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“In your dreams,” said Jules.
“Aw, come on,” said Cass. “Please? We’ve got to practice. And it’s really not that bad, promise. It comes off in a few days, it’s not permanent.”
“Eugh,” said Jules, getting up off the couch. “Fine then. But it’d better not take too long, I’ve got another piano lesson.”
“Not giving up, I like it,” Amelia said.
Jules bared her teeth and growled at her sister, then remembered that she had something much more important to tell her about said piano lessons. “I completely forgot,” she said as she stripped off her t-shirt and kicked off her sweatpants. “You’ll never guess who my piano teacher is.” She stood in her knickers and bra.
“Those come off too,” said Amelia. She held up a pair of paper pants. “These go on.”
“Piss off,” said Jules.
“No, really,” Cass said. “Otherwise your undies will get stained.”
“We’ve seen boobs before,” Amelia put in.
“Saw loads of them yesterday at the course,” added Cass.
“Turn around,” Jules demanded, snatching the paper pants from her sister.
“And what color would madame desire today?” Cass asked as Jules stripped fully.
“How am I supposed to know?” Jules said. “Whatever you like, you’re supposed to be the professionals, after all.”
“And who is your piano teacher?” asked Amelia.
“Billie Brooke,” Jules said, holding onto the paper knickers with one hand and putting one arm over her boobs. “I’m done.”
“Billie Brooke?” Amelia said, turning around. “That snotty little article? Honestly, I can’t think of anyone more deserving of a slap.”
“Always thought she was better than anyone else, did Billie Brooke,” Cass said, moving the tent structure a little.
“Just because she lived in a nice house and could play the stupid violin.”
“She never did PE,” Cass said as though it was a personal affront. “They said she couldn’t risk her breaking her fingers.”
“Maybe she was just lonely,” said Jules, feeling the inexplicable need to defend the woman.
“Oh please,” Amelia said. “We’re not witches. We tried. But she was always too busy. She never wanted to come out to the corn field, she never came to birthday parties when invited, she was too cool for school.”
“Too busy trying to get famous,” Cass said. “We had to write an essay in English once about what the future was going to be like and hers was all about—”
“Wait, ‘when I’m a great violinist,’” Amelia said, shrieking with laughter.
“Which we heard about fifty times a day,” said Cass. “She started every other sentence with that.” She paused. “Still though, I suppose she can’t have amounted to that much, not if she’s back here and teaching piano lessons to little girls that like to tell lies.”
“I’m not a little girl,” said Jules.
“Did she seem like a famous violinist?” Cass asked.
“Um, not really,” admitted Jules.
“Get in the cabin then,” said Amelia, ushering Jules in. “You should be careful around her. She doesn’t care for anyone but herself.”
“Jesus, she’s teaching me to play the piano, I’m not marrying the woman,” Jules said as she shivered inside the black cabin.
“Right, right, because you’ll be busy being married to famous pub singer Alea,” Amelia said, fiddling with her spray bottle. “You ready, Cass?”
