Chapter Ten #2
‘Sure, sorry. I think I’m still on Miami time. Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you properly, Amber Green. Why don’t I wait up for the courier so you guys can get to bed?’ He directed that question at the dachshunds. I very obviously blushed.
We both stood up at the same time, and as I smoothed my pyjamas, he moved back towards the door to the entrance hall. As he stepped through it, the flickering of the chandelier in the hallway reflected in his eyes.
We paused and I pondered whether, like Jose, Jimi was also one for kissing goodbye on both cheeks, and how I would handle that. I was saved by a buzz on the intercom.
‘Parcel for Amber Green.’
Jimi let the courier in, and when he smiled, I noticed how straight his teeth were on the top and the bottom.
He took the parcel out of the courier’s hands and read the label.
‘The one and only Amber Green, lady of the manor, is right here,’ he said grandly, turning to me with another butterfly-inducing smile.
‘That’s me,’ I said to the courier, embarrassed. I took the parcel from Jimi and signed the docket in the same way I had done at least a dozen times throughout the day. Only this time, my hand was a little shaky and my pulse a little faster.
‘I’ll see you in the morning!’ Jimi called, heading down the hallway towards the central staircase.
I felt a little flower of interest unfurl within me.
When I closed my eyes at around one a.m, I only reached a faint veil of sleep, because I’d forgotten to put my phone on silent. That was me feeling hopeful Rob might message .
At six a.m. on the dot, my phone pinged with a text.
It was Mum. Lucy’s got news!
Swiftly followed by: Don’t tell her I’ve told you.
And thirty seconds later, clearly as an afterthought: Hope all is going well with the job? Call your sister. Love you, Mum x
It was typical Mother – to the point and always first in line with the news. She would do well working at the Daily Mail if her legal career ever took a turn.
Now there was no way I was getting back to sleep for an extra hour. My finger hovered over calling Lucy, but it was going to have to wait, because my call time for the shoot was eight a.m. and I needed to do a final check to make sure everything was in place before Mandy was up.
It had been four days now since Rob and I had spoken.
The longest we had ever gone without communication.
In my mind, we were now in an unspoken stand-off.
He could be stubborn at times, and so could I.
I imagined he was annoyed with me for jumping to conclusions that he had been doing something behind my back, without any solid evidence.
I was smarting because he had not done anything to convince me otherwise.
Or maybe he’s just been busy? I’ll call him the minute we’re finished today.
The exchange with Jimi last night had proved a welcome distraction, but although he was fit, I couldn’t get the image of him wearing all-white Moncler out of my mind. He looked like a lost member of NSYNC. Some people just cannot buy style.
After I had showered and hurriedly dressed into my shoot day uniform of black cigarette pants, a skinny Gucci belt, and an untucked crisp white shirt, which I hurriedly steamed, I was greeted in the main house by Julie-Ann, who had arrived early to begin fluffing the living room.
She had already made a start, plumping up cushions, moving things about on tabletops and checking that nothing unsightly was left on display.
We were shooting in a number of rooms today, including the main lounge and Mandy’s bedroom.
‘Amber, sweetie, how are you finding Surrey life?’ Julie-Ann asked absently, her head at an angle, as she peered sternly at a table and then nudged a vase slightly to the left, before moving it back to where it was. Her sharp blonde bob swished onto her cheek as she moved.
‘Well, the house is amazing, obviously,’ I began, ‘and everything seems to be going well so far.’ I bit my lip and winced, this was a lie, and my lip still hadn’t quite healed.
‘The photographer will be here in half an hour to set up the lights. He’s on the clock, and he’s more expensive than all the clothes you’ve called in, so we need to maximise the time.
We can’t get the bedroom ready until Mandy’s out of there, but you could unpack all the items from the bed linen and beauty range and stack them outside the door ready,’ she instructed.
‘And then set up one of the spare rooms down the end of the corridor, we’ll do a few pics on the bed in there too. ’
Blair appeared as I was unpacking the bed linen.
‘How’s Julie-Ann this morning?’ they asked, peering over their shoulder to check she wasn’t listening. ‘She can be a real witch on photoshoots. She’s the only person Mandy is scared of though, so keep her onside and Mandy will be putty.’
‘Thanks for the tip-off. Any sign of her yet?’
‘Not yet,’ they said, and then tapped my arm, indicating I should follow them.
We wandered down to the end of the corridor and round the corner, out of sight.
‘Between us,’ they continued, whispering, ‘Mandy’s not in a great way at the moment.
Jose’s staying in New York longer than planned because something’s happened.
I’m not sure what exactly, but I heard them arguing on the phone yesterday.
I think that’s the real reason Jimi is over from Miami – he usually runs Mandy’s social media from the States, but with Jose out of town, they think she might need more support. ’
‘And Jimi is reliable support?’ I mumbled, thinking about how Jimi was out at the pub last night, rather than babysitting Mandy. I must have looked a little moony eyed at the mention of Jimi, because Blair shot me a look.
‘Watch out for him,’ they said. ‘Playboy extraordinaire.’
I winced. ‘Tell me more—’
‘Breakfast is ready in the kitchen!’ interrupted a voice from behind us.
Coco materialised out of nowhere and grabbed my arm.
‘No one’s down yet – where are Mandy and Jimi?
’ She pushed me aside. ‘There are freshly made banana, cacao, and chia seed parfaits in the kitchen. And plenty of coffee. As strong as you like. Come and get it!’ Coco skipped off.
If there was an advert for good nutrition, she was it.
Blair looked anxious. ‘It’s weird neither of them is up yet.’
‘Is everything okay?’ I swallowed.
‘You clearly don’t read Starz ,’ Blair replied.
I made a mental note to google Mandy to find out the latest gossip.
We began descending the staircase, Blair in the lead, when Julie-Ann appeared with a sharpness to her voice. ‘Blair. Hi. Can you do us all a favour and wake Mandy up? The day has barely begun and we’re already behind.’ I took this as my cue to slip off for breakfast.
After a few mouthfuls of parfait and two hurriedly swallowed coffees, I was back in the annexe with BBC Radio 6 Music playing, dutifully checking the rail of clothes and line of shoes in the space we were using as Mandy’s dressing area for the shoot.
Lola had arrived with boxes of make-up and an array of brushes, tongs, straighteners, and sprays, which she laid out in perfect symmetry, making the tabletop resemble a display counter in Sephora.
I played around with styling the looks, pressed silk shirts, skirts, and three dresses, and nearly an hour later, there was still no sign of Mandy.
‘It’s not like her to be so late for her own shoot,’ Lola said worriedly. ‘Let’s go and find out.’
Lola and I went back to the main house to find a small congregation gathered outside Mandy’s bedroom door. Blair was attempting to look through the keyhole for a sign of life, but their heavy sigh filled us with little hope she was even awake.
‘Maybe she’s sick?’ I offered.
Julie-Ann didn’t seem to think so. She was now visibly and verbally stressed.
‘This is ridiculous.’ She huffed. ‘I’m giving her five minutes before we bust the door.’ She looked at Blair. ‘Where’s Jimi?’
‘His bedroom door is open, he must have gone out. Maybe for a run.’
‘Great. Brilliant,’ Julie-Ann said. ‘Really helpful.’ Then she paced around the hallway in a fidgety manner, looking at her phone and fiddling with the top of her black, ribbed polo neck, which she wore under a grey suit, giving her a stressed exec vibe.
Every now and again, she pulled the polo neck over her mouth and breathed deeply into it, like it might magically have the effect of an oxygen mask, and give her some extra strength.
Then she would tut, swear a bit, and run her finger along a surface to check for dust and pace around again.
I spotted Philippa hovering around the bottom of the stairs nervously, sucking in her cheeks every time Julie-Ann swore more loudly than was strictly necessary, like blasphemy within these hallowed halls pained her deeply.
The photographer had arrived – a hot-shot image maker who went by the mononym Mart. His name, Blair told me, was actually Martin Rambleswick, but that didn’t sound very fashionable.
‘This shoot has to work. We have all invested so much in this move,’ I overheard Julie-Ann muttering to Mart, as I watched Blair hold a glass against the bedroom door.
‘Jose’s going to lose it if we can’t monetise this trip.
I don’t understand why she’s doing this to us. Blair, you’re going to have to go in.’
Then a noise from downstairs made us all stop what we were doing. The front door opened and Mandy and Jimi appeared from behind it. Our six confused faces stared at them. Neither of them was wearing exercise gear, but they were giggling like naughty school children.
‘Sorry I’m late, we had to see someone about something,’ Mandy announced breezily. She looked as though she was trying not to laugh. ‘Hadn’t we better get started?’
Julie-Ann, wearing a pasted-on smile, responded on behalf of everyone. ‘We sure had, darlings! We’re just glad you’re both okay. You had us a little worried there.’
Jimi looked sheepish and ran his fingers through his curls.
‘Morning, Amber.’ He smiled, catching my eye. ‘Thanks again, for last night.’
Blair turned to me and mouthed, Last night?
‘He was locked out!’ I snapped.
‘Sleep okay?’ I asked Jimi, trying to look casual.
‘Not enough hours, but I took two Ambien, slept like a branch. Anyone else need coffee?’
I sniggered. ‘You mean a log.’
‘Eh?’
‘You slept like a log. Don’t worry.’ I shrugged, my heart beating hard and fast against my ribcage. Blair seemed to sense this and sideways-glanced at me.
‘Jet lag is a killer this way. Nearly two weeks and I’m still not over it. I really need coffee. Do you want one, Mandy?’
‘Yes, please, Blair will look after us,’ she replied. ‘Where do I go for glam?’
‘Over to the annexe please,’ Julie-Ann commanded. ‘Lola, let’s get her into hair and make-up. Amber, take Mandy through the clothes and then get the bedroom styled.’
Like clockwork, our glam squad sprang into action, treating Mandy like a real-life Barbie doll.
Blair thrust a coffee into her hand, Lola linked her arm firmly – the equivalent of a headlock – and I led the way towards the annexe.
Within seconds Lola had curlers in Mandy’s hair and was starting on her make-up.
She seemed in a peculiar mood this morning and continued to giggle as she asked Lola to pay particular attention to plucking her chin hairs, and then claimed the make-up brush Lola was using was ‘too tickly’.
I popped back to the house and got to work in Mandy’s bedroom, styling the items from her soon-to-launch homeware range, which included 800-thread-count Egyptian cotton bed linen, buttery smooth to the touch, and a plush cream bedspread with flecks of gold running through it.
It felt personal to be in Mandy and Jose’s bedroom without anyone present, and it looked as though she had left in a hurry this morning because her dressing gown was strewn on the floor, and there were toiletries open on her dressing table. I carefully tidied it all up like a hotel chambermaid.
As I changed the pillowcases and artfully arranged a pile of scatter cushions at the top of the bed, I noticed something poking out from the top drawer of her bedside table.
At first, I thought it was a pregnancy test. I couldn’t help myself pull it out a little further and could see then that it was in fact an ovulation stick.
I knew this because I remembered Lucy using them when she was trying to fall pregnant.
There was a smiley face on it indicating a fertile day.
I thought of the conversation Mandy and I had shared in the cryotherapy chamber, and how cryptic Jimi had been this morning.
I wondered whether her fertility issues were what they had been discussing last night.
To preserve Mandy’s privacy, I pushed the stick out of sight, right inside the drawer.
But, as ever, I wondered if I’d ever really know what was going on in Mandy’s life?