Tease (21 page)

Georgia decided it was high time her and Lewis made more of a public statement as a couple, thinking perhaps she could somehow coax Lewis towards spending more time on Georgia’s career endeavours if they had a more ‘official’ relationship. Certainly the odd snap in the gossip pages and diary columns as a handsome couple would put her on the celebrity map. In fact, she had always planned from day one that Lewis would be the key to building her public profile; she was distinctly frustrated that it hadn’t happened yet. Georgia nosily sifted through the pile of invitations slung carelessly on Lewis’ coffeetable with the junk mail.

‘Lewis honey, why don’t we go to a party tonight?’

Lewis grunted from across the room without looking up.

‘I said let’s go out tonight,’ repeated Georgia loudly.

‘Turn that crap off, I can’t hear you.’

Georgia pointed the remote over her shoulder and flicked the sound system off.

‘Well, it’s just that you have all these invitations to posh events, how come you don’t go to any?’ Georgia persisted.

‘Boring.’

‘What do you mean?’

Lewis sighed and closed his laptop with a snick. He looked straight over at Georgia who looked like a petulant gangly child curled up in his enormous sixties leather couch.

‘If you must know, they don’t do it for me. I leave those things to Tiger. It’s work for her, she needs to be seen out and about once in a while; keeps the gossip rags happy and she gets to see some old faces for a bit of a gas. She turns up, gets photographed, has a glass of warm champagne, listens to the gossip, and then leaves. What am I gonna do there? These things are generally teeming with fashionistas, celebrities and vacuous, talentless clothes horses masquerading as ‘models’, ‘actresses’, ‘presenters’ and ‘stylists’. I don’t work with these people, I work with producers, agents, corporations and all the other folks at the back end of the pantomime horse.’

‘Okay grumps, so it’s all
passé
for you, but I still haven’t been to any good society parties since I joined the Starr lets. I think it sounds like fun. Can’t we just go out for one night?’

‘You’ll be bored, trust me.’

‘Okay, so if it’s all rubbish we’ll just leave, and I’ll treat you to a nice nightcap at Annabel’s.’

Lewis looked at Georgia through narrowed eyes before nodding his head slowly.

‘Okay then, you’ve got yourself a deal. Take your pick. Nothing too naff please.’

‘Well, I heard Tiger saying she was going to some gallery event tonight so let’s go there.’

Lewis shot a stern look at Georgia. ‘I work with Tiger, I don’t socialise with her.’

‘Come on!’ pleaded Georgia. ‘Otherwise I won’t know anyone and you’ll be stuck talking to me all night …’

‘Oh god. Good point. Okay fine, the gallery it is. God knows what I’ve let myself in for.’

‘Yay!’ Georgia punched the air.

‘Well, you’ll need to call the Hunter Gatherers’ offices and speak to Kat. Ask her to rsvp on my behalf and tell them that I’m attending with a plus one.’

‘Er – I’m not just a plus one you know, I have a name.’

‘For god’s sake. Is it really that important?’

‘I’ll put both our full names down,’ Georgia insisted. ‘Oh, and Lewis?’

‘Hmm?’

‘If I’m going to make an impact I’ll need to buy a new dress. This afternoon.’

‘Tiger!’

‘Over ’ere, Tiger!’

‘Tiger, to your left please!’

‘Tiger, this way, smile!’ She struggled not to blink with the flashes as she stood before the wall of paparrazzi.

‘Tiger, straight in front!’

‘Lift your head up, Tiger, straight ahead!’ Tiger shifted on her feet slightly for a new pose.

‘Over ’ere!’

‘To your right, Tiger!’ She felt her jaw tightening and her cheekbones tensing as she tried to hold her ‘pap’ smile a little longer.

‘This way, Tiger, give us a smile!’ God she recognised
that
face. That was …

‘One more straight ahead please, Tiger!’

… Rosemary Baby? Surely not.

‘This way, Tiger!’ What was Rosemary doing amongst the crowds? Tiger was convinced she had just seen her staring from the other side of the velvet ropes with that big ol’ ugly face of hers, fixated.

‘Yowsers! To your left, Tiger!’ Tiger’s smile faded as she felt her stomach churning. Was that really Rosemary? Why was she here tonight? What did she want?

‘One more over ’ere, luv!’ Tiger nodded politely and pulled away from the throngs of paparazzi at the entrance of the Paula de Paulson gallery. She motioned for Lewis, Blue, Georgia and Richie who had been hanging back to follow her in. As Georgia stepped up she smiled at the photographers, expecting them to take her picture, seeing as she was one of Tiger Starr’s group. The paps
had already moved on to their next bill-paying fodder, some new actress who was already tottering along behind. Georgia’s embarrassed, blushing face went unnoticed as a trio of leggy hostesses appeared out of nowhere and descended upon Tiger, greeting her warmly and ushering her inside.

‘Blimey. Does she get that everywhere?’ whispered Richie up at Blue, who gazed into his big doe eyes with a warm smile as they were led inside.

‘This is an industry party, darling. It’s work,’ explained Blue. ‘Tiger is always on show for work. Around Waitrose? Not so much. Although the paps do hang about Regent’s Park for her when they’re feeling optimistic, maybe hoping to catch her jogging in a tracksuit. Although that’s about as likely as sighting the Loch Ness Monster,’ he said, patiently standing in line in the huge white marble reception until the hostesses had finished their small talk with Tiger. ‘So a party is work then?’ breathed Richie, almost in amazement.

‘I’d describe it as an event. I mean it’s not exactly a ‘
party
’ party is it? It’s not like she’s being paid to pop pills and get wankered.’

‘Yes, I hadn’t thought of it like that I suppose,’ mused Richie.

‘Hang on, you’re a photographer’s assistant,’ said Blue, quizzically, ‘you’re in the media world, you should know how it all works!’

‘Oh! Well, it’s all new to me actually; I haven’t been
doing it for too long,’ stuttered Richie, looking a little embarrassed. ‘I guess I never like to talk to the photographers too much about things that go on outside the studio, I – I worry I might come across as unprofessional if I pry.’

Blue instantly melted. ‘Sorry, darling. I didn’t mean to … it’s just, well I need to get to know you so much more. We both have so much to learn. This is just the beginning.’ Blue squeezed Richie’s hand.

‘God, listen to Barbara Cartland over here,’ complained Georgia bitchily from behind. ‘Anyway, move up, boys, those ladies are taking everyone’s coats.’ Georgia wriggled out of her new leopard-print trench, and held it out regally for one of the hostesses.

‘The cloakroom is over there, madam,’ said the hostess politely before protectively whisking Tiger’s silk cape away.

‘What am I, pleb class or something?’ fumed Georgia.

‘No, you’re just not Tiger Starr,’ retorted Blue. ‘Oh give it here for god’s sake.’ He scooped up Georgia’s trench and stalked over to the non-VIP cloakroom.

Georgia turned to a bored-looking Lewis for support, who merely shrugged and wandered off to catch up with Tiger, who was now being escorted up the huge staircase towards the star artworks by an eager busboy.

‘My, my, that’s a charming dress you’re wearing, is it Westwood?’ asked Blue as he returned and handed Georgia her cloakroom ticket.

‘Yes,’ huffed Georgia.

‘Red Label?’

‘Yes, how did you know?’

‘Darling, I’m a stylist. It’s my job to know,’ explained Blue patronisingly. ‘Besides, you may have noticed Tiger is wearing a remarkably similar Westwood Gold Label tonight.’

‘Really? Oh, I didn’t see her take her cape off.’ Georgia smiled.

‘Of course you didn’t.’ Blue smiled back.

‘Well, I’m sure Tiger wouldn’t fit in
my
dress at any rate.’

‘Maybe not,’ Blue beamed, continuing, ‘And the dress does suit you I must say.’

‘Oh! Oh thanks!’ said Georgia, pushing her breasts out a little.

‘Yes, I just love how Westwood gives shape to those girls who don’t have any in the first place,’ Blue said and immediately turned to Richie. ‘Champagne, darling?’

Richie nodded and the pair waltzed up the stairs, leaving Georgia standing alone with a foul expression.

When Blue eventually found Tiger after a lap of the whole gallery, she was with Lewis looking at one of the installations. She was sipping her champagne, statuesque in her tight cream lace cocktail dress, and looking unusually ill at ease.

‘Hey darling, you okay?’ asked Blue cheerily.

‘Oh, you know,’ sighed Tiger. ‘It’s the same old shake and fake.’

‘What’s the matter? You don’t usually mind these events. It’s a stunning gallery. Have you been round yet? Beautiful art. Some of the special installations are fab. There’s one next door you’re gonna
love
.’

‘Oh come on. All these media whores are just knocking back Cristal and talking about what nail shape they’re going for this season. That could be the
Mona Lisa
up there and they’d still be more interested in discussing whether squared-off nails were
passé
enough to be ironic yet. Before you came up, I just saw some drunk heiress stumbling over to a Damien Hirst piece in the middle of the room, thinking it was a huge canapé display. She made a grab for it, then knocked it over. It smashed into a thousand pieces. It was cleaned up with a dustpan and brush like a dropped cocktail glass.’

‘Probably the best place for it,’ Blue joked. Tiger wasn’t laughing. Blue regarded her through narrowed eyes; she looked distinctly wound up.

‘Oh Tiger darling, that’s why we used to love coming to these things together – we used to have a laugh at everyone posing, pouting and scrabbling up the social ladder wearing their latest it-bag and sample sale finds, then we’d scoot off to Horse Meat Disco in our ball gowns for some proper grimy Vauxhall fun to the wee small hours. Remember?’

‘Oh, I don’t know, sweetie, I’m sorry. I think I lost my sense of humour somewhere outside. I swear I saw …’ Tiger trailed off, looking round at Lewis who was leaning in, listening.

‘Oh, don’t mind me,’ he said. ‘You carry on, I’m all ears. Actually I thought you’d been a bit off lately. Especially considering you’ve got some great things going on right now.’

‘A bit off? Oh thanks,’ deadpanned Tiger. ‘I can see you haven’t honed your witty repartee for some time.’

‘Wow, you really have lost your sense of humour, babe,’ said Blue, raising his eyebrows over at Lewis in sympathy.

‘Let’s just have this conversation later, okay?’ snapped Tiger.

‘What is
wrong
with you?’ hissed Blue out of the side of his mouth.

‘Oh, nothing. Just forget it. I’m sorry I’m not good company. I’ll take myself home after this drink. I have long rehearsals tomorrow anyway,’ Tiger mumbled.

‘No way, babes. I’m making you go to the fashion party after this, and then when we get home later, I’m coming to your room with a good Cognac and – well, I think we need to have a girl talk.’

‘No, you have other commitments, darling. Honestly, don’t worry about me. I’m really not in the mood for another party anyway.’

‘No way!’ protested Blue. ‘Richie can go back to his own place tonight. You’re coming out. Everyone wants to see you there. Besides I’m worried about you. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the recent weight loss.’

‘What weight loss? I’m the same as always,’ Tiger lied.

‘Babes, you’re losing your arse. Big mistake. We gotta sort that out for a start.’

‘What was that about a fat arse?’ asked Georgia loudly as she came sachaying towards the little group, champagne flute in hand.

‘Ah, here comes the entertainment,’ said Blue, smiling over at Georgia and raising his glass to her in a sarcastic gesture.

‘What’s that all about?’ whispered Tiger.

‘Never you mind,’ muttered Blue through his clenched smile, ‘I just have a bad feeling in my gut about that girl.’

‘What, Georgia? Nah, I think she’s alright deep down. I thought she was a bit dodgy at first too, but she makes Lewis happy. I reckon she’s harmless. I think she just tries a bit hard, that’s all. It’s probably all Lewis’ fault. Can you imagine going out with him? He probably gives her marks out of ten and performance notes every time they have sex.’ The pair had a private little snigger into their champagne.

‘Did I miss the joke?’ asked Georgia, wrapping her arm possessively around Lewis.

‘No, darling, we were just talking about the installations actually,’ replied Blue.

‘Oh, right.’ Georgia scanned the room. ‘I don’t get them I’m afraid. All this arty shit, I think it’s all just a marketing ploy. They’re all just clever businessmen these artists.’

‘That’s quite a sweeping statement, Georgia,’ countered Blue provocatively.

‘Okay then. You tell me what that one means over there,’ she challenged. ‘You see it? The naked bloke hopping from foot to foot under a spotlight.’

‘Oh come on, we’re supposed to be having fun,’ moaned Blue.

‘No. Come on, Mr Know-It-All, deconstruct it, I dare you.’

Blue was silent for a few seconds as he swilled his Cristal in his mouth. He took a deep breath. Lewis, Georgia, Richie and Tiger all leaned in, eager for his response. Blue took a few more moments, adjusting his stance theatrically. He began:

‘In a literal sense it references torture methods, with the artist attempting to recreate the alarming muscular spasms achieved over a long period of time of being constricted in a small area; whereas metaphorically the artist’s nakedness refers to our own struggle for dignity, with the artist’s silence symbolising the process of being stripped bare, whilst masking the ultimate truth via our loss of communication. The black bandages about his face are a damning historical reference to slavery and hence the violence we inflict upon our own kind, whilst the shaft of light is the oxymoron binding the whole piece together, at once an investigative measure, yet simultaneously a graphic symbol for our redemption, and ultimate ascension. Against a textured backdrop of modern cultural icons, celebrities, fashionistas and drunken social climbers, liggers and blaggers, the audience is subsumed into the artwork
to provide the setting of hypocrisy, materialism and apathy prevalent in our modern culture.’