Posh and Prejudice Read Free Page A

eyebrows, which she plucks into proper thin arches these
     days.
    Carrie has been really experimenting with her look ever since she got this book for Christmas called
Butterz to Babe in Thirty Days!
by this girl called Tabitha Tennant from Dagenham who got kicked out of
Big Brother
for cheating but now runs a beauty academy in Covent Garden in London. Tabitha is Carrie’s heroine. Tabitha is the woman
     who started off the “cupid-bow” lips trend this summer where you paint your lipstick on in hot pink in dramatic arches like
     a doll. Carrie does that a lot at the moment.
    So I take off my gloves and come through and right enough there’s Carrie all made up, cupid-bow lips, two tone eye shadow,
     wearing a stripy off-the-shoulder top with a pink bra strap showing and jeans and big hoops looking like she’s off to a club
     in Romford to see DJ Platinum. She looks at me and pulls a proper annoyed face and goes, “Shizza, are you mental or something?”
    And I’m like, “What?” and she’s like, “You were supposed to be taking this morning off! I been calling your phone since 8 AM ? Why you not showing me no love?”
    So I go, “I’ve been frying eggs, you clown, I’m at work.”
    Carrie laughs and says, “I know you’re at work, but you’re supposed to be picking up your GCSE results!” and suddenly I remember
     and I feel all sick and proper anxious again just like when I finished the English exam and looked back through all that crap
     I’d scribbled about the dolphins.
    “Oh God, yeah,” I said to her. “I’ve been blocking it out mentally.” Carrie just shook her head and sighed.
    “Oh come on, Shiz,” she said quite impatiently. “I wanna know what we got.”
    “But I’m busy,” I mumbled, “I’m bleaching cups.”
    “Mmm… yeah, whatever,” said Carrie. “Leave it to me.”
    Then Carrie wandered over to Mario who was sitting in the corner studying the racing section of the
Sun
with a pen in his mouth.
    “Mr. Yolk?” Carrie said, making her voice even softer and tilting her head to the side. “Mario?”
    “What you want, sweetheart?” he said.
    “Mario? Is it OK if I borrow Shizza for a while? She has a doctor’s appointment that she’s clean forgotten about. I said I’d
     go with her… for moral support…” Carrie was doing a loud whisper now, “Shiraz is a bit EMBARRASSED to ask you, y’know? It’s
     one of those
downstairs
things.”
    Carrie pointed in the region of her thong.
    “Downstairs?” said Mario, then his face proper crumpled, “Oh… Go! You women and your bits. It never end. I have enough of
     you. You got an hour. Then Shirelle she come back and do lunch busy time. Go!”
    I grabbed my pink hoodie and pulled it on over my apron and we skipped out of the door.
    “I can’t bloody believe that always works,” I said to Carrie.
    “I know, why do men always fall for that?” Carrie laughed. “That Mr. Cleaver who did gym at Mayflower actually thought I was
     on the blob four times a month.” We both laughed well loud then ’cos just the thought of it was bare jokes.
    Me and Carrie got the bus down to Mayflower Academy, listening to the new Dizzee Rascal on her Nokia and eating Whoppers which
     to be honest felt like stones in my gob ’cos I was feeling proper nervous. When we got to school we had to go to the brand
     new assembly hall which had just been re-opened after the fire at Christmas. We got in the line for our results. Everywhere
     you looked there was all my old year with cells clamped to their ears, holding brown envelopes. Sean Burton was there dancing
     about waving his envelope in the air making a squeaky sound which didn’t actually mean he’d passed or nothing ’cos he’s proper
     flamboyant at the best of times. Kezia Marshall was sitting on a seat with her envelope resting on her bump looking at her
     result slip looking proper sad.
    “’Ere, Shiraz, did you see Luther on your way here?” she shouted, and I shrugged and said