advice had worked. But Jasmine was trailing around the house. Eventually she got rid of her, telling her sister that she had a school assignment. She logged onto her computer. But instead of going to her project she Googled Facebook and logged in.
A face and message popped up on her screen. “Friend request: Amy Janson.”
Rachel stared. Amy looked so glamorous in the photograph. She wore red lipstick and her dark hair was styled up so that it looked sleek and sophisticated. She was wearing a low-cut black dress. She didn’t look like the casual Amy she had chatted to on the train and in the bar, the Amy in jeans and a cool top. This was another woman altogether. But then Rachel thought of her friends who made themselves look older for their Facebook photos, often posing provocatively too.
Rachel accepted Amy’s friend request. Immediately a green light lit up next to Amy’s name. She was on chat. They didn’t need the train now to chat. She could do it anytime from her computer. This was great.
Hey
Hey there
Guess what?
What?
I spoke to my crush. I took your advice. It worked. He invited me on a date.
That’s great. Proud of you. We’ll chat again later. Gotta get back to work.
OK cool.
Rachel nearly typed: ‘Can’t wait,’ but decided this was too eager. Then another message from Amy popped up.
Hey I see your mom is one of your FB friends? Amy added a smiley face.
Ugh, embarrassing! I know. She’s like Big Brother… watching me.
Gotta go.
Just then Jasmine ran into Rachel’s room. Rachel quickly closed down Facebook.
“Who are you chatting to?” asked Jasmine.
“Mind your own business!” Rachel snapped at her little sister.
“I bet it’s your new friend,” said Jasmine. “Wait until Mom finds out. I know what your password is.”
Chapter 5
Every time Rachel logged on to Facebook for the rest of the week she checked to see if Amy was on chat. But Amy was never on Facebook when Rachel was. And she didn’t send any messages either. Rachel told herself that if by Friday Amy hadn’t sent a message, she would send her one.
The party was on Saturday night and Rachel really needed some more tips on how to make sure her date with Simon was unforgettable. She had never had a boyfriend before. She didn’t want to mess it up – not with Linda waiting in the wings. This was her one chance. How great it would be to steal Simon from under Linda’s nose!
On Friday at break time Rachel decided to call Amy. The phone went straight to voicemail. But the voicemail message was so strange that Rachel called it again, and listened intently:
“You’ve reached Amy Amore for your amusement. What more could you ask for? Leave a message after the beep.”
Rachel was baffled, and she didn’t leave a message. But then, she thought, she had heard weirder messages before on her school friends’ phones.
Later, as she was waiting with a group of girls for their taxi, Rachel spotted Simon and Linda. They were chatting. Rachel felt hurt. What was Simon doing with Linda when he had asked her to the dance? Was it a joke at her expense?
Just then a big black Mercedes C55 pulled up. The boys who were waiting for the taxis whistled. The car had black tinted windows. The door opened and there was Amy standing on the pavement. There were more wolf whistles. Amy seemed to enjoy the boys staring.
“Aren’t you coming?” Amy walked over to Rachel and took her school bag. Rachel couldn’t believe it. She was speechless when Amy led her to the car. Gary stepped out of the driver’s seat and opened the door for her. Everyone stared in awe as she got into the back seat of the Merc and they sped off.
Inside the car was like another luxurious world – a world of soft black leather and sexy music.
“We’ve bought you something really special,” Amy said, turning to smile at Rachel. She looked excited. “It’s a fabulous dress for your date. You deserve the first date of your dreams.” Amy turned around in the passenger seat to smile at Rachel. Rachel felt like a celebrity, being escorted away from school by her new friend. It really was like a dream come true.
“Don’t worry, we’ll take you home afterwards. We’re heading to Gary’s penthouse in Sandton where you can try it on. Shoes too. I can’t wait for you to see the outfit.” Amy winked at Rachel. “I want you to have the first date that I never had,” she said. “My mother didn’t see why I needed special clothes. She didn’t let me go on dates either.” Amy’s tone wasn’t sad; it was bitter when she said those words.
“Where is your mother now?” asked Rachel. She wanted to make it better for Amy in some way. Amy had been so kind to her.
“That depends…” answered Amy.
“Amy was adopted,” said Gary.
“My adoptive mother is with her third husband and their real children.” Amy paused. “She’s forgotten about me, and I don’t care about her. My real mother, well, I’ve never met her. Not yet. So she’s going to make up for all those years of hardship, that’s for sure…” Amy looked at herself in the rear view mirror and put on fresh lipstick. “But let’s not talk about all that. We are going to have a good time.”
“You deserve it,” said Gary and pinched her cheek affectionately. They pulled into the driveway of a mansion. Rachel hadn’t noticed where they were driving. She had no idea where they were, only that this was a rich neighbourhood
Inside Gary’s lounge Amy plonked herself down on the elegant black leather couch and Gary went behind the bar to mix surprise cocktails for ‘you girls’, as he called her and Rachel.
“The best way to know how to act around boys, is to practise with men. You’ve got to come with us to the Club this afternoon to meet some men and practise chatting and flirting! Gary’s club is really the best place to do it,” enthused Amy.
Gary handed them their pretty cocktails – they even had little decorative paper umbrellas and mint leaves and ice. Rachel felt so grown up. She was happy, she had a date, and life suddenly seemed very rosy. It was even rosier after the cocktail.
“With you I feel more confident,” said Rachel. “I feel I could do anything. It’s just…”
“Just?”
“When you’re not around that confidence disappears and I’m just shy, boring Rachel again.”
“You could never be boring,” said Gary. He was emptying a small packet with white powder onto the glass table top. He took his bank card and started cutting the powder into thin lines.
Rachel knew what it was. A woman from the drug counselling centre had visited their school. She had a briefcase full of examples of different kinds of drugs. She showed them charts as to what the drugs did to your brain.
“Want some?” Gary asked casually. Rachel shook her head.
“It will wear off before you know it,” Gary said.
“Perhaps she’s not ready,” said Amy. “And that’s fine. Different strokes for different folks.”
Rachel was relieved. Amy was being so nice. She understood.
“She doesn’t know what she’s missing,” laughed Gary. “Hey, why don’t you go and try your dress on? It’s the first door on the left.”
The dress was laid out on a double bed. Amy stared at it. It was stunning. There was a pair of stilettos too. When she put the dress on and looked at herself in the mirror she couldn’t believe the transformation. It fitted her perfectly. How had Amy known her measurements? She felt like a million dollars, like she could be anyone she wanted, and do anything. The dress was platinum silver with sequins and fine red beadwork on the front. It had a sexy split down the side.
She was about to go out and show Gary and Amy when she heard raised voices from the lounge. Angry voices.
They sounded like two different people, not the Amy and Gary Rachel knew. Perhaps it was the drugs that made Gary shout like that. Rachel sat down on the bed. She suddenly felt out of her depth. What if they were arguing about her? What if Gary hadn’t wanted to buy the dress for her? Maybe Amy wanted the dress for herself.
She decided to wait until they had stopped arguing. She recognised Amy’s fluffy white jersey. It was lying on the floor at the foot of the bed. There was a notepad on the bedside table.
Rachel picked the notepad up. There was a list of telephone numbers. All with initials and her surname next to them: Rylands. Street addresses too. All of them were crossed out with a red pen, except for one: Ryland P, 62 Festival Street. Rachel’s address. Next to this was Rachel’s mother’s name: Patricia. It had been underlined three times. Rachel’s school’s name was also there, and the time that school came out, as well as Rachel’s ballet schedule.
Rachel frowned. Amy was calling her now. Her voice had changed, the anger had disappeared. She heard Gary laughing. The storm that had suddenly erupted had died down just as quickly.
Rachel went out in her dress.
“It’s gorgeous,” said Gary. “I am proud to show you around the club. Let’s go. The first after-work customers will be there. ”
“How are you feeling?” asked Amy.
“Good,” said Rachel uncertainly. Suddenly she seemed way out of her depth. And the feeling only deepened as she was led inside the club.
Chapter 6
The music was pumping and Amy introduced Rachel to one guy after the other. They all seemed to like her and want to buy her drinks.
“Now, why would you want to go on a date with a high school boy when you could easily have one of these men and live the high life!?” Amy laughed.
“This is definitely the high life,” said Rachel. After a few drinks she had relaxed and was beginning to enjoy herself. If Simon and Linda could see her now, mingling with these beautiful people.
“How are my favourite girls doing?” Gary sauntered over from the bar, carrying shots of tequila. Rachel watched the way Amy downed hers. But Amy wasn’t smiling anymore. She was glaring at the girl on Gary’s arm. And then it got ugly.
Amy said something to the girl. The girl pulled at Amy’s hair. Amy hit her across the face.
“Easy now,” said Gary, and quickly led Rachel away.
“Girls!” he laughed. Rachel looked back over his shoulder. This was a different Amy she saw. Now she had smashed a glass. Rachel barely recognised her.
“She’ll calm down soon. Don’t worry. It’s the cocaine. Sometimes it makes her aggressive. It’s good in bed, but not in public.” He laughed. “Come. I want to show you something.”..