you know, the boys who are having the Lizzie party, and that’s when they offered me my first commission.’ She stopped. ‘Then I stumbled across my cottage and someone sold me my jeep.’
It was freaky. What’s more, both the girls were looking quite unsurprised by what she was telling them.
‘Everything’s obviously as it should be,’ Julia gently pointed out. ‘You said yourself, it all seems to have worked out perfectly! But have you wondered, Lizzie… whether it’s more than just coincidence…’
‘Um - no,’ she replied uncertainly. And she hadn’t even got on to the fair-haired stranger.
Lizzie drove back home so deep in thought she completely missed the turning to Littleton. And it was only after she‘d turned round she realised she hadn’t seen the rusty sign in the hedge that had led her there, that day she’d fled from London. Even more curiously, when she reversed back to check, it was nowhere to be seen.
‘They sound barking,’ was Antonia’s comment when she told her about the Lizzie party. ‘Golly, well I could go as old Queenie – got a posh frock or two and a tiara hidden away somewhere. You better scrub up a bit Lizzie, you are the guest of honour after all…’
Katie emerged down Lizzie’s stairs looking every bit like Elizabeth Hurley, except for her boobs which were on the small side, so they stuffed the dress with chicken fillets and stuck her in with tit tape.
Tilly, bless her, was in a quandary. ‘I was going to go as Hilary Duff in Lizzie Mcguire, in a blond wig I borrowed from the salon,’ she said sounding perturbed, standing with her pink head on one side as she spoke. ‘But it makes me look more like Lady Penelope in Thunderbirds, so then, I thought, well, you’re the guest of honour, someone ought to go dressed as you…What do you think?’
‘Um, be my guest’ said Lizzie doubtfully. ‘If you want some patched jeans and a second hand t-shirt from the Oxfam shop, help yourself.’
‘ Mmmm.’ Tilly thought some more. ‘Cool. I think I will. Can I borrow your Hunters?’
Actually the boys were right, and it was a hoot, with half the guests thinking Tilly was Lizzie, which all added to the madness.
The barn had been decorated most tastefully with candles and flowers on every available surface, and Darius had the most divine cocktails lined up. He’d put on a trial run for Lizzie the previous weekend, inventing the innocuously named Frizzy Lizzie in her honour which was completely lethal, and had given her the worst hangover of her life. They’d decorated the modern scrap metal sculpture that Darius had bought with gardening tools and fairy lights, and the garden was lit with flaming torches which created flickering shadows as the sun sank over the hills, so that it all came to life with just the perfect amount of flamboyance. With the thumping music and the most curious ensemble dressed as various Elizabeths, the evening went with a bang.
‘I do so love parties,’ said Angel wistfully, clasping his hands in front of him as he looked around at the crowd. ‘Isn’t it wonderful to see everyone enjoying themselves? Everyone came you know… Well, nearly everyone…’ he frowned. ‘Tom Woodleigh’s not here yet, darling, you’d love him, he’s rather gorgeous… Oh sweetie,’ he clutched Lizzie’s arm as Tilly drifted in from outside. ‘She’s off her head already.’
Float ing serenely in from the garden, Tilly was followed by an unmistakeable waft of smoke, which along with the vacuous expression on her face, completely gave her away.
‘ Hi-i,’ she drifted in towards the party. ‘Oh hi Angelical…’
‘Oh she is , isn’t she,’ whispered Angel, before adding, ‘As a kite! Oh bless, what a lamb, no-one’s ever called me Angelical before! I think I might see if there’s any left,’ he whispered as he slipped out into the night.
Nola and Julia added a touch of class to the
It was freaky. What’s more, both the girls were looking quite unsurprised by what she was telling them.
‘Everything’s obviously as it should be,’ Julia gently pointed out. ‘You said yourself, it all seems to have worked out perfectly! But have you wondered, Lizzie… whether it’s more than just coincidence…’
‘Um - no,’ she replied uncertainly. And she hadn’t even got on to the fair-haired stranger.
Lizzie drove back home so deep in thought she completely missed the turning to Littleton. And it was only after she‘d turned round she realised she hadn’t seen the rusty sign in the hedge that had led her there, that day she’d fled from London. Even more curiously, when she reversed back to check, it was nowhere to be seen.
‘They sound barking,’ was Antonia’s comment when she told her about the Lizzie party. ‘Golly, well I could go as old Queenie – got a posh frock or two and a tiara hidden away somewhere. You better scrub up a bit Lizzie, you are the guest of honour after all…’
Katie emerged down Lizzie’s stairs looking every bit like Elizabeth Hurley, except for her boobs which were on the small side, so they stuffed the dress with chicken fillets and stuck her in with tit tape.
Tilly, bless her, was in a quandary. ‘I was going to go as Hilary Duff in Lizzie Mcguire, in a blond wig I borrowed from the salon,’ she said sounding perturbed, standing with her pink head on one side as she spoke. ‘But it makes me look more like Lady Penelope in Thunderbirds, so then, I thought, well, you’re the guest of honour, someone ought to go dressed as you…What do you think?’
‘Um, be my guest’ said Lizzie doubtfully. ‘If you want some patched jeans and a second hand t-shirt from the Oxfam shop, help yourself.’
‘ Mmmm.’ Tilly thought some more. ‘Cool. I think I will. Can I borrow your Hunters?’
Actually the boys were right, and it was a hoot, with half the guests thinking Tilly was Lizzie, which all added to the madness.
The barn had been decorated most tastefully with candles and flowers on every available surface, and Darius had the most divine cocktails lined up. He’d put on a trial run for Lizzie the previous weekend, inventing the innocuously named Frizzy Lizzie in her honour which was completely lethal, and had given her the worst hangover of her life. They’d decorated the modern scrap metal sculpture that Darius had bought with gardening tools and fairy lights, and the garden was lit with flaming torches which created flickering shadows as the sun sank over the hills, so that it all came to life with just the perfect amount of flamboyance. With the thumping music and the most curious ensemble dressed as various Elizabeths, the evening went with a bang.
‘I do so love parties,’ said Angel wistfully, clasping his hands in front of him as he looked around at the crowd. ‘Isn’t it wonderful to see everyone enjoying themselves? Everyone came you know… Well, nearly everyone…’ he frowned. ‘Tom Woodleigh’s not here yet, darling, you’d love him, he’s rather gorgeous… Oh sweetie,’ he clutched Lizzie’s arm as Tilly drifted in from outside. ‘She’s off her head already.’
Float ing serenely in from the garden, Tilly was followed by an unmistakeable waft of smoke, which along with the vacuous expression on her face, completely gave her away.
‘ Hi-i,’ she drifted in towards the party. ‘Oh hi Angelical…’
‘Oh she is , isn’t she,’ whispered Angel, before adding, ‘As a kite! Oh bless, what a lamb, no-one’s ever called me Angelical before! I think I might see if there’s any left,’ he whispered as he slipped out into the night.
Nola and Julia added a touch of class to the
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