The Secret Place (Dublin Murder Squad, #5)(19)

Orla manages to get out, ‘I guess I kind of like him. I mean—’

‘Course you do.’

‘Everyone does.’

‘You lucky cow.’

Orla’s grinning from ear to ear. ‘So can you . . . ? OhmyGod. I mean, can you, like, tell Dara and then he can tell Andrew?’

Joanne shakes her head regretfully. ‘That wouldn’t work. He’s still going to be too shy to actually come over to you. You’re going to have to say something to him.’

That sends Orla into a paroxysm of wriggles and giggles, hands splayed over her face. ‘OhmyGod, I can’t! I just, like— OhmyGod!’

Joanne and Gemma are all earnestness, Alison looks confused, but the guys are jaw-clamping down sniggers. Holly, with her back to them, does an eye-widening Do you believe this? grimace.

‘Fuck me gently,’ Julia says to the M&Ms, too low for Joanne to hear. ‘With friends like those . . .’

It takes Becca a second. ‘You think they’re lying?’ Joanne has always been the kind of person who doesn’t even have to hate you to be horrible to you: she says vicious things out of nowhere, for no reason at all, and then smirks at your stunned face. But this is different. Orla is Joanne’s friend.

‘Hi. Welcome to the world. Of course they’re lying. You think Andrew Moore would go for that?’ Julia tilts her head at Orla, who is bright red and gummy with hysterical giggles and in fairness not looking her best.

‘That’s disgusting,’ Becca says. Her hand is clenched around the Skittles packet and her heart is thudding. ‘You can’t do that.’

‘Yeah? Watch them.’

‘They’re doing it to impress them,’ Holly says, and nods at the three guys. ‘Showing off.’

‘And they’re impressed? Like, they want girls to do that? To their own friends?’

Holly shrugs. ‘If they thought it was so terrible, they’d say something.’

‘This is the perfect chance,’ Joanne says, throwing a private smirk to the tall guy. ‘Just go over and say to him, “Yes, I like you too.” That’s all you have to do.’

‘I can’t, ohmyGod, I soooo can’t—’

‘Course you can. Hello, it’s the twenty-first century? Like, girl power? We don’t have to wait for guys to ask us out any more. Just do it. Think about how happy he’ll be.’

‘Then he’ll take you back behind the Court,’ Gemma says, body moving languidly on the fountain-edge, ‘and he’ll put his arms around you, and he’ll start kissing you . . .’ Orla twists herself into a knot and snorts with giggles.

Julia says, ‘A fiver says she actually does it. Anyone on?’

Selena says quietly, glancing over at Andrew Moore, ‘If she does, he’s going to be horrible.’

‘A total dick,’ Julia agrees. She throws a couple of Mentos into her mouth, like she’s at the cinema, and watches with interest.

‘Let’s go,’ Becca says. ‘I don’t want to see this. This is awful.’

‘Tough. I do.’

‘Better hurry up,’ says Joanne, singsong, nudging Orla’s leg with her toe again. ‘He’s not going to wait forever, no matter how much he fancies you. If you don’t get in there fast, he’ll go off with someone else.’

‘I could use a fiver,’ Holly says. She turns around. ‘Hey! Orla!’ And when Orla unrolls herself enough to look over, red and grinning like an idiot: ‘They’re just messing with you. If Andrew Moore wants to be with someone, you think he’s too shy to chat her up? Seriously?’

‘Excuse me?’ Joanne snaps, sitting up straight and shooting Holly a vile look. ‘I don’t actually remember asking you what you think?’

‘Excuse me, you’re screaming in the middle of the Court. If I have to listen to it, I get to have an opinion about it. And my opinion is, he doesn’t even know Orla exists.’

‘And my opinion is that you’re an ugly skanger who should be in some community school where normal people wouldn’t have to listen to your stupid opinions.’

‘Whoa,’ says the guy with Gemma’s head in his lap. ‘Catfight.’

‘Ohhh yeah,’ says the tall guy, grinning. ‘Bring it on.’

‘Holly’s dad’s a detective,’ Julia explains, to the guys. ‘He arrested Joanne’s mum for hooking. She’s still holding a grudge.’

The guys start to laugh. Joanne draws herself up and opens her mouth to come back with something terrible – Becca is already flinching – when, across the fountain, the noise level goes up. Andrew and three of his mates are holding another one over the water, swinging him by his wrists and his ankles while he shouts and struggles. They all have one eye on the girls, to make sure they’re noticing.

‘OhmyGod!’ Joanne nudges Orla so violently she almost goes into the fountain. ‘Did you see that? He was looking straight at you!’

Orla’s eyes go to Holly. Holly shrugs. ‘Whatever.’

Orla stares, paralysed. Her head is obviously spinning so hard she can’t think, even by her standards.

‘What are you looking at me for?’ Julia wants to know. ‘I’m just here for the show.’