Catwalk Queen

by Cathy Hopkins

  Tom moved closer and I caught his scent. He always smelt good, the leather of his jacket mixed with something clean and woody. ‘Yes. I like the idea of dating a model.’

  ‘Is that right? That’s assuming I’d go on a date with you.’

  Tom’s eyes twinkled with mischief and as he moved in even closer, I felt a tingle of electricity. ‘And that’s assuming that I was referring to you.’

  I decided I’d play him at his own game. ‘Of course you were. You know you can’t resist me, Robertson. Just admit it then accept that I am out of your league and move on.’

  He cracked up, then stood back and looked right into my eyes. I wished he wouldn’t do that. It always had the same effect and right on cue, my stomach lurched pleasantly and I blushed. JJ, I told myself. Forget Tom. He’s playing. He only responds to a challenge, and will always do my head in. I took a step back and looked away as if I was getting bored.

  ‘Ah Hall, you heartbreaker you,’ he said and he put his hands to his heart. ‘Seriously though, have you heard yet?’

  ‘No. Soon. We got an automated reply saying entrants would hear by the end of next week. I won’t get through. There are thousands of people going in for it. Flo and I are doing it for a laugh really.’

  He put his arm around me. ‘Don’t be too modest. You got the height, the looks. You scrub up well.’

  ‘Scrub up well? Thanks a bunch.’

  ‘Charlie told me all about your session up chez Lewis. I saw some of the footage on his laptop when we got together for band practice. You looked hot. You should have let me know. I could have helped too.’

  I was never sure with Tom what his motives were and whether he wanted to come over to be with me or to hang out with me so he could see inside Porchester Park and get in with the richies.

  ‘Thanks. Actually we had a good team.’

  ‘I heard. I saw,’ said Tom. ‘And it sounds like I might have some competition. JJ, Alexei.’ He pulled a sad face and pushed out his bottom lip.

  ‘Yeah, like you care, Tom Robertson.’

  ‘But I do, Hall. You’re one of my favourite girls.’

  ‘Exactly, one of your favourites. Not your favourite.’

  ‘Ah. Now that wouldn’t be fair on all the others, would it? Imagine the hurt that would cause. The broken hearts. No. I have a duty to keep as many as possible happy.’

  I laughed. ‘You’re so arrogant. And you know what? The way you are, you don’t make anyone happy.’

  Tom scrutinised me. ‘Are you saying I’ve made you unhappy?’ He looked pleased and I realised I’d given away too much. I didn’t want him to know just how much he’d affected me. I flicked my hair over my shoulder and gave him a disdainful look. ‘You? As if. I just feel sorry for the suckers on your list.’

  Tom pretended to swoon. ‘You charmer you. Seriously though, you know you have my heart.’

  ‘Yeah. I keep it pickled in a jar in the fridge, behind the cheese and eggs.’

  Tom cracked up again. It was so weird. Now I felt cooler towards him, I could crack jokes. When I felt I wanted something from him, my brain turned to sludge.

  The dance. Yep. Back and forward we go, I thought as my bus appeared on the horizon. ‘Ciao,’ I said to Tom as I stuck my hand out for the bus to stop. ‘Have fun breaking hearts.’

  The next morning, I went to meet Keira. She’d sent me a message on Facebook asking to meet at eleven at a café near her house. Then a second message changing the time to ten forty-five.

  I arrived five minutes early. Ten forty-five came and went. Eleven. Eleven fifteen. I didn’t have her mobile number, nor did she have mine, so I decided to give her another quarter of an hour. I got out my jotter and doodled Tom’s name. I realised what I’d done so doodled JJ’s. I was about to leave when the café door opened and in Keira came, all smiles and a big wave. She sat opposite me, no apology, no explanation. She looked at my cup.

  ‘You had a drink already?’

  I wanted to say, yeah, course I have, I’ve been here for ages and you’re forty-five minutes late, but I didn’t. I nodded. ‘Yes. Latte.’

  ‘Are you going to have another?’

  ‘Oh. Er . . . Maybe.’

  ‘Great. Can you get me something when you go to the counter? I just got to make an urgent call. I’d like a hot chocolate. Large one. Thanks. And can you get me a sandwich? Cheese and tomato. I’m starving. I’ll pay you back. Is that OK?’

  ‘Pay me back?’

  ‘Yeah. I left my money at home, I was in such a rush to get here. Hey, it’s not a problem, is it?’

  I felt mean. ‘No. Course not.’ I checked my purse. I had just enough left of my pocket money.

  ‘Don’t look so worried, Jess. I’ll pay you back next time I see you. Promise. Unless you want interest on it that is.’ She laughed at her own joke but I didn’t find it funny. She’d managed to make me feel mean and distrusting and all in a couple of sentences. I’m going to get her sandwich, drink my drink, then I’m out of here and I don’t think I want to hang out with her even if she is just here for a month or so, I thought as I stood in the queue and watched her take out her mobile, call someone and talk to them while keeping an eye on me. She said something, kept looking over at me and laughed. I was sure she’d said something cruel about me. No-one else on the planet has this effect on me, I thought. I always feel wrong when I’m with Keira and I don’t know if it’s her or me. It’s weird.

  I brought our drinks back to the table and noticed she’d been flicking through my jotter but she closed it quickly then tucked into the sandwich with relish.

  ‘Thanks, you’re a hon,’ she said between mouthfuls. ‘So what’ve you been doing, Jess? Swimming?’ She said it in her usual mock tone. I decided that it was time to show her I’d moved on, grown up and wasn’t the kid she used to be able to push around

  ‘Actually, I’ve just entered a modelling competition,’ I said as I spooned froth off my drink.

  Her face registered a tiny flash of interest. ‘What? Like at school?’

  ‘No. It’s open for any teenager in London, aged fourteen to sixteen.’

  She stayed silent for a few moments as if thinking or not interested. ‘So how did you hear about this competition?’ she asked finally.

  ‘Someone where I live is sponsoring it.’

  ‘Like a girl-guide leader? Teacher?’

  ‘No. Her name’s Tanisha. You’ve probably heard of her.’

  Keira scoffed. ‘Oh course I’ve heard of the Tanisha. Pop star diva. So who’s your Tanisha.’

  I couldn’t help it. I was enjoying having one over her for a change. ‘Oh, she is the Tanisha.’

  Keira scoffed again. ‘Yeah right. As if. Like you’d live in the same place as her.’

  I raised an eyebrow, ever so cool. ‘My dad is general manager of a very upmarket apartment block in Knightsbridge and I mean, very upmarket.’

  Keira looked at me like she wasn’t sure if I was kidding. ‘What’s the competition called?’

  ‘Catwalk Teen Queen.’

  ‘I might Google it for a laugh when I get home. Open to anyone?’

  ‘You have to be over five foot eight and between fourteen and sixteen. My mates wanted to go in for it but Pia and Meg—’

  Keira laughed. ‘Are too small.’

  I suddenly realised that Keira wasn’t too small. She was perfect model material. I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. I should have kept my big mouth shut, I told myself. Why oh why do I always have to blurt everything out or show off?

  ‘And were you going to let me know about it?’

  ‘I just did,’ I blurted but I felt bad again, like I’d been holding out on her, and actually, I wished I had. ‘But I think you’ll have missed the deadline.’

  ‘Not my thing really,’ she said and she looked at my hot chocolate. ‘Better give up that if you’re serious, my dear. Bad for the skin and you know what they say, a moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips. Luckily, I’ve never had to worry abo
ut my weight.’ She glanced down at my stomach. Insinuating that I do, I thought.

  ‘So how’s your love life?’ she asked.

  No way was I going to tell her. ‘Non-existent. Yours?’

  She half smiled. ‘A work in progress.’

  Oh God, don’t let it be Tom, I thought as I remembered her standing watching my bus after she’d come to meet me at school. ‘So you’ve met someone?’

  ‘Early days.’

  ‘From your school?’

  Keira scoffed. ‘As if. Too young. Don’t you find? Schoolboys are so immature.’

  ‘Yeah. Some.’

  ‘But what about you? Anyone at your school you like?’

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘So who was the boy I saw blow you a kiss?’

  So she had noticed him, I thought. But she wouldn’t be asking who he was if she’d met him that day. ‘Oh him. Just a guy who’s full of himself, thinks every girl fancies him.’

  Keira scrutinised my face. ‘And do they?’

  ‘Some.’

  ‘Not you though.’

  ‘As if,’ I said. ‘I don’t like players. He’s the kind that only likes a challenge then moves on.’

  ‘Sounds like my kind of guy,’ said Keira, then she leant over and ruffled my hair. ‘Oh don’t worry. I’m not going to trespass on your territory.’

  ‘Not mi—’ I was about to object but Keira’s phoned bleeped that she had a text. She glanced down at it then got up to go. ‘Later,’ she said. ‘Thanks for the sandwich and good luck with your beauty pageant.’

  ‘It’s not a pageant, it’s a—’ But she’d gone. I sighed. Once again, she’d managed to belittle what I was doing as well as leave me six pounds out of pocket. She’d brought up so many feelings and all in the space of an hour. I felt mean because I resented her asking to borrow money when I didn’t have much to lend. Guilty because I felt mean about it. It was only a sandwich and a drink. Suspicious because I wondered if she was being honest about Tom. Angry because she’d been so late, like my time didn’t matter but her time did. Thank God for Pia, Meg, Flo and Alisha, my mates in a million, I thought. I never feel like this around them.

  7

  Round One

  The news came by email. No fanfare. No posh letter. Just:

  Dear Jessica Hall,

  Congratulations.

  You’ve made it through to the first round of the competition. Out of 2000 entrants, fifty girls have been chosen. Please be at No 300–320, Atlas Buildings on Saturday . . .

  The rest of the message was a blur as I reached for the phone to call Pia.

  ‘Unbelievable,’ I said.

  ‘No it isn’t, it’s totally believable. I told you you’d make it,’ she said. ‘Flo’s through too. She just texted me. The boys did such a great job with your shots, the competition organisers couldn’t have said no to either of you.’

  I couldn’t deny the thrill I felt. I was in. One of the chosen fifty! I read the rest of the letter then called Flo to compare notes. What were we going to wear? Where to meet? It felt unreal, as if my fairy godmother had appeared, waved her wand and declared, ‘You shall go to the ball.’

  All too soon, it was the big day and Flo and I met outside the tube station at Kensington High Street then went to find Atlas Buildings in a nearby side street where we joined the line of girls waiting to go in. Dad had insisted that Aunt Maddie accompany me and Flo’s elder sister, Emma, came along with her. At first I thought I’d feel embarrassed to have a chaperone but it looked as if loads of girls had come with one of their parents or guardian. We were all well wrapped up because even though it was March and the sky was bright blue, it was bitterly cold, so cold that Emma and Aunt Maddie went off to the café opposite to get hot drinks. I was so pleased that Flo was with me to chat to as the door opened and the group began to file in. I could see that everyone felt excited to be there, all of us eyeing each other up, wondering what was going to happen. Some girls looked very glamorous in high heels and loads of make-up. Flo and I had chosen to wear just a little shadow and lipgloss and both of us had decided to come dressed in our normal clothes so that we felt comfortable. Under our jackets, I was in my jeans and a coral-coloured jumper and Flo was wearing her jeans and a pale grey jumper with a pink scarf.

  ‘Some of these girls are stunning,’ Flo commented as we watched a tall blonde girl in front of us with cheekbones like cut glass brush her long silken hair. ‘Oh God. I’m so nervous.’

  ‘Me too. This isn’t hanging out with mates and playing dressing up, this is for real.’

  Flo nodded. ‘Though it feels totally unreal.’

  ‘Exactly,’ I agreed. ‘Henry made us look so fab in the photos he sent, I hope the judges won’t be disappointed when they see me in the flesh. Maybe I should have dressed up more.’

  ‘Maybe not. From what I’ve read about models, you have to show that you can do different looks according to what clothes you’re wearing and what the modelling job is so it probably doesn’t make that much difference what we turn up in today. We’re supposed to be like blank canvases and the judges will be looking for versatile as well as photogenic.’

  ‘I can juggle, tennis balls,’ I said. ‘Do you think that might show that I’m versatile and impress them? Show them I can do different things? Maybe I should show them I can lick my eyebrows?’

  ‘Yeah, right,’ said Flo. ‘And I can do cartwheels and card tricks.’

  Once inside, we gave our names at a desk, were given numbers then were put into groups of ten by a striking black lady with short hair who introduced herself as Suzie and who seemed to be in charge. Sadly Flo wasn’t going to be in my group. As we waited to hear what was to happen next, I looked around at the other girls.

  ‘Oh my God times two!’ I said as I spotted Keira at the far end of the room. What’s she doing here? I wondered. She looked amazing and even in the group of model wannabes, she stood out in a black romper suit, black leggings, black Ugg boots and bright red scarf.

  ‘Who is it?’ asked Flo as Keira waved and began to come over.

  ‘Someone I used to know in junior school,’ I said.

  ‘Surprise,’ said Keira and air-kissed me. ‘Mwah, mwah.’

  ‘Keira, hi,’ I said and introduced her to Flo. ‘What are you doing here?’

  She looked as if I’d insulted her. ‘What am I doing here? Excuse me? Same as you. I got through.’

  ‘But the deadline?’

  ‘Oh that? You know me. I blagged my way in – told them some story about my computer being down and they were cool with it. I don’t give up when I’ve decided I want something.’

  ‘Yes of course but . . . why didn’t you message me?’ I asked.

  ‘Why didn’t you message me?’

  ‘I . . . Oh. I thought you said it wasn’t your thing. I—’

  Keira laughed and waved her hand as if dismissing that conversation. ‘That was before I realised this was a big number. You weren’t joking. The Tanisha no less! I looked the competition up online. Way to go, Jess.’ She turned to Flo. ‘She was holding out on me.’

  ‘No I wasn’t. I told you exactly what was happening.’

  Keira laughed. ‘Chill, Jess. Just teasing you.’ She turned to Flo and talked to her as if I wasn’t there. ‘She’s so easy to wind up, isn’t she?’

  Flo linked arms with me. ‘But why would you want to do that?’

  Keira ignored her comment and turned back to me. ‘I thought you were kidding when you said you lived in the same place as Tanisha. I’d better come and check it out soon, least when you finally get round to inviting me that is.’

  ‘I—’ I didn’t know what to say and couldn’t think fast enough. I hadn’t held out on her and she’d only been back in the country a short time and, come to think of it, she hadn’t invited me to her house either! Not that I’d want to go. As always around Keira, I felt wrong-footed and uncomfortable.

  Keira looked at me and laughed again. ‘Your face, Jess. It was a picture
when you saw me! Sorry I didn’t let you know I’d entered but I didn’t want to get you worried about being competition too early on.’

  Suzie began to call the first group to go through and Keira heard her name.

  ‘See you later, guys. May the best man win,’ she said and went off to join her group.

  ‘I wasn’t holding out on her—’ I started.

  Flo squeezed my arm. ‘Hey, you don’t have to explain yourself to me. Anyway, I don’t like her.’

  ‘Why not?’ I asked. It was very unusual for Flo to dislike anyone. She usually saw the good side of everyone.

  She shrugged. ‘There was a girl like her at my junior school. A mean girl who always dissed everyone behind their back and even to their faces. Her only way to make herself feel better was to put everyone down. At first, people thought she was funny but after a while, it grated. She was always so negative. Keira’s just like her, it was like she was trying to make you feel uncomfortable.’

  ‘She does have that effect,’ I said. ‘I don’t know what I feel when I’m with her. Odd, that’s for sure.’ Part of me wished I hadn’t mentioned the competition to Keira but it was too late, she was in. Never mind, I told myself, I probably won’t get through after today then won’t have to see her again.

  Flo’s name was called next and she went off to join her ten. She pulled a face as she went. She didn’t want to be separated either.

  I sat on a bench and texted Aunt Maddie that we were fine and would meet her outside later. While I waited for my group to be called, I tried to get chatting with a pretty girl with short dark spiky hair.

  ‘I won’t get through,’ I said. ‘My nose is too big and I have a tummy.’

  I thought she’d join in like my mates did when we had a down-on-ourselves conversation. She didn’t. She gave me a disdainful look. ‘Why did you enter if you don’t think you’ve got what it takes?’ she asked. ‘Moaning about the way you look won’t wash here. They want confidence.’ She got up and moved away as if I was a bad smell. I listened in to a couple of other girls who were talking nearby.