To Catch a Prince by Gillian McKnight

To Catch a Prince by Gillian McKnight

Author:Gillian McKnight
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers
Published: 2005-11-19T16:00:00+00:00


Magda’s Magic

DID THE GIRLS go to Harrods to buy Helene a gown for the Royal Ball? No way. Did they go to Selfridges, the elite department store that Aunt Barbara treated like her very own closet? Not a chance. Did they visit the shops on Oxford High Street, the ones that you drool over as you walk by? Sorry. Alexis had moved beyond the stores mere mortals know about. Way beyond.

Very early on Sunday morning, Alexis confidently led Helene and Nichola through the twisted streets of Neal’s Yard, the hippie courtyard near Covent Garden. In a few hours the benches would be jammed with vegans munching on tofurkey sandwiches and faux fish and chips. Soon the stores along the curvy, cobblestone streets would be cluttered with fashionable shoppers buying Pumas in shades that wouldn’t be seen in America for another year. But now, at eight A.M., the streets were empty and the stores closed and dark.

Except for the Neal’s Yard Cheese Store. Here pleasantly muscled men were unloading large wheels of Jarlsberg and cheddar from trucks. With unusual confidence, Alexis walked directly in front of them and into the thickly scented air of the store. “Back door, please,” she said to the bemused, overallwearing guy behind the counter.

He grinned. “Let me escort you,” he said, as he led them into a walled-in garden behind the store. Then, he turned his back on the girls, filled a brass watering can at a spigot, and began watering the many potted herbs that cluttered the yard.

At this point Helene started losing faith. She’d gone without her morning latte, as they’d arrived before even Starbucks opened, so she was especially grumpy. She knew Alexis was learning a lot about fashion and style in her internship—much more, sadly, than Helene was learning about being an artist (unless you count the fine arts of mail sorting, tea making, file labeling, and Internet searching). But Alexis, despite her beauty and persuasion, had apparently hit a dead end. It was early and chilly, and Helene wanted coffee and perhaps a pastry, not cheese. Unless maybe it was a cheese Danish.

Nichola, on the other hand, was growing more impressed as each minute passed. She knew that the hidden shop in Neal’s Court was the stuff of legends. Aunt Barbara pshawed it as an urban myth and told Nichola to “stop carrying on about such nonsense.” But at their exclusive public school, Nichola’s classmates asserted its existence as vehemently as the Scots defend the Loch Ness monster. As the cheeseman moved from oregano to arugula, Nichola’s entire demeanor changed. Her usual scowl was replaced by wide-eyed wonder, and her sarcastic tone gave way to whispered delight. In a gesture of girlish excitement, she slipped a hand in Alexis’s.

Helene crossed her arms as the cheeseman placed the watering can on a wrought-iron table and wiped his wet hands on his overalls. “Hey, Lexy,” she said, rather loudly, “maybe it’s time for a little Plan B.”

Alexis simply smiled mysteriously and put a finger in front of her mouth, shushing her sister.



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