LIFELINE
“This way, this way.” Jamie was pulling Kate by the hand as they scurried towards the shade of a large oak tree.
“Why are we hurrying? What’s the rush?” Kate knew they still had a good two hours before Jamie had to leave for her agency and was amazed at how her friend could move so fast in heels. There she was, sensible Kate, going at half the speed in her trainers whilst Jamie was practically sprinting in skyscraper objects of torture. To be fair, Jamie’s legs did appear double the length of hers, so Kate attributed the difference in speed to this.
“Duh, the midday sun darling. Wrinkles, wrinkles. If we don’t stay out of it, we’ll be going back to Malcolm Barnes for a full face of Botox too.”
Kate looked flatly at Jamie. “This is friggin’ London, not Mallorca, we’re lucky it’s not raining.”
“I know, I know, but I’m seeing my agent, tempestuous Tabitha, afterwards. She’ll only find more reason to have a go if I turn up with a red face too. And besides, extra wrinkles won’t help keep me at twenty-five.”
“I don’t want to burst your bubble Jamie”—Kate huffed, out of breath, finally at the tree—“but Madison’s pushing eleven, unless you were having underage sex, you can’t be twenty-five. No, No, I don’t even want to know.” Kate pulled a face, as the pair fell about laughing.
Taking out a neatly folded pale blue scarf from her bag, Jamie laid it carefully onto the grass. If she was going to see her agent, the last thing she needed were grass stains on her bottom. After Jamie had texted Kate suggesting the park, Kate had dashed into Marks every drop counted.
Having failed to tempt her with the sandwich. Kate pulled out a small pot of hummus with some carrots and celery. “What about this?”
Jamie shook her head.
The moment was now. Kate returned the crudité back to the bag and looked Jamie squarely in the eyes. Jamie backed away. She had a feeling she knew what was coming. Kate was going into mothering mode.
“Jamie, this is ridiculous. You have to start eating. You’re fading away.” Jamie failed to respond. “It’s ageing you know.”
Jamie gave her a dirty look.
“This is nuts. I’m sorry Jamie, but you’re going to make yourself ill. Maybe I’m not one to talk. I fully acknowledge that I have an eating disorder. I think about my weight and food all the time. But … I control my eating disorder and from the looks of it”—she said softly—“you’re letting yours control you.”
Jamie looked glum. “Maybe it is an eating disorder, but it’s not being controlled by me. It’s being controlled by the industry I’m in.”
Kate picked up another piece of sandwich and, not taking her eyes off Jamie, munched away at it, allowing Jamie the space to continue. Jamie looked up at the sky and sighed. “I know it’s hard to understand. You see me as this skinny girl, and I get that’s how I look to the outside world. But I don’t work in that world. They don’t want us to look like everyone else. That's the whole point. They tell me I could lose more weight off my thighs, that my face could be more angular.” Jamie sucked in her incredibly chiselled cheeks to make a fish face, and lighten the mood somewhat. “But the thing is, I have to be this thin to work.”
Kate continued nodding, worried that if she spoke, Jamie might stop.
“Okay, think about today. How you felt stepping behind that curtain. That’s me every time I step into the agency or go to a casting. Every inch of me is being scrutinised. They might as well have me under a magnifying glass. They see everything. And trust me, the lighting is never flattering. Sure you get used to it, the stripping off, the weighing, the measuring, like a piece of meat, but that’s really all you are. A commodity for them to use to sell stuff. And once you don’t look how they want you to look, there are thousands of girls, younger, slimmer, hungrier, waiting to step into your stilettos. So when I say I can’t eat. It’s because if I do, my family won’t.”
“Blimey Jamie.” Kate suddenly felt guilty for having a go at her friend. She never imagined it was that hard.
“People don’t get it. They see what they want to see. The clothes, the travel, the pictures in the glossies. You tell them it’s hard and sometimes they just laugh at you, saying. ‘Oh poor you, having to pose in front of a camera all day.’ Unless you’re in the industry, you don’t know the industry. The industry owns you until you’re no use anymore and then it spits you out.” Jamie continued, feeling more despondent by the second.
“Okay hun. I get that you’re not controlling this, but it’s just not good for you and, as you said yourself, it can’t last forever. Maybe you don’t have control over this world you find yourself in, but you do have control over your life and the world you choose to be part of. Have you considered what else you might be able to do?”
“Sometimes I fantasise about taking my laptop and just writing for one of those travel or fashion magazines … but this has been my career since I was seventeen. Everyone books me for the way I look. I don’t know how to be anything else.” The reality of her predicament felt heavy on her shoulders.
“Jamie, do you remember on the beach when I was feeling guilty about Salsa Man? You gave me the pizza analogy, and that made perfect sense.”
Jamie nodded, and a smile crossed over her face at the memory of that blissful day.
“Well, that conversation changed everything for me. What you did with all your pizza talk was open up another perspective,” Kate said, noticing Jamie’s eyes wandering as she clocked a group of young men playing volleyball nearby with their shirts off. “Stay focused,” Kate said laughing. Once Jamie had peeled her eyes away from the topless guys, she continued. “Allow me to return the favour. Because, my darling friend, sometimes when we’re in a situation, we can’t see the answers ourselves and that’s why we have friends.”
Jamie was now fully focused on Kate, who put down the sandwich. She didn’t need to be spitting food at Jamie whilst imparting her wisdom.
“Jamie, you’re not twenty-five.”
“Ouch. Are you trying to make me feel better? It’s not working.”
“I’m not trying to make you feel worse. I want you to face the truth. The key to a fulfilled life is to sample as many experiences as you can, but also not to get stuck.”
Jamie looked blankly, and Kate wished she could find a metaphor like Jamie’s pizza one.
“Look, Jamie, what I’m trying to say is this. Life is like a mountain and sure, we’re all trying to get to the top, but it’s not just about reaching the top. It's also the journey.” Kate noticed that she now had Jamie’s complete attention. “The top of your mountain at this moment is earning money, and the path you’ve chosen is modelling—a path filled with potholes and bushes that are tearing at your skin. But if you just stopped and looked around, you might see that there is another path. A path with roses on it. There’s even a pizza shop,” she said jokingly and Jamie laughed.
“Because Jamie, you’re not enjoying this path and you’re so, so wrong in thinking that modelling is the only thing you can do. You’ve just got to stop for a moment and … throw some spaghetti on the wall.”
“Throw some spaghetti?”
“Yup. So somewhere, probably in Italy, to check whether spaghetti is cooked or not, they throw it on the wall and if it sticks, they know it’s ready. What you have to do now is throw some spaghetti at the wall. The spaghetti, in this instance, being other employment opportunities. Jamie, you have to because this is killing you, and if you continue, your family won’t eat nor will they have you.”
“Throw some spaghetti? I don’t recall my mother ever throwing spaghetti?” Jamie looked bewildered but Kate could tell that she was beginning to get through to her.
“I don’t know Kate, I’m just lost. I don’t know what to do or where I’m supposed to be. I thought if I moved back to London, work would take off again and life would be more exciting, but it isn’t; I feel more alone and more isolated than before.”
Kate nodded her head in silent understanding, encouraging Jamie to carry on.
“It’s just that everything feels so wrong. Madison isn’t happy being back here. She misses her friends and the carefree way of life, and my mum seems miserable as well. And then there’s me. I just hate everything at the moment, not just the modelling. Hate being in the cold and the rain, the constant fear of crime which I never felt on the island. And what’s more, I even hate the one thing I was looking forward to—the so-called excitement. The fabulous parties with all the ‘fabulous’ people. The truth is they’re not fabulous. It’s all so empty. But what do I do now? I’ve literally uprooted my family for this. I clearly need to throw some spaghetti, and fast.”
Kate squeezed her hand and spoke softly, “I won’t pretend to know exactly how you’re feeling, but I can tell you I’ve had my moments where I’ve felt lost too. The thing is, when I feel like that, it’s usually my instinct telling me that somehow I’ve taken the wrong path in my life and I need to change direction.”
Jamie nodded, relieved that Kate understood; that she was able to be open and honest with her friend. They were both silent as they contemplated the conundrum that Jamie was in.
“Ooh,” Kate said suddenly with excitement, clapping her hands.
“What?”
“Ooh. Ooh.” Kate jumped up and dusted down her jeans, then started walking in circles.
“What? What?”
“Wait …” Kate held her hands up to her face in a prayer-like manner and started tapping her chin with her hands, as if she was trying to access a thought before plonking herself back down again, so close she was practically sitting on Jamie’s lap. Grabbing hold of Jamie’s hands, eyes wide, she grinned. “I think I’ve just thought of the spaghetti for you.”
Jamie felt a shudder of anticipation. Oh God, please let Kate have the answer because she knew without a shadow of a doubt that Kate was right. She had to quit.
Kate started fumbling in the Marks she’d never known anyone to use a grocery bag as an actual bag.
“Not important now, Jamie.” Kate started tapping away at her phone. When she was done, she put the phone down and winked. “Let’s put this conversation on hold for a moment. I’ve just thrown some spaghetti for you.”
“Okay, so back to what we were talking about earlier.” Kate darted her eyes left to right in case anyone might be in earshot, then whispered the word “Sex.” Her face turned a subtle shade of scarlet. “How’s things with Cameron?”
Clocking Kate’s blush and prudish manner, Jamie laughed. “Oh Kate, since you asked, I think I might be done with him. Of course the SEX”—she shouted loudly, secretly enjoying Kate grimacing with embarrassment—“is incredible. Like make you TINGLE in your LOINS incredible, but I’m just bored. I always get bored.” Jamie watched as Kate's face took on a peculiar expression. It was somewhere between embarrassed, intrigued and slightly envious. The thought of hot, rampant sex reminded her of Robert, and her cheeks betrayed her.
Kate paused in contemplation. “It’s interesting, when it comes to men, you have no problem letting go. You need to be the same way with work. Think of modelling like a man that no longer serves you.” Why hadn’t Kate thought of this before? Men were a far better metaphor for Jamie than food.
“And Karl?” Kate questioned, “Stop rolling your eyes. You do that a lot. It’s a valid question. On the beach, you kept going on about how old he is and not your type, but why don’t you just give him a chance? You said that he was mid-thirties. I’m older than that. Do you think I’m old?” Jamie shook her head.
“Is he ugly?”
“God no, not ugly. I suppose for an older man, he’s rather attractive.”
“Grrrrrr.”
“You do know we haven’t even met properly or had a proper conversation, he just happened to be at the same restaurant as me twice. We’re text buddies, that's all.”
“Sounds like fate to me. Y’know, sometimes what we really need is staring us right in the face.”
Jamie smiled. She knew Kate was only trying to look out for her best interests. “Okay, I won’t rule it out. I just don’t want to spoil the friendship, that’s all. And besides, I don’t know what to make of him yet. I mean, look at this …” Jamie reached inside her large black portfolio bag and fished out a book.
“Wow, I’m impressed.” Kate read the cover, “ Raising Good Humans .”
“What on earth possessed you to pick that up? I imagine it’s a tad far removed from your normal reading material, isn’t it?”
“That’s what I mean. Karl suggested I read it.”
Kate groaned. Jamie could quite possibly be the only person in the universe who would be motivated to read a child-rearing book because of a man.
“I like this Karl. This is good. And actually hun, I have an idea. Why don’t we text him now?”
Jamie gave Kate a death stare.
“Hear me out before you look at me like that.” Kate continued to ignore Jamie's glaring.
“I can help you text him. I might have a better sense of what to write to a non-Cameron type of guy. Let’s set up a meeting. Not a date … just a coffee or something … to discuss the book? C’mon Jamie, I’m going to be cut open. I think you can survive meeting up with a potentially nice guy.” Jamie continued to glare. ‘Nice guy’ was always an oxymoron in her book. She was yet to meet one.
“I’ve never texted a guy first in my life.” Jamie looked almost horrified.
“I get that, but if you keep doing the same thing, you’re going to get the same result. Come on, give me your phone.” Kate reached out her hand, but Jamie instinctively pulled her phone away. “Please, Jamie. I’m doing this for you.”
“Okay, but don’t send it. Please. You can write it, but don’t send it.”
In possession of Jamie’s phone and searching through the contacts, thankful there was only one Karl and not twenty, Kate started tapping away.
Jamie: Finished the book.
Thought-provoking.
Would be good to
discuss. Let me know
if you’re going to be
around this week and
maybe we can meet
for a coffee. Jx
Kate held the phone up for Jamie to see but without relinquishing it.
“I can’t send that. You’ve even put a kiss on it,” screamed Jamie, “He’ll think I’m chasing him.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You can make it clear when you meet him if there really is nothing more than friendship. Just drop in an imaginary boyfriend if you need to.”
With that, Kate started edging away. Before Jamie had a chance to grab her phone back, Kate pressed send. Jamie buried her face in her hands. “I can’t believe you did that.”
“Well, I had to. You wouldn’t have and I’ve just got a feeling,” Kate said, putting Jamie’s phone down next to her on the scarf. “Sorry,” she said innocently, “It’s for your own good.”
Jamie appeared to be in shock and there was silence. Neither girl spoke. Kate started to worry that perhaps she’d gone too far, when suddenly, ‘Beep. Beep.’ Both girls looked at each other before making a frantic dash towards Jamie’s phone. Jamie won and with a look of relief. “Not mine. Do you know how to delete a message once it’s sent?”
“I don’t think you can,” Kate said whilst rummaging again in the Marks and Spencer’s bag to retrieve her own phone. As she read the text, a huge smile washed across her face. “Jamie, I want you to listen and be open-minded. You know you said that you didn’t think you had any other skills other than modelling?”
Jamie nodded.
“When we were in Malcolm Barnes’s office, you were so organised, taking notes and everything. Well, the text I sent before was to a friend of ours. He’s a big collector, mostly art. Really old, early forties,” Kate said jokingly, followed by, “Very gay too and not remotely your type.” Just in case Jamie’s mind wandered; she knew ‘gay’ alone wouldn’t be enough to deter her horny friend, who’d likely see it as a challenge. “Anyway, he has this huge collection of art and watches and vintage designer bags worth absolutely millions. He’s been buying for decades, but it’s a total mess. He’s looking for an assistant, someone with good organisational skills, to help him get it all categorised. To begin with, the job would be to sort out the existing collection, but he wants to grow it and is looking for someone to run around to auctions and be his representative. It’s perfect for you!” Kate’s excitement was infectious. She was grinning, looking at Jamie earnestly.
“Art collection?” Jamie was intrigued. “Vintage bags, watches?” Shivers ran down Jamie’s spine. This was almost too good to be true.
“Yup, an amazing collection. But it’s all over the place. Everything needs to be put onto a spreadsheet, indexed, descriptions for each piece written … and you love writing, you just said before you’d love to travel and write. Jamie, this is serendipity. It’s not nine-to-five either. You can work the hours you want and be around more for Madison. I didn’t think of you immediately because the job would be in Mallorca. Nigel is an island friend. We met him years ago. He’s totally nuts, incredibly eccentric, but has a heart of gold. When you mentioned that you miss Mallorca, that’s when it came to me. What do you think?” Kate was bubbling with excitement. Jamie could return to the island. The thought was so blissful she just prayed Jamie would feel the same.
“What do I think?” Jamie beamed, goosebumps rising across her body. “I think you’re my angel. When can I meet him? How do you know he’ll like me?” The thought of finally getting out of modelling was like being set free; shackles being ripped away from her body. Jamie lent over and, with a huge sense of relief, gave Kate a huge hug. “I would love, love, LOVE that job. I adore art, vintage bags, and all things expensive. Oh my god Kate, really? Would he hire me?” A moment of anxiety washed over Jamie.
“Jamie, the job’s already yours. Look.” Kate finally relinquished her phone so that Jamie could read the text.
Nigel: She sounds perfect.
Give her my number
so we can connect and
discuss details.
Jamie could have cried. A small tear did slip out of one of her beautiful green eyes. She was already on the new path.