‘I look like a temporary secretary in an accounting firm, ’ Lola summed up.
‘Exactly!’ David clapped his hands with pride. ‘That’s exactly what I was going for! But wait for it . . . final touches coming up . . .’
With the excitement of a conjuror about to pull off a major trick for the first time, he reached into his large shopping bag and produced what looked like the cut-off toe of a pair of beige support tights.
‘It’s a wig cap, ’ he explained, seeing Lola’s bafflement.
He smoothed down her hair and pulled the wig cap over it, carefully tucking in each blonde strand till it was perfectly smooth. Then he produced a pale brown wig, and, his expression as serious as if he were performing a heart transplant, hooked it over his thumbs, positioned it on her forehead, and flipped it over her skull, patting it down with his palms until it was just right. He secured it with a couple of bobby pins and stepped back, his expression quietly triumphant.
The wig was the ugliest thing Lola had ever seen. It made the cheap trouser suit look like Balenciaga by comparison. David’s bobby pins had taken the shoulder-length hair back on either side, pinning it up above her ears, which succeeded, eerily, in making the wig look all too authentic.
Carefully, she put up a hand to touch it.
‘It’s real hair, ’ David said proudly. ‘Cost a fortune, believe it or not.’
‘Eww . . .’ Lola said in repulsion. ‘I’m wearing someone else’s hair on my head?’
‘Darling, it has to be real! That acrylic stuff looks so fake! We’ve got to get you past the paparazzi and, believe me, your disguise has to be perfect!’ David’s eyes were gleaming with excitement. ‘Let’s show Jean-Marc!’
Jean-Marc, who had been forbidden from watching Lola’s transformation from beautiful princess into Cinderella secretary, so that he could comment on the post-makeover effect, was where he was usually to be found these days: lying on the sofa watching daytime TV on the gigantic built-in plasma screen. Right now, it was Judge Judy, who was telling a woman severely never to lend a jailbird boyfriend her credit card. Jean-Marc, tucked up in a pale blue cashmere throw which exactly matched the colour of his eyes, sipping vitamin water, looked enthralled by Judge Judy and her no-nonsense attitude: he looked up briefly as David and Lola came into the sitting-room, his eyes flicking over Lola and ignoring her as being too dull to notice. He actually turned back to the screen for a second before snapping his head back again.
‘No . . .’ he breathed incredulously, his handsome face the picture of surprise. ‘Lola?’
David jumped up and down in glee.
‘She’s our secretary, ’ he pronounced. ‘What shall we call her?’
‘Gloria McUgly, ’ Jean-Marc said instantly.
‘Patty McHideous, ’ David chorused.
‘Jennifer Smith, ’ Lola said firmly.
‘Perfect, ’ David agreed. ‘That’s so boring you can’t even remember it while you’re saying it. Jean, ring down and tell security she’ll be going in and out. Tell them she came in through the garage by mistake, but she’ll be using the front exit now.’
‘Should I really use the main door?’ Lola started. ‘There’s so many photographers and news crews out there—’
‘And believe me, sweetie, there are plenty of them staking out the garage and the staff exits as well, ’ David said wisely.‘They’ll be much less suspicious of someone just walking in and out of the front and not looking like they have anything to hide. I’ve got you a nasty cheap tote too, so you look even more secretary-ish. There’s your Citizens For All Humanity jeans and your Missoni cashmere sweater tucked inside, so you can change when you get there. It’s over by the door.’
‘You think of everything, David, ’ Lola said, impressed.
‘Stay for dinner, ’ Jean-Marc begged him. ‘I just ordered in your favourite!’
‘Kobe beef burger with truffle fries and arugula?’ David said excitedly. ‘No!’
‘Yes!’
‘OK, but darling, I can’t sleep over, ’ David said, pulling a face. ‘I’m going to have to get up at the crack of dawn tomorrow, so I’ll eat with you but then I have to go home and hit the sack.’
‘Oh, darling . . .’ Jean-Marc pouted. ‘I get so lonely without you!’
‘Jean, we’ve been over this, ’ David sighed. ‘I have a job. I need to go to it. Being a motion graphics designer, I work on ads and TV promos and corporate stuff, and sometimes I have to start really early or work till really late. Plus, I have daily Narcotics Anonymous meetings to go to. I can’t be with you every moment of the day, darling.’
Jean-Marc dragged the corners of his mouth down.
‘Can’t you just quit your job?’ he said pettishly.
‘No, I can’t!’ David said rather crossly. ‘You need to respect that I’m earning my own living!’
‘And Jean-Marc, isn’t that a good thing?’ Lola chimed in. ‘I mean, you wouldn’t want him to live off you completely, would you?’
‘Of course I would!’ Jean-Marc wailed, grabbing a pillow and clutching it to his stomach for comfort. ‘I have so much money, I might as well share it with him! We could travel everywhere, have such a lovely time – how am I going to cope with him going to an office every day and being tired in the evening, when I’m just waking up? What am I going to do with myself?’
‘Jean—’ David began, an edge to his voice.
‘Honestly, Jean-Marc, ’ Lola jumped in quickly, ‘I think you should be grateful that David doesn’t want to take advantage of you. I mean, most people who’d bagged someone as rich as you would give up work immediately, and that would be all wrong. You should—’
Jean-Marc currled up in the corner of the sofa, still clutching the pillow.
‘If there’s one thing I learned in rehab, ’ he said with great dignity, ‘it’s that one should never tell other people what they should and shouldn’t do. It doesn’t help at all.’
Lola forebore to point out that he had just done exactly that himself.
‘I have my pride, Jean, ’ David said quietly.
‘I know!’ Jean-Marc moaned. ‘And it’s killing me!’ His face crumpled. His periwinkle eyes were awash with tears, like overflowing fountains, water pouring over bright blue tiles. ‘The trouble is when I’m with you, I couldn’t be happier. I never want to do anything naughty, apart from drink a little champagne. But when you go, I feel so awful! So lonely! And that makes me want to go out and get high.’
‘Oh no . . .’ Lola began.
‘That’s when you go to a meeting, ’ David said to him. ‘Or call your sponsor. I can’t be with you every second of the day, darling. You’re the one that has to keep yourself safe.’
‘I know, ’ Jean-Marrc said sadly, still hugging the cushion. ‘I just wish you could.’
‘I won’t be late, ’ Lola promised. ‘It’s just a girls’ night in. I’ll be back by midnight.’ She looked at him, now wiping his tears away, and had second thoughts. ‘Or should I cancel and stay with you?’
‘No, ’ David said firmly. ‘You can’t run your life around Jean-Marc, and neither can I. He’s an adult, he has to look after himself.’
‘You’re so mean, ’ Jean-Marc said, kissing him. ‘I hate it when you tell me I’m an adult.’ He managed a watery smile for Lola. ‘Off you go, sweetie. Are you going to be all right? I mean, are you sure about what you’re doing tonight?’
Lola nodded determinedly.
‘I need to feel I’m doing something. There’s nothing I can do about Daddy and the trial – we haven’t even got a date for that yet, and Simon Poluck’s got a whole team of private investigators tracking down that nurse and seeing if they can trace the money Carin must have paid him to lie to the grand jury. I’m going mad shut up in here, waiting.’ She gestured towards the windows. ‘This at least gets me out of the apartment for a little while. Plus, I get to do some sleuthing of my own.’
‘Make sure you keep all those lies straight, ’ David recommended
.
‘Do it just like we worked it out. And be careful, Lo, ’ Jean-Marc emphasised.
‘Believe me, ’ Lola said, setting her jaw martially, ‘I know what I’m doing.’
As Lola stepped out of the lift, her heart was beating faster than usual with nerves. It was the oddest experience crossing the lobby of the Plaza: even before her arrest, everyone had turned to look at her, or at the very least been unable to resist a swift glance in her direction, checking out in the flesh the beautiful blonde socialite who was a staple of the glossy magazines.
And now she might as well have been invisible. She was a ghost of her former self, a girl with ugly hair and dowdy cheap clothes, completely out of place in this smartest of New York addresses. Head ducked, her leather-effect tote under her arm, she looked exactly like the part for which David had so expertly costumed her – a low-level secretary, not worthy of any notice.
It was the strangest feeling for a girl who couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t been the cynosure of all eyes. It should have been intensely frustrating for Lola to find herself suddenly vanishing from the radar that had picked her up every time she stepped outside her house; but to her great surprise, she found herself enjoying it tremendously.
Everything in her life was upside down. It had taken her fiancé’s overdose and coming out to make her realise that she hadn’t wanted to marry him after all. It had taken his horrible older brother, who she still passionately disliked, to give her a taste of the kind of sex she had been craving her whole life, without ever being aware of it.
And it had taken her being arrested for the murder of her own father to give her the kind of anonymity she had never had, and show her how much she liked it.
Lola passed the paparazzi as if she were wearing a cloak of invisibility. As always, there was a line of yellow cabs waiting outside the Plaza, and she paused a moment for the doorman, who always in the past would have scrambled to open the door of the first one for her. It took her a little while to realise that he wasn’t going to bother; she obviously wasn’t going to tip him, nor was she pretty enough to make it a pleasure to do her a service.
God, she thought as she opened the door and climbed in. Pretty girls really do have an easier time of it. I must be much nicer to plain girls in future.
‘Lola!’ everyone screamed as she entered Madison’s apartment.
If Madison’s neighbours were on the ball, Lola thought dryly, they would be ringing the tabloids right now to let them know that Lola Fitzgerald was partying with her girlfriends: the screams were certainly loud enough to have been heard all down the corridor.
‘Oh my God, Lola?’ Devon exclaimed, sitting up straighter in the chair in which she’d been lounging, and goggling at the dowdy secretary who had just walked into the room.
In a dramatic gesture, which she enjoyed tremendously, Lola reached up and pulled off her wig and wig-cap in one smooth movement, revealing her pinned-back blonde hair.
‘I would never have known it was you!’ Georgia marvelled. ‘I would have walked straight past you in the street!’
‘Darling!’ Madison rushed towards Lola, arms out wide in an embrace.
Right, Lola thought with that small cold part of her brain that she had learned to access ever since the first time one of her friends had betrayed her. You’re all over me now that I don’t need a place to stay. But when I needed something, you couldn’t get me off the phone fast enough.
Tall, Amazonian Madison, enfolding Lola in a hug, made her disappear momentarily into a Gucci-scented whirl of cream silk and pale suede. Re-emerging, Lola looked wryly at her four friends, all dressed exquisitely, and pulled a face.
‘I’m going to get changed straight away, ’ she said. ‘Mad, come and talk to me while I do?’
‘Of course!’
Madison looked mightily relieved that Lola didn’t seem to have any resentment towards her because of her refusal to let Lola stay in her apartment. Snatching up two glasses of kir-laced champagne, she strode quickly after Lola down the hall to her bedroom.
‘You’ve lost weight, honey, ’ she said, handing Lola one of the glasses. ‘All the stress, right?’
‘You can’t imagine, ’ Lola said, sitting down on the bed and slipping off her heels so that she could take off her nasty scratchy-wool trousers.
‘Where did you get that outfit?’ Madison asked, distracted by its horror.
‘David bought it for me at Macy’s, ’ Lola said.
‘Ewww!’
‘David’s a real sweetie, ’ Lola said. ‘I’m so happy Jean-Marc met him. They’re getting married, you know. In London. Next month.’
Standing up, peeling off her sweater, wearing just her silk La Perla bra and French knickers, Lola reached for her glass of Kir Royale and sipped some, her big brown eyes watching Madison limpidly. Madison’s green eyes widened as she digested the news.
‘Oh, whoops!’ Lola clapped a hand over her mouth. ‘Mad, I can’t believe I told you that, it’s such a secret! Please, please don’t tell anyone! You know what the press is like – David and Jean-Marc just want to sneak off and have a really quiet ceremony, and if anyone knows it’ll leak out. Please, you have to promise you won’t tell!’
‘Oh, I won’t, I promise I won’t, ’ Madison assured her.
‘No, really!’ Lola insisted. ‘Jean-Marc’s been so good to me – you know he’s paying for everything, right? And he took me in and says I can stay as long as I want.’
She stared hard at Madison, who did have the good grace to look uncomfortable at this.
‘So I mustn’t, mustn’t let him down – you promise you won’t tell, Mad?’
‘Cross my heart and hope to die, ’ Madison swore.
Lola pulled on her jeans and silk Missoni sweater, a knit so light but so elaborately patterned in a peacock design that only the slimmest of women could have carried it off, and went back to the living-room to be greeted ecstatically by the rest of the girls.
‘Such a good disguise, ’ Devon said admiringly. ‘So clever.’
‘You’re not all staying here, are you?’ Lola asked, taking prime position, in the centre of the white leather sofa, where everyone could see her. She sipped more Kir Royale and fixed Madison with another big brown innocent gaze. ‘I didn’t know you had room for this many guests, Mad!’
Madison laughed brightly.
‘Oh no, just Georgia, ’ she said.
‘Devon and I are staying at Soho House, ’ India said, smiling at Lola. ‘The pool gets a bit crowded at the weekends, though.’
‘The Meatpacking District’s over already, ’ Devon sighed.‘I mean, Soho House is supposed to be a private club, but it’s like they let in every single hedge fund manager in New York! And God, they bring in some trashy girls.’
‘We were there last night, ’ Madison said, pulling a face. ‘Not as exclusive as it used to be.’
‘But how are you, Lo?’
Georgia leaned forward, pushing back her red curls with both perfectly manicured hands, as if to bare both her ears to hear Lola’s answer better. She was wearing sprayed-on jeans and a strappy green jersey top, large diamond studs glittering in her earlobes: even by Georgia’s hi-glam standards, she looked very dressed up for a quiet girls’ night in, Lola couldn’t help thinking.
‘I’m still in shock, I think, ’ Lola admitted, reaching for a pack of cigarettes on the coffee table and lighting one up.
Lola had cried solidly for the past three days, ever since she was given bail. Getting back to the Plaza, being able, finally, to let go after all the drama of her arrest and the time in the Tombs, had been as if she were a puppet and someone had cut her strings. She had collapsed. It had taken her two days just to get out of bed. And she probably would still be there, if the girls, come to New York en masse to ‘see how she was doing’, aka get all the latest juicy gossip from her imploding disaster of a life, hadn’t kept ringing and ringing.
‘Is there anything to eat?’ she asked. ‘I’m starv
ing.’
‘We got some negimaki rolls, ’ India said, jumping up.‘I’ll find you a plate.’
‘Oh, I’ll come too, ’ Lola said quickly, rising to her feet and following India to the kitchen.
On the granite counter top was a big plate of negimaki – grilled strips of beef dressed with teriyaki sauce and rolled up with finely sliced spring onions. It was perfect food for watching your weight: rich-tasting and nicely chewy, so it felt satisfying, while the lean protein gave you energy without too many accompanying calories.
‘I got some plain boiled rice, too, ’ India confessed. ‘Madison was so cross. I had to promise to eat it all myself or throw it out with washing-up liquid poured over so she couldn’t snack on it if she got a carb craving.’
‘Give me a spoonful, ’ Lola said. ‘I’m so hungry I could eat my own arm.’
India flashed her a quick smile. She was looking very pretty, Lola thought. India would always be the plain one of the group, comparatively speaking. But if you looked at her on her own, she had a lovely, gentle face, with wide-set hazel eyes, framed by soft tumbling light-brown curls. And OK, she might not be a size four, but she had a very nice figure, slim, with a naturally flat stomach. It was just the rest of the girls’ competitive starvation stakes that made India look larger than life by comparison.
‘Here you go, ’ India said, producing a takeout container of rice from the oven, which of course was only used as an extra cupboard: it was never actually turned on. India pulled out two spoons and shot Lola a comical, naughty glance, like a little girl sneaking ice cream from the freezer behind her parents’ back.
‘Just a couple of spoonfuls . . .’ Lola said, loading hers up with rice and topping it with a negimaki roll. ‘Mmm, lovely, ’ she said through a mouthful.
‘We can finish it off, ’ India said happily, scraping out some more rice. ‘Madison’ll be much happier if there isn’t any left. She really doesn’t like complex carbs in the house.’
‘I’ve barely eaten for the last couple of days, ’ Lola said, taking another piece of beef. ‘It’s been so difficult at Jean-Marc’s.’
Divas Page 22
