'I think so.' She peers down and nearly slips. 'Whoops! Hang on a minute.' She pulls hard, wriggles a lot, and then somehow gets one foot up on the wall too.

'Oh, careful, you'll fall!'

'No, no, wait a minute.' She levers her foot further across, wriggles a bit more, gets her leg right up and then suddenly there she is, sitting triumphantly side-saddle on top of the wall.

'How did you do that? How did you get right up it?'

'I'm good at climbing. And there's the creeper-thingy so I hung onto that. I could jump right down into your garden, if that's OK with you?'

'Well. . .'

'I'd come through the gate, but it's all locked up and it's one of them ones with a security code, isn't it?'

'Yes, I think so.'

'So how do your friends nip round to see if you want to play out?'

'They don't. I suppose their mum and my mum might fix it up first, on the phone,' I say uncomfortably, not wanting to let on that I don't have any friends just at the moment.

'Well, I've come round on the off-chance, haven't I? Can I come in?'

I know I shouldn't let her. Mum would go bananas. She's always going on to Dad that we should have more security. She tried to get the wall built even higher, with jagged glass at the top, but the other Robin Hill residents objected, saying it wouldn't be in keeping with the rest of the estate. Mum was furious, saying they were all a load of nosy interfering snobs, and they simply didn't understand our security problems because they just had boring old managing directors for their husbands, not world-famous rock stars. We didn't just have to worry about burglars the kids could well be stolen and held to ransom.

But this girl with the ponytail is clearly not a burglar or a kidnapper. It's so strange: I don't know her, I don't even know her name, and yet I don't feel shy with her. I feel I can say anything and she won't laugh or screw her finger into her forehead or call me weird.

'Yes, of course you can come in but do be careful. Look, wait . . .' I take John's fleece off, roll it up and put it on the ground by the wall. 'This should break your fall or I could try and catch you if you like.'

'I'd knock you flying!' she says. 'It's OK. Watch!'

She suddenly leaps, landing neatly and gracefully on the fleece, bending her knees and then straightening up and flinging her arms wide, just like a gymnast.

'Now I'll clap you,' I say, doing so.

'I hope I haven't got your dressing gown muddy,' she says, picking it up and shaking it out.

'That's not my dressing gown!' I say. 'It's John's fleece.'

'Who's John?'

'Well, he's mostly our gardener,' I say, embarrassed.

'Oh, yes. I can't imagine Danny Kilman doing the gardening,' she says.

'Do you do you have a big crush on Danny then? You were at the premiere last night.'

She hesitates. 'It's . . . complicated,' she says, in a very grown-up way, though she looks uncomfortable.

'It's OK. I think I'm getting a crush on Davie in Milky Star. I think he's cute.'

'Oh, yes. I like him too. He spoke to Mum and me last night.'

'Did he?'

'Yes, he did, honest.' She's peering through the trees towards the house. 'You've got the biggest garden in the whole world, Sunset!'

'How do you know my name?' I say, blushing.

She laughs at me. 'You're in all the celebrity magazines, silly.'

'I hate those things. I mean, I know my dad and my mum are in them and that's OK, because they're famous, but I just mess it up.

'You're famous too! And what are you on about? You always look great in the photos. You've got such lovely clothes. I love those red boots you've got and that little leather jacket! You're so lucky.'

She's still acting like she really means it. The leather jacket doesn't fit me properly any more: it's so small it cuts in under the arms. This girl's as tall as me but much thinner. It would probably fit her. Shall I offer her my jacket? But would she think me rude and patronizing? Would she be offended?

'Would you like a leather jacket like that?' I ask cautiously.

'That's a daft question!' she says, but she's laughing.

'Well . . .' I start, but she says something that distracts me.

'My absolute favourite photo of you is one where you're quite little and you're playing with Danny on the beach? Do you remember that one?'

I shake my head.

'Well, what about when baby Sweetie was just born, and you're playing with your doll's house. Do you remember that?'

'Oh, yes.'

'It was such a lovely doll's house, all pink and white. Is it Sweetie's now?'

I hesitate. 'Well, she's got all her own stuff.'

'So it's still in your bedroom?'

'It's in my wardrobe actually.'

'Hey, you must have a ginormous wardrobe! Do you sneak inside and have a little play with the doll's-house people when no one's around? I would!'

I nod, because I know she won't laugh. I wonder about inviting her right into the house, taking her up to my bedroom and showing her Wardrobe City. I know she'd love it. I'd introduce her to Mrs Furry and all her friends, and we could do the housework together and go to the shopping centre and hang out at the farm, me and my friend . . .

'What's your name?' I ask.

She hesitates, catching her teeth on her lower lip. 'Don't laugh,' she says.

'As if I would! You don't laugh at me, and Sunset's a very silly name.'

'It's Destiny. Destiny Williams.'

'That's that's a pretty name,' I say. I don't get it for a moment. Then, 'You mean, Destiny like my dad's song?'

'You are my Dest-in-eee,' she sings, raising her eyebrows. She's got a strange, lovely voice, very deep and grown up.

Then we both giggle.

'Imagine what it's like for me at school. I don't half get teased.'

'Oh, I do too,' I say, which is true, though there are lots of kids with odd names at Ridgemount House Kester, Bambi, Starling, Plum, Primavera . . . 'I hate school.'

'Me too. But you don't need to go to school, do you? Couldn't you have, like, a private tutor, seeing as you're so rich?'

'I wish! Yes, a tutor that just teaches stuff like art and English.'

'They're my favourites too!'

'It's weird, we've got so much in common,' I say.

'We have, haven't we!' She sounds thrilled too. 'We even look a bit alike, don't we? Do you think?'

I'm not so sure. We're both dark, I suppose, but she's thinner than me and looks older and much prettier. I wish I did look like her.

'Maybe we look a bit alike,' I say.

'Yes, we really do,' she says, and she's smiling all over her face now.

Then we hear someone calling, in a high, frightened voice.

'Destiny! Destiny, where are you?'

'Oh God, that's my mum,' says Destiny. She runs back through the trees towards the wall. 'It's OK, Mum, I'm here. I'm in the garden,' she calls.

'What? Whereabouts?' She sounds frantic.

Destiny runs right up to the wall and tries to climb up it, but she can't get a grip. She tries harder, but falls down, scraping her hands.

'Don't! You're hurting yourself. Come to the gate,' I say quickly. 'Oh, your poor hands!'

'It's OK, only a graze. I'm tough as old boots, me,' says Destiny. 'Mum, can you hear? Sunset says to go to the gate.'

'Sunset! You've met up with her at last!' she calls from the other side.

'You wanted to meet me?' I say to Destiny.

She shrugs. 'Perhaps my mum had better explain. She'll tell it all to Danny.'

I swallow. How will she talk to my dad? He doesn't talk to anyone he doesn't know. You have to set up a special meeting with him via Rose-May, his manager and then he mostly doesn't turn up, not unless it's for the media. And he doesn't even talk to us in the morning. We're not allowed to go near his bedroom before twelve, not even Sweetie.

I follow Destiny anxiously as she walks along beside the wall. She spots the swimming pool and raises her eyebrows. 'You've got your own huge swimming pool!' she says. 'Oh my God, it's guitar shaped. How cool is that!'

'It's a bit odd swimming in it with all those curvy edges,' I say. 'You can't do proper laps.'

'So you can swim OK then? I'm rubbish at it. I only went to our swimming baths once and someone pushed me under and the water went right up my nose, and I bawled my head off and wouldn't ever go back. So, you can lie out in your loungers after a swim and get suntanned and drink pina coladas?'

'Well, I don't have proper cocktails. I have this thing called Over the Rainbow it's all different juices and lots of fruity bits.'

'You really do have cocktails? You're not joking me?' Destiny shakes her head. Then she squints towards the house. 'Sunset, your house is massive! It's bigger than our entire block of flats. So which is your bedroom?'

'That window up in the turret bit.'

'Oh, that's exactly the room I'd choose. It's just like a fairy tale. Do you have to share it with Sweetie?'

'No, but she comes into my bed sometimes. And Ace does too not a good idea, because he sometimes wets it,' I say.

She laughs. 'I love all these things they leave out of Hi! Magazine,' she says.

Then we get to the gate and there's Destiny's mother, pressing against the iron railings. She's smaller than I remembered, not much bigger than us. Her ponytail makes her look like a little girl, yet her face is lined and eerily pale, and her eyes are staring so. It's hard not to feel a little frightened of her but Destiny rushes up to her and squeezes her hands through the narrow bars and pats her mum's thin shoulders.

'I'm so sorry I worried you, Mum. It's just you were so sound asleep and I thought I'd have a go at hitching myself up the wall to have a quick look and I spotted Sunset here, dancing in the garden'

'Making a fool of myself,' I say. 'How do you do, Mrs Williams.'

'Hello, dear,' she says softly. She looks from me to Destiny and back again, shaking her head. Tears start spilling down her cheeks.

'Don't cry, Mum!' says Destiny.

'It's just I'm scared I'm still dreaming,' she says, wiping her eyes quickly with her black-mittened fingers.

'You come in and be part of the dream,' says Destiny. She looks at me. 'She can come in, can't she?'

'Yes, yes, of course,' I say uncertainly.

Destiny tugs at the gate but it just rattles, not budging an inch. 'Tell us the security code then, Sunset.'

'I I don't really know it,' I say.

'You must know it, else how can you get into your own house?' says Destiny, staring at me.

'Well, the only time I'm out is when John or Claudia or Mum takes me in the car, and they just press this little zappy thing. But you can press another one indoors. I can go and press it now and the gate will open then,' I gabble. 'Stay there. I won't be a minute, I promise.'

'You will come back, won't you?' says Destiny sharply.

'Destiny!' says Mrs Williams, sounding shocked. 'Don't talk to Sunset like that!'

'No, it's all right. I promise I'll come back,' I say. I'll be less than a minute, you'll see.'

I turn and rush through the garden, round the swimming pool, past the flowerbeds and the play lawn with Sweetie's Wendy House and the jungle gym and the trampoline, across the patio, then round the back to the kitchen door. I'm scared Margaret might be there, or Claudia having an early cup of coffee, but the kitchen's completely empty, thank goodness. Maybe I can make Destiny and her mum a coffee, fix them some toast.

I won't actually take them into the house. I could bring their breakfast out into the garden we could all sit by the pool. Then I can try to explain that Dad won't actually come and talk to them, but I could find them a Danny Kilman signed photo instead. I know where there's a whole stack, and I could maybe find them a special-edition boxed set of CDs they'd love that.