Megan Cole - Riches - Snog, Steal and Burn

There was a discreet knock on the door. ‘Come in,’ Luci called. An old guy in a black suit walked in with a tray and set it down.

‘Thank you, Stevenson.’

‘Will there be anything else?’

‘No, thank you,’ Luci told him.

Stephenson nodded and discreetly withdrew once more. ‘You have a butler?’ Celine exclaimed. ‘How frightfully English.’

Luci looked a bit embarrassed. ‘Stephenson’s been with the family for years.’ She leaned forward. ‘What can I get you Celine, tea or coffee?’

‘Coffee, please, no milk or sugar,’ Jhumpa cut in. Celine shot her a look: don’t mind me .

They endured another painful minute of silence as Luci poured out tea and coffee. Celine wondered when they were going to eat. She was starving.

‘So,’ Luci said. ‘I guess you guys got the letter as well, then?’

‘That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?’ Jhumpa said. She looked across at the punky-haired Argentinean girl, who looked like that model Agyness Deyn. Celine. She’d obviously had a good time getting here - Jhumpa had smelt the stale alcohol on her breath when they’d been introduced to each other.

No one seemed to be saying anything, so Jhumpa took the lead. ‘So, has anyone else’s dad gone missing?’ It was said a lot more nonchalantly than she was feeling.

‘Yes, mine,’ Luci said quietly.

‘Both mine have. My parents, I mean.’ Already pale with a hangover, even more colour drained out of Celine’s face.

It quickly become evident all the girls’ parents had been kidnapped from the same place, the Kashmiri border. Despite the fact they’d told their daughters they were going somewhere else. Something very strange is going on here, thought Celine.

‘Did they know each other, do you think?’ Luci asked.

Jhumpa shrugged. ‘I don’t know who my dad was friends with in the archaeology world.’

‘But he was an archaeologist?’ said Luci, frowning.

‘Yes. Why?’

‘Mine was… is… too.’ Luci looked at Celine, questioningly.

Celine nodded. ‘Yeah. Mine as well.’

‘All archaeologists. All going missing at the same time, from the same place,’ said Jhumpa. ‘They must have known each other.’

‘My dad would have mentioned your parents, I’m sure,’ Luci said, although she didn’t sound sure at all. ‘He tells me everything about his work…’ Seconds passed, feeling like years. No one had mentioned the S-word yet. ‘Do you think our parents are spies?’ Luci ventured.

‘No way,’ Celine said. ‘My parents live for their work, there’s no way they’d have time to be spies.’

‘Have they been going away a lot more lately?’ Luci asked.

‘Yes…but that doesn’t mean anything.’ Celine creased her forehead; her parents had seemed a bit preoccupied recently. She’d never thought anything of it until now. ‘This is stupid! Who would they be spies for?’

‘At least we don’t have to wait to find out much longer,’ Jhumpa said. ‘Whoever has called this mysterious meeting will tell us what’s going on.’ She looked suspiciously at Luci. ‘You really have no idea what’s going on? This is your house, after all.’

‘I swear, I know as much as you guys. Someone’s coming here tomorrow, to tell us how to save our parents. That’s all.’

‘That’s if we can still save them,’ Celine said bleakly.

Jhumpa looked at her sharply. ‘Don’t talk like that.’

‘Why not?’ Celine demanded. ‘Don’t tell me you haven’t been thinking about it?’

Luci jumped in. ‘Guys, let’s not argue. I know it’s hard but I’m sure things will become clearer tomorrow. No news is good news, hey? As far as we know, they’re still alive and well. Let’s keep thinking like that.’

Jhumpa muttered something under her breath, but Luci didn’t rise to it. If the letter was right - cancel your plans for the rest of the summer - they were going to be spending a lot of time together. They may as well get to know each other.

‘What do you do back home, Celine?’

‘I’ve just finished school.’ She rolled eyes black with eyeliner. ‘I’m meant to be going to college in the States to study archaeology. Follow in the footsteps of my famous parents.’

‘That’s a coincidence,’ Luci exclaimed. ‘I just finished my first year doing archaeology at Oxford. How cool is that?’

‘Uber cool,’ Jhumpa said sarcastically. Great, more archaeologists!

‘How about you, Jhumpa?’ Luci asked.

She tossed her hair back. ‘I’m an actress.’

‘What have you been in?’ Celine asked. All that hair flicking was starting to get on her nerves.

‘Nothing huge yet, but my agent’s got me loads of auditions lined up. I model as well, I’ve just shot an advert for L’Oreal.’

Luci was impressed. ‘Like Cheryl Cole?’

Jhumpa bestowed her with a gracious smile. ‘Yes, but mine was better produced than Cheryl’s.’

‘I’ve never seen it,’ Celine said, determined to put Jhumpa in her place. God, she loved herself!

‘That’s because it’s L’Oreal India,’ Jhumpa said patronisingly.

‘Well, I live in Argentina and I haven’t got a clue what you’re going on about. And I know about fashion.’ Celine did recognise Jhumpa’s face, actually, but there was no way she was telling her that.

‘Do you really?’ Jhumpa enquired, looking at Celine’s tie-dye T-shirt dress and studded ankle boots. ‘I assumed your invite said to wear fancy dress.’

A major catfight was about to kick off. ‘How about I show you to your rooms?’ Luci said hastily.

Jhumpa unpacked the last of her clothes and hung them up. There was a mirror on the door of the wardrobe and she had a quick sneak at her reflection. Every other mirror in this place seemed to be black with age; Luci’s family were seriously into their antiques. Jhumpa was pulling a well-practised pout, when something stopped her dead. Was that a white hair she was seeing?

This would never do, she was an L’Oreal model! Rushing over to her vanity case, Jhumpa got her tweezers out and swiftly removed the offending item. Please God; don’t let me start going grey. She’d have to start dying her hair in secret.

Hair drama over, Jhumpa wandered over to the four-poster bed. It creaked alarmingly as she sat down and for a second Jhumpa thought it was going to collapse. The chaise longue and long velvet curtains were a bit tired-looking. Cadwallader Hall had a kind of faded grandeur, like it was stuck in a time capsule from a hundred years ago. No doubt what English people referred to as having lots of “charm”.

The bed was making strange noises underneath her, so Jhumpa got up and walked over to the window. She had to admit the grounds were spectacular. Miles of lush green fields as far as the eye could see. Very different from the view of her apartment in Mumbai.

A clock chimed somewhere in the house. One hour until dinner with her new friends. That was a joke. Luci seemed all right but Jhumpa knew for a fact that Celine didn’t like her. Jhumpa didn’t care: girls were always bitchy about her. That’s what you get when you are a strong, independent woman. People felt intimidated. There wasn’t anything Jhumpa could do about it.

People may think she was a cold bitch, but that was just the way Jhumpa dealt with things. Her dad had had no idea how to relate to a little girl and Jhumpa had bought herself up, really. Early on, she’d learned to compartmentalise. There had been so many things to worry about, things she didn’t know and was scared of, that it had all become overwhelming. The only way she’d coped was to put all the problems in different boxes, tucked away in her brain. That way she didn’t think about them any more.