secret smile playing on the edge of her lips. ‘So, you got the black invitation too, little creature? We were just talking about it.’
‘Er, yes I did. It was sent to my home.’
‘You’re English?’ said Madison.
‘Yes, I’m from London.’
‘Have you met the queen?’ Madison asked, her blue eyes showing interest for the first time.
‘Funnily enough, no,’ Sapphire replied, thinking Madison was winding her up.
Apparently, she wasn’t. Madison just sighed, as if Sapphire was just one big disappointment. ‘When’s everyone else getting here? I need some proper people to talk to,’ said the blonde, staring up at the ceiling. So far she hadn’t once made eye contact with Sapphire.
‘I think Brad is back tomorrow so maybe they’re coming then,’ Sapphire ventured.
Simonetta turned sharply towards her, incredulous. ‘How do you know that? About Mr Brad?’ she said.
‘Er…the housekeeper told me. Maggie.’
‘Ah,’ said Madison. ‘Already friends with the domestics. Tragic.’ She turned a hand over and studied her nails.
After an excruciating five minutes in which Madison talked about herself, Simonetta closed her eyes as if asleep and Sapphire perched awkwardly on the stool wondering what on earth they were all doing there, the door opened and Maggie came in. Sapphire smiled with relief.
‘There you are, girls,’ Maggie exclaimed cheerfully. ‘Madison, Simonetta, I haven’t had the pleasure yet, but welcome to Casa Eleganza. I’m Maggie. If you need anything, just let me know.’
‘I’ll be sure to do that,’ said Madison, coolly.
Maggie smiled blandly, as if Madison had said something nice. She’s got the patience of a saint, thought Sapphire. The housekeeper clasped her hands together. ‘I’m thrilled to see you all getting to know each other,’ she said. ‘Now, dinner will be served in a few minutes. Can I get you anything to drink in the meanwhile?’
‘A cosmopolitan,’ said Madison. ‘Pomegranate. I literally won’t drink anything else right now.’
Maggie gave her a steely look. ‘Isn’t the legal drinking age twenty-one in America?’
‘Yeah, if you’re a loser. Besides, we’re not in America,’ said Madison condescendingly.
Maggie ignored her and turned to the other two. ‘I’ll get you all a fresh pineapple juice.’ Giving Sapphire a wink, she exited the room with the light movement of someone half her age.
At dinner, which was served in a long, elegant room with chandeliers twinkling above, Sapphire got a better look at both girls. From their manicured nails to their perfect eyebrows and salon blow-dried hair, they had an expensive gloss to them. Sapphire felt a bit like a poor relation, something Madison wasted no time in pointing out.
‘So, why is it you say you’re here?’ she said, toying with the delicious lobster ravioli she had barely touched.
‘My mum knows Brad Masters,’ Sapphire said. ‘She kind of told him I was doing my own thing musically and apparently he wanted to meet me.’ Even to her ears, it sounded hollow. Why am I here? she wondered for the umpteenth time.
She turned to the sultry girl on her left. ‘What’s your connection to Brad, Simonetta?’ They’d already heard at great length how well-known Madison was on the New York/LA party scene, and how Brad must have spotted her there.
Simonetta shrugged her tanned shoulders nonchalantly. ‘I am a model. I am beautiful. People recognise me. Brad contacted my agency and invited me out here.’
‘Oh, right,’ said Sapphire. She looked at Simonetta to see if she was winding her up with the being beautiful bit, but quickly realised she wasn’t.
‘I haven’t seen any of your work, you can’t be that successful,’ Madison said.
Across the table Simonetta’s eyes glittered dangerously, but she didn’t dignify Madison’s comment with a response.
‘And what is it you do?’ said Madison, turning to Sapphire. ‘Clearly nothing in the fashion industry.’
Sapphire ignored the jibe. ‘Actually, I’m a student. I’m doing an art degree.’
Madison looked as if Sapphire had just made her eat a tablespoon of dog shit.
‘And I work too,’ Sapphire continued, with a sudden urge to displease Madison even more. ‘I’ve got a part-time job in a record shop. To help put me through art school.’
‘A record shop?’ Madison asked, horrified. ‘What, you own it?’
‘No,’ said Sapphire. ‘I work at the till.’
‘Till?’
‘Cash register,’ said Simonetta, in a bored tone.
Madison gasped. ‘O.M.G,’ she said. ‘That’s so not hot.’ She made a show of examining Sapphire’s bitten nails and the Top Shop earrings dangling in her ears. ‘Are your family really poor or what?’
Sapphire was taken aback by the rudeness of the question. ‘It’s just me and Mum so it is hard,’ she said defensively. ‘Well, there was my dad too, but he died when I was young. Before I went to boarding school.’
‘Boarding school,’ mused Madison. ‘That’s private, right?’
‘Er…yes,’ said Sapphire.
‘So how did your mother afford that?’
Sapphire opened and then shut her mouth, realising she had no answer. It had never occurred to her before – how had her mum been able to send her to the best girls’ school in the area when some months in the winter they’d had the electricity cut off?
The door to the dining-room swung open and through it came Tito, the young man who had served their ravioli.
‘Ladies, excuse me to interrupt.’ Tito had big eyes and slightly goofy front teeth, which gave him the look of a startled rabbit. ‘Signor Masters has just phoned from Monaco. He says he’s sorry he can’t be there, but hopes this will please you in his absence. Please, follow me.’
Even Madison and Simonetta let curiosity get the better of them. As Simonetta unfolded herself elegantly and stood up, Sapphire realised how tall she was. Even without the black stilettos, the dark-haired girl must be six foot. Sapphire felt like a midget in comparison. Sighing loudly, Madison got up and shoved past her. Sapphire watched as the American girl tottered out the room in stupidly high wedge heels. Sapphire looked down at her own New Look thong sandals. She’d break her ankle if she tried to walk in Madison’s shoes. The three followed Tito out on to the veranda, where an inky sky hung over the evening sea. He stood there, gazing intently at the view.
‘Like, it’s the sea at night-time. Whatever,’ complained Madison. ‘You can’t even see that many
