On Saturday Jessica moved into her aunt’s house in Hampstead, having long since realized how misjudged her original decision to reside at the Dorchester had been. How much more normal to stay in an ordinary house that was comfortable, yet basic and tiny compared to what she was used to. Pam told her it had been built in Victorian times, over one hundred years ago, a fact that astounded Jessica, though also explained why the house felt so quintessentially English and quaint. The decor clearly hadn’t had a facelift since the eighties, which only added to the house’s charm as far as Jessica was concerned; although she’d been baffled beyond belief to discover there was no laundry room in the house. Just a solitary machine in the kitchen, which Pam claimed both washed and dried clothes. Incredible.
On Sunday Jessica woke up glad not to have any real plans for the day. Her workmates’ brand of humour took no prisoners and constantly trying to decipher who was and wasn’t being sarcastic made her brain ache. At least she was starting to remember people’s names though and she also felt like she was making headway with a couple of the girls. Kerry, in particular, and Isy.
‘Je-ess,’ her aunt hollered up the stairs, interrupting her thoughts.
‘Yeah?’
‘There’s someone here for you, love.’
‘Pardon?’ cried Jessica, not sure she’d heard right.
‘There’s someone here for you.’
Jessica sat up. Who could possibly be here? Angelica was in LA; not that they’d spoken since Graydon had dragged her from their breakfast. No one from work would turn up unannounced on a Sunday morning, so it had better not be Edward. She’d be furious if it was. Suddenly she could hear feet thudding noisily up the stairs in her direction so she quickly hopped out of bed, feeling horribly nervous. What the hell?
‘Surprise!’
The door to her room was flung open and there, standing in her doorway, was none other than Dulcie.
‘Dulcie!’ exclaimed Jessica. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Same as you, sweetie, ripping it up in London town. How are you, baby?’
‘I’m … I’m totally in shock. Oh my God, it’s so good to see you but I –’
‘Oh, shut up and give me a hug, will you,’ ordered Dulcie and Jessica, who didn’t have a better plan, did as she was told.
‘But when did you get here?’ asked a still-staggered Jessica. She wished she could get more excited, but her overriding emotion at this precise moment was a nagging annoyance that Dulcie should have told her she was coming.
‘Last night. I flew in, went straight to the Berkeley where I’ve been sleeping like a baby ever since. Soon as I woke up I got my driver to bring me here.’
‘But I thought you were going to give me some warning about when you were coming,’ said Jessica, through faintly gritted teeth. ‘How long are you here for anyway?’
‘Just a week,’ said Dulcie.
‘But you know I have a job now, right?’ said Jessica, feeling panicky. ‘So I won’t be able to hang out with you every day.’
‘Hey, quit stressing, will you? I’m sure we can come up with some great excuse for your boring old job. Anyway, who cares about that? We’re here to have some fun.’
‘But …’
‘No buts, now come on, get dressed, my driver’s waiting and I have an appointment at the bridal section of Harrods in forty-five minutes.’
‘OK,’ Jessica whimpered, already missing the sense of independence she’d experienced for such a brief time. ‘I’ll come, but seriously, Dulcie, we need to talk. I’m so happy to see you, but I also want to spend some time with Pam today and I am telling you now that I can’t miss work on Monday, or any other day. I’ve only been there a week for crissakes and, anyway, this is the first time in my –’
‘Chill out, will you?’ admonished Dulcie. ‘Pam’s fine and I’m not going to make you miss work if you don’t want to. I know you’re on some mission to wear a hair shirt and be really poor and miserable and bored like everyone else, so who am I to stop you?’
‘Idiot,’ said Jessica, but she was laughing.
‘Though I hope you’ve sorted out coming home for your dad’s party. Mr G’s pining for you and he’d never forgive you if you weren’t there.’
‘Of course I have,’ Jessica lied, making a mental note to sort that out as soon as possible … somehow. ‘OK, give me five minutes to get dressed and washed properly, will you?’
Dulcie nodded happily and went to sit on Jessica’s bed, pulling her iPhone out of her Vuitton bag so that she could text someone, looking ridiculously glamorous in her Pucci dress and Prada wedge heels.
‘What is this job you’re doing anyway?’ she asked idly.
‘It’s pretty cool actually,’ replied Jessica, wriggling out of her pyjamas and wrapping herself in a towel. ‘I mean, it’s not what I want to do for the rest of my life, but Kerry, who I work for, is awesome. Then there’s a girl called Isy who’s kinda crazy but very sweet. Vanessa, who I think is lovely, though I can’t understand a word she says. Then there’s Mike, who’s away at the moment, but who’s really good-looking and friendly. In fact, there’s only one person I’m not sure about and that’s this guy Paul, who can be so nice at times and then, at others, really confrontational and opinionated.’
‘Sounds like someone’s got a crush,’ said Dulcie, still texting busily.
‘Who, Mike? No way,’ protested Jessica. ‘He’s married and not my type at all.’
‘Not Mike, Paul.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ said Jessica, frowning. ‘You obviously weren’t listening.’
‘Whatever,’ grinned Dulcie, not convinced. ‘So you haven’t said what it is you actually do in this office of yours.’
‘I assist the celeb booker on The Bradley Mackintosh Show at the BBC,’ said Jessica, halfway out the door by now and headed for the bathroom.
Dulcie immediately stopped fiddling with her phone.
‘You what? You’re kidding me? Why didn’t you say that before? I love that show. I watch it on BBC World all the time. Oh my God, Jess, you’ve got to get me on. My dad went on it years ago and his album sales practically doubled the next day. This is just the exposure I need.’
Jessica’s heart sank. Damn it. Dulcie could be like a dog with a bone when she got an idea in her head, and this was one of the most terrible she’d ever had.
Later that evening a rather subdued Jessica and a faintly hostile Dulcie got the tube over to Mike’s house. The appointment at Harrods had been surprisingly fun, but what hadn’t been so enjoyable was Dulcie’s incessant nagging to get her on the show.
By now her bottom lip was wobbling dangerously, as for the life of her she couldn’t see what harm it would do to simply ask the question. However, for Jessica, the words ‘Can my friend who’s ever so slightly famous in LA, only not in her own right and not for anything in particular, come on the show for no reason other than she’s marrying a guy who was runner-up on American Idol?’ weren’t ones she ever wanted to utter.
‘But why can’t I just phone your boss directly?’ whined Dulcie in a last-ditch attempt. ‘That way you don’t even have to get involved.’
Jessica sighed heavily with frustration. ‘Because the answer will still be no, and if it wasn’t, which it would be, she’d probably end up finding out we know each other and the game will be up.’
‘Fine,’ said Dulcie, knowing that when Jessica had really made up her mind about something there would be no budging.
‘Fine,’ repeated Jessica grumpily, staring out of the window as they approached leafy Chiswick and Turnham Green station. ‘We’re here.’
They got off the train and by the time they were at the ticket barriers Dulcie had clearly decided to try and make amends. In fact, she’d changed her tune completely and for once seemed content to admit defeat.
‘I’m sorry, Jess,’ she said. ‘I promise not to bring it up again, OK? I can tell this job is important to you so I won’t ask again, all right?’
‘OK,’ said Jessica, feeling relieved, though not entirely convinced that this would be the end of the matter.
‘And thanks for forcing me to take the subway,’ added Dulcie. ‘It was quite fun, actually. A little unhygienic but OK,’ she said, pulling out some antiseptic hand gel from her Vuitton bag and smothering her hands in it. When she started to pat it on her face, as if she were a man putting on aftershave, Jessica’s sense of humour finally returned.
With the aid of Jessica’s A to Z the two girls managed to find Mike’s house fairly easily, though when they did they were surprised by how normal it looked. In LA successful producers lived in enormous, palatial homes, whereas Mike’s house was a similar size to Pam’s.
‘This is it?’ said Dulcie incredulously, voicing exactly what Jessica herself was thinking, only in such a way that made her feel ashamed for doing so.
‘Of course,’ said Jessica firmly. ‘What were you expecting? Not everyone can live in a palace like the execs we know.’
Dulcie rolled her eyes behind her friend’s back and waited patiently while Jessica carefully let herself in with the keys that Mike had given her. The second the door opened the alarm started to beep ominously and the two girls squealed and shrieked with panic until Jessica had keyed the correct numbers into the pad. Once it was off and it was clear that they were safely in, they both giggled with relief before making their way through to the back of the house.
‘Oh my God,’ said Dulcie, her nose wrinkling. ‘It’s so tiny, it’s like a freaking doll’s house.’
‘Shut up,’ said Jessica, slapping her friend on the arm affectionately. ‘You sound like such a snob. Anyway, it’s not that tiny – it’s only a bit smaller than Pam’s place.’
‘I am not a snob,’ retorted Dulcie. ‘I’m just saying.’
Jessica unlocked the French windows in the open-plan kitchen then went outside. She found the hose at the side of the house and switched the tap on.
‘Can I have a go?’ asked Dulcie.
‘Sure,’ replied Jessica. ‘But in a minute, it’s my turn first.’
Taking it in turns, the two of them gave the thirsty, lawned, forty-foot garden a satisfying soak, both enjoying the simplicity of a task that neither of them had ever done before. The grass revived before their very eyes, the dry soil lapping up the water gratefully.
Job done, they made their way back through the house, Jessica having made sure she’d locked everything behind her. As she did so, a framed picture in the kitchen caught her eye. She went over to get a closer look and Dulcie followed, curious to see what she was looking at.
‘Is that Mike?’ asked Dulcie.
‘Yeah,’ replied Jessica. It was Mike and an attractive-looking lady who Jessica presumed must be Diane, his wife, and a cute little girl with curly but scraggly ringlets framing her cheeky face. The three of them looked incredibly happy and Mike’s wife looked lovely. She had long, dark-brown hair and a beaming smile. She was wearing a pretty floral dress and was tanned, so they were probably on holiday.
‘His wife’s kind of fat, isn’t she?’ said Dulcie cheerfully.
‘Oh my God, look at your boss’s dick,’ exclaimed Dulcie and Jessica’s eyes travelled downwards to see that the T-shirt Mike was wearing only just covered what looked like … oh my word … small, almost indecently tight trunks that left nothing to the imagination. Embarrassed to have seen the outline of her boss’s testicles, Jessica averted her eyes.
The two girls travelled back to Hampstead in comfortable silence, only this time in Dulcie’s chauffeur-driven car, which Dulcie had summoned to meet them. (As far as she was concerned, the tube was an experience not worth repeating.) Jessica’s mind kept returning to the picture they’d seen in Mike’s kitchen and not just because of Mike’s tight trunks.
‘They looked so happy,’ she said suddenly.
Dulcie answered straight away, without even needing to ask what she was referring to. ‘She’s a lucky little girl. They sure do look like the perfect family.’
Later that night the weather became oppressively hot and muggy so Jessica was not surprised to wake up on Monday to the sound of thunder roaring across the sky. As she snuggled back under her sheets, she realized how pointless their watering expedition had been, given that right now Mike’s garden was getting a complete drenching. For a fraction of a second she felt rather envious of Dulcie who, in her luxurious suite, with no responsibilities, could wake up any time she liked with the day spread before her to do with as she pleased.
Still, once she was up and showered, having negotiated the temperamental plumbing in Pam’s guest bathroom, Jessica was raring to go, although the novelty of catching the tube was starting to wear off a bit. In fact, that morning’s was one of the most tiresome journeys yet. She had to stand the entire way, so was pleased to be greeted at work by some positive news.
The ratings for last week’s show were in and it was confirmed. Helena Davies had been an inspired booking and an utter triumph.
‘I’ll have to buy you a drink, Jess,’ Kerry was saying across her desk as Paul walked through the door.
Jessica’s heart sort of twanged in her chest when she saw him. He was wearing jeans and a grey sweatshirt, so nothing special, but for whatever reason he looked really good. Oh, great, she thought dolefully, remembering what Dulcie had said. Developing a crush on someone so unpredictable was not what she needed.
‘Hi, Paul,’ said Kerry. ‘Good weekend?’
‘Fair to middling,’ he replied enigmatically. ‘What about you, fatty?’
‘It was OK, thanks,’ said Kerry, tapping away on her keyboard. ‘The spa was lovely anyway. The hotel was a bit “travel tavern” but you get what you pay for, I suppose.’
‘Well, you look … exactly the same as you did before,’ he laughed, hopping away as Kerry took a swipe at him with a magazine.
‘I’m just on Facebook, actually,’ she said good-humouredly. ‘I’m changing my status to “Kerry Taylor has still got spa face”.’
Isy, who was busy putting Bradley’s various autograph cards into separate piles, started to laugh. ‘What the hell is spa face?’
‘Well,’ said Kerry, ‘my hair was covered in oil and, as you know, it’s a bugger to control at the best of times, so I looked like the Medusa. I had red lines on my face from where I’d been lying with my head through one of those hole things and I was dribbling.’
‘You paint an attractive picture,’ chimed in Luke from across the office. ‘Wish I could have been there to see it.’
‘Attractive I definitely wasn’t,’ retorted Kerry, picking up her coffee mug and realizing it was empty.
‘I don’t get the appeal of Facebook,’ interjected Penny, the vision mixer, who had come into the office to catch up on her paperwork and was sitting at Julian’s desk. ‘I mean, why do you feel the need to tell everyone you know about your weekend?’
‘God knows,’ said Kerry, ‘but it’s a laugh, I suppose. In fact, are you on it, Jessica? Where are you? I’ll add you as a friend and then you too can benefit from my hilarious status updates. After you’ve made us a cup of coffee that is.’
‘Oh, yes,’ she said, still distracted by the sight of Paul rolling up his sleeves and flexing his fingers as he prepared to type. He had lovely forearms, she thought, as she crossed the office to put the kettle on. ‘I’m in the group LA LA Land and listed as Jessica Gra–’ Just in time, she thought about what she was saying. ‘Actually,’ she said quickly, spooning Nescafé into a mug and selecting a herbal tea for herself, ‘I’ve just remembered. I’m not on Facebook any more. I stopped it before I came away.’
‘Thought you weren’t,’ said Paul distractedly.
‘How would you know?’ said Natasha, as quick as anything. ‘Did you look for Jessica on Facebook, Paul?’
Paul, who had but didn’t really know why, refused to rise to the bait. ‘You know me, Tash. I’m a nosy bugger. Didn’t look for long though. Do you know how many Jessica Benders there are on Facebook? Bloody hundreds.’
‘Well, I’m not on anyway,’ Jessica said, feeling flushed. She made a mental note never to check her page while at work. Apart from anything else, people might be surprised to see that Leonora Whittingston was one of her ‘friends’.
‘But why come off now?’ asked Natasha, screwing up her eyes suspiciously. She could be irritatingly persistent. ‘What with you being away from home, I would have thought you’d want to keep up with your mates.’
Jessica just shrugged and looked away, stirring Kerry’s coffee more vigorously than was strictly necessary.
‘Look, can we forget about all this Facebook bollocks, please?’ said Kerry. ‘As much as I’d like to revel in the glory that was last week’s show, we’ve got another one to think about now and we’re a guest down … again.’
The office settled down and a relatively peaceful morning’s work ensued. Later that afternoon, an hour or so after everyone had returned from lunch in the canteen, Jessica was so engrossed in an email which Kerry had asked her to draft to an agent that when at first she heard a familiar voice it took her a moment or two to register it was one that didn’t belong in the office.
‘Hi, hi there, how are you today? Do you know where Jessica sits? Actually, scrap that, I see her … hi …’
Jessica spun round in her seat as if someone had just poked her with a hot iron. ‘Dulcie!’ she hissed. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’
She could hardly believe her eyes. Her best friend was standing in the middle of the room, looking like a peacock that had lost its way. She was dolled up to the nines, resplendent in a mixture of Versace, Alexander McQueen and Marc Jacobs. The most subtle thing about her outfit was her nail varnish and that was fluorescent orange.
‘Hi, honey, surprise … again,’ she said, an infuriating lack of caution in her voice. ‘I thought I’d pop in and see how you were doing. You were being so strict about not taking any time off so I decided to come to you.’
Jessica was furious. How dare she jeopardize everything? She couldn’t even say anything because every single person in the office had downed tools to have a good stare. Including Paul. There was a chance she was about to hyperventilate.
‘Who are you?’ asked Kerry, giving Dulcie a very thorough once-over.
‘Dulcie Malone. Friend of Jessica’s,’ said Dulcie, swaggering over to greet her. ‘And you are?’
‘Wondering what you’re doing here,’ Kerry answered in a flash, completely deadpan.
‘I’m so sorry, Kerry,’ said Jessica, desperate to gain some control of the situation. ‘I did tell my friend that she wasn’t supposed to come here,’ she said between gritted teeth. ‘That I was working …’
‘So you’re Kerry,’ said Dulcie. ‘Oh my God, Jess has told me so much about you. You book the guests, don’t you?’
Instantly Jessica understood very clearly what this visit was all about, which only made the desire to scream at Dulcie even stronger.
‘Yes,’ said Kerry, looking at Dulcie with barely concealed contempt, while Natasha just looked downright suspicious, as if a rather large penny was about to drop. Horrified, Jessica was propelled into action.
‘Dulcie, can I talk to you outside for a second? People are trying to work in here and you’re being very distracting,’ she said, leaping up to manhandle a startled Dulcie through the office. ‘Let’s catch up out here,’ she hissed, shoving Dulcie out of the door and into the corridor. ‘I’ll literally be a minute, Kerry,’ she called over her shoulder. ‘I’m very sorry, back in a sec –’
In the corridor, Jessica let rip. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing? You know I don’t want anyone here to know who I am. How selfish can you be?’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Dulcie, looking a little regretful for the first time since she’d arrived. ‘I just thought if I came here myself, I could make your boss see that I would be the perfect guest. You were so … closed off about helping me. Isn’t this the best way to get what we both want?’
‘No,’ hissed Jessica. ‘It isn’t, and what I want is to try and cope on my own for once, with none of the baggage of who I am getting in the way, which you know. So you’re completely out of order because now people will suspect that something’s up. Look at you. You look like you’re going to the freaking Emmys or something.’
At this point Dulcie had the good grace to look mildly shamefaced. ‘I’m sorry, OK,’ she muttered. ‘I didn’t realize the office dress code would be so casual and I didn’t mean to upset you. I guess I didn’t really think it through.’
‘No, you didn’t,’ agreed Jessica.
‘Is my outfit really too much?’
‘Aaerrrugh,’ wailed Jessica and Dulcie looked properly worried for the first time.
‘OK, OK, what should I do?’ asked Dulcie. ‘It’ll look weird if I just disappear.’
Jessica shrugged, feeling utterly defeated. She slid down the wall in a crumpled heap of despair.
‘Oh, don’t be like that, Jess,’ rallied Dulcie. ‘You’re giving up. Now come on. We can make this work. Just leave it to me and try to remember …’ she stopped for a dramatic pause.
‘What?’ snapped Jessica.
‘We’re AmeriCAN, not BritISH.’
And with that she swept back towards the production office.
Jessica willed herself not to cry. She knew she should get up but felt too immobilized by the dread of what Dulcie might do next. Still, leaving her unattended wasn’t an option either. Taking a deep breath, she got back on her feet and willed herself back into the office, where her fate was about to be sealed, one way or another.
‘So, anyway …’ she could hear Dulcie saying to Kerry as she walked through the door. Her heart sank as she saw that Dulcie was perched on the corner of Kerry’s desk in a presumptuous manner she just knew Kerry wouldn’t be appreciating.
‘… not only is my dad Vincent Malone, but I’m also marrying Kevin Johnson. You know, the guy who was runner-up on American Idol last season? He was the guy who everyone thought should have won. So, on top of my own talent and project, I would have so much to talk about.’
‘Can you get off my desk?’ asked Kerry, sounding highly irritated.
‘So how exactly do you know Jessica then?’ asked Natasha, who was swinging back in her chair, observing the whole scene like a lion who’d spotted a lone impala at the watering hole.
‘Ah,’ said Dulcie, turning to Jessica and giving her what she obviously thought was a reassuring wink. ‘I was just coming to that. You see, her dad is …’
‘Oh, be quiet,’ interrupted Jessica in a flash. ‘No one wants to hear about my boring old dad. Boring old Mr Bender,’ she emphasized.
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said Natasha. ‘I think it all sounds fascinating.’
Luke was clutching his sides as he tried not to laugh out loud. Paul wasn’t quite so amused by the whole scene.
‘If you’ll just give me a chance, Jess,’ said Dulcie. ‘I was about to say that your dad, Mr Bender, is my dad’s chauffeur, which is how Jess and I know each other. And just because he’s a chauffeur doesn’t make him boring,’ she finished, looking terribly pleased with herself at this extra ad lib.
Help, thought Jessica sorrowfully.
‘Your dad drives Vincent Malone?’ said Kerry. ‘You didn’t tell me that.’
‘You didn’t ask,’ replied Jessica weakly.
‘Is that how you knew about him being on the show?’
‘He’s been his driver for years,’ said Dulcie, getting on a roll. ‘Have you seen the film Sabrina with Audrey Hepburn? Jessica’s life is a bit like hers. We’ve kind of grown up together, yet we’re worlds apart.’
At this point Luke got up and excused himself from the room, shoulders heaving. Natasha was the only one who looked slightly impressed, though her cool demeanour prevented her from showing it. Besides, she wasn’t just impressed, she was also consumed with jealousy to discover that Jessica was friends with someone so glamorous and that her life overlapped with proper Hollywood stars.
‘I like your dress,’ she said now, casually. ‘McQueen, isn’t it?’
‘Yeah,’ confirmed Dulcie enthusiastically.
‘Thought so,’ said Natasha. ‘I’ve seen it in Elle.’
Paul rolled his eyes and grimaced in Dulcie’s direction. Jessica could tell she was his idea of hell. Too awful even to bother taking the piss out of. Today she almost agreed with him. Somehow, in this environment, Dulcie was coming across far worse than she ever would at home.
‘Well,’ said Kerry, contempt oozing from every pore, ‘while I can only imagine how lovely it must have been for Jess to grow up in such close proximity to yourself, Ms Malone, in answer to your request to be a guest, the reply is no. You’re not our sort of guest, I’m afraid, and we only have people on who have something to talk about that involves themselves. Not just their dads.’
‘Are you sure about that?’ said Paul sarcastically. ‘Scarlett O’Hara here might make for some good old-fashioned car crash telly.’
‘Excuse me,’ said Dulcie indignantly, and Jessica briefly considered leaping from the window. ‘I don’t know who you think you are, but I am in the room, you know. Who the hell is this guy anyway?’ she asked, turning to Jessica for enlightenment.
‘Paul,’ she mumbled, wishing he hadn’t felt the need to be quite so harsh.
‘Really?’ squawked Dulcie. ‘Him?’ Her incredulous expression said it all.
Jessica glared at her, hating herself for caring more about what Paul thought than her oldest friend.
‘I’m probably going to book Lisa Wright this week anyway. Her plot lines are pretty huge right now,’ said Kerry flatly.
‘Lisa who?’ said Dulcie, looking downright deflated, but still not having clicked that it was most definitely time to call it a day.
‘Wright,’ sighed Kerry, who’d noticed Julian looking very doubtful. ‘I know it’s not ideal, but trust me, I think she’ll be OK. Besides, I can always cancel her if someone better comes up last minute.’
‘Er, hello?’ flapped Dulcie, indicating herself.
‘Not you,’ Kerry snapped.
Jessica held her head in her hands, like a small child watching Doctor Who, who was too frightened to look properly, scared of what she might see. Only when Dulcie had finally got the hint and announced she was leaving did she look up again.
‘I’ll see you out,’ she said.
‘Make sure you take her right out of the building,’ said Paul drily.
‘Oh, I will,’ said Jessica.