Love Among the Treetops: A feel good holiday read for summer 2018

‘And she’s a pillar of society?’ I can’t help a slight sneer.

Paloma grins. ‘Sort of. She’s started raising money through charity events for this poor little kid who needs to go to America for life-saving treatment.’

I almost laugh, it seems so unlikely.

School bullyLucy Slater? Doing something good for others?

It flashes through my head that maybe she’s doing it to atone for all her past actions.

I wasn’t Lucy’s only victim. There was a girl in the year below me whose parents removed her from the school because she was so unhappy. Everyone knew it was because Lucy Slater had taken a dislike to her and made her life hell.

‘I know. Amazing, isn’t it?’ Paloma shakes her head as if she can’t believe it either. ‘Anyway, as part of her fund-raising effort, she’s organised a little class reunion in the back room of The Three Blackbirds, with a buffet and a fashion show.’

My stomach turns over. I don’t like the sound of this at all. Surely Paloma’s not expecting me to— ?

‘Everyone’s been asking if you’ll be there.’

‘And what have you told them?’

She looks sheepish. ‘I said you would be. Sorry.’

‘So when is it?’ A feeling of dread is already building at the thought of seeing Lucy again.

Paloma grimaces. ‘Tomorrow night?’

‘You’re joking!’ Hot tears prick my eyes and Paloma’s guilty look switches to alarm. ‘So I haven’t even got any time to prepare for it?’

‘Hey, it’s okay.’ She links an arm through mine and squeezes. ‘It’ll be fine. I’ll be right beside you and if Lucifer bloody Slater puts one dainty size four out of line, she’ll have me to answer to. I promise. I can’t even rule out a good old-fashioned, pierced-ear-ripping scrap.’

She nudges me, and I smile through my tears, feeling a bit stupid now. I’m not seven any more. Of course I don’t need Paloma’s protection!

‘Did you say a fashion show?’ I frown.

‘Yeah, I think Lucy still fancies herself as a bit of a Vivienne Westwood.’ Paloma grins. ‘I don’t think she ever forgave you for winning that school competition to design a ball gown for Princess Diana.’

‘Oh, yes. That was in first school.’ A memory flashes into my head. I was so pleased when the teacher announced to the class that I’d won, but then Lucy – who was runner-up – followed me home with her mates, jeering and laughing at me, making damned certain I paid the price for winning.

‘Your ball gown entry was really dreamy,’ says Paloma. ‘A pink fairy-tale dress with a crystal-studded bodice.’

‘Gosh, I’d forgotten about that. My memory isn’t as good as yours.’ Except for recalling the bullying. It’s funny how I can remember every single detail of that.

A little later, when Paloma is leaving to get back to work, she gives me a stern look. ‘See you tomorrow night?’

I swallow. ‘Do I have to?’

‘Yes. You do. You’ll see lots of people you actually like, who’ve been asking after you and are looking forward to seeing you. You’ll enjoy it. You’ll see Zoe and Diana.’

‘I suppose.’ Zoe and Diana were my other good friends at school. It will be great to catch up with them.

‘And anyway, I’m not going without you. Toodle-oo.’

I wave her off, close the front door, then lean back against it, suddenly exhausted. I can’t believe that all these years later, I still get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach at the mention of Lucy Slater. But perhaps if I make myself go along tomorrow night, I’ll be able to lay the ghost to rest.

Paloma’s right. People change. Of course Lucy won’t be the same nasty bully of old.

Growing up was hard for everyone, slaves as we were to our unpredictable hormones. We were all trying to work out who we were and, naturally, that resulted in certain kids lording it over the rest of us.

But school bullies don’t stay bullies forever. They grow up. Get older and wiser and regret their teenage behaviour.

Don’t they?

Chapter 5 (#u3a0aea97-22d2-55bd-b3c8-fd5390bd5788)

‘I’ll go in the pub on one condition.’ I glare at Paloma, as if it’s entirely her fault that I have to psych myself up to brave the class reunion.

We’re perched on the car park wall round the back of The Three Blackbirds. Inside the pub, Lucy’s charity event is presumably already under way.

‘And the condition is?’ Paloma folds her arms and eyeballs me kindly. She’s being incredibly patient, considering we’ve been lurking here for the past ten minutes while I decide if I want to go in or not.

I hate myself for being such a cowardy custard, but I can’t seem to help it.

I narrow my eyes and mutter, ‘If skanky Lucy Slater looks at me in any way weirdly, I’m out of there immediately, no questions asked. Okay?’

Paloma nods. ‘Okay. And I’ll be right behind you. I promise.’

Attempting a smile, I jump down from the wall and brush imaginary leaf mould off my black trousers, impatience with myself resulting in me slapping my bum much harder than strictly necessary. I’m aware I must seem ridiculously neurotic, but I guess that’s the effect ten years of dodging a nasty bully like her will have on a person.

‘All set?’ asks Paloma. ‘Look, we don’t need to stay long.’

I brush off her concern. ‘It’s fine. Come on. Let’s go in.’

We walk through the bar to the function room at the back. And – oh joy of joys! – Lucy Slater herself is waiting in the doorway to greet us, along with another girl who I vaguely recognise.

‘Hello! How lovely to see you both,’ cries my archenemy, and it all floods back to me how Lucy’s voice used to grate on me, with its slightly high-pitched, whiny tone. I take in the slinky black dress, ripples of raven hair and gash of red lipstick, before she envelops me in a brief but enthusiastic hug. She smells, appropriately enough, of Poison.

As I’m crushed against her, I make eye contact with the other girl and my heart sinks. It’s that Olivia person from the train. The one who’s obsessed with ‘clean food’ and fancies the arse off Theo Steel. We acknowledge each other with a half-nod and a raise of eyebrows.

Lucy sets me aside so she can give the same treatment to Paloma. Then she beams at us in turn. ‘So … almost everyone is here. Such a fabuloso turnout! And this is Olivia, my right-hand woman, so to speak. She’s been totally invaluable with regards to raising local awareness of our charity 10k. Olivia, you’ve met Paloma, I think. But not Twilight?’

‘Oh, but I have. We’re almost old friends!’ cries Olivia, linking my arm. ‘We had quite a chat the other day on the train, didn’t we? How’s Theo?’ She beams at me expectantly.

The question throws me completely. Why would she think I would know how Theo is?

‘Er, I’ve no idea.’

‘No? Oh well. Never mind.’ She pats my arm, as if I need consoling.

‘Right, help yourself to drinks and the buffet, ladies,’ trills Lucy, holding the door wide for us. ‘The fashion show will begin at eight prompt. And we’ll be drawing the charity raffle straight afterwards.’