Katy Birchall - Secrets of a Teenage Heiress

Grace’s jaw dropped open. ‘Do you think you’ll get more than one backstage pass?’

‘Grace, calm down,’ Ella scolded, before rolling her eyes at me as Grace’s face fell.

I smiled to myself, remembering a year ago when Ella had practically torn my arm off in her excitement of her favourite boy band staying at the hotel, begging me for tickets or a chance to bump into them in reception. Now she had her new minion to impress, she was better at keeping up appearances.

‘If I get more than one pass, I’ll be sure to let you know. I’ll ask her if we hang out later.’

‘Hang out?’ Grace whispered, glancing nervously at Ella to confirm her tone and pitch were more acceptable.

‘Of course.’ I shrugged. ‘Mum often asks me to hang out with the VIP guests, you know, just to be polite.’

Grace put a hand on her heart as though to steady herself.

It wasn’t a complete lie, either, Mum did sometimes force me to give up my evenings to hang out with guests, so that part was true. The more questionable part was the VIP side of things.

What actually happened was that any time Mum wanted to talk to a guest and they had a daughter or a son my age, she would insist I join them – for some reason, Mum seems to think that being a similar age means we will automatically get on. I’ve always had to stand there awkwardly and silently with some loser teenager while our parents talk rubbish until my promised hour is up and I can escape back to my room ASAP.

I never get to talk to anyone I’ve actually heard of, like famous actors or pop stars. Usually they have so much security it’s impossible to get to them and I’m under strict instructions never to pester them or get in their way. The only time I really get to be in the same room as celebrities is the Hotel Royale Christmas Ball, which is my favourite night of the year and the biggest and best party in the world. Famous people and royal families from across the globe come to the hotel all dressed up in these amazing designer ballgowns, and they’re always all over the front pages the next day. It’s basically the Oscars but way better because there are no boring speeches and no one cries. Usually.

But other than the Christmas Ball, Mum always says that famous guests come to Hotel Royale to escape the fuss, and it’s important to her that they feel they can relax in the hotel without feeling they’re being watched or scrutinised. So there was no chance that Mum would let me go near someone as famous as Skylar Chase; I was never allowed to bother any celebrities.

But no one had to know that.

‘You know, Flick –’ Ella smiled – ‘if you want to bring Skylar along to my party next week, I wouldn’t mind.’

Gasps rippled through our audience.

‘That is,’ she continued, ‘if you manage to persuade your mum to let you come.’

‘I’ll see what I can do.’

Everyone around us burst into chatter and Ella looked extremely pleased with herself, no doubt dying inside at the idea of Skylar Chase attending HER party. Obviously, it was never going to happen but I couldn’t shoot her down straight away, not with the whole class watching.

Hey Grace

Hey Flick! Wassup?

Not to be weird but . . . are you following me home?

What?! Course not!

OK. It’s only . . . I can see you

What do you mean? I’m on my way home. Which is the opposite direction to the hotel

I can see you behind that lamp post

What lamp post?

The one you’re hiding behind

That must be someone else

I just saw you type that text

Must be someone else texting while we’re texting too. Weird coincidence!

I can literally see you. Right there behind that lamp post

Are you sure you’re not following me? No offence, but that’s kind of creepy

I told you that if I see Skylar Chase, I’ll call you immediately, OK? And when I’m not grounded any more, you can come to the hotel after school

THANK YOU!

No worries. You can leave the lamp post now and go home

I totally wasn’t following you That would be weird

Right

I had to come this way to check out . . . this lamp post

Sure. That makes sense

It’s a historical gem

Go home Grace

When I got home, I couldn’t help but get a teeny bit excited that Skylar Chase might be there. There were LOADS of photographers and reporters lurking around the entrance, getting in the way and ignoring the dirty looks from the doormen, who were attempting to welcome guests. I’m not supposed to talk to journalists, especially not about guests staying at the hotel, and thanks to Mum not letting me do any self-promotion they’re never interested in taking my picture. But some of the reporters know who I am and they gave me a friendly nod as I went round the revolving doors into reception.

What if I actually did bump into her? I looked about for any sign that the biggest pop star on the planet was staying in the hotel but everything looked exactly as it always did: Matthew was speaking on the phone behind the reception desk, a porter tipped his hat at me as I walked past, and guests wandered by on their way to their bedroom or the tearoom. The only thing that was different was that the extravagant flower arrangements around the lobby had been changed from pink flowers to purple ones.

‘Ah, Flick, I’ve been waiting for you.’

I grimaced as Audrey came down the stairs. Before this whole Skylar-Chase thing distracted me, I’d been planning on racing straight to my room when I got home, thus avoiding any run-ins with Audrey or Matthew. My dawdling had cost me.

‘I’m impressed. I thought you might run straight to your room and try to avoid me,’ she admitted.

‘Why would you think that?’

‘Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because on any other occasion that your mother has asked you to help someone in the hotel, you’ve rushed to your room, locked the door and pretended to be asleep.’

‘Did you want something, or were you just looking for me to tell me off ?’ I huffed.

‘I need your help with a small task in the restaurant.’

‘Great, OK, but I have to go and walk Fritz and then I’ll be with you.’

‘I thought you might say that, which is why I asked Jamie to take Fritz out about fifteen minutes ago. I’m sure Fritz is having a marvellous time in the park right now. So, to the restaurant.’ She smiled, ushering me towards it. ‘You can help set up for the first dinner sitting.’

I was surprised by how mild the job allocation was – how hard can it be to set out a few knives and forks? – but I groaned loudly for effect so she wouldn’t think I was getting away with it.

‘Ah, Timothy.’ Audrey beckoned over one of the waiters folding napkins. I recognised him from the other day when he annoyingly interrupted my conversation with Mum about the selfie stick. ‘Flick will be assisting you for the next hour. Is it OK if I leave her in your charge?’

‘Absolutely,’ he said cheerily. ‘Welcome to the team, Flick.’

I did my best unimpressed face.

‘I’ll let you get started then,’ Audrey said, clapping her hands together before sauntering back to reception.

Timothy gestured for me to follow him to a trolley on which there was a large, shiny silver tray. Piled up on it was what looked like a hundred different pieces of cutlery.

‘Terrifying, isn’t it?’ He chuckled. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll soon get the hang of it. I’ll run through what each knife and fork is for, and so on and so forth, and then you can watch me do some settings before having a go yourself. Does that sound like a plan?’