Page 44 of Bad Influence


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‘Luce, I want to talk more, but I think I’m needed. I’ll call you again later.’

‘Okay, good luck.’

I walked slowly towards Mandy.

‘Is everything okay?’ I asked.

‘Have you got a new job already?’ she quipped, as I joined her by the entrance to the bedroom. The rest of the team had disappeared to the kitchen for refreshments.

‘Er, no,’ I replied, biting my lip. ‘Should I?’

‘Julie-Ann’s read me the riot act. I come in peace.’ Her eyes looked warmer, and she held out her hand to meet mine, giving it a gentle squeeze and then letting me go.

‘It’s okay.’ I gave her a wary smile.

‘What’s the news then?’

‘My sister – she’s having a baby boy,’ I said. ‘It’s her second.’

‘How lovely for her,’ she said unconvincingly. A moment passed between us. She looked as though she was going to say something else and then thought better of it.

‘Yes, it’s great news. We thought she’d stop at one.’ I smiled.

‘She’s lucky,’ Mandy murmured and turned back to join the crew, signalling the conversation was closed.

The shoot went much more smoothly after that. We ripped up the tear sheet for aristocratic styling and put Mandy at the centre of every photo. The conversation we had shared earlier seemed to have had an impact and she appeared much more thoughtful. Although she’d still be giggling for no reason one minute, the next she appeared spaced out, or she’d get obsessed with a little detail on an outfit. I felt equally perplexed by Mandy’s push-me, pull-me attitude. One minute telling me her secrets, the next making me feel like I was for the chop.

As I watched her, I couldn’t get the ovulation stick I found this morning out of my mind and had a pang of regret for telling my sister’s baby news to her so flippantly. Mandy may have thought I was being insensitive. It may be a fertile window for her, but with Jose away, it was unlikely to yield the result she was looking for. There were so many things about her that I couldn’t get a handle on.

Chapter Twelve

Mandy arrived at dinner that evening wearing the cashmere rollneck dress she’d refused to wear on the shoot, and some incredible lab-grown diamond drop earrings from Astrea London, which were worth north of ten thousand pounds. The same ones she had declined to wear all day, claiming they were ‘fake’, despite me informing her that not only were they a sustainable choice but almost entirely devoid of impurities, graded to a more superior quality than mined diamonds. Finally, the news seemed to have sunk in and they appealed to her, just hours before the security guard would be arriving to collect them.Typical.Yet, I wondered if this was her way of making a peace offering to me, by acknowledging that I did know what I was doing after all.

Blair, Coco, Jimi, and I sat around the dining table watching Mandy poke her tofu, raw radish, and artichoke salad. I scrutinised her every mouthful, praying she wouldn’t spill anything on the cashmere, because I’d have to use my expenses for dry cleaning before it could be returned.

After a few forkfuls, she laid down her cutlery and moaned to Coco, ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can do any more of this food. I feel bloated and disgusting. What’s thepoint of having a nutritionist if I’m not getting thinner?’ She looked at Coco so disdainfully, it made the slight woman recoil into an even smaller space than the one she naturally occupied.

‘Mands, the idea was never about weight loss.’ Blair leapt to Coco’s defence. ‘It was about health – you know, less saturated fat, more vegetables, enough protein, complex carbohydrates. Afertility-inducing diet.’

‘Complex carbohydrates?’ Mandy spat the words out feebly. ‘As if my life doesn’t have enough complexity already. I’m getting older by the second, and coupled with this strange “lady of the manor” persona everyone seems to want me to adopt, it’s just not working. Today I lost twenty thousand followers. Twenty K. Why is it only me who can see this is a problem?’

I looked at my plate and prodded a piece of rubbery tofu. I thought it best not to point out that we’re all getting older by the second.Though, to be fair, she has a point about the salad.

‘Plus, someone commented on Instagram today that I have no right to be in the UK, because I’m fat trailer trash,’ she continued, with a howl. ‘And that post had thousands of likes and its own Thread. It’s not working. Do you all hear me? We need to go back to what I know – make me look thin and young, dial up the filters, get some serious face and body tune on every image before it leaves this building. Up the sex appeal. And ditch the shit food!’

To emphasise the point, she pushed her salad bowl across the table with such force that Coco leapt up and dashedaround to stop it shooting off the end. Her face collapsed in misery.

‘I actually think the tofu is good,’ Jimi said absently.

I sank into my seat and sighed. Mandy seemed to have completely forgotten everything we talked about on the shoot. The atmosphere felt thick and awkward as we all avoided eye contact, especially with Mandy.

It was depressing. I really thought I’d had a small breakthrough earlier – something seemed to have got through to her, and in my mind, I could see so clearly how we could turn this around for Mandy. The question was how to get her to see it too.

I can’t style someone who is afraid of who they really are; someone so unhappy in her own skin.

Then a thought came into my mind. I took a deep breath. ‘Can I make a comment?’ I asked bravely.

‘Another one?’ she snarled, glancing sideways at me. This time I didn’t look away. ‘Okay, go ahead’ – she sighed – ‘but it will make no difference.’ Mandy’s voice had an edge, but she was looking at me, suggesting she wasn’t completely against engaging.