Chapter Nine #3
‘Do you feel amazing?’ asked Jody, beaming enthusiastically.
‘The whites of your eyes look so clear, Amber. Take a look.’ She encouraged me to survey myself in the mirror on one side of the dressing room, all the while Blair trailed me.
‘Don’t be surprised if you feel euphoric as the blood rushes back to your extremities. ’
‘My lip is still bruised,’ I commented, checking myself in the mirror.
‘The ice will have helped,’ Jody informed me. ‘Highly oxygenated blood will be flowing to that area right now, believe me, it will speed up your recovery.’
‘What about you, Mandy?’ Jody looked at my boss.
Mandy moved her arms through the sleeves of the warm dressing gown and pulled the belt tight at her waist. With her hair pulled back and minimal make-up she looked different – even more beautiful. I wondered whether the forty-five years she claimed to be her age on Wikipedia was correct.
I hadn’t really thought about children in relation to Mandy until now.
There had been rumoured pregnancies over the years and speculation in the media, but nothing ever confirmed.
She seemed to be nailing superstardom, a permanent smile across her face, her success and achievements plastered almost everywhere you looked online, so I never imagined she might be struggling in any way.
I felt a softening towards her after learning her intimate secret.
As an observer, it would be easy to assume that Mandy had it all – the luxury lifestyle, wealthy husband, house, cars, and a wardrobe far beyond the wildest dreams of most normal people, but the one thing she really wanted – the top of her list – was to be a mother.
I felt for her on that level, although it was the other part that intrigued me the most, the way Mandy spoke of a baby as if it was a commodity or the latest fashion trend.
Was it ethical to see a baby as something to give a celebrity currency – a spread in HELLO!
magazine? What exactly did she mean by that?
‘I feel fantastic – energised.’ She smiled. ‘And lighter, even. Like I shed a tonne off my mind as well as my body in there.’ She turned to look at me intensely. ‘Do you, Amber?’
‘I definitely feel invigorated,’ I replied.
It felt as though Mandy was holding secrets and I wasn’t quite sure whether I was being manipulated by her, or if she was just being honest.
After the session, when my fingertips had thawed, Blair and I accompanied Mandy to a nearby café.
She was back to her usual chirpy self, chatting easily about the merits of oat milk over almond in hot coffee, but how she preferred soya in Frappuccinos.
For a whole thirty minutes I experienced no double takes or unwanted comments from anyone about my top lip, which I took as a positive sign that it was returning to a normal size and colour.
‘So, what have you got me for the shoot tomorrow?’ Mandy quizzed as I sipped my coffee, grateful for the warmth in every sip. Before I could tell her about the natural hair and make-up and country pursuits theme I had in mind, Blair spoke. They had been reading a message on their phone:
‘ Tatler won’t commit,’ Blair said, reading it out. ‘“We are interested in following Mandy’s career in the UK … blah blah … but … blah blah … Let’s talk again in a few months.”’
‘Cruel,’ sneered Mandy.
‘It’s not a total no,’ offered Blair, replacing the handset face-down on the table. ‘It’s just not right now.’
‘Which is basically a fuck-off,’ clarified Mandy. ‘Well, they can fuck off when they’re desperate for me for the front page in a few months’ time. They only sell a handful of copies a month anyway. And print is over, it’s all about online. Where I have … what is it now, Blair?’
They seemed to know exactly what she was referring to and quickly overturned their phone again and opened the Instagram app.
‘One million, eight hundred thousand and ninety-seven followers. Oh, and the new content is up on YouTube, where you have – wait – fifteen million subscribers worldwide!’
‘Exactly. I think that tells us enough about where our efforts should be. Right, Amber?’ She looked at me pointedly.
‘Absolutely.’ I smiled. ‘The content is up already, is it?’ I uttered.
‘Sure is. Look how cute you look.’ Blair held up their phone again, pausing the video on an image of me in my swimming costume in the chamber, looking like something that had just arrived in a morgue.
On cue, a young woman approached us cautiously.
She was dressed fashionably in skin-tight leather-look leggings and big platform black boots.
‘I’m so sorry to interrupt. But are you Mandy Sykes?
’ she asked, as I detected an American accent.
‘I’m a huge fan. I subscribed to Bravo TV over here especially to get reruns of your shows.
I love you! Are you making something in the UK?
It would be so cool if you did. I’m so happy you’ve moved here.
I can’t wait to see how you enjoy living in the countryside!
’ she trilled, the verbal diarrhoea an attempt to mask her nervousness.
I looked at Mandy. It was as if all the lights in the house were turned on. The mega star came out to play, large, wide smile, twinkling eyes, and high energy. ‘Aww you’re so sweet! I love your boots. Would you like a selfie?’ she replied loudly, as every head in the café turned to stare.
‘Oh wow – yes, please,’ said the girl, lifting her phone, and the two smiled cheesily for a photo. ‘Thank you so much. This is amazing!’ She turned to me. ‘I hope your lip gets better. The cryotherapy must have helped. Aw, it looks so painful.’
I slunk back into my seat, muttering, ‘Thanks.’
Mandy had barely registered her comment to me. ‘Not well-known enough,’ she said. ‘Let’s see about that.’
As the girl left the café, Mandy was visibly stoked. ‘Who cares about the magazines. Doing our own photoshoot is the way forward,’ she said cheerfully. ‘This way we can have complete control and use it all for my social platforms and YouTube.’
‘And don’t forget the Mandy Sykes Homeware range we shipped will be arriving tomorrow, so we can get product placement in all the shots; fluff up the beds and sofas,’ Blair added.
‘Plus, we need to get your new loungewear collab with H&M in as many photos as possible, especially the track pants as they are new this season.’ They were scrolling through a list on their phone.
‘Oh and the collagen shakes and – fuck – the body chains! I don’t think they’ve arrived yet.
’ Their face went pale momentarily. ‘Did anyone tell you about the body chains, Amber?’
‘Um, no.’ I looked at Blair blankly. ‘I’m not sure body chains and tweed are exactly—’ They looked at me with narrowed eyes, suggesting this wasn’t the right answer.
‘Julie-Ann had this great idea about Mandy jumping on the trend for body adornment currently sweeping Hollywood and making it accessible over here. We’re working on securing a collab with a jewellery brand – you know, a Swarovski, Pandora, Carat.’
‘Bvlgari would do nicely,’ Mandy interjected.
‘We may have to lower our ask,’ Blair muttered. ‘We need to be realistic, Mands.’
‘But not too real.’ Mandy glanced at them. ‘We have standards. Don’t we, Amber?’
‘Right, so to be clear, you’re seeing this as loungewear meets slinky chains?’ I checked. ‘I thought Julie-Ann was after something a little more … aristocratic.’
‘Let’s call it Sloane with sex appeal. It’ll be fine, Amber,’ Mandy replied.
‘I’m sure you can tie it all together. That’s what you stylists do – you can wave your magic wand over it all.
There are a number of commercial partnerships to satisfy, that’s all.
My “bread and butter” – isn’t that the phrase? ’
‘We can use different areas for different themes, there’s plenty of space,’ Blair added optimistically. ‘There’s no such thing as “no can do”. Right, Amber?’
‘Right. We’d better get back then.’ I smiled nervously.
‘Jose should have left by now.’ She picked up her phone and glanced at it to check the time.
‘He’s about to take off to New York for a few days, to secure some more …
’ she paused, ‘… endorsements. I thought that next week, I could throw a little cocktail party – Julie-Ann’s offered to invite a few of her UK clients over for some drinks: TV presenters, influencers, authors, life gurus, those types of people.
Do you have a partner, Amber?’ she asked, changing the subject.
‘I do – he’s called Rob, we’ve been together for a couple of years.’
‘Charming!’ she squealed. ‘Shame we can’t invite him too.’
‘It’s no problem,’ I said shyly, doubting that Rob would actually want to come to the party after hearing about my experience so far. That’s if he was still speaking to me. I thought about the weird phone call again, it was really playing on my mind.
‘It’ll be like a kind of housewarming, only hotter.
If the chains don’t make the daytime pics, they can come out for the evening.
We’ll get plenty of content. If Tatler thinks I’m unfit for their society pages, they can stick their …
’ Her voice trailed off because we were saved by Blair’s phone buzzing.
We glanced down instinctively, and I was relieved it was a call to tell us her chauffeur had arrived.