The Sweet Life Read Free

was looking down the barrel of an all-expenses-paid trip to Rome, everyone was genuinely happy for her, especially after the year she’d had. All year, people had discreetly looked the other way when the strain of her mum’s illness had caused her to have the occasional minor meltdown.
    Within a few hours, Gabs’s dad had verified Celia Albright’s identity and position as Second Secretary at the Australian Embassy in Rome. Arrangements were made for Janey to make her first ever overseas trip, fully paid for by her new aunt. Mr Epstein had also told Janey that she’d have a debit card linked to the modest sum of money her mum had left her. He lectured her about sticking to a budget and not blowing the entire amount on a two-week holiday. Janey’s eyes had filled as she nodded, knowing how hard her mum had worked to save that money.
    ‘I’m sooooo jealous!’ said Em over lunch on the second-last day of term. ‘Italy’s totally the land of La Dolce Vita , Janes. Long lunches, fabulous coffee, gorgeous monuments, even more gorgeous guys. I can’t believe you’re getting a second summer in the Eternal City while we suffer through a boring winter without you! And your minestrone. It’s too cruel.’
    ‘ La Dolce what?’ Janey wrinkled her freckly nose.
    ‘The Sweet Life,’ said Em. ‘It’s, like, only the most famous film Federico Fellini – just about Italy’s most famous film director – ever made. And it’s set in Rome. I can’t believe you haven’t heard of it. Fellini practically invented the word paparazzi . Watch it before you go, you philistine.’
    ‘Never heard of him, Em, you know-it-all,’ Ness interrupted. ‘Now on to more important things, Janey. Like getting you holiday-ready and fabulous before you leave. My place, after school, no excuses. I’ve got some looks for you to try out.’
    Janey and Ness were both tall and willowy, with legs to die for. And there the similarity ended – Ness was a green-eyed blonde stunner and styling genius, who looked a million bucks on a teeny budget, while Janey was, well, just Janey. She always looked perfectly okay in her hoodies, jeans and high-tops. But it was generally acknowledged that Janey Gordon, with her cloud of untamable, fluffy red-gold hair and habit of tripping over her own size ten feet, would never set the fashion world on fire. Plus, Ness ate like a sparrow, while saying that Janey loved her food was a massive understatement.
    Gabs rolled her eyes and groaned. ‘You and your looks , Vanessa McAdams! Like that time you said green glitter eye shadow, an oversized cable sweater and black leggings were a really good match for someone with my hair and build!’
    ‘And the time you insisted I buy that atrocious silver tulip-skirted bandeau dress that made me look ten times shorter than I already am,’ snorted Em. ‘I looked like a flowerpot man, only upside down.’
    ‘You both looked perfectly on trend!’ exclaimed Ness in hurt tones.
    Her three friends giggled.
    ‘Yeah, for someone built like Kate Moss!’ said Gabs. ‘Whereas I am built along more Roman lines.’
    ‘Which brings us back to the urgent issue of your holiday wardrobe,’ said Ness, turning to Janey. ‘I’ve always said that you’d knock ’em dead if you’d just let me style you!’
    Janey sighed. Usually she just zoned out when Ness launched into the subject of fashion, but for some strange reason it was suddenly really important to her that she make a good impression on her new aunt and cousin. She wanted to fly the flag for her beautiful mum, Lydia, and if that meant a bit of fashion torture, well, maybe it was worth it. Just this once.
    ‘I don’t even wear make-up, Ness,’ she said. ‘Never got the hang of it. And I just can’t speak that whole flash-fash lingo of yours. Let’s face it, I’ve got zero girly style.’
    ‘You’ve got really good skin,’ Ness replied.
    Janey looked dubious.
    ‘Seriously! And you should never underestimate a good