‘Exactly,’ Norah said with deep satisfaction.
Her mother gave her an irritated look. She got up and turned to Poppy.
‘I think that’ll probably do.’
She left. Norah turned to Poppy, who looked oddly ecstatic.
‘I don’t know what you’re grinning about,’ Norah said. ‘We’ve still got to unload the rest of the van.’
‘Ahh, fu...dge,’ Poppy said with a glance to Freddie, who’d built a large castle in their absence.
‘I know what she was going to say,’ he told them smugly.
Twenty-Six
As Poppy and Norah settled into their seats at the PTA meeting, Poppy wondered what Susan would go to eleven about today. She looked rather over-caffeinated, even for her.
‘Right. Let’s talk raffle,’ the woman began. ‘It’s a week away, and we’ve already got a ton of food donations to make up hampers, but I need more. We need more. I want serious showstoppers. Blue sky thinking, guys.’
‘I can do a personal training session,’ said one guy eagerly.
‘Good. Next.’
‘I got an ice cream maker for a gift two Christmases ago from my aunt, and I’ve never opened the box. You can have that,’ a woman said.
‘Good. Next.’
And on it went. Everyone offering surprisingly impressive shit. Well, everyone except Poppy and Norah.
As the pressure mounted, Poppy tried to think of something good she could contribute. Maybe a voucher for The Sugar Cube? She’d have to ask the boss, but it was possible.
‘What are you going to offer?’ Norah whispered, looking a bit pressed.
Some guy with purple hair was telling Susan he could maybe do a free tattoo session.
‘Sugar Cube voucher,’ Poppy shrugged. ‘But I need to ask the boss first.’
Norah stared at her. ‘What? You can do a bit better than that.’
Poppy was confused. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You used to be a famous pop star,’ Norah pointed out.
‘For about ten minutes, years ago,’ Poppy said uncomfortably. ‘No one gives a shit about that now—’
‘You used to be a what?’ someone behind her said. They turned to see a middle-aged man with wire-rim glasses staring at Poppy.
Poppy turned. ‘Umm, no, nothing.’
The guy stared at her, the cogs in his brain visibly whirring. ‘Bloody hell! You were... Shit, I knew you looked familiar. From, from...’
Everyone in the room was turning to stare.
‘What’s all this, James?’ asked Susan.
‘Nothing!’ Poppy answered for him.
‘She used to be in, oh shit! What the hell was it called?!’ James said, still wracking his brain.
‘Dude, please, don’t,’ Poppy begged quietly.
The man clicked his fingers. ‘VELVET SMACK!’ he yelled, triumphant.
‘Wait, what?’ said a woman from the back of the room. ‘God, I used to love that song, err... “Noah!”’
Poppy could have sworn she heard Norah groan. What she had to groan about, Poppy couldn’t imagine. Poppy was the one who was about to get flayed alive.
‘Excuse me, but what the hell have you done!’ Poppy demanded of Norah.
‘I’m so, so sorry,’ Norah grovelled.
The room erupted into excited chatter as people all, little by little, recalled Poppy’s embarrassing past. She’d skated under the radar for so long that she thought she was safe from recognition. But it was blown now.
Susan was grinning ear to ear, a frightening thing to behold. ‘Well, that seems like something we could use. What have you got?’ she demanded.
‘How do you mean?’ Poppy asked, shrivelling by the second.
‘Well, you must have something from your pop days?’
