Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend Read Online Free PDF

and I’d told her how wonderful she was, how cool and brave and fun. And finally I had something she’d wanted . . . and she’d taken it. Just taken it.
     
    Philly rushed up, ludicrous in a maxi dress that made her look like she was shuffling about on her knees. ‘Sorry, Carena, I tried to distract her . . .’
     
    Oh God, so she knew all about it. When had they cooked up this little plan?
     
    I stared at the three of them, aware my mouth was flapping like a jellyfish. I wanted to say something witty and devastating. Or, OK, I couldn’t think of anything witty and devastating. Something rude and to the point. But I opened my mouth and no sound came out. Nothing at all. It was as if, at the same time as Rufus slashed my heart, he took my vocal chords along with it. I waited two seconds, just in case Rufus might turn and look at Carena, slap his forehead in despair and shout, ‘Sophie, what was I thinking ? This horrible slut put something in my drink and bamboozled me, but how could she when it’s you I love? You I want to be with and look after and build a gorgeous life with for ever! Get away from me, you hag!’
     
    I waited. He didn’t. Carena glared at me, grasping the sleeves of his jacket. Rufus wasn’t looking at anyone, in the manner of a dog just caught misbehaving under the table.
     
    There was nothing else for it. I took off my six-hundred-pound shoes and threw them at them as hard as I could, then turned around and ran for it.
     
     
     
    Sitting in the back of the taxi, my whole body was red hot. I could feel myself trembling. How could she? How could he? My pretty dress felt like a silly joke. I burned up thinking about what I had said to the girls at lunch . . . about how, maybe one day, I thought we might be . . . I shook my head to try and get rid of the image. Then I remembered mentioning Rufus’s big house. Was it possible? Had Carena suddenly realised that he was richer than she’d thought? No, surely not.
     
    I thought about Carena - my best friend, who took me to my first Take That concert, and my first nightclub, gave me my first glass of champagne. What was she doing now? Was she still at the party complaining that I completely overreacted? Or was she embarrassed? Had she rushed out, feeling awful at kissing her friend’s man? Somehow, grimly, I didn’t think so. Oh God. Suddenly I thought I was going to be sick.
     
    ‘You all right, love?’ asked the cabbie, looking concerned.
     
    I felt the tears well up. My sexy, funny Rufus - mine! My lovely boy! - distracted in three seconds by a short skirt and a surprised-looking face. To lose a friend and a boyfriend all at once. How could life be so cruel?
     
     
     
    At first I didn’t see the ambulance. I was half-blinded by tears, and the savage amount of alcohol I’d managed to knock back, so I didn’t really pay attention until I saw it was right outside our house.
     
    Blinking, I climbed out of the taxi. I glanced upwards. Standing by the large French windows, silhouetted in the gathering gloom, was my stepmother. She wasn’t moving and she had her back to the window.
     
    And the front door was open. It was never left unlocked. But none of this really registered as, deep in misery, I set off up the stairs.
     
    The first thing I heard was crying. A soft sound that came from downstairs, which meant it was probably Esperanza. My brain couldn’t compute: what did this mean?
     
    From up above me came much more urgent noises - shouting, rough voices, things banging and moving around. Feeling like I was in a dream, I put my shaking hand on the banister.
     
    At first I couldn’t take in the scene in the drawing room. It looked like a film, or an episode of Casualty . Men and women wearing green and yellow neon jackets were everywhere, yelling and throwing things at each other. My stepmother was standing at the back of the room, by the windows. And there, lying on the floor, a ghastly shade of grey and not moving at all, was my