The Wish List. Sophia Money-Coutts

      ‘What time tomorrow? Can I do your make-up?’ said Mia.

      ‘Afternoon. And yes, but can you not make me look mad? Nothing too over-the-top. You know I don’t wear much make-up.’

      ‘Oh, Flo, stop fussing. A bit of eyeshadow never killed anyone.’

      ‘Who is he though, darling?’ persisted Patricia. ‘Do you know anything about him? Is he safe?’

      ‘I can’t tell you anything else,’ I said, shrugging. ‘Only that he’s called Rory and he likes books.’

      ‘Rory, what an excellent name!’

      ‘Just remember we’re dressing you for it,’ said Mia sternly, before looking at herself in the mirror. The dress was sleeveless with a skirt that billowed to the floor and was covered in little crystals. ‘Fuck no, not this one. I look like I’m going to my prom.’