As they went past the gla.s.s doors of the gallery shop, Gina was stopped in her tracks by the sight of Amy looking through the racks of posters.

Except that just then the blonde head turned in her direction and Gina saw that it wasn't Amy, it was Rosie. Her hair was bundled up on her head, just like Amy's today, plus she was wearing a leather jacket, just like Amy's, red leather boots and tight jeans . . . just like Amy's.

As soon as Rosie saw Gina, she smiled and waved.

Gina smiled back and prepared to walk on, her hand still cosy and snug in Dermot's, but Rosie beckoned her over.

'There's someone I know in there who wants to say h.e.l.lo,' Gina explained to Dermot.

'No problem,' he replied, and followed her in, still not letting her hand drop.

'Hi, Rosie,' Gina greeted the younger girl. 'Buying something for your wall?'

'I'm so glad you're here. Now I can ask you: is this the poster that Amy has hanging above her bed? Or is it this one?'

Rosie flicked the rack open at one bright blue Matisse print and then again at a second. It didn't take Gina a moment to point out the right one, because her bed was opposite Amy's, so she had spent a lot of time looking at the painting.

'Are you buying it for someone?' she asked.

'Yeah, myself,' Rosie said. 'I want it to hang above my bed too. I think it's gorgeous. Amy's got such great style, hasn't she?'

Gina looked at Rosie carefully, taking in the hairstyle, the jacket, the jeans, the boots, even the little handbag Rosie was carrying: they were all exactly the same as her friend's.

'Yeah,' she answered, 'she does, but everyone has to do their own thing . . . I guess.'

Rosie just smiled back and didn't seem to take this as any sort of comment or criticism. 'So . . . Jason . . .' she asked next. 'Is Amy still seeing him, or is he now . . .?'Her question tailed off.

'Available?' Gina asked accusingly.

Rosie coloured up a little at this. 'No!' she said quickly. 'That wasn't what I meant.'

'I hope not,' Gina told her. 'Jason means a lot to Amy too much really.'

'Yeah, I suppose,' Rosie replied.

Once Gina had said goodbye to Rosie, she and Dermot walked out of the gallery. As they were strolling through the peaceful green sculpture gardens, a worrying thought came into her mind. If Rosie was trying to copy Amy in every single way, could she have taken . . . well, maybe just 'borrowed' Amy's precious necklace?

'That's a very serious face,' Dermot told her. 'You're not thinking of chucking me again, are you?'

'No!' She gave him a quick smile so he would know that he didn't need to worry about that.

'Good,' he replied, then turned and with his forefinger drew her chin gently up so that her face was tilted towards him.

When he moved in to kiss her, everyone else in the sculpture garden seemed to melt away, and for a few precious moments it was as if Gina and Dermot were the only people in the entire world.

But finally they had to break off, and after glancing at his watch, Dermot reluctantly said that he really would have to go. He swung his rucksack off his shoulder, telling her he was going to write down the names of some of the Californian artists she'd been talking about, so he could look them up.

That was cute, she couldn't help thinking as he rummaged in his bag and brought out a scruffy little diary. He was so into her, he was going to look up things she'd been talking about!

He opened the diary and pulled a stubby little pencil from its spine. 'Now, Lloyd Wright . . .' he began. 'How do I spell that?'

Gina looked down at the page he was balancing on his knee and began to spell. As her eye travelled to another entry written in red right across one of the dates, she saw something that made the words she'd intended to say next Dermot, do you want to come to our Halloween party? die in her mouth unspoken.

Quite clearly in his diary, Gina could read the scrawled words: Scarlett tonight.

Chapter Twenty-two.

When Gina arrived back at the boarding house that afternoon, she rushed to find Amy.

This wasn't to talk about Scarlett. Scarlett was something so private and awful and hurtful and confusing that she didn't think she'd ever be able to mention it to anyone. How could Dermot look at her with so much affection, kiss her so amazingly, sound so desperate to see her again and yet have an evening date with Scarlett? How could that be?

And anyway, Amy would tell her to do the perfectly obvious thing, the one thing she couldn't bring herself to do . . . Amy would say: Stop messing around, you dimwit. Ask him who the h.e.l.l Scarlett is!

But then it was so easy to give other people advice, wasn't it?

Gina would quite like to tell Amy to stop being such a dimwit herself. Jason was not worthy. No way!

Amy was in the common room, where she'd managed to s.n.a.t.c.h some time to catch up on her email on one of the school computers.

'Hi! How are your dad, Niffy and Jason?' Gina asked, guessing that this was who Amy was getting in touch with.

Amy greeted her friend with a smile. 'Had a nice little date, have we? Had a nice little smoochy-woochy in the arty gardens?'

'Yes thank you,' Gina said simply, hoping she looked as happy as she should.

'My dad is fine,' Amy replied, leaving out details of the argument she was still having with him about Jason. 'Niffy is in Edinburgh next week for a team practice, but it's on Wednesday so I doubt we'll be able to get out to see her. But her mum's doing well . . . And Jason, hah!' she groaned. 'Busy this weekend, of course, but he's going to try and come to the Halloween party and he says he'll definitely meet me during the afternoon before it . . . so, you know, another week goes by.'

'Where does he want to meet?' Gina asked.

'I said the Arts Cafe, so I won't look like a total spod when he's half an hour late. You'll come too, won't you?' Amy wheedled. 'To see your lover boy again.'

'Don't call him that,' Gina told her, but couldn't stop the blush from creeping up her neck. 'Anyway, I'm here because there's something I want to talk to you about.'

'Yeah?' Amy swivelled back on her desk chair, then hopped up and headed over towards the kettle. 'Tea?' she asked.

'No, thanks,' Gina answered, letting herself drop into one of the squashy sofas. 'I've had enough caffeine and adrenaline for one day.'

'So . . .' Amy busied herself with the whole mug and tea-bag thing. 'What's up?'

'Have you noticed how much Rosie is copying you these days?' Gina asked.

'Erm, well . . . not really, I don't think,' Amy said, but this was a fib. How could anyone not have noticed?

'Amy!' Gina protested. 'I b.u.mped into her today. She had your hairdo, your jeans, your jacket, your boots . . . in fact I thought it was you.'

'Nah . . .' Amy shrugged, feeling embarra.s.sed.

'Do you know what she was doing?' Gina went on. 'She was in the Modern Art Gallery shop buying a poster that's exactly the same as the one you've got hanging above your bed. That's a little extreme, isn't it?'

'Well . . . yeah that is taking things a bit far,' Amy had to agree, but she didn't seem nearly as het up about it as Gina was on her behalf. 'I'm not sure what to do,' she admitted. 'She's nice. I don't want to hurt her feelings.'

'She's trying to turn herself into you!' Gina insisted. 'Don't you think that's just a little spooky? Maybe she's thinking about going after Jason. And has it never occurred to you that your biggest fan is maybe the one who's got your necklace?'

'Rosie?' Amy exclaimed. 'She would never do anything like that. She knows just how much Jason and that necklace mean to me!'

'Well, have you asked her about him?' Gina demanded. 'And have you even told her your necklace is missing?'

'Gina! There are posters up the whole boarding house knows it's missing! But you're totally wrong here,' Amy shot back, looking angry now. 'I know Rosie. She's been really nice to me about Jason when no one else seemed very interested. She wouldn't dream of taking my things. In fact, why don't you come with me?' She headed for the door. 'Come on!' she urged.

Gina got up from the sofa and reluctantly followed her friend out of the room. Together they hurried down the corridor towards Rosie's dorm.

'You're not going to be able to talk to her now,' Gina pointed out to Amy. 'I think she's still in town.'

'I don't want to talk to her, I want you to look through her drawers with me and accept that you are completely wrong.'

'I'm not doing that!' Gina said, appalled. Hadn't looking through Penny's locker caused quite enough trouble? Penny now glared at them in every lesson and did everything she could to cause trouble for them at school.

'Yes you are. You can't accuse someone of something as major as this and then not follow it through. Anyway, Rosie borrowed a top of mine last week. I'll just tell her I urgently needed it back, so I had to go in and get it.'

'Amy, no!' Gina insisted.

But Amy was not going to be stopped.

The door of Rosie's dorm was already open. Then the door of Rosie's bedside cabinet was open and Amy was rootling around in it.

Out came the expensive Clarins hand cream that Amy used, a make-up bag which on quick inspection was filled with Mac, Amy's favourite brand then a pink leather diary with a lock on the front. A small photo alb.u.m was next. When Amy flipped through it, she was taken aback to find it contained only photos of her and Rosie taken in Dubai. Then she brought out a small half-used bottle of pink nail varnish that she recognized as hers. Next a small tortoisesh.e.l.l comb that she had been missing for a week or two.

'Both of those belong to you!' Gina said, remembering Amy's search for the items.

'OK, it's a little bit strange,' Amy had to agree. 'But maybe I lent them to her and I've just forgotten . . .'

But then a tan-coloured fishnet knee-high came out of the cabinet. Amy just knew it was hers. She remembered it had a little hole in the toe and she'd thrown it in the bin.

'Euwww,' Gina remarked when Amy placed the pop sock on the bed, beside the comb and the nail varnish. 'Please don't tell me that's yours as well? She's making a voodoo doll of you. That's what she's doing!'

Amy scooped up a pile of papers lying at the bottom of the cabinet, and as she did so, a small crumpled black and white photo cut from a school magazine slid out and fell between her fingers to the floor.

She didn't need to look to know who it was. With a sinking feeling, she picked up the stamp-sized photo and saw that of course it was Jason.

'Oh, mince!' she exclaimed, giving Gina a flash of the photo, then began to pack Rosie's belongings quickly back into the locker. She scooped up the 'misplaced' items that belonged to her and told Gina, 'That's enough. I'm not looking through anything else. I'll talk to her I'll just have to talk to her.'

When they were back on the stairs, Gina wondered aloud where Min was she hadn't seen her since breakfast.

'In the study,' Amy sighed. 'She's always in the study now. Last year was bad, but this year is completely ridiculous. She never comes out of there.'

Gina felt a pang of guilt that she had still not told Amy anything about Min's cyber friend but she had promised Min she wouldn't.

'Let's go and get her,' she decided. 'Maybe she'll know what to do about Rosie.'

'Oh, G.o.d!' Amy grimaced. 'This is so embarra.s.sing. A Year Four girl has got a crush on my crush and a crush on me! There's no other word for it, is there?'

Gina had to stifle a giggle at this.

Min was so absorbed by what she was doing at one of the study room computers that she didn't hear her friends come in.

Only when Gina was right next to her, whispering, 'h.e.l.lo, Min! Stop working! Take a break! It's Sunday!' did she look up with a start.

'Oh! h.e.l.lo! I didn't expect to-' Hurriedly, she flicked her mouse across her desk and closed down the page she'd been looking at.

'It's OK, Min,' Amy a.s.sured her. 'We're not going to copy your physics homework, no matter how amazing it is.'

'No, it's . . . um . . .' Min looked fl.u.s.tered; Gina realized immediately that she had been emailing the Gecko again.

'Relax!' Amy a.s.sured her. 'We were just missing you, and there's something I want to ask your advice about.'

When Min had been told all about Rosie and the hairstyle, the gallery poster, the nail varnish, the comb and the spooky knee-high, she leaned back in her chair and told Amy that there was only one thing she could do: 'You'll have to stage an intervention.'

'A what?' Amy was confused.

'You'll just have to go and face her and ask her all about this. Take one of us, if you like. And you should definitely ask her about the necklace too,' Min advised. 'She might know something.'

Supper was long over and it was almost time for the youngest boarders to go up to their dorms when Amy finally decided to go and look for Rosie.

But first she went in search of Gina; after looking in the dorm and the common room, she finally found her in the study.

'Hi!' Amy went up to her and whispered, 'Why are you working on a Sunday night?'

'Oh, I'm not really,' Gina said, and pushed the pages of her play under a textbook. She still wasn't totally happy with it, she still didn't know if she was going to enter the compet.i.tion or not and she definitely didn't want anyone to find out about it.

'Will you come with me to see Rosie?' Amy asked her. 'I just have a feeling this isn't going to be very easy.'

'Sure.' Gina was happy to agree because, if she was honest, a little part of her maybe, very selfishly, wanted Amy to fall out with Rosie.

They made their way down the corridor towards the Year Four sitting room, where they were sure Rosie would be: weekend evenings, free of homework, were currently a frenzy of creative activity as girls busied themselves making costumes for the Halloween party.

What had begun as a suggestion by Gina had taken life and shape and was now a major and eagerly antic.i.p.ated event in the boarding-house calendar. Gina, who was on the organizing team, had already planned a weird and wonderful menu of food and drink. A disco had been booked, boys had been invited, and now the spooky, ghoulish dress code had to be obeyed. No one not in a Halloween costume was going to be allowed in and that was final.

So now girls who'd never before had a needle and thread in their hands were busy in their sitting rooms with black felt, sequins, sparkles and feathers, trying to create outfits that were scary but nevertheless flatteringly cute.

But before Amy and Gina could reach the sittingroom door, it was flung open by three of Rosie's friends, who all looked frightened.

'What's the matter?' Amy asked.