Coconuts and Wonderbras (8 page)

    ‘You’d have to pay
them
,’ giggles Issy.

Not the most flattering of compliments. I let her talk me into finishing the morning off with coffee and cake at Harrods which, amazingly, she pays for.

    ‘This place is so pretentious don’t you think?’ she giggles.

We both gawp at the statue of Princess Diana and Dodi Fayed for about five minutes. Memories of Paris, car crashes and a highly fragrant London unwittingly enter our heads.

    ‘Christ,’ grunts Issy, and we move on.

I would have much preferred Marks and Spencer. At least the women there seem a little more my equal.

    ‘Do you have PG tips?’ Issy asks the waitress with a wide smile.

    ‘I’m sure we can acquire some madam,’ the waitress replies and I blush.

Following tea, and yes, I am ashamed to admit, cake too, Issy drags me around the women’s department and oohs and ahs over the clothes while saying.

    ‘This is only two thousand, five hundred, what a bargain. I’d buy it but the tea wiped me out.’

To which I respond,

    ‘Delightful darling, but you already have two of those and didn’t you say the butler found it a bugger to iron?’

    ‘Oh, I’ve sacked him darling. I have Pudsey now.’

    ‘Oh goodie,’ I squeal, while tempted to ask who Pudsey is. ‘Is he any good?’

    ‘Marvellous darling, especially when I get the whip out.’

I manage a quick glimpse of myself in the Harrods loo and am quite impressed, even if I say so myself. I could be mistaken for a slightly overweight celebrity. My hair is shiny and my natural curls have been softened and gathered up into a neat chignon, and my lips seem to be in a permanent pout which is very Marilyn Monroe. If only I had a more glamorous looking face. I feel an overwhelming urge to stroll along Oxford Street in the manner of
Pretty Woman
but instead trip and fall into the taxi in the manner of Libby Holmes. Issy convinces me to keep on the Donna Karan dress that was part of the makeover package.

    ‘Let Jamie see what he has got. You look absolutely fab. You know if you made the effort, you could look like this every day.’

Make the effort? What a cheek. It took a ton of touché éclat, a professional make-up artist and a camp hairdresser to achieve this overhaul. Just what kind of effort she expects me to make I do not know, but she can certainly forget it. It will obviously mean losing an hour in bed and let’s face it if there is no man in your life it really isn’t worth it.

I arrive at the office and attempt to enter the building in the manner of glamorous model and surprise myself by actually succeeding. Feel a little perfect, you know, like Gwyneth Paltrow but without the ‘Apple’ child. I hit the lift button with the palm of my hand and receive an admiring glance from a handsome man who exits. Oh yes, so it only needs a four-hour make-up overhaul every morning and I can get this attention every day. I give it some thought and then decide bed is the better option. I glide effortlessly up to the second floor and sing happily along to the Christmas music that serenades me. Please God, let Toby walk past the window tonight. I put my head to the side and pout my lips seductively to the lift mirror. Oh yes, I look good. I feel warm inside, knowing that tonight could be the night Toby and I get back together. Maybe, I won’t be alone over Christmas after all. That reminds me, I really should do some Christmas shopping. I also need decorations for the tree. Things are looking up. I will pop to the shops after work tomorrow and buy lots of festive goodies. After all, I will be paid soon and there is bound to be a Christmas bonus. I practise inviting Toby in for coffee again and decide to buy one of those negligee things on my way home. Pyjamas just don’t have the same appeal do they? The lift doors open and I come face to face with Jane while still practising my pout.

    ‘What on earth happened to you,’ she blurts out.

Well, thank you very much, and what does that mean exactly? I manoeuvre my lips back to their normal position.

    ‘I’ve had plastic surgery, don’t you like it?’

I walk past her towards the office, trying to regain my earlier confidence. I take a deep breath and with a kick, fling open Jamie’s door.

    ‘Tra-la-la. What do you think?’ I say, while posing seductively in the doorway.

I am confronted with Jamie, Alex Bryant and the Blonde Blancmange. How more dire can things get than coming face to face with Miss Glamour on sticks? I take one look at her and am instantly deflated. I slowly untangle myself from the doorway and smile awkwardly. She sits upright looking like a model. Jamie could have warned me.

    ‘You look fab darling,’ he exclaims. I really can’t tell if he means it or not.

Blancmange surveys me. I decide it is best not to move in case my wobbly bits wobble. I so wish the floor would open up and swallow me.

    ‘Yes, rather amazing, actually,’ says Alex, ignoring a sharp look from Blancmange. I meet Bryant’s eyes, and find myself flattered by the appreciation in them. I blush and turn away.

    ‘You’ve already met Penelope Vistor, haven’t you Libby. Penny is the advertising executive for Chanel’s new ad campaign,’ says Jamie, proudly.

She would be wouldn’t she?

    ‘Am I missing something? What exactly have you had done?’ asks Penelope, in an upper-crust horsey drawl while squinting at me.

    ‘I’ve had a sex change,’ I reply not missing a beat.

Jamie sniggers and Alex seems to bite his lip. Penelope, however, continues to look curiously at me. Good God, she believes it. After a moment of staring, she turns to Alex and kisses him on the cheek.

    ‘Well, I must fly. I’ve got to pack for Beijing. I’m flying first thing tomorrow. Meetings with Chanel delegates there,’ she says flicking back her hair. ‘I still have heaps of emails to answer. I’ll see you later at the house honey. God, I hope that cleaner woman has managed to tidy up the muddle. Don’t you just hate moving countries? And cleaners are a nightmare aren’t they?’ she says airily, looking at me.

    ‘Oh, yes absolutely,’ I say stupidly.

I barely move counties, what would I know? As for cleaners, well I’m more likely to be one than to have one.

She sweeps past without a second glance. There is silence.

    ‘Was it the testosterone from the other day?’ asks Alex breaking it and grinning at me.

    ‘Oh sharp, very sharp,’ laughs Jamie.

I give them a dismissive look. Jamie makes a show of pulling himself together and sits behind his desk before gesturing to me to sit down.

    ‘Right, glossing over your sex change,’ he says and bursts out laughing again.

I sit down and glance at the clock on the wall. I really want to get to the shops before they close. I spot a photo of Jamie with his Filipino boyfriend at a fancy-dress party and let out a snort. Honestly, he has only known him a matter of days.

    ‘So, what are your plans for Christmas?’ he asks.

He isn’t going to invite me to a gay party is he? Toby will never go to that. We will spend the whole evening with Toby’s arse suctioned to a wall. I will rush around fetching drinks and food while he glues himself into a position where his arse cannot be seen. No, I don’t think so. I would much rather spend Christmas Eve watching a Christmassy movie cuddled up on the couch.

    ‘I still have loads of Christmas shopping to do. In fact, I have all my Christmas shopping to do. Then there is a tree to buy and…’

Jamie shifts in his seat and looks uncomfortably at Alex. I am starting to get a bad feeling about this.

    ‘Why are you asking me?’ I say bluntly.

No point beating about the bush. After all, it will be Christmas soon, and Toby and I will be back together. I must be forgiving about Serena Lambert. Toby obviously isn’t in love with her, and he probably just wanted to be seen with a slim woman, and do you blame him? I’ll buy a book on the art of forgiveness by the Dalai Lama or someone, and make a determined effort to keep to my diet.

    ‘We have ourselves a bit of a situation,’ says Bryant, calmly.

Jamie pushes some papers towards me.

    ‘The rebellion in Cambodia is building momentum. They have the elections soon. Colonel Kuma Pong, the present governor, is hoping to get re-elected.’

Fascinating, but what has this got to do with me?

    ‘Well, I am mighty glad I am not there then,’ I laugh nervously, pushing the papers back at him. I really don’t like the serious looks on their faces.

    ‘The annual Ventura book fair is being held this January in Cambodia, and Alex will be attending. His new book
The Smiling People’s Revolution
has been chosen for all the major awards. We have a TV interview booked out there
and… Well, anyway we’ve managed to get most things brought forward because of the high security risk. Alex, as you know, has accused Kuma Pong of corruption on more than one occasion, and he isn’t going to like Alex being in the country at election time…’

So, he’s going to Cambodia again. That’s good news.

    ‘Yes, well, that has nothing to do with me,’ I break in. I really don’t want to hear any more. I just want to plan my Christmas with Toby.

Jamie sighs.

    ‘Janet, the media woman we assigned to go with Alex, has gone down with chickenpox. You’re his agent and…’

    ‘No one asked me to be his agent, and I never said I would be,’ I say firmly. ‘I’m not going to Cambodia. I quit.’

Saying ‘I quit’ sounds smugly American but saying ‘I’m handing in my notice’ just doesn’t have the same impact does it? I don’t really want to leave but what else can I do. I don’t want to go to Cambodia. I never wanted to go when it was peaceful so I certainly am not keen to go while there is an uprising. Especially considering Bryant has accused Colonel Pong of corruption. Honestly, fancy even asking me. Let him go alone. I’m sure if we arm him with a toothpick and a cheese grater, he will be able to take care of himself.

    ‘Don’t do that Libby. I realise it’s a crap thing to ask. But Alex knows of a safe house should there be any difficulties, but I’m sure there won’t be. I think you could also write some good stuff out there and…’

    ‘A safe house?’ I echo, ‘I’m an agent, not a bloody spy, and Toby is the writer not me.’

Why did I bring Toby into the conversation?

    ‘And, yes, it is a crap thing to ask,’ I say, feeling hurt that he even did. I pick up my handbag.

    ‘I’ve got Christmas shopping to do. Excuse me.’

    ‘
The
Political Times
thinks your writing is very good as it happens. They are keen to publish anything you write while you are out there.’

I turn to Alex Bryant, who is reclining in his seat, his voice smooth and calm. It is quite hard to picture him as the action man, but I suppose if I ever do consider going to Cambodia, not that I ever would of course, but if I should, which I won’t, I imagine Bryant is the safest man to go with. Oh, the thought of being alone with Alex Bryant. I feel the need to fan myself. What is wrong with me?

    ‘How dare you both talk about me to
The Political Times
? Toby writes for them, and I would never upstage him even if I could, which I can’t.’

I fling the door open and march to the lift, the whole time wondering how I can possibly afford Christmas now that I have quit my job.

Chapter Seven

    ‘I’ve fired that bloody woman. I mean, just look at the place.’

Alex Bryant looks around and wonders what the
bloody woman
did to deserve to be fired. The flat seems tidy enough to him. Okay, there are several boxes lying around and a few things still wrapped but overall it looks tidy enough. Penelope flounces past him, swooping down on the flowers he is holding as she does so.

    ‘They’re lovely darling but you know Freesias make my mother sneeze terribly. I did tell you that.’

    ‘I bought them for you, not your mother.’

He walks into the kitchen, takes a bottle of water from the fridge and fills a glass. He is about to lift it to his lips when she sighs.

    ‘I do wish you would put things back,’ she snaps, picking up the bottle of water and returning it to the fridge.

    ‘We need to hire someone else. Can you phone that agency tomorrow?’ she says, busying herself putting the flowers into a vase.

He sighs and walks into his office where she follows him.

    ‘Alex, did you hear me?’

When did she become such a nag?
he thinks irritably. Things were never like this when we lived in separate apartments.

    ‘You fired the help. You phone the agency and get someone else. I was quite happy with Trudy. I’ve got to prepare for my trip. You’re the one who wants a housekeeper.’

She sits tearfully on his desk and crosses her legs seductively.

    ‘I don’t have time now. I can’t believe you’re going to Cambodia with that silly ‘Lilly’ woman.’

The image of Libby standing at the door of Jamie’s office enters his mind and not for the first time that day.

    ‘Her name is Libby,’ he says absently, remembering her excited tra-la-la. She must have felt terrible he thinks, seeing us sitting there.

    ‘You’d think she would lose some weight. What on earth was that all about today?’

    ‘What do you mean?’ he asks, pulling his mind away from her image.

    ‘That sex change business, honestly.’

He laughs.

    ‘It was a bit of fun.’

    ‘Well, I don’t get it,’ she snaps, climbing off the desk. ‘She needs to lose some weight if you ask me.’

Alex didn’t like to say that nobody had asked her. He thought back to Libby’s entrance and realised that he hadn’t really noticed her weight. But now he thinks about it, she could lose a few pounds, but what she lacks in that area he feels she certainly makes up for in personality. He can’t help wondering what she is doing now. He tries to picture her having dinner with her boyfriend. God, that Toby is an idiot he thinks irritably. What does she see in him? She is obviously still with him. Surely she could do better than that. It annoys him to know that Toby certainly won’t change her mind about Cambodia, and in fact, he will probably be doing just the opposite. What a shame, he thinks. She would have been fun company. He hasn’t had much fun in the past few weeks. She’s got some pluck too. He likes that.