Dramas of a Teenage Heiress. Katy Birchall
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That vlog is so mean! Clearly just lies. Cal, Olly and I all agree that Nancy Rose is the WORST. Is there anything we can do?
Nothing. Thanks, though
You want us to come over and cheer you up? We don’t have to talk about what happened
I’d rather be on my own for now.
I’ll see you guys at school.
Thanks for being the best friend ever, though
BTW, I’ve come up with a plan
A plan? For what?
It’s genius
What are you talking about? What plan?
A plan to take down Nancy Rose.
Want to hear it?
Um. OK
We lure her to a deserted warehouse
That’s a creepy start
We wait in the shadows for her to arrive
Getting weirder
And then when we’ve got her right where we want her . . .
I regret asking about this plan
WE THROW WATER BALLOONS AT HER MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Wait. THAT’S IT?! Water balloons?
That’s your genius plan?
I know, right! It’s so great. It’s got it all: mystery, suspense, a climactic water balloon attack! What do you think?
Uh . . . how long have you been working on this plan?
Since I saw the video, so six hours ago!
I’ve done a tactical breakdown diagram of everyone’s positions and everything. Why?
Grace, you won a school award for academic achievement
Yeah?
You’re top of every single class.
You’re the brightest person I know
??
And you’ve spent six hours coming up with a plan . . . to throw water balloons
What’s your point??
Never mind. I’ll call tomorrow
I’ll keep working on the genius plan.
What are your thoughts on Super Soakers?
Is that making things too complicated??
Night Grace xxx
By the time I got to school on Monday, I was ready for the day to be over. I never should have left my bed but Mum forced me to get up, giving me an unwelcome lecture at the same time all about proving to the haters that I’m not afraid of them.
Firstly, when did Mum start thinking she could pull off phrases like ‘the haters’ and secondly, I am one hundred per cent afraid of them.
‘Chin up,’ she said as I bade Fritz goodbye and we got in our private lift from our flat on the fifteenth floor. She pushed the button for reception. ‘Don’t let Nancy Rose win.’
‘Her video has now gone viral and she’s even uploaded a second one to talk about her “brush with death” at my hands,’ I said with a sigh. ‘I think she’s already won, Mum.’
The doors pinged open and we stepped out into the main lobby. Even though I’ve lived at Hotel Royale all my life, I never get tired of the view when the lift doors open on to reception. My great-great-grandfather, who founded the hotel yonks ago, wanted it to be the grandest hotel in the world, so he made sure it had all these big columns and sparkling chandeliers and marble floors, then he shoved a load of gold leafing all over the plush wallpaper just in case it wasn’t obvious that this place was super posh. I like to think that my great-great-grandfather was a total drama queen who kept saying things like, ‘More gold, people, give me more gold !’
In my head for some reason he also has a French accent.
‘Good morning,’ Matthew said cheerily, shooting me a big grin as he came out from behind reception. ‘And how are we today?’
‘I hate my life.’
‘Excellent! Ready to smash that Monday morning!’
He winked at Mum. ‘Christine, Audrey was looking for you. She wants to run through your 9 a.m. meeting notes.’
I don’t know how Matthew is so jolly all the time. As head concierge, he has to talk to every guest and be super nice to them, even if they’re mean or grumpy, and he has to sort out all their yawn-inducing problems. Plus, he heads up the hotel’s booking system, which is the most boring spreadsheet in the world and he’s been doing it for YEARS. Last year, I was in charge of the spreadsheet for just one day and I was bored out of my mind. Somehow, he thinks he has the best job in the world.
‘I could never work anywhere but Hotel Royale,’ he once said to me with this twinkle in his eye. ‘It is magical.’
Which, you know, is sweet and everything, but I also kind of threw up in my mouth.
‘Thank you, Matthew,’ Mum said. ‘Is Audrey in her office?’
‘I’m here!’
Audrey’s voice echoed through reception accompanied by the familiar sound of her unbelievably high stilettos clacking across the marble floor. I know I should be amazed by how organised and important she is, being general manager of the hotel, but I genuinely think I’m more impressed by Audrey’s ability to walk around in those stilettos. I actually saw her run in them once, when she was ‘late’ for an important appointment and I swear, she looked just like those giraffes galloping through the plains on David Attenborough documentaries. Also, Audrey is NEVER late to anything but she always thinks she is, which means when she takes me anywhere we’re always a hundred years early.
When I mentioned her giraffe-gallop, though, she didn’t look very impressed. Whatever – they’re elegant creatures. Better than the comparison she made about me that time I borrowed some roses from reception and put them in my room for a party (because technically the hotel is MY house so by default they’re MY flowers). Audrey gave me this funny look when she found out and said I reminded her a bit of Edmund from the Narnia books. I googled him and that is NOT a compliment. He betrays his family for some Turkish delight, which is the worst.
I mean, what kind of moron chooses gross Turkish delight? If you’re going to go to all that trouble betraying people, at least let it be for something good, like cola bottles or a Dip Dab.
‘Are you available for a quick chat before our meeting, Christine?’ Audrey said, juggling some files in her arms.
‘I’m just going