‘What on earth are you wearing on your feet? We have to go in!’she says, panic in her voice.
‘The pedicure woman stole my shoes, Isy, what can I do?’ I shrug helplessly, secretly delighted. ‘Don’t you think they almost work, though?’ I look down and wiggle my toes, pleasingly.
I was going to tell her about my afternoon with the vagina cult, but it’s clear Isy’s not in the mood. She sighs impatiently, hopping from one foot to another. Despite thewarm early evening temperatures, she must be freezing her tiny ass off in the smallest, tightest dress I’ve ever seen. I love it and completely approve. I think women should be as cold – or as hot – as possible, at all times, just to prove a point to those judgy types whotemperature-concern-troll you about your outfit choice.
You know what I mean? ‘My goodness, aren’t youcoldin that?’ isa comment that is only ever intended to make you feel insecure. Likewise, when I’ve still got my jacket on at a party and someone’s like, ‘Wow, you must be boiling!’ It is never the heat making me uncomfortable, it isYOUtrying to make me remove my clothes. And, honestly, fuck off mate, I paid a hundred and forty quid for this Zara coat, it goes with my shoes, soI AM KEEPING IT ON YOU WILL NOTMAKE ME FEEL SHIT ABOUT THIS.
Isy flicks her perfectly coiffed hair over her shoulder and regards me critically. Hermake-up is expertly applied in that way that makes her look like she’s hardly wearing any, even though I know for a fact she is wearing all themake-up that exists in the known universe.
‘Wow,’ I breathe out. ‘You look stunning.’ She smiles widely and I see the tensionleave her shoulders. ‘Thanks, I only used ethically sourced, organicmanure-basedmake-up,’ she says, trying not to look at my feet. ‘You look nice, too.’
I’ve pretty much only brought one Really Nice Dress along on my travels. It’s long and yellow and makes my boobs look momentous. I’ve been carrying it around all day so it’s nice and crumpled, but I’m still enjoying feeling dressy.
‘Cheers,’ I say, cupping my chest proudly. I reach for Isy’s arm. ‘So how did you get us into this tonight?’ I ask as we head slowly inside. ‘Are you nominated for an award or something?’
Her stride falters. ‘Um, no. Maybe one day! But not this time.’
‘How then?’ I ask, suddenly suspicious. I’ve just noticed there are no other people in fancy outfits around. No red carpets, no paps screamingfor attention.
‘How, Isy?’ I say louder this time. ‘Did your new boyfriend, Ethan, get us in?’
She shakes her head. ‘Um, don’t be mad, Alice, but we’re actually ... seat fillers.’
I stop. ‘Wait, what?’
She continues in a rush. ‘We’re seat fillers. When the actual attendees go for a wee or to take coke in the bathroom, we have to sit in their seat. It’s so the auditorium neverlooks empty on camera. You have to be on hand during the show to run in if a celeb vacates their chair. It’s actually a huge honour and you have to know all the right people to even be asked to do this. I had to pull so many strings for this.’
I consider it for a second. Aseatfiller? ‘This is ...’ I pause and she looks worried. ‘This is theCOOLEST THING I’VE EVER HEARD!’
She laughs,relieved by my reaction.
‘Isy, this is so epic! Not even Constance Beaumont got to do something like this when she was travelling around California! I could be sitting in for Meryl Streep. I could feel the warmth of Meryl’s bum on my own. I bet Meryl has lovely warm buttocks, y’know? Not too hot like she’s farted, but just comforting and cosy levels of warm. Will I be able to take a pictureof Meryl’s bumcheek imprint before I sit on it?’
Isy shakes her head. ‘No, definitely not. You have to be cool, Alice. Seriously, or they’ll chuck us out. No pictures, noAWOLupdates, and you’ll have to sign anon-disclosure agreement as we go in. Plus, there is no way Meryl will be here.’
‘Oh. Well, still.’
‘I mean it,’ she insists. ‘You can’t be ... well,you. You have to be polite,no backchat to the men upstairs. You have to be nice, quiet and discreet.’
‘Great,’ I say sarcastically. ‘It’s 1954 in there.’
She rolls her eyes at me. ‘Fine, yes, tonight you are a Handmaid, got it? And it’s all top secret. What happens inseat-filler club stays inseat-filler club. Not thatnon-disclosures really mean that much to anyone any more. Not since Harvey and Donald.’
I nod. ‘I’ll be cool, I promise.’
I’m thrilled. After failing to get recruited by a cult, this is exactly the kind of celeb silliness I was hoping for from California. A seat filler! This is going to be so much fun.
OK, it’s notthatfun. We’re currently huddled in a corner of the main hall with the rest of the seat fillers: a large group ofconfident-looking regulars. A stern manhas already shouted at us not to talk to anyone, not to behave badly, not to have any fun at all, actually. He keeps singling me out to scream about how I’m not paying enough attention, but dude, I get it. We are not allowed to drink or eat, we are not to speak to any invited guests, and even eye contact with celebrities is fiercely discouraged. Our job is to blend in, to avoid drawing any kindof attention at all, and smiling is outlawed.
I made that last bit up, but it feels that way.
There was a moment of awe when they eventually lead us into the arena where the ceremony is happening – the high ceilings and glittery décor has clearly cost serious big bucks – but then we were dumped in this dark corner. Out of view, out of the way, with orders from the dickheadseat-fillerconductor not to speak. Isy and I do anyway, breathing out in low whispers whenever someoneimportant-looking arrives, but we are well into the show before I spot anyone actually famous. If I’m being honest, I am fairly bored.
Until. Suddenly there is action.
‘Go.YOU, go,’ the boss is violently hissing at me, grabbing me by the elbow and throwing me towards the audience. I glance backand he smirks at me like he knows something I don’t. What is his problem? He’s probably jealous I get to join the celebs while he’s stuck in the corner on his power trip.
Oh my God, an actress I recognise from one of my favourite telly shows is gliding out of her seat in the second row. We pass each other and she is dazzling up close. For a moment, I forget the instructions shouted at me mereminutes ago, and I look her full in the face. She is irresistible, she is a goddess, I cannot resist her celebrity pull. We make eye contact and she winks.
