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‘Of course,amiga.’
‘Really?!’
‘Look, I’m not going to pretend this is my kind of thing. It looks a little … hmmm. But you’re my girl. I know you want to see this guy and I want to see you get over this guy; so we can go. I can plan some outfits for us, we’ll spend some quality time …’
‘We’re also probably going to have to camp, they only have those tree tent things left …’
‘I have camped beforeHelen,’ irritability flared into Elle’s voice. ‘Look, the point is it may be shit, but we’re friends. We don’t just always do fun things together, you know? We’re friends that can call each other when we need help. We do things together …’
‘Elle, you’ve never once needed help.’
‘I have love, you just don’t remember. When I met you girls, I’d just moved to London. You were my first friends, you put it out of your mind that at that time I didn’t speak the best English, or have the best job …’
‘Just look where you are now! You’re basically famous. Famous for being hot and cool on Instagram. It’s the dream job!’
‘I know … But the facts are, we go back to a time before any of that. You were there for me, and I’m still hereamiga. You can count on me.’
‘Thank you so so much, Elle …’
‘Stop thanking me, geez this is just what friends do. Real friends. Now hang up and send me your outfits.’
Chapter 26
‘Morning,amiga…’
Elle’s ‘beauty sleep’ eye mask was pulled halfway up her face, as she sat cross-legged in a camp bed on Helen’s childhood bedroom floor. They’d actually made it. Helen had bought festival tickets, they’d booked a train and Elle had given plenty of ‘constructive’ advice on Helen’s outfits. Now they were camped out at Helen’s house in deep festival-prep mode.
It was like Helen was sixteen again, inviting one of the popular girls at school over for a friendship-affirming sleepover. The kind where they’d eat Häagen-Dazs, watchAmerican Piemovies, rate the boys in their school year by who was the best kisser, and who (by rumour alone) had the biggest …
They’d travelled down together on the train yesterday and for once the journey to Cornwall wasn’t dotted with memories of the break-up with Jonathan, and eating bags of Maltesers not recognising the taste after the first bite. Elle had bought them take out sushi and iced almond lattes at Paddington; she’d also insisted they travel first class as the tickets were only £30 more expensive, and, well, Elle didn’t really do coach. As the train slipped out of the station, Helen looked once more at the spot where she’d seen Brody, where her feet had been planted to the floor, perhaps he’d sat in this same carriage …
‘Babe, smile, come on, we’re going on a holiday!’ Elle slung her legs over the side of the seat. ‘Would you like to eat? I’ve got cupcakes too? Help me with these?’ Elle pushed a tray of iced synthetic looking cakes towards Helen. ‘And can you take a picture of me holding one in this seat?’
Considering the ask of Elle to drop everything to go to a festival with her, Helen could forgive being her unofficial photographer.
Elle had regaled Helen the whole journey down with tales of her recent dates: a hot twenty-five-year-old Abercrombie model (‘I really gotta stop choosing these younger guys, but the … wow’), a doctor who had taken her to brunch at The Ned, (‘He’s smart, I’ll see how it goes …’) and a rapper who had noticed her at a party (‘I don’t take him too seriously, you know?’)
Helen was in fits of schoolgirl giggles as they met her family at the station, they probably didn’t know what had gotten into her. This was obviously how single life was supposed to be though. Single life wasn’t meant to be a monochrome silent movie of falling into your pillow crying, or running after a man who turned, shook his head and walked away. It should be like Elle’s life: full fat and technicolour. A joyous ensemble of interesting characters, amazing sex, last-minute vacations and …
‘Dude friendship is so important, for real. I am so excited to spend some time with your family today and finalise our outfits.’ Elle was shaking her hair out of a ponytail. ‘We also really need to braid our hair today.’
‘Braid our hair?’
‘Babe, haven’t you read the website? They have like three showers there, let’s be real here, they are going to benastyafter day one. We braid our hair and take dry shampoo.’ Elle let herself flop back on the bed. ‘You know, I’m actually getting quite excited for this!’
‘You’re not nervous?’ Helen pulled her My Little Pony duvet a little closer, she’d given Elle the more ‘mature’ lilac one with stars on it.
‘No babe and you don’t need to be either. Remember, if we see Brody, cool, if not we still have fun okay?’ Elle offered her pinkie finger up to Helen. Helen interlocked hers with Elle. ‘I promise.’
Her mum was downstairs making a special ‘we have a visitor’ breakfast for them. Helen loved her mum, but she was easily impressed by things like Elle’s huge Instagram following, ‘well she really is quite famous, isn’t she?’ She could imagine her mum mining Elle for details on which fashion blog she’d recently done an interview with, then chirpily reporting (and embellishing) these details back to her friends at the tennis club, despite no one there really knowing what Instagram was.
When they’d arrived yesterday, her mum had hugged Elle with surprising warmth; she seemed genuinely happy that Helen had brought someone home, even if it came in the shape of a good friend rather than a suitable boyfriend. Henry had taken one look at Elle, and taken two steps back, like she was some kind of wild animal, and Helen’s dad was too busy worrying about why his recently installed smart lighting system wasn’t working to really notice there was another person in the house. Nanny G had also been well enough to greet them at the front door, perched up with the help of a stool and Grandpa M’s walking stick.
Helen opened her phone and looked at the photo of Vernon, she couldn’t wait to show her.
‘Hmmm what about this?’ Elle had yanked Helen’s old blue prom dress out of her wardrobe, and was bunching up the twinkling organza next to her face.
‘I don’t think that look is very festival-friendly, Elle!’
