AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry for the long delay between updates, I've been busy working on other writing projects and getting back into original fiction.

This story is based on an original idea by Skykat

You, Being One of the Beautiful People, are Cordially Invited to Hayley Smith's Strictly No Dags, Dropkicks or Uglies

***Party of the Year***

Chapter 50

OMENS

"Megsy? You okay? Because… because I'm not."

Gypsy smiled a sad little fleeting smile that haunted her beautiful green eyes like the shadow of dreams long past. She had stopped to wait for Megan as they explored the long disused River Restaurant that stank of decay and echoed with the lonely lapping of the river, its windows filthy and broken, its walls stained with mould, and lost forever the glitz and glamour that were the hallmark of its grand yesterdays.

She glanced briefly at their companions. Jack, Noah and Kit were still fooling around, pretending to scare one other in the moonlight-streaked darkness. Kit was screaming in mock fear as Noah trailed a cobweb along her neck, while a rat the size of a small kitten, that had sat unseen on an upturned table, twitching its whiskers at the interesting new scents pervading the night air, scurried away to slither under the same gap through which it had entered, its soft furry body brushing against Jack's ankle as it fled, making him first cry out and then laugh at his fear.

Only a few minutes ago Gypsy too had been laughing.

And then a strange, low whistling noise had made her turn. Seeing Megan staring out through the dirt-encrusted, broken windows, she followed her gaze, and she too watched in silence as a glowing, green-tinged light hovered over Whitelady Woods before curving in on itself and disappearing before their very eyes.

"You saw it?" Megan whispered back, a rare note of surprise creeping into her voice. She had inherited the gift of second sight from her grandmother and she was used to seeing and hearing strange sights and sounds. But, just as her grandmother had said, very, very few other people would ever share the same experience. And then only if…

Gypsy nodded, speaking in the same hushed tones. "And heard it. None of the others did though. What does it mean?"

She couldn't explain even to herself why she hadn't screamed or yelled out a warning although her heart had been - still was - beating nineteen to the dozen. But something deep inside her told her that only she and Megan had seen something. And it wasn't Jack she wanted to comfort her, it was…

The boy who's heart she'd broken over and over. The boy she'd mocked, hated, treated so bad. Till in the end, Will walked away. Even though she loved him.

"I don't know," Megan said, shaking her head helplessly. "I only wish I did. But the very fact you saw it must mean there's something you have to do, something you have to know…"

Megan tried in vain to make sense of the vague images that ran too quickly through her mind like a glimpse of some up and coming movie the producers were keen to entice an audience to watch without giving away anything of the story. Whitelady Woods. The moonlit river. The Ancient Path. "I know it was the White Lady, I know it was Lady Eleanor, but…" Gypsy was shaking like a leaf caught in a breeze and Megan squeezed her hand. "Oh, Gyps! It doesn't always mean death to the person who sees her, it doesn't, it doesn't, despite what the legend claims."

"If anyone had told me a few days ago that I'd be taking notice of signs and symbols, I'd have said they were crazy." Gypsy spoke as though she'd lately been running, her words punctuated by quick, small breaths, her face, already shiny from the greasepaint she'd applied, eerily white in the moonlight filtering in through the jagged, broken glass. "But I'm the crazy one," she added, shivering. I've let the only guy I ever loved go forever."

"Maybe not forever," Megan said. "We…"

And then suddenly there was much more than moonlight. There was a glow as strong as though the sun had burst out of the sky and fallen to the earth, as, roaring and sparking, the fire rolled in a carpet of furious red and orange flames towards Whitelady Woods...

*****

They had been so deep in conversation it was only now they became aware of the confusion downstairs. Of people running, shouting, screaming.

Cassie sprang to her feet at the same time as there came a tremendous pounding on the door.

"Open it, open it!" Hayley yelled, beside herself with fear. "It'll be someone to rescue us!"

But Cassie didn't need to unlock the door. Before she reached it, the handle shattered and the door burst open with a final thud. A figure clad in motorbike gear, his face masked by a scarf, only his eyes visible, shoved Cassie aside and, caught by surprise, she toppled to the floor, banging her head on the corner of the dressing table, blood spurting from her temple.

Hayley froze in terror as he came towards her, his bloodshot eyes expressionless, reeking of alcohol and obviously high. She screamed as he lunged at her, but he pressed his hand hard against her mouth, stifling her screams, forcing her backwards.

"Payback time, Princess Pricktease," he sneered, throwing her roughly on to the bed, and she screamed again only for her head to be jerked backwards, her neck cricking painfully, as he clamped his hand over her mouth once more. She tried in vain to fight him off, pushing, biting, scratching, but he was much, much stronger, his free hand tearing at her clothes…