Sweet Temptation (20 page)

I pulled a face at Becky. Hundreds of emails? That was rather an overstatement. Still, Collette liked to play up her importance, we both knew that. If you believed her claims, she was up there with Chris Moyles in the listener ratings.

‘I bet you’re dying to know how we’ve all been getting along over the last two weeks, aren’t you?’ she went on. ‘Well, don’t you worry, the wait will be over very soon. We’ll give you a full report right after this fab new song from Lily Allen. Take it away, girlfriend.’ She pressed a button to start the song, then gestured to Becky and me to go into the studio for our piece. Oh God. I really didn’t feel like doing this today – talking about myself live on air. Forget all my past ambitions, forget my stupid dreams of being a presenter, today I just wanted to be quiet and anonymous, keep my head down and get through the day until I could clock off and check on Mum.

It was rather a squeeze in the studio, and I felt conscious of my bulk as Becky and I perched across from Collette on her desk where the large ‘guest’ microphone hung down from the ceiling. Behind her bank of monitors and computer equipment, she fiddled around cueing up the adverts before looking up at us.

‘All set?’ she asked. ‘Excellent. So I’ll intro the piece, then we’ll do you, Bex, then link in to Andy, and finally you, Maddie. Remember to smile for the webcam, okay?’

I glanced warily up at the camera pointing right at us. Oh no. I’d completely forgotten about that little bonus. So not only would I be talking live on air, but footage of us in the studio would be beamed onto thousands of computers at the same time.
Help.
I wished I’d worn something more flattering and bothered to do my hair properly that morning. It hung lank and uncared-for over my shoulders, and the baggy top I was wearing hadn’t seen an iron for a while. Frankly, my personal appearance had been the least of my concerns recently.

Collette ran the adverts, then winked at us. ‘You’re listening to Brum FM, and this is Collette McMahon, with you until two o’clock. And, as promised, we’re going to be catching up on the team’s progress with our campaign to Make Birmingham Beautiful. Even more beautiful than it already is, of course – we all know the Mailbox is the most gorgeous sight in the world if you’re a shopper like me, ha-ha. So, if you can cast your minds back to two weeks ago, I’d given us each a challenge. Mine was to trial a Colour Consultation, Becky was having a make-up lesson, Andy was booked in with a personal shopper for an image makeover, and good old Maddie was continuing her fat-busting mission. Phew! Don’t say we do nothing for you lot!’

Indeed. How incredibly self-sacrificing Collette was, I thought waspishly as I listened to her yap on about how she’d dared wear a green top for the first time after her consultation, and how she was now passionately in love with her divine new green bag. This never would have happened while Chip was running the show.

Becky was next, and she falteringly described her makeup lesson. She kept going blank, I could tell from her grimaces at Collette, who finally put her out of her misery. ‘Check out Becky’s handiwork on our website, guys,’ she said. ‘We’ve posted some before and after shots there. I must say, her skin is looking
particularly
flawless these days. Now, let’s hear from Andy, our boss, about his little makeover. Obviously, Andy, you always look fabulous to me, honey, but did you learn any new summer style tips from the personal shopper?’

Andy, who was in another studio, chatted briefly about his experience of trying to wear bright blue board shorts and deck shoes without looking like a complete pillock. ‘I did get a few comments walking round the Pallasades,’ he said. ‘Not in a good way, unfortunately. And my wife took one look at me and burst out laughing. I guess I’m just a jeans and T-shirt kind of guy, Collette.’

‘Well, we’ll see what our listeners have to say about
that
,’ Collette replied. ‘You’ll find photographic evidence of Andy’s trendy summer look on our website, and a poll where you can vote on whether you think he looks hot . . . or not! And don’t forget, we’ll be giving you the chance to win vouchers for all these experiences – a colour consultation, a make-up lesson at Selfridges or a personal shopper for two hours – so stay tuned! Before that, though, we’ve got one more member of the team left. She’s been counting the calories and fighting the fat . . . it’s Maddie.’

I gulped as she turned in my direction.

‘Before we hear from her, I must say, I do recommend that you all have a look on the webcam to see how Maddie’s losing the pounds,’ she said, smirking across the desk at me. ‘She’s totally shaping up, and she’s right here to tell us all about it. Over to you, Maddie.’

I took a deep breath, horribly aware of the camera pointing straight at me, and terrified at the thought of my fat, frightened face pixellated on all those computer screens.

‘Well, I’ve had quite a tough time of it lately,’ I blurted out, and then shut my mouth in surprise. Where had that come from? But before I could stop myself, the words were pouring out.

‘My mum’s been taken ill suddenly, and I’ve been really worried about her,’ I said. I clenched my fingers to try and stop them trembling. Adrenaline spiked through me as my mouth kept working all of its own accord. ‘As well as scaring me half to death, it’s made me have a good think about my own health. I haven’t done a lot of exercise over the last . . . well, over the last thirty years, if I’m honest. And seeing my mum so unwell has brought it home to me just how important your health and fitness are. So I’ve been going to the gym quite a lot and . . .’

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Collette making get-on-with-it motions, but I ignored her. I was on a roll.

‘And it’s funny, because being a large person, I always thought I’d be laughed at in a gym. Sneered at. “What’s
she
doing in here?” sort of thing. But everyone’s been really supportive there. Everyone’s encouraged me, praised me, made me feel good about trying to change myself and get fit. And with all the stress and worry about my mum, the gym’s become the one place that makes me feel strong, like I can cope and I’m taking back some control of my life. I’m doing it for my mum and my husband and my kids, because I want to have the energy and strength to love them and look after them, but most of all, I’m doing it for me. Yes, I’m doing this for me – and it feels great.’

I stopped abruptly, slightly shaken at the torrent of words that had burst from me. Oh my God. What had I just
said
? Had it made any sense? It had been as if someone else was speaking, not me. Becky’s arm was around my shoulders, and I hadn’t even noticed her putting it there.

There was a brief pause before Collette leaped in to fill it. She looked rather taken aback, as if she hadn’t expected me to speak for so long. Mind you, I hadn’t expected it either.

‘Thank you, Maddie,’ she said. ‘Well!
That
was certainly straight from the heart. Any suggestions for our next beautifying missions are welcome – I’ll keep you posted about our new challenges on my blog. Coming up – details of how you could win some treats to make yourself more gorgeous, but first, let’s hear from Nita, who’s got our travel round-up.’

She flicked a switch and we heard Nita’s voice telling tales of torment on the M42. Becky gave me a squeeze. ‘You okay?’ she asked in a low voice.

I nodded. ‘Think so,’ I said.

Collette stood up and put her hands on her hips. ‘Maddie, that was a bit unprofessional,’ she said. ‘You were meant to talk about losing weight, not all that stuff about your mum. You’ve got to try and keep on-message. People will think they’re tuning in to The Misery Show, not—’

But before she could go on, Andy’s face appeared through the window, gesturing for me to come out.

‘Now you’re for it,’ Collette said, unable to hide the glee in her voice. ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

Becky followed me out, and Collette, after slapping on another track, bustled along too, eager to eavesdrop on my bollocking.

Far from tearing a strip off me, though, Andy was smiling and putting a hand on my shoulder. ‘Maddie – I just want to say that that was fantastic radio,’ he said. ‘The way you spoke so eloquently, so movingly – you’re a natural. Really wonderful stuff, well done.’

Collette was bristling with annoyance. ‘
I
was just telling Maddie that I found it rather unprofessional, unfortunately,’ she put in before I could respond. ‘She spoke for way too long, she repeated herself, she—’

‘On the contrary,’ Andy interrupted. ‘I thought you were great, Maddie. Really honest and inspiring. Perfect.’ He gave my hand a squeeze. ‘And I’m so sorry to hear about your mum, by the way,’ he added. ‘She’s done a lot for us over the years – do give her our best next time you see her. I’ll get Emily to send her some flowers.’

‘Thanks,’ I said, feeling dazed as Collette stalked back to the studio, glaring daggers at me. ‘That’s . . . that’s very kind of you.’

Becky and I walked to our desks. ‘That must have been hard,’ she said quietly. ‘Having to talk about the last few weeks on air when things have been so difficult. I’m really sorry you had to do that, Maddie. If I’d known for a second that your mum was ill, I’d never have let Collette run the segment.’

‘It’s okay,’ I said, feeling every minute of my sleepless night now that the adrenaline of being in the studio was leaving my body. I remembered the way Collette had glared at me with such hatred in her eyes and shuddered. ‘That’s probably the last time she’ll let me speak on the show anyway,’ I said with relief. ‘I’ll be quietly dropped from the whole stupid campaign, you’ll see.’ I couldn’t have been more wrong.

‘Darling, you’re very, very naughty, you had me crying over your show today, you know,’ Mum said without preamble when I dropped round to see her after my shift. ‘Crying with pride for you, I mean, and guilt that you’ve been so stressed over silly old me. Oh, and I’ve had the most enormous bunch of flowers from that lovely boss of yours. Goodness! Anyone would think I was about to drop dead or something.’

I laughed at the defiant way she said it, but I felt my heart twist with anguish too. How could she speak so flippantly about dying when it had rushed up so close to her lately?

‘These got here fast,’ I said, spotting the flowers, still in their cellophane, plonked in the kitchen sink. ‘Andy only ordered them at lunchtime. Let me put them in a vase for you.’

‘Oh, would you? Gerald answered the door to the delivery chap, but you know what he’s like, not a clue about such things, and I didn’t feel up to it either. Thanks, darling. Gosh,’ she said, as I walked past her, ‘you
have
lost a few pounds, you know. Mike been cracking the whip, has he?’

‘Something like that,’ I said. ‘He’s nice, isn’t he, Mike? I really like him. And I’m so glad you gave me that kick up the bum, signing me up for the gym in the first place.’ I took the dripping flowers from the sink and carefully snipped through the cellophane. As well as the sweet-smelling white freesias, there were also Barbie-pink gerberas, pale pink roses, and creamy white and pink peonies, so fat and round they resembled scoops of raspberry ripple ice cream. ‘Further proof, if I needed it, that you are always right about everything, Mum.’

She chuckled. ‘Ah, I’m glad you’ve finally realized that. It’s taken a while, but I knew you’d get there in the end.’

I filled a vase with water and arranged the flowers while we talked about how she was feeling, which involved quite a lot of bitching about how Jeremy Kyle should be thrown to the wolves. Then I couldn’t help myself and came out with my bit of good news.

‘Mum, you know after my piece on the radio today,’ I began. ‘Well, we had the most amazing response. Over two hundred people called in or emailed about it – all of them saying lovely things about how they hoped I’d keep up my gym attendance, and how I was an inspiration to them. Lots of well-wishers saying they hoped you’d get better soon as well.’

I saw her chin jut slightly in that proud, pleased way of hers. ‘How nice of them. And well deserved for you, too. Honestly, darling, you make that Collette woman sound a complete amateur.’

‘That’s not all,’ I said, smiling as I thought about the post-show team meeting. ‘Andy, my boss, was so thrilled about the public response that he’s asked me to contribute to the website with a weekly blog about how I’m getting on. How cool is that!’

‘Fantastic!’ she said, reaching over to hug me, but wincing at the movement almost immediately. ‘This stupid head of mine,’ she said, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment and putting a hand to her temple. ‘Honestly, the slightest thing . . .’

‘Are you okay? Shall I get you some painkillers?’ I asked. Even though Gerald had told me privately that she’d been suffering with unbearable headaches and sickness every evening, she was usually adept at covering up in front of me.

She opened her eyes warily. ‘I can’t have any more until six o’clock now,’ she said and forced a smile. ‘Not that I’m clock-watching or anything.’ She pulled a face. ‘I’m okay. Just can’t wait for this wretched chemo to start. Even if I’m as bald as a coot by the end of it, I won’t care as long as it gets rid of the tumour. I just want everything to go back to normal, that’s all.’

I held her hand, stroking the soft, verging-on-translucent skin and trying not to think about the chemo needle entering her veins.

‘Me too,’ I said. ‘Me too.’

Chapter Twelve

Grilled

Jess

There was a knock on the door at seven o’clock on Saturday night. Charlie had just gone out to meet a mate, and I assumed at first it must be him coming back to pick up something he’d forgotten.

It wasn’t. Instead, Shelley, Gemma and Nat were standing on the doorstep, beaming.

‘Surprise! We’re kidnapping you for the evening!’ said Shelley, grabbing me by the wrist and pulling me over the threshold.

‘What do you mean? What’s happening?’ My fingers were all sudsy from washing up the dinner things. ‘You’re
kidnapping
me?’