Girls Under Pressure Read Online Free PDF Page B

a
Spicy
cover girl.
    “Nadine! Look, wait till they get in touch with you, right?” I’m not quite bitchy enough to add “Maybe they won’t” but I imply it.
    “I want to be
prepared,
Ellie.
Please
can I come round?” Nadine lowers her voice. “My gran and granddad are here and this Happy Families lark is getting way too heavy for me. They’re all gathered round Natasha just
watching
her, as if she’s a little television set or something, and my God, is she performing with her volume turned right up.”
    “Oh, Nad,” I say, weakening. “Look, I don’t know what help
I
can be. I’m no expert when it comes to makeup and stuff. Why don’t you go and see Magda?”
    I expect Nadine to say that she and I are best friends from way back and that she wants to plan it all with me. Then I’ll swallow the last sour jealousy pill and ask her over and fuss round her like a real friend. I’ll try terribly hard not to mind that she’s got serious model-girl potential and I’m just her fat freaky friend.
    “Oh, I’ve tried Magda. She’s so great with makeup. I thought she’d maybe trim my hair for me too. But she’s going out with this guy she met at the Soda Fountain. Not the one she really fancied, this is his friend—but life’s like that. Anyway, I can come over, Ellie, can’t I? Straight after lunch?”
    I take a deep breath.
    “Sorry, Nadine. We’re going out for lunch, and then on up to town somewhere,” I say. “See you tomorrow at school. Bye.”
    “You’re coming,” Dad calls from the kitchen. “Great.”
    “I wish you wouldn’t listen to my phone calls. They’re
private,
” I say. “And I’m not really coming. I just said that to get out of seeing Nadine.”
    “Of course you’re coming,” says Dad. “And what’s up with you and Nadine? I thought you two girls were practically joined at the hip. Have you broken friends?”
    “Of course not. You make us sound like little kids,” I say haughtily.
    “Just don’t break friends with Magda too. She’s a really cracking little girl,” says Dad, with a touch too much enthusiasm.
    “Stop bugging Ellie,” says Anna sharply. “And Magda’s young enough to be your daughter.”
    So I end up going out with Anna and Dad and Eggs to this tea shop in Clapham. It’s a great place, actually, with lovely deep blue-and-pink decor and cushioned chairs and round glass-topped tables, and all sorts of interesting people hang out there, students, actors, huge crowds of friends or romantic couples . . . but it’s not the place to go with your
parents
. I feel a total idiot, convinced everyone is staring at this sad fat girl who has no social life of her own. And the menu is agony. I read my way through all the delicious choices twice over: bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich; smoked salmon and scrambled eggs; bagels; scones with jam and cream; cheesecake; banoffi pie; sticky toffee pudding . . .
    “Just a black coffee, please.”
    “Isn’t there
anything
you fancy, Ellie?” Dad says worriedly. “What about chocolate fudge cake? I thought that was your favorite.”
    Oh, Dad, they’re all my favorites. I could easily eat my way through the entire menu. I’m almost crying with hunger as I look at everyone’s piled plates.
    “She’s still feeling a bit queasy,” says Anna. “But you’ll have to eat something, Ellie, or you’ll pass out.”
    I end up agreeing to a plate of scrambled eggs. Eggs aren’t too fattening, are they? Though they come with two rounds of golden toast glistening with butter. I tell myself I’ll just toy with a forkful of egg—but within five minutes my plate looks as if it’s licked clean.
    “There! Great, you’ve obviously got your appetite back,” Dad says happily. “So how about a wicked cake, too?”
    “Yes, I want cake, Dad,” says Eggs, although he has only nibbled his prawn sandwich. He pulls out every prawn and puts them in a circle on his plate.
    “Eat them
up,
Eggs,” says Anna.
    “They don’t