by Lotte Daley
‘What about an F?’ Dr Vasquez says. ‘Her weight could take an F …’
‘No, because we’ll have her in for some lipo next week … and then there are the gym sessions.’
‘Gym sessions?!’ Oh God, oh God, no, no, no, that’s a total nightmare! The gym and I have not met since the year 2000 when I bought myself a hideously expensive all-singing, all-dancing gym membership at Buff Bodz, went once, fell over in front of the hot men doing weights, put my hand on to some poor sod’s crown jewels to steady myself, which resulted in a sweaty pile-up on the gym mats. Needless to say, I never went back. I shudder at the thought.
‘So, an F would be too big, no?’
‘TOO BIG!’ I squeal.
Both men look taken aback.
‘I think we should give her five minutes,’ Aubrey whispers, as they retreat from the room. ‘She’s the emotional type.’ The men exchange knowing glances.
I’m left on my own, still sitting on the plush couch with images of myself starkly reflecting in the mirrors hanging on the whitewashed walls. I look saggy, I do. I sigh heavily and close my eyes for a few seconds. When I open them, I can see my ‘after’ shot. I look luminous, gorgeous. That’s the kind of girl Jack wants, not my droopy-boobed, podgy self. These people are trying to help me – they have my best interests at heart. They know what they’re doing. Why am I being so ungrateful? I take another deep breath and smile into the mirror. My wonky teeth grin back. My heart sinks. Right, no more moaning, no more feeling awful, I have a chance now, to be someone, to be gorgeous and I am going to take it, even if it means having to suffer humiliating moments with pen-wielding rude men, nothing is going to stop me because I’m going to be gorgeous! I will let them do anything they like to me, anything! My phone trills in my bag. It’s Danielle.
‘Hey you,’ I say.
‘Hey, I’m coming to get you tonight, there’s no media outside your house, plus Grum is off his food. I think he misses you. I tried him with a bit of haddock but he was having none of it.’
‘He’s a fusspot. I wouldn’t worry,’ I say.
‘I don’t understand where all the press have gone though, Katie? Jessica Hilson must have farted in Honolulu,’ she says sarcastically.
‘More likely Hanna Frost has set up some swanky magazine shoot or something with them,’ I say back.
‘Oooh, get you!’ Danielle says, with a smile in her voice.
‘I’m sitting here right now,’ I say, ‘covered in marker pen!’
‘May I ask why?’
‘I’m having, uh, I’m having some dermatological dermabrasion skin peel, you know, to recapture my youthful glow!’ I lie through my teeth.
‘Don’t be a banana,’ Danielle laughs, ‘you’re only twenty-six, Christ, I’m turning thirty this year, so if anyone needs a dermadoodlewhop thing it’s me!’
I daren’t tell her I’m having a boob job. Danielle is so super against any kind of extreme plastic surgery and right now, I really need her support, especially since between them, Dr Vasquez and Aubrey have stripped away any smidgen of confidence I had located back at Ziggy Wang’s.
‘Shh,’ I say to her, ‘OK, right, well I have to go, Dr Vasquez is coming back in the room any second …’
‘OK, sweetie, I will call you later, once I’ve seen Stewart for an early dinner …’
‘What?’
‘Can’t talk now, don’t lecture, speak later,’ and with that she was gone. I sat and stared at the phone and before I could think about whether or not any of this was in fact a wise idea, or before I could think about Jack sunning himself with Jessica in Hawaii, Aubrey and Dr Vasquez waltz back into the room.
‘Better?’ Aubrey queries.
‘Yes, thanks, I am excited and very happy and would love new boobs, ones that stay up without a bra … you’re absolutely right, I do not want to be tucking my boobs into my socks when I reach thirty.’
‘Good girl,’ Aubrey says, breaking out into a warm smile. Moments later, I am dressed; the face sock is firmly on my head as Aubrey leads me by the hands towards the back entrance of the clinic. I peek out through the eye slits of the balaclava and see an imposing black Range Rover. The window rolls silently down and Bailey pops his head out.
‘Over here!’ he yells, as we sidle over.
‘This is different …’ I say, admiring the shiny exterior.
‘Yeah, Hanna felt it would be less conspicuous to drive around in a four by four than the eye-catching limo.’
‘But I like the limo …’ I whine.
‘Madonna likes the limo, too, it’s currently in a disused warehouse in Soho being primed for her new music video. It’s a popular car.’
‘Oh, wow!’ I say, as I imagine Madonna’s pert gym-honed bum sitting in the same seat I had become accustomed to in the past few days and recalling how Madonna was on the agreed list of acceptable people with whom to cheat on me alongside, oh, oh no! Alongside Jessica Hilson! And Sharon Stone. And anyone from Hollyoaks! But everyone knows that those lists are meant to be fantasies, to be jokes, not to be acted upon. Oh God, maybe Jack thinks I gave him permission to slope off with Jessica?
‘We often lease it out to rock stars,’ Bailey continues, winking at me in the rear-view mirror. I smile, feeling my cheeks flush.
‘You so like him,’ Aubrey hisses in my ear, as he sits back against the leather seats, buffing his fingernails until he could practically see his face in them.
‘Do not,’ I hiss back, lying through my teeth.
‘You’ll be in serious doo doo if you go near that boy,’ Aubrey says gravely.
‘You can take the mask off, Katie, the windows are blacked out, no one can see in.’ Bailey yelled from the front. Why was Bailey off limits, I wondered? Perhaps he was doing it with Hanna after all, although I had so far seen no evidence. Is he gay? After all, he does dress exceptionally well and wears a lot of tight abs-revealing t-shirts.
‘Gay?’ I whisper to Aubrey.
He raises an eyebrow that suggests not.
‘Let’s see …’ Aubrey whispers back.
I pulled the balaclava off my head, distracting Bailey from Aubrey’s secret whisperings about him in my ear. My hair, still bouncy from the mega blow-dry, sprang out gaily.
‘Nice hair,’ Bailey commented, as he twisted the steering wheel down the road, his biceps bulging in the sunlight.
‘The wizardry of Ziggy Wang!’ I said gleefully, as Aubrey shot me a look. ‘And Aubrey chose the colours,’ I said, throwing him one back.
‘Can you name the shade?’ Aubrey questioned Bailey.
‘Looks blonde to me,’ Bailey shrugged.
Aubrey gave me another look. ‘Not gay. Not in a million years.’
‘I don’t fancy him,’ I hissed back in his ear. He raised another eyebrow in my direction. If he wasn’t careful, the way he moved them up and down like that he’d do himself an injury. He totally didn’t believe me either. Bailey turned on the radio as our conversation came to a natural close. I sat back against the seats and watched the traffic snake around us through the City. Twenty minutes later, we came to a stop outside Poets Field PR, where I could see Danielle in close conversation with Hanna Frost, who looked stunning in a bright fuchsia Galaxy dress. I hopped out towards her.
‘Hey you,’ Danielle said, quickly turning her attention towards me. Aubrey air-kissed us both, winked at Hanna and bade us farewell. It was far too nippy for him, in his tiny designer t-shirt with strategically placed holes and distressed denim which also had bits of material missing. My mother would have a fit if I came home wearing that outfit and would have it off my back quicker than the stylists to darn and patch with much gusto using navy-blue thread.
‘Come on inside, darling,’ Hanna thrust her arm into the crook of my own and hustled me into the building. Bailey and Danielle followed.
Hanna looked at me appraisingly. ‘Gorgeous,’ she simpered. ‘Phase one is complete, almost.’
‘Almost?’ I queried. What else could they have pl
anned for me?
‘Tomorrow you will have your nails tended to, your make-up professionally applied and an outfit will have been carefully selected for you by none other than Tom Theodore, stylist to the stars.’
‘Yes, Aubrey said! I am really excited about that, even if he did style Jessica Hilson.’
‘Tomorrow is a big deal, Katie. It will be your first test to see whether you come out a winner or a loser. I can’t be having you doing an impression of a mentalist on national television, so you need to work on keeping those emotions in check. This means no hysterics if you see a picture of your arse.’
‘Which one?’ Danielle said sarcastically. ‘The one she sits on or the one in Honolulu?’
‘Funny,’ Hanna said dryly. ‘The one she sits on. But my point is,’ Hanna said, addressing Danielle, ‘that Katie had a full-on hissy fit in the boardroom yesterday, and one today at Ziggy Wang’s when confronted with information slash evidence of Jack Hunter’s philandering ways, and let’s not forget her reaction was the same if not worse to the shots of her being lifted out of Lauriston Gardens on Richard’s back.’
‘Well, it was a shock, that’s all … I don’t think there is much worse that could happen now, surely?’ I said, suddenly unsure of the words spoken.
‘Quite,’ she said. ‘You are doing your first interview tomorrow with Sizzle Stars magazine.’
My face dropped and my blood went cold. Sizzle Stars ran the leading gossip trail on Jack and Jessica. What if they devoured me? I knew how fickle these magazines could be, one minute we all loved leggings, then next, the Devil invented them. I know I wasn’t a pair of leggings, but the sentiments were the same. What if they noticed the spot that was resident on my chin or they laughed about the size of my love handles? What would I say if they brought up the fact I wear cheap Tesco pants?
‘I will be on hand to advise you on everything, Katie, so you don’t need to worry. I will have a list of questions that they will ask you and will prep you on answers you should give. You must stick to them.’
Too right, I was going to stick to them, either that or be ridiculed out of London and forced into exile in Little Glove with only my mother for company.
‘OK, right, so good stuff, at least you will be there to guide me,’ I smiled at Hanna hopefully.
‘Right, I must go now, Katie, get a good night’s rest tonight. Bailey will pick you up at 10am tomorrow and from there, we will go straight to the Sizzle Stars offices.’ With that she smiled, turned on her kitten heels and answered her phone which was trilling loudly for attention.
‘Blimey,’ Danielle said, as we watched her saunter off to the lift.
‘I know,’ I murmured, ‘she’s amazing.’
‘Right, girls!’ Bailey interrupted our moment of extreme envy at the fact Hanna Frost’s backside didn’t wobble and her boobs stuck solidly to her pencil-thin torso. Her glossy hair trailed in neat waves down to the base of her back. She was a goddess, albeit an unusual-featured woman. She appeared to have no chin.
‘I can’t work out if she’s beautiful or not. Hanna has everything in the right place, but she still reminds me of a horse,’ Danielle chortled.
‘I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,’ Bailey whispered.
‘Shhh, we weren’t talking about THAT Hanna, were we, Danielle?’ I nudged her violently in the ribs.
‘Ouch! No, of course not, now let’s go eat, I’m starving.’
‘I thought you ate earlier with Stewart-small-penis?’ I queried.
‘Don’t ask,’ she sighed. So I didn’t. If there was a serious need for extreme man decodation and subsequent analysis of his movements, I knew they would come out with the bottle of red we’d surely consume over dinner.
‘You girls frighten me,’ Bailey says, mocking us, as we clamber into the car.
‘We’re not that scary!’ Danielle says. ‘In fact, why don’t you find out for yourself?’ she says, with a glint in her eye. Bailey looks intrigued, but nervous.
He starts up the engine of the car as Danielle lurches forward, resting her chin half on his shoulder in a playful manner. ‘Stay for dinner with us,’ she says.
‘I can’t …’ he begins to say, before Danielle whips him on the arm.
‘Don’t be silly, of course you can!’
‘Really, it’s a big day tomorrow and I …’ he continues.
‘Nonsense,’ Danielle says. ‘After you have dropped us off, go home … where is it you live?’
‘Baker Street,’ he says.
‘Posh,’ she says. ‘It’s not far, go home, freshen up, come back, we’ll cook dinner, how about a nice Italian?’
‘I’d have one of those!’ I joke badly.
‘Shh, you,’ she prods me in the arm before turning her attention back on Bailey, whose face has turned a fetching shade of crimson.
‘I can’t,’ he says solemnly. ‘Traffic’s insane this time of night.’
‘OK, well, if you change your mind, let us know.’
Despite the second knock back of the week by Bailey, my resolve was strong in the sense that the look books had shown me the ‘me’ of my dreams. The fact I wasn’t going to put myself into bankruptcy to enjoy the benefits of plastic surgery was even sweeter. The whole shebang made me feel encouraged that despite how dire things looked with regards to reconciling with my beloved Jack, perhaps it could happen, like Hanna said.
We came to a stop outside my house, opened the door and stepped out of the car. No reporters or paparazzi were in sight and aside from some curtain twitching from the direction of Mrs Bellamy’s house, all was quiet on the East End front.
‘Thanks, and see you soon,’ I hollered to Bailey as he revved his engine into reverse, waved his hand and drove off, rather too fast.
‘What’s up with that boy?’ Danielle questioned.
‘No idea,’ I said, as I got my keys out of my bag and turned them in the lock. It was weird being back at home again, even though I had only been gone less than a week. So much had happened and going back into my living room was like returning to the scene of the crime. The familiar scent of my house made me think of Jack. I looked into the kitchen and intrusive bittersweet memories flooded in of all the times Jack pushed me up against the worktops, hands kneading at my breasts, a leg moved surreptitiously in between my thighs, making me gasp in pleasure. He would lift me up on to the counter and make mad, passionate love to me – all the while his mouth enveloping every inch of my body. The same thing occurred all over the house, the couch, the stairs, the bathroom … and especially the bedroom. There were sex memories everywhere. He was insatiable. Is that what he is doing to Jessica Hilson 24/7 in exotic locations? And of course, her body is taut and slender and she earns stupid money for appearing in cheesy films. I struggled for all of five minutes to realize what he could possibly see in her but, of course, what he saw in her aside from her massive tits and honey-blonde hair, was the ability to get exposure, and oh boy, had he got exposure. He was plastered all over the place, playing the role of the tanned, toned adoring boyfriend, in just about every single magazine sold in any newsagent’s. He was everywhere. He just wasn’t with me, where he should be. My phone rang, breaking the silence of my trip down sexual memory lane.
‘Katie,’ my mum bellowed down the receiver.
‘Hi, Mum,’ I replied.
‘It has been days now, and there has been no sign of the Daily Mail in the front garden. Would you care to explain why your poor father was up a ladder painting the window frames and clearing out the guttering? Why I have been on my hands and knees for nearly two days wearing my Sunday best, weeding and planting and preening? Janice cleaned her bedroom solidly for two whole hours. Can you tell me why there are no promised journalists camped out, wanting to talk to me about my daughter?’
‘You say it as though it’s a bad thing, Mum! We don’t want to be stalked by paparazzi!’ I say to her, incredulously.
‘We do,’ she says, ‘because I told everyone in Betty Baxter’s salon, whe
n we went for our trims, that my daughter was on the precipice of becoming a household name and that the Daily Mail were going to be scrabbling in the flowerbeds to catch a glimpse of my hairdo and, of course, to gather information on you from us, your loyal, adoring family.’
‘Sorry …’ I said, gobsmacked.
‘And now everyone will think I have lied. And they will think it very well runs in the family after Nicola Baxter’s scathing interview with Lorraine Kelly on your wild days of debauchery down Little Glove Community Centre. Everyone always thought you were such a cherub, and now we learn that you were anything but, leading Nicola Baxter down the wayward pathway to sin. Really, Kate, heaven knows where you got it from, it certainly wasn’t me, must have been a heathen throwback from your father’s side. His great-great-grandfather was a cow thief from the Highlands, don’t you know.’
‘Mum, I’m doing my first magazine interview tomorrow, aren’t you pleased about that?’
‘Unless it’s in Good Housekeeping you have no chance,’ Janice says.
‘Janice?’ we both say, as a third person joins in on our phone conversation.
‘Yeah, that’s me, in the spare room, watching Jessica Hilson snog Jack’s face off on a beach somewhere, looks nice, very hot, super jealous.’
‘Janice!’ Mum barks at her.
‘What?’ she says.
‘I can’t deal with this right now,’ I say, mournfully, ‘I’ll call you tomorrow,’ and with that, I hang up. Danielle had already poured me a large glass of wine and was scrabbling about in the kitchen for a pizza menu. It was a takeaway night, for sure.
Chapter 7
After a good gossip and some much-needed respite from fashion gays, body scrutinization and my ex with his megastar new girlfriend, I had yet another fitful sleep, peppered with nightmares that included Jack being horrible to me, Jack swanning around with Jessica, her looking amazing and me looking like the back end of a bus. And then I woke with a start to that horrible, head-shattering, dreadful beep beep beep of my alarm clock as sweat trickled down my back and down my forehead. So much for being a nightmare, I thought, as reality crept into my sleep-addled brain. Jack dread is actually happening to me right now, I sighed heavily and rubbed my eyes. The sun was shining brightly through the windowpanes, making everything in my bedroom sparkle. I felt a rush of optimism, and grabbed it with both hands. ‘Well, not this morning!’ I sternly thought to myself as I heaved myself out of my bed and towards the shower, singing shamelessly and using my favourite strawberry-shaped soap that was kind to my skin. I had put MTV on as loud as it would go, sod the neighbours, half of them had hearing aids in anyway, and enjoyed a good hour playing with the make-up in my goody bag from Hanna, all shiny new and Chanel. I wanted to spend at least ten minutes in Bailey’s exceptionally good-looking yet slightly morose company looking a little bit attractive. As it happened, disappointingly Bailey didn’t show up this morning. Hanna Frost beeped her horn loudly as Danielle peeked through the curtains.
