Geli Voyante's Hot or Not (23 page)

Chapter Twenty-N
ine
 

‘What are you smiling about?’

I am stood in front of one those clever mirrors, one that allows you to see yourself from all angles. Let’s just say, if you could see what I’m seeing right now, you would not be smiling. Even the boutique’s flattering light is failing to do its hideous-fixing job, but it has a task and a half to make
this
look good. This being a dress by
Ramone
.

Now Ramone is a beloved London designer who has praise lavished upon him – I’m
normally a big fan of his collections – but it will be my duty to warn the world of his terrible blunder in next Saturday’s column, even if this will destroy the nice streak of my past few columns where I have spun negatives into positives. Not even the most ardent Spin Doctor could spin this though. My public must be warned.

‘The dress is hideous,’ I tell her.

‘That’s not why you’re smiling though,’ Tiggy snaps. ‘And I quite like it. What’s wrong with it?’

I now know without a shadow of a doubt
that Ramone’s bridesmaid collection will make Tiggy’s “Fabulous” column, even though I can recall every fashion critique slating it when it was debuted at last week’s New York Fashion Week. He’s a Brit-traitor when it comes to Fashion Week, another reason he’s Not Hot for once again turning his back on London.

‘What’s
right
with it?’ I mutter.

The dress is pink. Shocking neon pink. It
is knee-length with the full-skirt effect from the tulle, but it has enough tulle underneath the silk to make it stick out about a metre either side of me. I look like I am wearing a pyramid. My width has increased to three metres, so I probably won’t even fit in the chapel. Admittedly, that’s a selling point. A huge red satin bow sits at the back of the dress and it’s cut in such a way that the top of the dress covers most of my neck upwards, where garish red-sequined hearts are. My neck is itching furiously from them. The cost of this Princess-feeling creation? A whopping £5,600.
Discounted
. Personally, I doubt Ramone could give it away. I wouldn’t take it off his hands if he paid me the
non
-discounted price of £16,250.
A-huh.

‘Well?’
Tiggy demands.

‘It’s a one-off, Tiggy,’ I cleverly tell her. ‘I thought you wanted
us matching?’

‘Yes, Angelica,’ she snaps
again, causing the hovering assistant to flee. ‘I get that you hate the dress, so why are you smiling?’ Her South African twang is more pronounced when she’s angry.

I knew
this wouldn’t last and the arguing had to start sooner or later. I know she’s pissed off that I’ve managed to avoid her for the past few weeks so she couldn’t partake in her favourite Geli-torturing past-time and now, heaven forbid, I’m daring to smile without her permission.    

‘Theo.
’ She did ask. Maybe now she’ll shut up.

‘Theo?
’ 

There’s a hint of surprise in her voice. I bet she thou
ght we’d broken up and the reason for my absence is because I’ve been hiding out in my bedroom broken-hearted.

‘He’s heavenly in the bedroom de
partment,’ I confirm gleefully. Well, he did tell me to tell her.

‘Does he do that thing with his stubble?’ she asks, then snaps her hand to her mouth
, genuinely looking horrified.

WHAT
? I know exactly what
thing
she is on about, but how does
Tiggy
know
that
very intimate gesture?

‘Stella told me,’ she blurts out.
‘They had a fling.’

Stella… Stella? Ah,
Stella! That girl who works with Tiggy at
Glitz
. The one who told me about Tiggy’s nasty flare-up. What. A. Slut.

‘Theo and Stella?’ I
query in surprise.

I feel quite hurt
that Theo gave her one of his presents. Realistically I should have expected them to be his signature move.

‘Yep
, and if you ask me, she’s still sniffing around him.’

Her kind tone suggests a sisterly-niceness, but this is Tiggy. Tiggy who has just dressed me in
this dress for her personal amusement. Suddenly her hand flying to her mouth seems very obvious – obvious she was waiting for the perfect moment to “slip” out this potentially Theo-shattering news. Well, tough cookie, Miss Boodles. I’m wise to your games.

‘Well,’ I reply sweetly. ‘S
he won’t get very far.’

‘She’s quite the predator,’ Tiggy cautions oh-so-
faux
-nicely.

‘Tiggy
, he’s with me all day at work,’ I tell her, with a roll of my eyes. ‘And when we’re not at work, we’re together in the evenings and at weekends. Unless she tries to seduce him right in front of my eyes, she won’t succeed. Although now if I see her within two metres of Theo, I’ll scratch her eyes out,’ I add.


You’re together
that
much?’ She crinkles her nose at this.


I met his parents last weekend and I’m meeting his best mates tonight.’

‘Well,’ she says softly.
‘I’ll warn her away if she mentions him to me.’


Do.
For her sake
.’

Of course I
wouldn’t really scratch her eyes out, but I’m not having some jumped-up slut who looks like Stella hit on my boyfriend. Yes, she may have had him once before if Tiggy is telling the truth but, from all accounts, he’s had lots of women... I’m fine with that. F. I. N. E. I’ve had a lot of men, even if my definition of “a lot of men” won’t come close to Theo’s figure. Anyway, who cares who he’s had in the past, as long as there is only me in his present and future?

‘Y
ou’re really that close then?’

‘Yep, he’s great
. You know how that must be with Calvin.’

‘Oh, yeah,’ she replies unconvincingly. ‘Calvin’s
fab.’

‘Jitters?’ I kindly ask.

Maybe Calvin has found out Tiggy faked her charity work photos! First, the lies. Second, the arguments. Finally, the break-up. Hurrah!

‘It’s nothing,’ she says.

‘You can tell me,’ I press.

Part of me is being nice for genuine reasons, but the gossip part of me is sniffing out some seriously juicy
news here. Tiggy gossip is the best, especially if she is suffering.

‘You always
were a good listener.’ She smiles. ‘I remember when you dished out all that advice to me after my grandfather died. You were the only one who got what I was saying and knew how to fix it.’

Are we having a moment here?

‘It was common sense,’ I dismiss. I do not want to take a trip down Memory Lane.

‘No, no, Geli,’ she scarily insists. ‘You’re a really good listener, a good person to go
to advice for. You’ve always had a way with words.’

There
’s an awkward pause. ‘Ummm, thanks.’

We really are having a moment here
. Should I hug her? She seems a little downcast.

‘I mean it, Geli. You’re wasted on your column.’

Is this Tiggy being sneaky to get me to leave
New News
so she can claim my spot on the paper?  It wouldn’t surprise me.

‘E
verything bad seems to happen to me, so I guess I relate to other people’s problems through my life,’ I breezily tell her. I’m not going to confess to her of all people how wasted I’ve felt in my job of late.

‘Geli Voyante’s Real Advice!

‘It has a nice ring to it.
’ I smile politely, but agony aunt? As if! Aren’t most of the “letters” faked by the editorial team anyway? She really wants my job, doesn’t she?

‘Is everything
OK?’ a voice interrupts us before Tiggy can dish out some more lame careers advice in an attempt to steal my job.

Impressive, it
’s Ramone himself. He launches at Tiggy first. Kiss-kiss. Exclamations of how gorgeous she’s looking. For once she’s not in a tiny outfit but is wearing skinny Hudson jeans, UGG boots and that winter white rabbit fur coat again. Still hideous. Teasing is next – is she really not pregnant? Is she sure this is not a shot-gun wedding because she looks so glowing, daaaaaarling?

‘I need to know!
’ Ramone is a man keen for gossip. ‘I’m making your dress!’

‘How is my dress?’ she breathes out in this quivery voice.

She sounds genuinely happy, but I hope she’s not opted for virginal white. It would dazzle in the sun, but it would be a bit of a lie, even if she
hasn’t
with Calvin. Though that explains why we’re here if Ramone is making her dress. I wonder who called in
that
favour. I also wonder who is paying for it. A rushed Ramone wedding dress will be costing my father, no doubt, an utter fortune. I hope he remembers he has his real daughter’s wedding to pay for soon, even if Claire won’t want to have a big, lavish affair.

‘It’s nearly done.
’ She predictably squeals in response. My eardrums... ‘And Miss Geli,’ he says, finally turning his attention to me as Tiggy bashes out several text messages, no doubt informing Ursula and her motley crew about this update. ‘You’re also looking resplendent.’

‘Thanks
,’ I say flatly.

I can’t help but wonder if Ramone really thinks that
, or whether he’s just good at his sales patter. I’d probably believe him if I couldn’t see for myself in the multitude of mirrors how frightful I look. Like a pink bridesmaid meets a fairy princess with a splash of the Queen of Hearts thrown in for bad measure.

‘It won’t do though,’ he sadly says turning to Tiggy. ‘It will clash terribly with your dress.’

‘It will,’ she says like she’s only just considered this.

See. T
he only reason she’s put me in this dress, fit only for some weird costume production, is for her personal amusement. Evil bitch.

‘How sad,’ she adds
unconvincingly. ‘It is a scrumptious dress and it suits Geli
perfectly
. Ramone dear, you are
so
clever.’

Liar. Time to get back into
civilian
clothes because panto season is over.

‘I
f only she was blonde like her stepsister though,’ Ramone muses, like I’m not there.

‘Oh, she is!
She just chooses to dye it
that
colour,’ she says like my hair is offensive. ‘Most people would kill to have Geli’s natural hair colour. I know I would!’ She winks at him. ‘It would save me a fortune and the hassle at the hairdressers, but,’ she continues with another wrinkle of her nose, ‘she prefers it
that
way.’

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