Prime Time (21 page)

Chapter Twenty-two

‘It's only your forehead you won't be able to move,' said Cal, ‘but if you don't fancy it, you don't have to go ahead.'

We were on our way to see someone they referred to as “Mr Botox” and I was trying to decide if I was excited or scared.

‘I know it's another long day but then we'll take a couple of weeks off,' Cal said, twisting round in the passenger seat to look at me, while Tanya drove. ‘If you can then follow the programme – I think you look fab as you are but it would be good to show you really glowing and how exercise does work – we can film you again, and by then, if you decide to have it, the Botox will have kicked in and you'll be looking all super-smooth too. Is that OK? Are you happy with all that?'

Cal looked into my eyes in a way I half-wished he wouldn't. He probably did it to everyone but it did funny things to my stomach.

‘Yes, that's absolutely fine.' I said weakly, although I still wasn't sure about having all those needles in my face. When he'd turned back to the road ahead, I got a small mirror out of my handbag and had a surreptitious look at my wrinkled bits. On the other hand …

The clinic was in Canterbury – not far from Roger's office, I realised, as the van drew up ahead of us in a back street near the cathedral. As I got out of the car I scanned the road in both directions in case I spotted him wrapped around Hannah.

Now, while the others set up their equipment, I sat in a room studying various before and after posters of sagging, blotchy, vein-riddled faces, miraculously transformed. I wondered what it all cost. A lot, no doubt. I was pretty lucky to be getting a go at it for nothing, I told myself.

‘Have you had any of this done?' I asked the receptionist – an oriental, line-free beauty of around 30.

She looked offended. ‘Not yet,' she replied with a tight smile.

‘Of course,' I said hastily, ‘you're much too young.'

‘I'm 32,' she said. ‘We have many women come at this age.'

I wasn't quite sure what this proved so I lapsed into silence and read a leaflet about laser treatments you could have in your lunch hour, until Tanya put her head round the door and said they wanted me upstairs.

Dr Carling was in his late 40s with silver hair and an improbably smooth, tight, shiny forehead. He wore a pin-striped suit and a pink shirt and had, I noticed, extremely white teeth – even whiter than Austin's, the
Cook around the Clock
presenter. I wondered if I could suggest teeth-whitening as one of my treatments. Though perhaps not quite that bright. It did look a little unreal. I found I was keeping my mouth closed a bit more than usual as we said hello and shook hands.

‘What we'd like you to do,' Cal said to the doctor, ‘is to run through the sort of procedures you could offer Laura to make her look younger. Laura, you ask whatever questions you'd ask – how much it costs, how effective the treatment is, how long it lasts and so on. Try to forget we're here. OK, let's go.'

Dr Carling and I surveyed each other across the table.

‘Er, how could you make me look younger?' I said lamely. Behind me I heard Tanya sigh.

‘Just carry on.' Cal's voice was reassuring. ‘We'll do it again at the end.'

Dr Carling leant back in his chair and had gazed at me.

‘It all depends, really,' he said eventually, ‘what it is you're most unhappy with and what you are trying to achieve.'

‘Well just being older and looking younger, I guess,' I said, cheerily, thinking that perhaps it served the film's purpose to state the bleeding obvious. ‘You know – I've got these lines and crow's feet and my neck's not what it was. I keep slapping on the old anti-wrinkle cream but it still seems to be downhill all the way …'

Dr Carling shook his head. ‘Collagen creams? Not worth the money. Collagen can't get through the skin. The only way you can get more collagen is by having it injected and that's where the collagen filler comes in. Fillers
can
make a difference to lines and wrinkles by plumping them up from below. Fillers and Botox are our most popular products.'

I nodded intelligently. ‘Which is best?' I asked, pleased with my interviewing technique.

‘It's a case of horses for courses,' said Dr Carling importantly. ‘We would use fillers for deeper lines – those that are really ingrained.' He looked pointedly at my mouth. ‘And Botox to soften fine lines, although you can find even quite deep ones disappearing once you can't make the movements that's caused them.' He handed me a mirror.

‘Frown,' he said. I duly scowled.

‘You see? Doing that has caused
this
.' He directed a manicured finger at the crease between my eyebrows. ‘Botox will immobilise those muscles so you can't do that any more. It will take 10 to 14 days to get the full effect but then that should be entirely smoothed out. Show me what else you'd like corrected.'

I looked back at my reflection. ‘Where shall I start?' I laughed self-consciously. ‘This is new.'

I showed him the line above my upper lip where I screwed my mouth up when I didn't like something. ‘Can Botox sort that too? And look at my eyelids. They never used to be hooded like this. Do you know I found a photo of myself when I was 22 – well, my friend Charlotte found it actually – and my eyes were really wide open. Now I look like Old Mother Hubbard.'

Dr Carling looked quizzically at me, while I wondered where on earth that had come from. What did Mother Hubbard look like anyway – was she the one who had all the children in a boot? Or the old crone whose cupboard was bare? That was probably what had brought her to mind – my fridge was a barren wasteland once more. I really must go shopping …

‘Sorry?' I suddenly realised Dr Carling was talking to me.

His eyes twitched in what I imagined would have been a frown if his forehead had been able to move. ‘Lipstick lines,' he said. ‘Some people get very strong lipstick lines but your mouth is quite good. Your lips are still full –'

‘Thank you,' I said.

‘We could probably usefully employ 15 or 16 units of Botox around the forehead down round the eyes, but I wouldn't recommend it around the lips. You have to be very careful there because it could change the agility of the mouth – and if you were a trumpet player or a singer that wouldn't be too good.' He smiled.

‘I'm not either of those things, but I do talk a lot,' I said helpfully.

He nodded. ‘But we could pop in a little bit of filler there – ' He pointed to the corner of my mouth. ‘When you're getting a little bit older, the corners of the mouth turn down slightly.' I looked into the mirror – I'd never noticed it before, but so they did. ‘If we inject a little filler here, it will lift it slightly.' He leant across the desk and hitched up the side of my mouth with his finger. ‘It's a very subtle effect but it can be quite pleasing.'

‘Oh yes,' I cried, gazing into the mirror and seeing how instantly and miraculously it took years off me.

He was still prodding my face. ‘A bit of hollowing here can pull the cheeks down a bit, so on some women we plump up here too, but I wouldn't say you need that yet. A little work around the forehead, eyes and mouth, that's all.'

I used my own finger to lift my droopy mouth up again. ‘How much does it all cost?' I reeled as he told me. ‘Really? And how long will it last?'

‘Botox – three to six months maximum. Fillers? Depends on which filler you use, but about a year.'

‘God that adds up to –' I did a rapid calculation. ‘A lot each year!'

Dr Carling nodded unperturbed. ‘And my regular clients are more than happy to pay it.' He leant back and locked his hands behind his head. ‘It's all about confidence. Others may not notice what exactly has changed in you, they will only know you're different. But you will know, and it will give you greater self-esteem. And that is the most attractive quality of all.'

He waved a hand at a poster on the wall. ‘For some women that's brought about by something dramatic like a facelift or a tummy tuck or breast enhancement. For others, it can be something as simple as a new hairstyle. They haven't been changed physically but they look a million dollars because they are happier.' He gave me a big, flashing smile that displayed every one of his dazzling teeth. ‘That is why I recommend that the best thing my clients can do is to find someone to fall in love with them.'

‘Easier said than done,' I said brightly.

‘Not when we have perfected you.' An evangelical note crept into his voice. He leant forward again. ‘You will be amazed. I will make you irresistible …'

Cal interrupted. ‘Can we get you looking fascinated, Laura – really hanging on every word?'

I widened my eyes.

‘Does it hurt? I'm a bit of a wimp,' I explained. ‘Low pain threshold. I take Nurofen when I have my legs waxed.'

Russ laughed. ‘So does Cal!'

Dr Carling frowned. ‘A slight pricking, that's all – I use a very fine needle. You may get a bit of local swelling, a mild headache – but nothing that paracetamol won't deal with.

‘What about all those toxins, though?'

He shook his head. ‘Botox has actually been used medically for years. There is no evidence to suggest there are any harmful effects at all …'

I was only half listening as he explained its function in treating excessive sweating and stroke victims.

I was asking the questions about safety because I felt it was expected but, really, I was hooked already. I kept thinking about how different my mouth had looked with the corners pulled up, and imagining my newly smoothed brow. I looked sideways at Cal, hoping there was money in the budget for both.

‘Fillers can be used in the backs of hands too,' Dr Carling was saying. ‘Hands can be very revealing as we get on in years. We carry out a programme of treatment to get rid of age spots and blemishes and then inject tiny bits of filler all over the back of the hand to plump up the surface – particularly between the fingers. We're looking at introducing a foot lift to our treatment list too, probably early next year. ‘

‘A foot lift?' I laughed. ‘Are you kidding? That's a step too far, isn't it?' I giggled again.

Dr Carling shook his head. ‘Not for some people, not at all. They're becoming very popular in the States. The feeling there is that that wrinkly toes are a big give-away. Women want their feet plumped just as much as their hands.'

I rolled my eyes. ‘Give me strength.'

‘OK, cut a minute!' Cal was staring at me. ‘I am having this brilliant idea', he said slowly. ‘I was thinking this would be a fairly straight piece with you. Just a sort of fly on the wall and extended interview about how you felt about the ageing process. But you're really good – you've got so much screen presence, I'm just thinking how we can be a bit more creative.'

‘Oh Lordy,' said Russ. ‘Not Cal being creative again.'

Matt chuckled. ‘Been here before, haven't we, mate?'

Cal ignored them. ‘What we can do is maybe contrast different reactions. We'll film your scepticism – that was great, Laura – and then would you be able to do it again as though you were seriously interested?
A foot lift?
'

He said it as though this was a fascinating medical breakthrough that would save the lives of millions. ‘Can you give it a go? I can see us showing both – leaving it up to the viewer to see which Laura they identify with. Can you try?'

His face shining with enthusiasm was infectious. I saw Russ and Matt exchange amused glances while Tanya shook her head. Cal looked at me hopefully. I suddenly felt I had to support him.

‘A foot lift – that sounds interesting,' I intoned obligingly.

He shook his head. ‘You're sounding a bit insincere.'

I smiled at him kindly. ‘Because I am insincere – it's a mad idea. Like therapists for dogs and beauty salons for five-year-olds.'

Cal looked disappointed. ‘I know you're not a trained actress or anything – maybe I'll have to get someone in. It's just, you know, you've got this presence – this sort of aura about you – I'd really like to use
you
.' His big, brown eyes were fixed on mine. My stomach gave a strange little flip that I hoped was only indigestion. He put a hand on my arm. ‘Would you just try one more time?'

I looked from the glossy brochure Dr Carling had put in front of me, to my seriously unmanicured toes. ‘A foot lift?' I said wonderingly, trying to sound as though I'd been offered the key to eternal life. ‘Wow! How much does that cost?'

Cal clapped his hands. ‘Perfect.'

He signalled to Matt. ‘Now let's do it one more time – just for luck.'

Matt moved the camera in closer. Tanya tossed her hair about and yawned.

‘A foot lift!' I shrieked in ecstasy.

‘A foot lift?' I whispered in awe.

‘A foot lift,' I murmured with wonder.

Thirty-six elevated feet later, Cal put his arms around me and kissed me joyfully on both cheeks. ‘I knew you could do it – you are going to be a star …'

Doctor Carling was looking thoroughly fed up. We'd filmed our conversation a dozen times and he was beginning to sound rather robotic. Cal was a man on a mission, wanting to get it absolutely right.

‘OK, can we just do that one last time? If you could just run through possible side-effects, and Laura – keep nodding but looking as though nothing is going to put you off. Excellent. And now the opposite?'

I was now well into role. ‘Botox? Absolutely not! All those toxins going into my face. Who knows what they'll do long term? I don't want to look like a frozen rabbit!'

Tanya sighed. ‘Can we lose the rabbit? What is it with you and bunnies?'

Cal frowned at her and then smiled at me. ‘Try it again, babe. Shake your head, look concerned, but just stick to the toxins. Maybe say something about Botox being so unnatural.'