Blades

Chapter 21

Chapter 21

I'm always amazed by how many clothes there are in shops and how few I want to buy. This must be at least the twentieth dress I've tried on today and even those that looked lovely on the hanger look wrong on. It makes me wonder if anyone actually has the body shape all these shops seem to make for.

"Would now be a good time to remind you I was promised lunch?" calls Charlie through the changing room curtain. He only joined Sophie and I on Oxford Street half an hour ago and I can tell that he's already tearing his hair out from boredom. Neither Charlie nor I has a particular talent or patience for shopping, which is why Sophie got added to the equation. I don't think Charlie has yet forgiven me for continually leaving him on plush benches to be flirted with. I'm going to have to buy him a really good lunch.

I pull the latest dress over my head and stare at myself in the mirror. The rich emerald green of the fabric brings out the ginger in my hair in a nice way but it's cut a little lower at the front than I'd normally choose. I give a gentle twirl in the confinement of the booth. I asked Sandy what I was supposed to wear and was told: one, be able to dance in it; two, if possible, green, purple or black. I've no idea why the latter matters but I'm certainly not wearing more than one of those colours because I'll look like a witch.

I peek my head around the curtain to see Charlie staring at the wall with a sullen expression, arm adorned by Sophie's hand. She flicks her hair and Charlie looks like he's either going to bolt or throw up. His relief when he sees me is obvious.

"Come out, then, Fred-Astaire!" he says, jumping to his feet and knocking Sophie's hand away by doing so. I step out of the booth for them to see, feeling awkward as they look me up and down for the umpteenth time.

"Oh, Freddie," Sophie says, "you look beautiful. You have to buy it."

I turn to Charlie who is still squinting at me critically.

"Spin," he says and I do, several times for good measure. He nods. "That's the one."

"Really?" I chew my lip nervously. I so badly want the dress to be right. "You're not just saying that because you're bored and want lunch?"

He laughs, "Well, I do want lunch. But it's also the right dress. You look hot." I flush and Charlie laughs again, waving me to go and get changed. I don't miss the way Sophie's face clouds as he compliments me and for the first time I feel sorry for her. Maybe it's not just a crush she has on Charlie – maybe she really likes him. It's just a shame she doesn't like Harry instead.

"Charlie," I say as we walk home along our road. We split up with Sophie at the bus stop and I'm trying to be tactful. "Has Sophie ever...I don't know, asked you out or anything?" Charlie's snort is disdainful.

"Nope. I'd have told you, obviously. And I hope to god she never does, thanks very much." He's so dismissive that I feel defensive for her.

"I know she sucks up to Maria and her lot - "

"Prissy Little Princess and Co.," he corrects; he always has to call them that, to clarify that he disapproves of them. I ignore him and plough on.

"But she's actually really sweet."

Charlie stops and stares at me. One eyebrow is raised in a scornful arc.

"Are you trying to set us up or something, Freddie?"

"No," I say, but the eyebrow shifts higher, "No. It's just that I realised today...she likes you, Charlie. Properly like likes you."

He sighs, "I had realised, you know. The endless flirting was a bit of a giveaway." I don't know why the situation is making me flustered but it is and my cheek colour is the proof of it.