Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend Read Free Page A

know.
     
     
     
    My dad called me in later that evening, after Gail had gone home.
     
    ‘I’m sorry about that,’ he said. ‘It was spur of the moment. We were passing, and I thought . . .’
     
    I stared at him. Thought what? That I’d like to meet . . . well, it had just never occurred to me that dad would find someone else. It had been only two years. He had me!
     
    Daddy put out his arms. ‘She’s a lovely girl, Sophia. You want me to be happy, don’t you?’
     
    Of course I did, and I was too scared to tell him how I felt in case I upset him. But inside I was as furious and mixed up and jealous as I’d ever been in my entire life. Someone had taken my mum, but no one was having my dad!
     
     
     
    Soon, my life was a weekly soap opera for my schoolmates as Gail tried her best to be friends with me. The ruder I was to Gail, the more popular I got at school. EastEnders had nothing on me.
     
    She did try, she really did. There were ‘family’ outings, treats and special trips. I sulked through them all like only a thirteen-year-old girl can. If they had made passive-aggressive stropping about an Olympic sport, I’d have been a shoo-in, with a good shot at heavy sighing, door-banging and the sour-faced triple jump.
     
    So, of course, the inevitable happened.
     
    It was one Friday afternoon, I’d gone home after school to pick up some clothes and money en route to spending the weekend at Carena’s. I loved my dad’s study. It always smelled differently to the rest of the house - my mother had never spent any time in there, so it didn’t have the faint scent of her perfume (Miss Dior) which permeated the rest of the house and which I still can’t smell without feeling that someone’s just given me a swift punch to the back of the neck.
     
    ‘Sweetheart, could you come in and have a word?’ Dad said. I looked round, hoping he hadn’t had my latest report. My huge excuse for bad marks was starting to look less impressive this far down the line.
     
    He looked nervous. Well, good. Nervous was better than annoyed with me.
     
    ‘Sophia . . .’ He looked at his hands. ‘Look, I was thinking . . . I was thinking of asking Gail to marry me.’
     
    Oh God. All my worst nightmares were coming true. I didn’t even have the presence of mind to strop out, make a fuss or yell. I stood there, frozen, as my eyes filled with tears.
     
    ‘Sophia, it’s OK!’ He reached out his arms as if to give me a cuddle, but I was stuck to the spot. Then he sighed.
     
    ‘This isn’t about your inheritance, is it?’ he said gently. ‘You know I’ll always look after you.’
     
    That thought had never even crossed my mind. Everyone at school had money. The topic just never came up.
     
    I was petrified that I would lose my father. Oh, even for a thirteen-year-old, I was self-obsessed. I just stood in that study and let the tears drip down my face, so he could see them.
     
    And now, here I am on a beach, so much later, thinking, am I happy?
     
    Anyway, let me just say that I definitely, definitely, definitely got my comeuppance. Let me tell you exactly what happened.
     

Part Two
     
    Then
     

Chapter Three
     
    We were at Toa, a trendy new restaurant in London. Carena, Philly and me cared a lot about what was hot. Philly had got a job doing PR for bars and restaurants, which was great because she got us into every party and restaurant going. We were all still friends, amazingly. Carena’s air of casual superiority had meant she was still exciting to be with, and since my dad had got married he’d given me loads more freedom - easier than trying to get me to sit down and be polite to Gail.
     
    Carena was still really gorgeous - incredibly thin, long legs and long blonde hair. She had a pout to rival Angelina Jolie’s, and she had plucked her eyebrows into really high glossy arches which made her look surprised all the time. She said men liked a look of surprise because it’s the expression they want you