‘No. I walked – Jenny’s mum couldn’t take us after all. And Jenny’s allowed!’
Suddenly, Jessica felt indignantly alert. ‘Why didn’t you call me?’
‘I didn’t have my phone, remember? You said I couldn’t take it to school.’
It was true. So many teenagers getting addicted to social media these days. ‘But you should have asked the office or something.’
‘Anyway, you’re always busy,’ Anna sniffed.
It was true. She’d probably have been bogged down on Instagram. ‘That’s not the point, Anna. You know how I feel about you walking home.’
Anna’s lip trembled slightly – a younger, more fragile child breaking through for a moment. ‘Yeah, well, you don’t care about me,’ she said.
‘Oh, of course—’
‘Hang on, have you been eating my cookies?’ her daughter interrupted, back in surly mode almost instantly.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Those crumbs,’ she said, pointing to a pile that Jessica had missed. ‘Are they my chocolate cookies?’
‘Oh these! Well, yes – sorry.’
‘Mum!’ Anna rushed to the crumpled, empty packet like a mother to an injured child. ‘They were the last ones! You know I always need chocolate after double maths!’
A couple of months ago, mid-diet, Jessica would have questioned the word ‘need’. Nobody ‘needs’ sugar, Anna. You’d be better off with a rice cake. But after the day she’d had, her stomach grumbled in sympathy. ‘Sorry,’ she shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. She daren’t tell her daughter that the biscuits had been crumbled, for photographic, fake lifestyle, clickbait Insta-snaps, and were now in the bin.
‘Well, why didn’t you have one of your millet things? You’re always telling me that they give you more good energy or whatever.’
‘Well … it’s just—’
‘I hate you! You pretend to be all fit and good and everything and you just nick all my stuff!’
‘Hey. It was only two biscuits … and … and anyway,’ said Jessica, seizing on an idea, ‘it wasn’t me; it was Dave!’
‘Dave?’
‘Yes.’
‘And where’s—’
‘Gym.’ At least that was probably true. ‘He wanted to work off the calories.’ The lies flowed more easily than they probably should have between mother and child.
‘Why didn’t you say anything to him?’
‘I …’ In for a penny, in for a pound, she thought. ‘I came in and he was already munching them. Look at all those crumbs!’ Jessica shook her head, feeling almost indignant. An hour and a half firming his buttocks every morning, and the man couldn’t take five minutes to put his cookies on a plate.
She got up and went to the cupboard. ‘Look, I’ve still got some of …’ her hand hovered over a packet of date thins. #wholesome #guthealth #magicfibre
‘No thanks.’ Anna cocked her head to one side. ‘Mum, are you sick or something?’
‘No? Why?’ Did she look sick? It was probably time for a spray tan – she’d been avoiding going back to her usual salon after a recent paper-knicker-tearing-while-bending-over incident – something she and Bea referred to as ‘crackgate’.
‘It just smells like you might have thrown up or, I dunno, eaten something fishy?’
‘Oh, that. No, just – I just, um, spilled something.’ Jessica rubbed the crispy white stain on her jumper self-consciously with her sleeve.
‘Right. What’s for tea?’
‘Not sure. Takeaway?’ she said, feeling suddenly simultaneously ravenous and reckless.
‘Really? But you never eat takeaway!’
‘Look,’ Jessica said, slipping her arm around her daughter’s back. ‘I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.’
Before they left, she Instagrammed a picture of a salad she’d taken two weeks ago. ‘Gotta love feta!’ #healthychoice #fiveminnutemeal #spinach
Fuck Dave. Fuck that man and his stupid padded swimming trunks …
And his gym-honed biceps. And his ripped stomach. And his impossibly peach-like derrière. And his eyes, like pools of dark chocolate just waiting to be dived into … And his Twitter stat-boosting selfies … And his 2.1 million followers …
Second thoughts, she’d call him tomorrow.
Chapter Five
#freshlemonandginger #morningcleanse #fitnessfirst
Morning! For a great start to the day, squeeze quarter of a lemon into some hot water, and for an extra kick, add a little fresh ginger. Great for stimulating the senses and helping you get ready for anything!
Jessica snapped a quick picture of her barely tasted lemon and ginger and sighed. Opening up her laptop she saw her reflection hover briefly before the Windows logo kicked in and the machine booted itself into life. If only there were filters for reflections as well as photos, she thought, noticing a new depth to her eyebags, then she’d never have to face reality.
Before she could open her emails, there was a knock at the front door. She heard Anna’s footsteps running down the stairs – the only time she ever ran – then the door being opened and the low tones of a delivery driver. Pulling her dressing gown more tightly around her waist, Jessica walked into the hall to see what had arrived.
Anna handed her a package. ‘What is it, Mum?’ she said.
‘Not one for you, I’m afraid.’ Jessica was often sent free samples and tester kits, and when she could she passed them on to Anna. Little eyeshadow pallets, hairbrush sets, perfume samples – Anna had a whole box of them in her room that she’d try out whenever a friend came over.
But this box was marked ‘Bronzed Beautiful’ – a sample set of a home-tanning kit Jessica had promised to review. Opening up the box, she found a bottle of ‘deep mahogany’, together with a sponge and a body brush. The bottle of lotion, when opened, smelled a little like shoe polish.
‘Are you going to try it?’ Anna asked. ‘Can I have a go?’
‘I’m going to try it, but it’s not for you, love. Maybe when you’re a bit older.’
She set the box down on the hall table and glanced up into the mirror. She was looking pretty pasty – the tanning kit had come at the right moment. Sadly, there wasn’t time to put it on before work.
Padding back through to the kitchen, she took a slug of coffee before turning her attention back to her inbox.
To:[email protected]
From:[email protected]
Subject:PR enquiry
Dear Jess,
Not sure if you’ll remember me – we met briefly at Jeff Conby’s book launch (100 Most Interesting Facts About Corduroy: 2) and you mentioned you did his PR?
At the time, I was working on a book (Remembering Rainbows) and I’m really excited to say that MindHack Publications made me an offer – the book’s out next week!
Anyway, as you probably realise, there is very little budget behind the launch, so – as I want to get the book out there as much as I can – I’ve decided to fund some personal PR. I wonder whether we could meet up to discuss the kind of thing you do (and the cost!).
I’ve attached an info sheet to give you an idea.
Thanks very much.
Robert Haydn
PS: started reading your blog. Very inspiring!
Book Info:
REMEMBERING RAINBOWS
Remember the feeling of seeing your first ever rainbow? That sense of childish delight and wonder? How long has it been since you felt pure excitement and joy?
For most of us, the answer is ‘not for a long time’.
So how can we recapture those simpler, more authentic feelings?
Robert Haydn, psychologist and father of two, is a man on a mission to help you find your inner child once again! Through a series of tutorials, he will help you to embrace the simpler side of yourself, and find true happiness!
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To:[email protected]
From:[email protected]
Subject:PR enquiry
Dear Rob,
Thanks for your enquiry – yes, I remember meeting you and hearing all about your book. Well done for getting a publication deal!
I’d be more than happy to meet up to discuss strategies.
If you could call me on the number below perhaps we can arrange a suitable time.
Best wishes,
Jessica Bradley
CEO Star PR
Loving my new laptop! @PCLife #techsavvy #multitasking #winning
Pressing send, Jessica flicked onto Google and typed ‘Robert Haydn’ into the search box. After a few false starts, she found the right website and studied his picture. Dark hair with a slight curl, light green eyes, glasses and a slightly lopsided grin.
Had she met him? The book launch he’d mentioned had been two years ago – all she remembered was rushing about trying to make sure she spoke to everyone and getting Jeff to sign any copies requested. She’d talked to a lot of people.
She looked more closely. In the picture, he looked about forty-five. He was wearing a white shirt, which with his pale colouring didn’t do him any favours. Teeth a little too white, but maybe that was Photoshop?
She’d had her own teeth whitened to a natural cream colour a couple of months ago but had stopped short of traffic-stopping, showbiz brilliance. ‘Don’t want to scare off the clients,’ she’d joked to Bea when she’d chosen from the shade chart. ‘I want to dazzle them with my PR, not my gnashers.’
Mum had taken Jess having her teeth whitened as an insult to her parenting skills, of course. ‘I don’t see why you need your teeth to be any lighter,’ she’d sniffed when Jessica had told her. ‘They look perfectly fine to me!’
‘Thanks, it’s just—’
‘Your brother’s never seen the need to have his teeth whitened.’
‘It’s not that, it’s—’
‘And I suppose you’re going to say that I should have stood over you every night when you cleaned your teeth! Well, I’m sorry, but I did my best!’
‘Honestly, Mum, it’s not that. You did a great job. It’s all the … coffee and red wine,’ Jess had desperately searched her limited knowledge of the culprits behind teeth staining. ‘I’m not—’
‘Red wine? How much wine are you drinking exactly?’ Her mother had charged down the conversational rabbit hole like a whippet. ‘Your father likes a glass, and his teeth are fine – at sixty-six! Except for the one that’s gone grey. But that was due to that incident with the garden rake. Silly man. I told him to put his tools away – but would he listen? You don’t think you might have a drink problem, dear?’
Two weeks later, her mother had had her own teeth whitened. Significantly whitened.
‘Did I say that?’ she’d replied when Jess called her on it. ‘I’m sure we’ve never spoken about whitening. Carmella – you know, that lovely girl at the club? – she says it’s all the rage!’ She’d leaned a little closer. ‘You know, perhaps you should get your own done? They’re looking a little dull.’
Jessica looked again at the write-up of Remembering Rainbows. It sounded like reading the book might do her some good. If embracing her inner child meant happiness, she was all for it.
Chapter Six
Meeting a #newclient @theBridgeCafe! Great news for @StarPR #RememberingRainbows
Jessica hadn’t been to this particular café before. Tucked at the end of the high street, its small window revealed a couple of metal chairs and glass-topped tables, a counter displaying a selection of cakes, and a fridge stacked with spring water and fruit juice.
She pushed open the door and stepped inside. Almost immediately, she was bombarded with a plethora of delicious smells: freshly brewed coffee, cakes, and something else she couldn’t put her finger on. A jazz compilation – the sort she always felt she should play but never quite got around to streaming – hummed softly in the background.
Robert hadn’t yet arrived, so Jessica took a seat and looked idly at the menu. It was 10am and the café was surprisingly quiet for a Saturday – debris on the tables suggested the breakfast shift had just ended, and it was probably too early for mid-morning coffee and cake. She shared the space with an elderly woman reading a novel and a couple of young mums whose children sat in highchairs nibbling messily on chocolate cookies.
Jessica tried to think of the last time she’d taken Anna out to a café for a treat. It had been quite a while. Avoiding temptation had been one of the challenges of her health and fitness regime, and the sights and smells of cafés or bakeries would have been too hard to bear. But did that mean she’d deprived Anna? Not of the cakes or the carbs, but simply of the time together; the uninterrupted pleasure of sitting and talking? And here she was, on a Saturday, meeting a client while Grahame was probably taking time to treat Anna and have fun.
Before she could finish her train of thought, the door opened and a man she recognised as Robert entered, carrying a small plastic bag and holding a book in his hand. He was slightly better-looking in the flesh than in his picture. One of those unlucky people for whom photos do no favours, because his crooked smile and the crinkling around his eyes that had aged him in the pics were somehow charming in reality. She’d assumed he was about forty-five, but now he seemed closer to forty, maybe even late thirties.
He was wearing a checked shirt in blue and white with a pair of chinos and had completed the look with some battered trainers that the mum in her longed to rip from his feet and wash or replace.
He glanced around, saw her and walked towards her with a grin.
‘Hi, Robert,’ she said, sticking out her hand. He gripped it in a brief handshake.
‘Hi. Call me Rob,’ he smiled, taking off his glasses, setting them on the table, and running his hands through his hair. It reminded Jessica of one of those movie-moments where the nerdy girl takes her specs off to reveal she’s actually both sassy and sexy.
Why, Dr Haydn! You’re beautiful!
Actually, though, he was quite cute once his glasses were removed and she could see his eyes – greener than they’d appeared online. His hair sprang out from his head in dark curls. She reached up instinctively towards a particular curl that had fallen across his forehead, then snatched her hand back just in time. What was she doing?
A slight girl, dressed in a black polo-shirt and black trousers approached, notebook in hand. ‘What can I get you?’ she asked.
‘Just a green tea for me, please,’ Jessica smiled.
‘Same,’ said Robert, sitting down with a sigh.
The girl nodded and disappeared behind the counter.
‘So, thanks for meeting me here,’ Rob started. ‘I know you wanted me to pop into the office but I really wanted you to see this place.’
‘You did?’ she asked, glancing around.
‘Yeah.’ He blushed slightly. ‘This was the place where I came up for the idea for Remembering Rainbows.’
‘Oh?’
‘Yeah. I mean, it’s not the café as such – I mean, it’s a nice café; good music. But it was a day when I was feeling really depressed. Jane, that’s my ex-wife … well, we’d just decided to get divorced. I’d gone for a walk and I popped in here because it had started to rain a bit, you know?’
Jessica nodded. Divorced, she thought. A fellow relationship fucker-upper.
‘And I hadn’t expected it to be so relaxing. It was the music, I think. And the staff being so friendly. I ordered myself a slice of their carrot cake – which I recommend, by the way – and sat here for about an hour. And it occurred to me that I’d never usually have stopped and treated myself to anything. And how that little bit of cake made me feel so much better.’
Jessica nodded, hoping that there was more of a message to Remembering Rainbows than simply the idea that ‘cake makes you f
eel better’. She’d known that since she was two years old.
‘The cake wasn’t anything special, not really. It was the idea of treating myself. A nod to my inner child.’ He twirled his glasses nervously in his hand.
‘So tell me about the book – what kind of advice do you offer?’ she prompted.
He reached into a small leather bag propped against the table leg and slid out a copy of a white book. On the front, it had a woman’s face gazing in wonder at an enormous rainbow, with tiny children dancing along it.
‘Rather than simply giving advice, it’s more of a programme of embracing your inner child,’ he said, passing her the copy, his eyes lit up with inspiration. ‘You know. That very primitive part of yourself. Doing all the things you liked to when you were a kid.’
‘Uh huh?’ Jessica flicked open the cover to reveal a picture of Robert walking through a park with a Labrador.
‘So, there’s a chapter on playgrounds – how if we pass one in a park, there’s no harm in having a quick go on the swings or the roundabout,’ he continued, gesticulating enthusiastically. ‘Although my kids aren’t too keen if I do it when I’m out with them. They’re twelve and fourteen – just at that age where they think pretty much everything I do is embarrassing.’
‘I’ve got one like that at home!’ Jessica smiled. She caught his eye and he grinned back.
‘Anyway, it’s doing that – giving in to your inner child. Dancing madly to music rather than just stepping a bit to the beat. Drawing pictures, even if they’re rubbish. Making paper planes. Singing at the top of your voice.’
‘OK,’ Jessica nodded, thinking of Anna’s pleasure years ago whenever she’d got the paints out.
‘Because for me, remembering those parts of myself – the parts when I just did what I felt like and didn’t even consider what anyone would think – were the ones that kind of contained my happiness, you know?
Jessica hadn’t expected to particularly warm to the idea of Robert’s book. But something about this idea appealed to her. And he was appealing too, she realised. Intelligent, passionate, caring; if she could get him some airtime on radio or even TV, he’d go down a storm. Plus it was nice, she thought, to talk to someone about happiness rather than comparing muscle-to-fat ratios or arguing over whether carbs are naughty or irredeemably evil.
Everything is Fine: The funny, feel-good and uplifting page-turner you won't be able to put down! Page 4
