will think that. We all know how professionalyou are—it’s just one of those things. I know they always say the show must go on, but unless you can do it from the bogs, I don’t think it’s going to happen this time, is it?’
Vogue leaned into me, and I could feel the clammy, cold sweat on her forehead, poor thing. She really wasn’t very well at all. She was quiet for a few minutes, and I genuinely started to wonder whether she’d fallen asleep on me, and how I was going to move her so I could get back to work.
I glanced at our reflection in the mirror, and saw that far from being asleep, she was looking at me through slightly narrowed—but suddenly more alert—eyes. She was chewing one corner of her lip, as though she was wrangling with a big philosophical issue, or an especially hard question on
Pointless.
I raised my eyebrows at her, my expression asking her what she was thinking.
‘Jess,’ she said, finally.
‘Yes,’ I replied, feeling a little bit freaked out by her change of mood.
‘I have an idea.’
‘Okay?’ I said, not willing to commit any further until I knew what it involved.
‘You’re right—the show must go on. And I think I know exactly how we can make that happen …’
Chapter 12
I t was very difficult to speak with someone else’s fingers poking around in your mouth, I was discovering—but I was trying desperately hard to do it anyway.
‘I aaan’t oo it!’ I mumbled, tempted to bite Neale’s hand as he smoothed the Crest whitening strips down onto my gnashers.
‘Of course you can do it,’ he said back, smoothly, refusing to be distracted by my wriggling or my distorted words. ‘And you’re going to look fab-u-lous while you’re doing it.’
He finally finished, and I clenched my mouth shut in relief. He’d already scoured the existing make-up off my face with a touch as gentle as a WWF wrestler, and had sprinkled drops into my eyes to ‘give them a little oomph’.
He’d slathered a quick facemask all over my skin, and when I looked in the mirror I saw that not only was I wearing plastic strips across my teeth, but my whole face was green. I’d gone Hulk within the few minutes it had taken for Neale to realise that this was his big chance to prove himself—whether I was willing or not.
Vogue’s great idea had been so ridiculous, I’d actuallylaughed out loud when she suggested it. It was only when I saw her still-serious expression that the true horror of it all sunk in.
‘You go on instead of me,’ she had said, not even cracking a hint of a smile. I fought the urge to look round for the hidden cameras, before coming to the conclusion that she actually meant it.
‘What?’ I’d replied. ‘I can’t do that. I’m just here to hand out the food that nobody wants. I can’t … I’m not … I couldn’t …’
‘You are, and you can,’ she’d said briskly, real steel coming into her voice. She stood up, still clutching her tummy, and I suddenly felt a bit scared. Even without her heels she had a good six inches on me.
‘I’ve heard you rehearsing, Jess. I’ve seen you practising the routines in the dance studio. I know—I one hundred per cent know—that you are capable of pulling this off.’
‘That’s different,’ I bleated, pathetically. ‘That’s just rehearsing. That’s just in private. That’s … no. I can’t do this.’
‘I thought you were here because you want to be a star?’ she said, tilting her head and staring at me.
‘I do … but I’m not ready for this, Vogue.’
‘Nobody is ever ready, Jess. It’s like having a baby—you might not be ready, but you won’t ever regret it.’
I wondered briefly, amid all the panic that was flooding my senses, how she’d know about having a baby—but it was definitely not the right time to ask. It was the right time to flee for my life, and I found myself eyeing the door, wondering if I could make it out alive before she rugby tackled me to the floor.
‘This,’ she
Vogue leaned into me, and I could feel the clammy, cold sweat on her forehead, poor thing. She really wasn’t very well at all. She was quiet for a few minutes, and I genuinely started to wonder whether she’d fallen asleep on me, and how I was going to move her so I could get back to work.
I glanced at our reflection in the mirror, and saw that far from being asleep, she was looking at me through slightly narrowed—but suddenly more alert—eyes. She was chewing one corner of her lip, as though she was wrangling with a big philosophical issue, or an especially hard question on
Pointless.
I raised my eyebrows at her, my expression asking her what she was thinking.
‘Jess,’ she said, finally.
‘Yes,’ I replied, feeling a little bit freaked out by her change of mood.
‘I have an idea.’
‘Okay?’ I said, not willing to commit any further until I knew what it involved.
‘You’re right—the show must go on. And I think I know exactly how we can make that happen …’
Chapter 12
I t was very difficult to speak with someone else’s fingers poking around in your mouth, I was discovering—but I was trying desperately hard to do it anyway.
‘I aaan’t oo it!’ I mumbled, tempted to bite Neale’s hand as he smoothed the Crest whitening strips down onto my gnashers.
‘Of course you can do it,’ he said back, smoothly, refusing to be distracted by my wriggling or my distorted words. ‘And you’re going to look fab-u-lous while you’re doing it.’
He finally finished, and I clenched my mouth shut in relief. He’d already scoured the existing make-up off my face with a touch as gentle as a WWF wrestler, and had sprinkled drops into my eyes to ‘give them a little oomph’.
He’d slathered a quick facemask all over my skin, and when I looked in the mirror I saw that not only was I wearing plastic strips across my teeth, but my whole face was green. I’d gone Hulk within the few minutes it had taken for Neale to realise that this was his big chance to prove himself—whether I was willing or not.
Vogue’s great idea had been so ridiculous, I’d actuallylaughed out loud when she suggested it. It was only when I saw her still-serious expression that the true horror of it all sunk in.
‘You go on instead of me,’ she had said, not even cracking a hint of a smile. I fought the urge to look round for the hidden cameras, before coming to the conclusion that she actually meant it.
‘What?’ I’d replied. ‘I can’t do that. I’m just here to hand out the food that nobody wants. I can’t … I’m not … I couldn’t …’
‘You are, and you can,’ she’d said briskly, real steel coming into her voice. She stood up, still clutching her tummy, and I suddenly felt a bit scared. Even without her heels she had a good six inches on me.
‘I’ve heard you rehearsing, Jess. I’ve seen you practising the routines in the dance studio. I know—I one hundred per cent know—that you are capable of pulling this off.’
‘That’s different,’ I bleated, pathetically. ‘That’s just rehearsing. That’s just in private. That’s … no. I can’t do this.’
‘I thought you were here because you want to be a star?’ she said, tilting her head and staring at me.
‘I do … but I’m not ready for this, Vogue.’
‘Nobody is ever ready, Jess. It’s like having a baby—you might not be ready, but you won’t ever regret it.’
I wondered briefly, amid all the panic that was flooding my senses, how she’d know about having a baby—but it was definitely not the right time to ask. It was the right time to flee for my life, and I found myself eyeing the door, wondering if I could make it out alive before she rugby tackled me to the floor.
‘This,’ she
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