‘He’s never been married. I think there was someone serious years ago, but he has his fair share of female ‘companions’ that he goes out for dinner with and the odd weekend away.’
‘Oo-er missus.’
‘Indeed. He’s a dark horse, is our Bernard. But such a nice guy.’ Jayne started filling two cafetières with boiling water, ‘Can you get the milk jug out of that bottom cupboard? Anyway, it should be me asking you how you are doing, your first Christmas in England. How does it measure up?’
‘It’s a lot more civilised than I’m used to, that’s for sure! But I thought I’d miss being home, but now that most of my brothers and sisters are married it makes sense to have one year on, one off – gives my ma and da a chance to put their feet up and hear what’s happening on the telly rather than just watching the moving pictures while all hell breaks loose around them.’ Abi leant back against the counter and crossed her arms, watching Jayne pile cups and saucers onto a tray. ‘Are you sure you’re okay? You’re quite quiet today. Is it just your ma, or is something else bothering you?’
‘No, honestly, I’m just a bit, you know, it’s just a bit weird, all this–’ Jayne spread her arms out and let them drop limply to her sides. ‘You know what Crystal just said about me not being photographed–’
‘I thought you just said you’re not taking any notice of her?’
‘I’m not, it’s not her, it’s something Will said that’s just been niggling at me. I know I’m just being really paranoid, but he said the other day that his agent woman has told him to tell people that he’s single.’
‘Ri-ght …’ Abi said slowly, ‘and what did he say when she said that?’
‘I don’t know, really. He hasn’t told anyone about us yet, which I’m quite pleased about because you know I’m quite a private person, but also, it just makes me wonder if the agent is advising him to do that because I’d let him down in some way?’
‘That’s rubbish. Think about it from her view. She’s got this good-looking guy on her books and, yes, he probably does get more interest if sad, delusional women thought they stood a chance with him. Once a girlfriend pops out of the woodwork, they might lose interest, and if the viewers lose interest, so do the networks, and now all she’s got is a good-looking bloke who no one wants to book. Take it as a compliment that you’ve bagged the guy everyone currently dreams of being with. Seriously, Jayne, shut up, give me a hug and go and serve everyone cold coffee.’
Jayne pushed open the lounge door with her bum in time to hear Will solemnly ask in his best question-master voice, ‘Which tree provided the apple for Adam and Eve?’
‘Apple tree! The apple tree!’ shouted Trish. Everyone collapsed in laughter at the poor woman’s expense. Her cheeks were glowing scarlet as she looked around the room saying, ‘What? What did I say?’
‘The Tree of Knowledge,’ purred Kyra from the beanbag that she shared with Rachel, their outstretched legs clad in a matching black-leather skinny trousers that brought back bad shopping memories for Jayne.
‘Right answer, but it wasn’t your question I’m afraid, Kyra, so no cheese this time, better luck next time, fingers on buzzers please as we go into the next round,’ He seemed to be enjoying this rather too much, but at least if the cookery lark dried up, then Jayne thought he may have a future as the host of University Challenge.
‘What is a group of bears called?’
‘Ooo, ooo I know this, is it a hug?’ Dave shouted.
‘Wow, you two really are made for each other, aren’t you?’ Crystal drawled from her armchair, where Abi, true to her word, was perched on the arm, as close as she could get to her without actually sitting in her lap.
Will was laughing so much he clutched his stomach, ‘Dad, do you seriously think that a group of bears is called a hug?’
‘Isn’t that where the term bear-hug comes from?’ Dave replied innocently. Trish’s head was nodding her support.
‘I’m throwing this open to the room, not for cheese, just for fun. Jayne, your chosen career disqualifies you from this round, I’m afraid, but everyone else, you have five seconds, four, three …’
Huge platters of cheese and biscuits with carafes of port sat on the coffee table as everyone loaded up their plates, amidst many procrastinations of still being full from lunch. Crystal was the first to leave to go back to their B&B, citing sheer boredom for her early exit from the festivities. As she left the room, so did the blanket of unease that seemed to follow her around like a storm cloud, so the remainder of the evening relaxed into a stress-free few hours.
Stanley had apologised to Jayne again about Crystal’s behaviour, offering up bewildered excuses as to the apparent transformation in his young wife. He didn’t seem to realise that he was the one deserving of the pity and sympathy, not her. Jayne watched him sat amiably at the dining table playing canasta with Helen; she really hoped that Crystal would leave him with a modicum of his dignity still intact, but knew that this was extremely unlikely.
Will sidled up to Jayne, passing her a plate of sliced Brie and Edam, knowing that she didn’t like the ‘mouldy ones’ like Stilton. ‘Do you know what? Kyra’s actually really nice when you get talking to her,’ he said.
‘Really?’
‘Really. She’s just been telling me all about her childhood: she grew up in Singapore, how cool’s that?’
‘Pretty darn cool.’ Jayne cheerily replied. Really? Really? If the never-ending legs and kink-free hair wasn’t enough, she now threw in an exotic upbringing too.
‘I think the day’s gone quite well, all things considered,’ he continued, popping a grape into his mouth. ‘Dad and Trish seemed to have fun. As they were leaving Dad even had tears in his eyes. I think this whole TV thing is a bit overwhelming for him.’
‘Bless him, he’s so proud of you.’
‘I’m really glad they were here today. Actually I think everyone seemed to have fun. Did you?’
‘Of course! And thank you for not saying what I know you wanted to say about Crystal coming. But you and Rachel were right; it was a rubbish idea, and one that I won’t be repeating next year. Miserable old tramp.’ Jayne leant over and kissed him. ‘Happy Christmas, you delicious specimen of a man, you.’
He smiled, ‘Happy Christmas … Jayne.’ He laughed as she pretended to head-butt him.
Chapter 14
They’d been in Westfield for five and half hours, with only a short pause for two double espressos and a low-fat blueberry muffin each. But that was three hours ago and Jayne was slowly losing the will to live. Shuffling after her sister, who ran from rail to rail, her eyes darting left to right, up and down, giving each the briefest of once-overs before announcing that they were moving onto the next store. ‘I think I’m going to go back for the navy-blue one with the sash,’ Jayne ventured, more out of a desire to end the day, rather than a burning love for the blue one with the sash.
‘Hmmm, no. I can’t let you go to the National Television Awards in a dress from Coast. Oh, look, there’s Ghost, let’s go there.’
‘Ghost is Coast with only three letters changed.’
‘Jayne. Can you please start taking this seriously? I’ve given up a whole Saturday to take you shopping–’
‘Shut up! You love this! It’s hardly a massive sacrifice for you. You’d probably be here anyway, even if I wasn’t here!’
‘You’re not understanding the huge-ity of this!’
‘Huge-ity is not a word.’
Rachel ignored her and continued, ‘Jayne, in four days’ time you’re going to be walking up a red carpet next to Will. Will, who all the heterosexual women, and all the homosexual men, have currently put at the top of their ‘Man I’d like to sleep with the most’ list. You have to look amazing, and in order to look amazing, you have to take this seriously.’
Jayne fingered the nude silk under the plastic that she’d been too afraid to remove in case she tripped while carrying a cup of tea and spilled it all over it. It was the single-most e
xpensive item she’d ever bought. But it was beautiful. As soon as she’d drawn the zip up and looked in the changing-room mirror she knew. She’d never felt that before about an item of clothing, but then clothes shopping for her normally just consisted of nipping in quickly to M&S for a pack of five high-leg knickers in her lunch break. If this was the thrill that Rachel got every time she bought a new designer outfit or pair of shoes she could see how shopping could become addictive.
Looking down at the fabric, she glimpsed her hands, which she almost didn’t recognise as her own. Rachel had insisted on her having a hot-oil treatment and a French manicure, and they looked amazing. She had made a vague attempt at asking why it was necessary to have soft-looking hands, but she knew there was no point arguing with her sister when she was on a mission. Beneath her Ugg boots, Jayne had had a matching pedicure too. Even though she was wearing closed-toe sandals tonight, apparently it was all about you yourself knowing that you looked beautiful from head to toe. ‘Make sure you wax your lady bits as well,’ Rachel had ordered. ‘There’s no point you looking all glam on the outside and then underneath being a hairy mammoth.’
At half past four she was finally ready to go. Her hair had been lovingly teased by the hairdresser on the high street into hundreds of cascading, tight black curls that hung loose around her shoulders. The delicate nude tones of the floor-length gown had subtle diamante edging along the bust, which admittedly she was a little paranoid about at first. ‘Shouldn’t I be trying to hide the girls, rather than draw attention to them with fake diamonds?’ she asked Rachel and Abi as the two of them bustled around her, plumping up the skirt and removing imaginary bits of fluff.
‘Absolutely not! You are all woman and you are gorgeous!’ Abi defiantly replied. If Will’s wide eyes and open mouth was anything to go by when she glided into the living room, where he was waiting in a new Tom Ford tux, he thought so too.
‘Wow, wow, wow. You look sensational!’
Holding her skirt out at the sides, she bobbed a small curtsey. ‘Why thank you, kind sir, you scrub up quite well yourself.’
She had ignored Rachel’s pleas for her to leave her glasses behind; she was firmly putting function over form as far as eyesight was considered. On a practical level, she reduced the risk of falling flat on her face considerably if she could actually see where she was walking, but also, she wanted to take in every moment, to see every famous face up close, not as distorted blurs.
She couldn’t quite believe that they were going to an awards ceremony. When Good Morning received the news that it was nominated for Most Popular Daytime Show Michaela’s PR machine went into overdrive, making sure that Will’s place on one of their three tables was secure. He hadn’t told Jayne quite how disappointed Michaela was that he wanted Jayne to be his plus one and not her, but she’d heard his end of the phone call behind the hastily closed kitchen door. Disappointment may be the wrong word, she reasoned, more like white-hot rage. Of course she’d offered to sit this one out in the name of keeping the peace, while inwardly begging him to choose substance over style, and thankfully he said that not taking her was never an option.
He looked so handsome in his tux. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him wear cufflinks before – she actually didn’t even know he owned any. Against his earlier reservations, he’d visited Fernando again earlier in the day to get the gel-to-hair ratio just right, and as their car drew up to the hordes of clipboard-carrying officials, autograph-book-clutching fans and jostling photographers, they looked at each other, took deep breaths and smiled. ‘Ready?’ Will asked.
‘Ready.’
The flashes almost made Jayne take an involuntary step back. She remembered the pre-show warnings to viewers with photosensitive epilepsy that were broadcast before celebrity entertainment shows and now realised why. A constant stream of harsh white flickers assaulted her eyes, while shouts of ‘Will!’, ‘Will, over here!’ seemed to come from all directions, invisible strings pulling them everywhere.
Beautiful women in evening dresses held microphones, cooing Will over to them with their siren songs, wanting to know where his suit was from, how he’s feeling tonight, who he wants to win, where was his suit from, how is he feeling, who he’s tipping to win, who designed his suit, how he feels to be there, which show does he think will win. Two minutes of identical footage for every single network.
Just behind them a massive wave of excitement surged from the crowd as a Hollywood A-lister and her musician husband emerged from their limousine. Stewards with curled wires that ran from their ear down inside their shirt collars tried to make some room on the bustling red carpet, flapping people back with their rolled-up running orders, speaking into buzzing handsets. Jayne watched the organised mayhem with undisguised awe. The serenity of the actress was breathtaking: her poise, her easy candour with the paparazzi, who begged her for ‘just one more shot’. At what point did dealing with all of this become so effortless?
Will and Jayne tried to stand back to allow the pair to glide through the throng, and as they came shoulder to shoulder the actress broke her composure and gasped: ‘You’re the chef from YouTube! I loved your videos, we even made the goat’s cheese bruschetta for a dinner party and everyone raved about it for ages.’
‘Turn around! Can we have a picture?’
Jayne felt the actress put her slender arm around her shoulders as she turned to face the swarm of lenses, the four of them stood in a line. Will between the rock star and the movie starlet, she on the end. The thunderous click of hundreds of shutters all released at the same time was deafening. Absolutely unbelievable. It all happened so quickly, even after the power couple had been ushered along the red carpet, Will and Jayne stood in a stunned silence, unwilling to take a further step in case it all dissolved into a daydream.
Will broke the silence, ‘Shit a brick.’
‘Oh my days.’
‘That was insane.’
‘She touched my shoulder. Will, she touched my shoulder!’
He grinned like a lunatic, nodding his head, before shaking it in disbelief. They made my bruschetta, MY bruschetta. At a dinner party. They made my bruschetta!’
‘I’m calling everyone I’ve ever met to tell them about this. They’re not going to believe this! It’s one thing to even come to something like this and then to have someone like that put their arms around us!’
‘Let’s go in first, find our table and then text everyone we know.’
In the end, Good Morning lost out to an after-watershed talk show but nothing could dampen Jayne’s high spirits. She beamed the whole way through the awards. Applauding wildly whenever anyone won, sitting open-mouthed and star-struck whenever a television personality walked past, regardless of whether they acted in the country’s most-popular soap, or introduced each new cartoon on Cbeebies.
She drank in the heady atmosphere of glamour, marvelling at the long, shimmering dresses and the short, gusset-skimming ones. She accepted flute after flute of expensive champagne and declared to Will in the taxi home that it had been the single most exciting night of her life.
Normally Will put his phone on silent during the night, but the number of mojitos he’d knocked back coupled with the post-2am bedtime meant they were both rudely woken just after 6am with his shrill ringtone. Rubbing his eyes and flinching at the narrow stream of sunlight that filtered through the middle of the curtains that he hadn’t quite pulled together he answered gruffly, ‘Yes?… Michaela, what the …?’
Jayne rolled over and squinted at him, wiping the sleep and clumps of last night’s mascara from her eyes.
‘You’re kidding me?… No way! Ha ha, no, we were literally just standing there and she started talking to us!… That’s awesome … okay, yes, I’ll keep it next to me.’
Pressing the end key, he looked across at Jayne, who had now sat up in bed, the covers pulled up to make a vague attempt at covering her nakedness. ‘You’re not going to believe this. That was Michaela. You know that picture we had tak
en last night?’
‘Which one?’
‘The one with possibly the most-photographed couple in the world?’
‘Of course,’ Jayne yawned, ‘I was being facetious.’
‘It’s been picked up by the American press and it’s on every entertainment site everywhere! Like, literally everywhere. Michaela said that I should sack her and do my own PR if this is what I can pull out of the bag. Come on, where’s your iPad? Are you ready to see yourself standing next to the world’s most famous actress?’
Jayne’s heart started thumping; it hadn’t really registered with her that the reason they were all standing huddled together was for a photograph that might then appear somewhere. For her the thrill began and ended with that moment. She felt a bit foolish for not realising that her claim to fame was being captured for mass circulation. She ran naked to her dressing table and grabbed the iPad, legging it back across the cold bedroom floor and under the covers next to Will.
‘Oh my God, what if I look awful? What if I’m blinking?’ Jayne could feel and see her hands shaking a bit as she held the screen, waiting for it to connect to the Internet.
‘You looked amazing, shut up. What are we looking up first?’
‘Why don’t we just Google Will Scarlet and see what comes up?’
‘Okay. I’m so glad it’s just us here. I don’t want anybody else to know I Googled myself.’ Will was hugging his knees with excitement as the search pages loaded. ‘I’ve got a Wikipedia page! How the hell have I got a Wikipedia page?’
‘Oh my God, you’re mentioned on thousands of web pages!’ Jayne scrolled down the screen in disbelief, shrieking, ‘Will, look, you’re on all these websites – there’s pages and pages of them!’
‘Click on images and see what comes up.’ His voice sounded a little unnatural, as though he had something stuck in his throat. Jayne put her hand over his and he tightened his grip on her fingers. Suddenly the whole screen was taken up with Will’s face. The first one, with hundreds of thousands of hits, was the picture from last night with him between the two A-listers.
Me, You and Tiramisu Page 15
