The Go-To Girl by Louise Bagshawe

Author:Louise Bagshawe
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group

8

‘You promised,’ Janet says.

‘Well, I know, but I’ve changed my mind,’ I tell her. It’s Friday afternoon, I’ve reluctantly come away from the office, and we’re standing outside Harvey Nichols. Just me and this incredibly sexy woman. Everybody is staring. We’re like Beauty and the Beast.

Janet is sticking to her guns.

‘Not good enough,’ she says, spiritedly. ‘You promised me I could make you over, Anna.’

‘I’m not that superficial’ I say. Why are we doing this, except to make me go through changing-room trauma? I’ll still emerge looking like a cross between a giraffe and a sack of potatoes. And Gonzo from the Muppets.

Janet snorts, Rubbish, you’ve just got a complex.’

‘Well, you would have too,’ I say defensively.

‘You can’t tell me you don’t want to improve your look, deep down inside,’ she says. ‘What about all that running? What about all the stuff you’ve been eating?’

I blush. I was kind of hoping nobody had noticed. I leave at six in the morning and six at night and my flatmates are not supposed to be awake then, or notice when I get back.

Janet has, though. I feel aggrieved. It’s very embarrassing, isn’t it? Old lard-arse suddenly getting all Jane Fonda? I hope Lily hasn’t picked up on it. She’d never stop teasing me.

‘You threw out those chocolate Hob-Nobs,’ she says relentlessly.

Yes, that was hard.

‘And you’ve been eating Boots Shapers sandwiches and apples. And you switched to diet Pepsi.’

‘I don’t know why you have to snoop around in my food cupboard,’ I say haughtily.

‘Hey, it’s Jay-Me’s crib too,’ she says. ‘I know wazzup in the hizzouse. I think you’ve lost some weight already.’

‘I have not,’ I say. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

‘At least three pounds and probably five,’ she says judiciously. ‘But most of that is water weight. Still, it’s coming off.’

I shrug.

‘You’ve been doing it because of that man,’ she says.

I blush deeper. ‘That’s bullshit!’ I say defensively.

Janet looks at me as if I’m insane. ‘Yes you have. Copying his lifestyle? Modelling your millionaire mentor? Eli Roth, right?’

‘Oh – yes. You mean like that. Eli. Well, sure.’

‘And for love, of course.’

‘What?’ I protest.

‘For Charles,’ she says, nudging me. Oh, yeah, Charles, right. ‘Huh? Huh? The big party? Now what’s the point of taking the weight off and getting healthy if you don’t dress to match?’

‘Harvey Nichols, I can’t afford that. Or the hairdressing.’ My raise is looking more and more anaemic.

‘My treat,’ Janet says. ‘Don’t argue. I get staff discount here. Got connections,’ she says airily. ‘And the hairdressing is for free. Paolo’s doing it as a favour to me. I spent ages setting that up. You can’t let me down, I’ll look really stupid.’

‘OK,’ I say glumly.

Honestly, what is the point? I’m wearing a black Gap T-shirt and 501s. Another don’t-notice-me outfit. Janet is wearing a pair of sprayed-on white shorts, little tangerine leather sandals with kitten heels and sexy straps tied round her ankles, a white shirt knotted under her huge boobs à la Daisy Duke, and masses of jangly silver bangles. The thought of me in an outfit like that would turn the stomachs of strong men.

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