'Is that an antique?' she asked cheekily.

'Shut up!' Dermot said with a smile. 'Just because my parents don't work in the software business. We're not that poor, you know,' he added, eyes fixed on the screen. 'There's just a lot of money tied up in Dad's cafe.'

Gina was glad when he kept on looking at the screen, because she could feel herself blushing. She knew she wasn't supposed to notice how poor Dermot and his family seemed to be in comparison to hers, but the differences kept taking her by surprise.

Dermot fired the machine up, and with lots of whirring, wheezing and clunking, the screen finally came to life. Gina's blush deepened when she saw that his screensaver was a huge photo of herself in a bikini, holding a drink, with the bright blue of the pool behind her.

It all looked so bright, so vibrant and so totally at odds with this poky little room in the back of beyond that Gina felt a stab of homesickness pierce right through her; suddenly, just like Jane, she wondered what on earth she was doing here.

Then Dermot suddenly stood up, put his hands on her shoulders and brushed her cheek with his lips, reminding her that it wasn't all so bad.

'I think you should take a look at my photos,' he said.

'Your photos?' she wondered.

'Yeah.'

Gina looked about the room but couldn't see what he meant. Then Dermot directed her attention to the bottom bunk. All along the back wall were quirky shots and landscapes.

'Did you take those?' she asked, craning down to see.

'Yeah,' Dermot told her. 'It's OK, you can sit on the bed to get a closer look.'

'I can sit on your bed?' Gina asked with a teasing smile, feeling her stomach flip with excitement suddenly. She slid herself across the bed, propped her head up on her elbow and asked: 'Are you going to give me a guided tour?'

Not saying anything, not taking his eyes off her face for a moment, Dermot moved across the bed towards her. Then he was pressed in against her, warm, solid and excitingly unfamiliar. His hands were on the bare skin of her back and she was kissing him fiercely, feeling his breath against her face.

When she opened her eyes, she saw his dark lashes brushing against his cheek. She put her hand up to touch his face and was surprised by the p.r.i.c.kliness of his jaw, but also by the softness of his cheek.

He was running a finger over the dip in her waist and it felt teasing and ticklish and- 'Maybe you two should go out! Show Gina the neighbourhood!' came Jane's shrill voice from the other side of the door, so loudly that they sprang apart in shock.

'Yeah . . .' Dermot cleared his throat. 'Good idea,' he added.

With a parting kiss on the tip of Gina's nose, he rolled off the bed and headed out of the door, telling her, 'I'll keep the dragon at bay see you in a minute.'

Slowly, feeling almost dizzy, Gina got to her feet. She smoothed down her hair, fastened a blouse b.u.t.ton that had come undone and looked around for a mirror.

Her eye fell on the computer screen. Dermot had left the doc.u.ments list open and she scanned down it. Bio Proj 1, 2, 3 and 4 were listed; then came lots of photo files; then her eye fell on SCARLETT, a file name picked out in capitals.

Without even thinking about whether she should or not, she put her hand on the mouse and clicked the file open. Well, Scarlett? Could any girl have spotted a name like that on her boyfriend's computer and not have wondered who it referred to?

The file opened and Gina saw a page packed with typed words: Lovely, lovely Scarlett, she read, so smooth-skinned and so kind, please just give me hope that one day you'll be mine . . .

'Gina?' Dermot called up from the hallway. 'How about we go out for a bit?'

With an unsteady hand, Gina clicked the file shut, tried to blank out the shock she was now feeling and walked quickly out of the room.

In the weeks leading up to this date, this first proper date with Dermot, Gina had imagined all sorts of little scenes. She and Dermot in Edinburgh's beautiful Prince's Street Gardens, licking ice creams and joking together; she and Dermot running up the many stairs to the very top of the Scott monument and kissing, breathless, at the top; she and Dermot walking hand in hand through the historic cobbled streets of the Gra.s.smarket . . .

Not one of her daydreams had included the tour she and Dermot now took of this dull bit of suburban Edinburgh.

Past a lackl.u.s.tre row of shops, Dermot pointing out his large gla.s.s-and-concrete high school in the distance, then left into a graffiti'd play park.

When Dermot had said it was boring round here, he hadn't been exaggerating. This was the most boring place in boring land. Where was everyone for a start? Even though the sun had come out, the park was empty.

All the time, Gina was listening to Dermot talk and saying very little; she just wanted to shout out: Who is Scarlett? But she was too . . . too what exactly? Too nervous? Too scared? She was half-convinced that it was nothing something she'd misread or misunderstood but then she was also half sure that Scarlett must be the girl Dermot really wanted to be with but couldn't.

Dermot pushed his swing closer to hers, took hold of her swing chains and pulled her in towards him. 'Take me away from all this!' he said melodramatically. 'I can't believe I brought you out here! It was just because of the bags-'

'And because I wanted to come. I asked to see your home . . .' Gina reminded him.

'And now you've found out I live in a dog toilet and you're going to dump me. Please don't dump me!' he pleaded.

'Shut up, Dermot!' she insisted.

She liked him; she really did like him. But she felt all stirred up inside, and not just with the unspoken angst about Scarlett. Dermot was so different from her and all her friends. Without even mentioning it, he made her realize how rich her family and her friends' families were. Before, she'd never given it much thought; now she felt strangely uncomfortable about it.

Although Gina had dated a few boys from her school back home, that had just been like kissing school friends she'd known for ever. Getting to know someone new like this . . . It was so different, so nerve-racking. She didn't know yet if she could even commit to being with Dermot. All she could see ahead were complications: feeling jealous and confused about Scarlett, feeling too rich, feeling uncomfortable, feeling nervous and uncertain . . .

'Wel . . . it was fun while it lasted,' Dermot said with a teasing smile, his face right up close to hers.

She was looking deeply into his blue eyes, which were startling now that there was no curtain of hair for them to peep through.

Then his lips were touching hers again, and somehow when he kissed her and she closed her eyes, it was just Dermot, and everything was OK again. When he kissed her, Scarlett and swimming pools, teeny family houses and nerves didn't matter any more.

When Gina finally remembered to look at her watch, she was panic-stricken to see that the time was 3.45! What? 3.45!

'OhmiG.o.d!' she cried out, springing up from her swing. 'I have to go. I have to go right now should have gone ages ago. I have to be back at the boarding house by four at the latest, or I am in so much trouble!'

Chapter Four.

It didn't matter how quickly they'd run back to Dermot's house, how important they'd made it sound when they booked the cab or how speedily Gina had urged the driver to get there. When she pulled up at number 9 Bute Gardens it was 4.49. Late. Late! Being late was something they took very seriously at St Jude's. She shoved some notes towards the driver and hauled her pink bags out of the car as quickly as she could.

Already there were no longer any parents' cars in the driveway. The usual collection of estates, four-by-fours, glitzy saloons, BMWs and Mercs was all gone. To Gina's surprise, the only thing parked outside the imposing stone boarding house was a police car. What was going on?

She stumbled along as best she could, weighed down by the bags. Only a hundred metres to the front door, but then a set of stone steps ahead of her.

Gina yanked the bags up behind her, arms burning with the effort. She decided to take one first and then the other. She was just reaching the top of the steps with her second bag in tow when she looked through the big gla.s.s pane in the door.

Two women police officers in hats and thick bulletproof vests, batons and cuffs hanging from their belts, were deep in conversation with the housemistress, Mrs Norah Knebworth.

Now, Mrs K may have been quite stout and quite short, even in her two-inch, block-heeled, shiny patent pumps, but she was formidable when her towering blonde beehive loomed up at you. Yes, somehow she did manage to loom up at people, in much the same way that taller, more frightening women could loom down. When she fixed her beady eyes on you and drew her lips into a thin line, crossed her arms underneath her terrifyingly solid bosoms, then yes, she was a force to be reckoned with.

There wasn't going to be any sneaking in late here, Gina realized. She was thinking fast . . . Could she say her plane was delayed? Could she say she met someone in town for lunch an old family friend, or one of the school's day pupils and plead that she'd lost track of time?

Maybe Mrs K, or the Neb, as everyone at the boarding house called her behind her back, would be too distracted by whatever was going on with the police to mind?

Anyway, what was going on with the police? People were only arriving back today. Maybe something had been stolen? Maybe there had been a break-in over the holidays?

Gina's hand was on the front door k.n.o.b. Just as she began to turn it and push open the door, Mrs Knebworth's steely blue eyes swivelled away from the police officers and on to her. When they registered who was coming in through the door, dragging her bags behind her, she gave a screech of fury: 'Gina! Gina Peterson! I don't believe it! Where on earth have you been? Your mother called here to speak to you at midday. Everyone has been looking for you ever since then we even called in the police!'

Oh, no! Surely not? Gina had expected a mild lecture for being forty-nine minutes late. She had not expected the launch of a full-scale police hunt. This was a catastrophe.

She swallowed hard. There were many sets of eyes on her now: Mrs Knebworth's boring a hole through her, the two police officers' looking at her curiously, and several girls' who'd heard Mrs K's raised voice and had come into the hallway to investigate.

'Where have you been?' Mrs Knebworth demanded once again.

'Erm . . .' Gina hesitated.

The eyes continued to glare at her. 'I've been trying to call your mobile,' the Neb went on. 'Your mother's been trying to phone . . . We checked with the airlines that you had definitely arrived . . . Good grief, Gina, we were all beginning to think something terrible had happened!'

'I'm really sorry. My phone battery died . . . I thought my mom knew I was going to meet, er . . . erm . . .' Stop hesitating! Gina told herself. Stop it or else she's going to know you're lying!'. . . a friend,' she finished.

'No!' the Neb replied furiously. 'Your mother knew absolutely nothing about this! Officers' she turned to the policewomen 'I'd better let you go. As you can see, this case has resolved itself. I am so, so sorry to have wasted your time on this silly little girl.' Glare, glare.

Gina suddenly felt a hard lump begin to form in her throat. Here she was on the other side of the world with this old bat shouting at her already; no one welcoming her back. So she'd spent a few hours with Dermot and his mum big deal! So she was fifty minutes late getting in the door? Even bigger deal! Why had she come back to this? Why was she not still in California with all the people who loved her so much?

The policewomen disappeared and Gina was left in the hallway to face the full fury of the Neb. The mouth, she noticed, had been pulled into a line, the arms were folded under the bosoms; it was going to be horrible.

Then someone rushed into the hallway at full tilt. A beautiful girl tanned, with flying blonde hair, tight new jeans, multi-coloured silky top, jangling golden jewellery, smelling delicious and sparkly with glittery eye shadow and diamonds.

'Gina!' the girl shrieked with happiness. 'You're back!'

Then, regardless of Mrs K's stare, Mrs K's fury, Mrs K's looming lecture, Gina was caught up in a tight bear hug, with kisses landing on both of her cheeks.

'Grrrrrrrreat to see you again,' the girl said, rolling her 'r's as only a girl brought up on the west coast of Scotland can.

It was Amy. Oh! She'd totally missed Amy.

Chapter Five.

'Welcome back, Gina, you're gated! This must be a new school record for the quickest ever gating. You didn't even make it out of the hallway and into the Neb's sitting room!' Amy, sitting cross-legged on her narrow school bed, was trying to make a joke of Gina's punishment.

The bed was littered with chocolate boxes and torn wrapping paper because the last twenty minutes had been a whirl of excited greetings, hugs and an exchange of the little presents and treats the girls had all brought back for each other.

Gina looked over at Amy, then across to her other friend, Min, before rolling her eyes. 'It's like I had lunch with the devil or something. I mean! His mum was with us practically the whole time. Eight weeks back home and I've forgotten what an alien species boys are supposed to be to St Jude's girls.'

Gina wrenched open the pink zip of her second bag and clothes began to spill out. First all the lovely new ones she'd bought while she was on holiday, which she was sure Amy would want to examine in detail; then the horrible St J's sludge-green uniform, which she'd had to put on for her friends back home, causing them to fall about with laughter.

'It's great to see you again,' she added, looking up at her room-mates with a big smile.

'Yeah!' Min agreed. 'The holidays seemed so long, but now we're back, it feels like only a few days since I last saw you. Strange!'

'It's just such a shame about Nif . . .' Amy tailed off. She didn't want to kill off the happy reunion mood in the dorm. She decided to change the subject. 'Why don't you tell us all about your date, Gina? Then all about your holidays, and then I'm going to tell you all about mine.'

'Yeah, well, don't hold your breath waiting for my news,' Min threw in. 'The all-Asian suburbs of Durban, South Africa, were not packed with adventure this summer.'

'You must be the only girl who comes back to school to have an exciting time,' Amy teased. 'Was it really that bad?'

Pretty, studious Min real name Asimina Singupta who was still wearing the green and gold sari she'd put on to wave goodbye to her large family at the airport many hours earlier, sat down on the end of her bed and began to play with her thick plait of hair.

'When I wasn't cooking or babysitting or visiting the numerous Singupta friends and relations, I had to do homework!' she told them.

'No!' Amy and Gina both chorused together. It was unthinkable that anyone should have to do homework during the summer holidays, and anyway, Min was easily the cleverest girl in their whole school year.

'The biology thing?' Gina asked. Both Min's parents were doctors and it was their dearest wish that their eldest daughter and all their other children should follow in the family footsteps. That's why she'd been sent all the way from Durban to St Jude's. The old-fashioned, long-established school worked its 450 day and boarding pupils hard and ensured that they all got the best possible exam results.

However, Min's weak spot was biology, mainly because she was so squeamish: just talking about a blood cell could make her feel faint.

'I thought that was all sorted out last term,' Amy chipped in. 'You're going to do physics and chemistry and specialize in medical research and radiotherapy and that kind of thing.'

'Yeah, but I'll still have to take biology right through school, so they want me to do well. They were just trying to help, I suppose. I got a letter from the Banshee during the holidays,' Min confided to her friends, 'and it wasn't exactly good news.'

'Uh-oh,' Amy sympathized.

The St J's headmistress, Banshee Bannerman well, technically Mrs Patricia Bannerman wasn't one of Amy's favourite people. It wasn't that there had been many run-ins. No, run-ins with the Banshee were a speciality of her other best friend and former dorm-mate, Niffy. As far as Amy was concerned, it was just a question of keeping a low profile wherever the Banshee was involved.

'You know how most of us are sitting nine S-grades this year, and some of us are doing ten? Well, looks like I'm going to be doing eleven.'

'Eleven!' Gina exclaimed. 'But that's crazy! You'll just be slaving away over your books the whole time.'

'Yeah,' Min agreed joylessly, 'but according to the Banshee's letter Miss Ballantyne was devastated to hear I wasn't doing history any more, so would I consider rejoining her cla.s.s.'

'Boring!' Amy exclaimed. 'You know what this is all about, don't you? The great school league tables. You're bound to get an A in history, so that's one more A on the chart for the great St J's. G.o.d! I've had such a pure, dead, brilliant holiday!' She stretched out across her bed and kicked off her high-heeled boots. 'I have no idea why I've come back to this dump. My lovely dad says I can leave after Highers if I want to, so only two more years to go after this one!'

'Were you in the Gulf for the whole vacation?' Gina asked, admiring Amy's even golden tan.

'Dubai, Saudi and Egypt,' Amy replied. 'My dad quite fancied checking out the nightlife in Iran too, but I told him it wasn't going to be that interesting, what with all the burkas and no booze.'

'Is he thinking of opening up some clubs over there?' Gina asked.

'In Dubai, definitely. Everything else was just tourism and looking for new ideas. He's importing all these amazing Egyptian tiles to put in the toilets of his new club in Glasgow. All holiday I got to stay up till three or four in the morning with him. Then we'd get up late, swim in the hotel pool and do it all over again. I loved it!' Amy confided.

She was the cherished only child of a nightclub- owning multi-millionaire from Glasgow and her devoted dad was already keen to teach her all about his business.

'And what about Gary?' Gina wondered. 'Did he come with you?'