Page 20 of Under Your Spell

‘Ugh. Fine,’ I groan, pulling myself to my feet. ‘Show me the outfit options.’

‘Yay!’ Lil’s eyes brighten and she dives for the pile of clothes. The next ten minutes are spent cat-walking several different ensembles across her tiny, but dazzlingly expensive central London flat. We finally settle on a rainbow-striped silk jumpsuit which looks amazing on her.

‘Hair up or down?’ she asks.

I tip my head, considering. ‘Down.’

She nods. ‘I’ll curl it a bit, I think. Loose waves?’

‘Perfect,’ I agree.

Lil hands me a sheet mask to put on my face while she curls her hair and does her make-up. Her eyeshadow is bright pink and sparkly, and while I do the back of her hair, she sticks little star-shaped gems around her eyes. When she’s done, she beams at me. She looks like a glamorous My Little Pony. ‘Now, what about you?’

‘Oh,’ I gesture towards the bookshop tote bag that I shoved all my stuff in. ‘I’ve got jeans and a nice top in there.’

Lil’s look is withering. ‘Jeans?’

‘And a nice top,’ I say defensively. After all, I even showered for this event.

My sister rolls her eyes. ‘It’s a good job I took matters into my own hands.’

I am instantly suspicious. ‘What does that mean?’

Lil flicks me a quick grin and then disappears into her bedroom, emerging triumphantly clutching a whisper of fabric covered in gold sequins. ‘I made you a dress!’

‘Nope,’ I say, shutting this down immediately. It’s not that Lil can’t sew – Petty taught her how to make her own clothes when we were teenagers – it’s that her taste has always been significantly more daring than mine and this led to some questionable fashion choices in the mid-noughties.

‘Come on, Clemmie.’ Lil sticks out her bottom lip, big blue eyes looking at me all hopeful. ‘At least try it on, I worked really hard on it.’

I feel like an ungrateful, heartless witch and cave immediately. ‘Okay.’ I hold out my hand. ‘I’ll see if it fits.’

Lil’s face lights up with victory and I’m reminded yet again that she has us all wrapped around her little finger. People think Serena is the one to worry about, but Serena has the subtlety of a steamroller. Our whole family will tell you that Lil is much more likely to talk you into doing her bidding without you even realizing the whole thing wasn’t your own idea.

‘Oh, it will fit,’ she says confidently now. ‘I made it to show off all those curves. Just trust me, you’re going to look ridiculously hot.’

I strip off to my underwear and then tangle with the dress, which I’m pleased to see has a decent amount of stretch in it. When I finally get it over my head and tug it over my chest, the material slithers softly down my sides. It fits like a dream.

Lil starts squealing at a pitch only dogs can hear. ‘Oh my God, amazing!’ She takes my hand and pulls me over to the mirror.

I look doubtfully at my reflection, tugging at the hem of the dress. ‘It’s really beautiful Lil, but don’t you think it’s a bit short?’

The dress is lovely, completely covered in gold sequins, with long sleeves and a sweetheart neckline that sits wide on my shoulders and shows off a decent amount of cleavage. It hugs every curve, clings lovingly across my soft belly, over my hips. It’s also the sort of length that we used to roll our school uniform skirts up to, in order to scandalize our teachers.

‘You look gorgeous,’ Lil says firmly. ‘And honestly you’ll blend in much better at this party in that dress than you would in a pair of jeans. Don’t forget it’s going to be all Serena’s super-glam work friends, and they don’t know the meaning of the word casual.’

I am well aware that my sister knows how to manage me, but this is exactly the right thing to say. If she thinks dressing me up as a disco ball will help me fade into the background, then I’m all for it.

‘Okay,’ I sigh. ‘If you’re sure.’

‘Of course I am. Now let me do your hair and make-up and then we can call an Uber.’

I don’t bother arguing as Lil twists my hair, braiding it up in a loose crown on top of my head and leaving a few wavy tendrils to fall on my bare shoulders. She puts some magic stuff on my skin that makes it smooth and shimmery, pencils in perfect flicks of black eyeliner, and then paints my lips a dark, vampy crimson.

‘There,’ Lil says, finally satisfied as we stand side by side in the mirror. ‘Let’s take a picture.’ She snaps a photo of us on my phone and swiftly uploads it to Instagram.

‘Len’s not the only one moving on, Clemmie,’ she says softly.

I take the phone from her outstretched hand and look at the post. She’s captioned it with an orange emoji and a flower emoji, and we look great. Arms around each other, matching heart-shaped faces and clear-eyed grins. I feel my spirits lift.