Simply Divine Read Online Free PDF Page B
Author: Wendy Holden
evening dresses
29
that Jane could barely imagine getting her own right leg into. As Champagne's grudge against her seemed to have completely dissolved under the hot studio lights and the attention, Jane bit the bullet and suggested, after the shoot was over, that it was time to talk through the first instalment of Champagne Moments.
'Well, it had better not take long,' Champagne snapped, looking at her diamond-studded Cartier watch. 'I've got a colonic at three,' she announced. 'Then a leg wax. Then Rollo's picking me up.'
'Fine,' said Jane briskly, fishing out her notebook and flicking the ballpoint release mechanism of her pen. 'Let's be quick then. Talk me through your week. What have you been doing?'
Champagne, slumped on an orange box in the studio with her elegant legs wound round each other, fished a cigarette out of her snakeskin Kelly bag. She lit it and frowned. 'Ah/ she said, addressing the far wall. 'Um,' she added. 'Er,' she finished.
Jane felt panic rising slowly up her throat. Of the many difficult situations she had imagined Champagne Moments might involve, the one in which Champagne was unable to remember anything she had done had never occurred to her.
'Um, I saw in the Sun that you had been out with Robert Redford when he came to London earlier this week,' Jane prompted.
A slight pucker appeared between Champagne's perfectly-plucked eyebrows. Robert Redford, Robert Redford, her bee-stung lips mouthed silently. Robert Redford. After a few minutes of profound frowning, a faint glow of remembrance irradiated her face. 'American! she pronounced triumphantly.
Jane nodded eagerly, encouragingly.
''Actor! Champagne added a few seconds later.
Jane nodded again.
'Oh, yah,' pronounced Champagne eventually, her face glowing with the promise of full recollection.
The promise remained unfulfilled. Champagne could remember nothing more.
'I suppose I had a lot of QNIs last week,' Champagne concluded. 'Quiet Nights In.'
Heart sinking, Jane realised this was not going to make four sentences, let alone four pages. And if she returned to the office without the fourteen hundred words of sparkling copy Josh wanted, it wasn't going to be Champagne D'Vyne who got the blame. Why, if he'd wanted an It Girl, hadn't Josh simply signed up Tara Palmer-Tomkinson, Jane seethed to herself. She, at least, had the two vital skills Champagne lacked — the ability to string a sentence together and some idea of what she'd been doing all week.
Sighing, and sending up a silent prayer to the god of ghostwriters, Jane took her mental pickaxe and determinedly and repeatedly attempted to break the surface of the substance which lay like impenetrable rock between Champagne and her ability to recall anything whatsoever that had happened to her in the past few days. Thank goodness she had taken those notes when Champagne was on the phone.
It took several increasingly frantic phone calls a day for the rest of the week before Jane managed to extract enough information to make up the first column. The latest Gorgeous had been about to hit the printing presses, but Josh insisted the issue was held until Champagne Moments was written and slipped in at the last minute. At the end of the week, Jane staggered, utterly drained, into Josh's
31
office and handed over four pages of print-out to her boss. Heart hammering, she sank on to the sofa and folded her arms to await the verdict. It was always nerve-racking showing Josh a piece. Few things ever seemed to come up to the standard he demanded. She crossed her fingers so hard that it hurt.
Josh read. He clapped his hands and rocked with mirth. He laughed so much at the Guifstream stories that his monocle fell out. 'It's hilarious,' he gasped, dabbing his streaming eyes with the handkerchief from his top pocket. It's fantastic. A star, my dear, is born.'
Damn, thought Jane, uncrossing her fingers.
32
Chapter 3
Whatever it was Tally desperately wanted to discuss, she wasn't going to
29
that Jane could barely imagine getting her own right leg into. As Champagne's grudge against her seemed to have completely dissolved under the hot studio lights and the attention, Jane bit the bullet and suggested, after the shoot was over, that it was time to talk through the first instalment of Champagne Moments.
'Well, it had better not take long,' Champagne snapped, looking at her diamond-studded Cartier watch. 'I've got a colonic at three,' she announced. 'Then a leg wax. Then Rollo's picking me up.'
'Fine,' said Jane briskly, fishing out her notebook and flicking the ballpoint release mechanism of her pen. 'Let's be quick then. Talk me through your week. What have you been doing?'
Champagne, slumped on an orange box in the studio with her elegant legs wound round each other, fished a cigarette out of her snakeskin Kelly bag. She lit it and frowned. 'Ah/ she said, addressing the far wall. 'Um,' she added. 'Er,' she finished.
Jane felt panic rising slowly up her throat. Of the many difficult situations she had imagined Champagne Moments might involve, the one in which Champagne was unable to remember anything she had done had never occurred to her.
'Um, I saw in the Sun that you had been out with Robert Redford when he came to London earlier this week,' Jane prompted.
A slight pucker appeared between Champagne's perfectly-plucked eyebrows. Robert Redford, Robert Redford, her bee-stung lips mouthed silently. Robert Redford. After a few minutes of profound frowning, a faint glow of remembrance irradiated her face. 'American! she pronounced triumphantly.
Jane nodded eagerly, encouragingly.
''Actor! Champagne added a few seconds later.
Jane nodded again.
'Oh, yah,' pronounced Champagne eventually, her face glowing with the promise of full recollection.
The promise remained unfulfilled. Champagne could remember nothing more.
'I suppose I had a lot of QNIs last week,' Champagne concluded. 'Quiet Nights In.'
Heart sinking, Jane realised this was not going to make four sentences, let alone four pages. And if she returned to the office without the fourteen hundred words of sparkling copy Josh wanted, it wasn't going to be Champagne D'Vyne who got the blame. Why, if he'd wanted an It Girl, hadn't Josh simply signed up Tara Palmer-Tomkinson, Jane seethed to herself. She, at least, had the two vital skills Champagne lacked — the ability to string a sentence together and some idea of what she'd been doing all week.
Sighing, and sending up a silent prayer to the god of ghostwriters, Jane took her mental pickaxe and determinedly and repeatedly attempted to break the surface of the substance which lay like impenetrable rock between Champagne and her ability to recall anything whatsoever that had happened to her in the past few days. Thank goodness she had taken those notes when Champagne was on the phone.
It took several increasingly frantic phone calls a day for the rest of the week before Jane managed to extract enough information to make up the first column. The latest Gorgeous had been about to hit the printing presses, but Josh insisted the issue was held until Champagne Moments was written and slipped in at the last minute. At the end of the week, Jane staggered, utterly drained, into Josh's
31
office and handed over four pages of print-out to her boss. Heart hammering, she sank on to the sofa and folded her arms to await the verdict. It was always nerve-racking showing Josh a piece. Few things ever seemed to come up to the standard he demanded. She crossed her fingers so hard that it hurt.
Josh read. He clapped his hands and rocked with mirth. He laughed so much at the Guifstream stories that his monocle fell out. 'It's hilarious,' he gasped, dabbing his streaming eyes with the handkerchief from his top pocket. It's fantastic. A star, my dear, is born.'
Damn, thought Jane, uncrossing her fingers.
32
Chapter 3
Whatever it was Tally desperately wanted to discuss, she wasn't going to
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