The Model Wife (23 page)

‘Religious? No, I don’t think so.’

‘Nothing involving the Bishop of Bellchester?’

‘Not that I recall.’ Before Thea could ask why, her phone began vibrating in her pocket. ‘Oh excuse me.’ A number beginning +502. Guatemala calling.

‘Hello?’ she shouted above the din of the jukebox and her colleagues’ chatter.

‘Is that Thea Mackharven?’ An American woman’s voice. Nasal. Sounded as if she’d last laughed circa the sinking of the
Titanic.

‘Yes.’

‘Please hold, I have Leanne Martines for you.’

Leanne Martines? But now it was a different voice. Equally nasal, rather weary.

‘Thea? Hello. This is Leanne, Minnie Maltravers’s personal assistant. Just to congratulate your show on its fantastic work and to let you know Minnie would like to give you an interview on Saturday to discuss the motivation behind her adoption of Cristiano.’

Thea’s heart almost stopped with excitement.

‘That’s fantastic news!’ she shouted. Dean banged his pint down on the bar.

‘You’ve got it?’ he mouthed. Thea nodded and held up a hand to silence him as the most salient point came into focus.

‘Uh. Saturday? You mean the day after tomorrow?’ ‘Yes, Saturday. Short notice I know, but that’s the best time for Minnie. She’s keen to put a stop to all this malicious talk once and for all before little Cristiano is irreparably damaged. Five p.m. The Balmoral Hotel.’ ‘The Balmoral Hotel? Is that in Scotland?’ Leanne gave a dry little laugh. ‘Full marks for deduction, Miss Mackharven. That’s where Minnie is right now. You’d better get that Luke Norton of yours out of Guatemala and on the first plane to Edinburgh.’

33

It was seven on Saturday morning and Thea was standing tapping her foot by the British Airways check-in at Terminal One. Beside her, yawned creepy Rhys and George, the cameraman.

‘Where the hell’s Luke?’ she snapped, looking at her watch for the fourteenth time in five minutes. ‘We’re going to miss the plane.’

‘His flight from Miami’s only just landed,’ soothed Rhys. ‘He’s probably still stuck on the plane with the door jammed.’

Thea took a gulp of her latte and wondered if she had time to run and buy another one. Since that Thursday night call she’d slept a total of three hours, so busy had she been finessing details of the Minnie interview with Leanne. The list of stipulations made sorting out peace in the Middle East look a doddle.

‘Why the Balmoral Hotel?’ Thea had asked. ‘Isn’t Minnie’s castle somewhere near Inverness? Why don’t we do it there?’

‘She’s going to be in Edinburgh on Friday night,’ Leanne explained. ‘It’s Hope Scott’s birthday party at the Balmoral and she’s spending the night there, which means she’ll actually be in the building on Saturday morning and you’ll have no worries about her turning up.’

315

There was a sinking feeling in Thea’s stomach. ‘
Should
I have worries?’

‘No, no, of course not,’ Leanne said hurriedly. ‘But, you know – cars can break down, or get stuck in traffic. Knowing Minnie is actually on site will mean peace of mind for everyone.’ She cleared her throat like a policeman about to give evidence in a black-and-white film. ‘Now, some other points. Minnie will only do the interview if she is lit by candlelight.’

‘Yes, that’s all in hand.’

‘She will be wearing an outfit by Bing Parsons and she’d like Luke to be wearing one too.’

‘Absolutely,’ Thea said cheerily, her mind cartwheeling as she worked out how they could persuade the hottest designer of the moment to lend them a suit.

‘Hair and make-up?’

‘Yes, it’s all sorted,’ Thea said sweetly. Minnie was very precise about who was allowed to touch her famous face and mane. ‘We’ve got Carlo flying in from New York just like she requested to do her hair.’ First class, she thought. Another budget nightmare. ‘And we’ve persuaded Belinda, the make-up artist, to travel to Edinburgh on the sleeper. She’s too pregnant to fly, apparently.’ And as a result she’s demanding four times her already extortionate rates.

‘This interview is going to cost us our entire monthly budget,’ Thea warned Dean, when she called him for the sixteenth time shortly after two a.m. on Saturday morning.

‘Yeah, but it’s going to give us viewing figures to make a donkey cack himself and win us a load of awards.’ Thea could hear Farrah mumbling crossly in the background. ‘It’s all right, babe, go back to sleep. Spend whatever it takes.’ There was a tiny pause, then he added, ‘You’ll have to cut back on flights and accommodation for the crew obviously. Cheapest you can find.’

‘I’ll book a campsite.’

‘That’s a good idea.’ There was a tiny pause, then Dean said, ‘I’m not joking, Thea.’

‘Nor am I.’

Rhys said, ‘I think we should check in.’

‘We can’t leave without Luke.’

‘We may have no choice. He’ll have to catch us up.’

‘He’s taking a leaf out of Minnie’s book.’ George yawned. ‘I remember one of my photographer mates telling me about a shoot she did for
Vogue
in Cape Town. They waited four days for her to show up.’

‘
Four
days?’

‘In which case, what’s the rush?’ Rhys grinned. ‘Luke could cycle to Edinburgh. Cut down on his carbon footprint.’

‘I’ll ring some estate agents. Ask them to show us round some houses, since we’re going to end up spending the rest or our lives there.’

George and Rhys chortled. Thea didn’t. This wasn’t funny. They
had
to catch the plane and Luke had to be with them. But just then, she saw him hurrying across the concourse pulling a wheelie suitcase like a little dog. Alexa was just behind. Thea was pleased to note how rough she looked after a night on the red-eye.

‘Jesus, I hope you’ve got an intravenous coffee drip on you,’ he hailed them. ‘I’ve been travelling for nearly twenty-four hours now. Guatemala–Miami, Miami–here. What a fucking nightmare.’

‘It’ll be worth it,’ Thea said. ‘Come on. Let’s check in.’

‘Economy?’ asked Luke suspiciously.

Thea smiled brightly. ‘I’m afraid so. Business was fully booked.’

‘Christ, I’ve already gone all the way across the Atlantic in economy. I bet you Jeremy Paxman doesn’t travel cattle.’

‘It’s only an hour’s flight.’ Thea tried to placate him, but Luke ignored her, striding ahead to the check-in desk.

It
was
only an hour’s flight, but unfortunately Thea hadn’t reckoned with an hour and a half on the Heathrow tarmac due to engine trouble. Because they had checked in so late, they weren’t even sitting together. Luke was at the back of the plane studying the enormous Minnie dossier Rhys had compiled, while the others were fast asleep near the front. Wedged between three burly IT consultants on their way to a rugby match and already downing lagers, Thea tried to breathe deeply but her pulse was racing. They were supposed to be at the hotel at ten, to allow plenty of time to set up before the interview at one. What would happen if they were late? Surreptitiously, she pulled out her phone and texted Leanne for the third time.

Still not moving. Should be there by noon latest.

The reply flashed back.

We understand. Minnie happy to wait for you.

318

By the time they’d landed at Edinburgh at half past eleven, Thea was feeling distinctly edgy, a situation not improved by the twenty-minute queue for a taxi.

‘Couldn’t you have ordered a limo?’ Luke complained.

‘They were all booked,’ lied Thea. She’d completely forgotten. God, was she losing it already, like Gran? ‘Oh, look, we’re next. The Balmoral,’ she said to the driver, as they climbed in.

‘At least we’re staying somewhere decent,’ Luke mumbled.

‘Um,’ Thea said as the cab sped off, ‘we’re not actually
staying
at the Balmoral. It’s just where we’re doing the interview.’

‘So where are we? I stayed at the Scotsman last time I seem to recall. That was nice, and the Sheraton isn’t bad.’

Thea shut her eyes and leant back against the sticky vinyl seat. ‘We’re staying in the Hootsmon.’

‘Sorry?’

‘It’s a hotel called the Hootsmon. It’s in a lovely quiet suburb. On the website it looked really cool.’

George and Alexa exchanged glances as Luke exploded, ‘
The Hootsmon
. Fucking hell, Thea!’

‘I’m sorry, Luke. I know it’s not ideal. But everywhere’s booked. It’s this rugby match. And we’re not allowed to spend more than seventy-five pounds a head.’

‘And people think our job is glamorous,’ he said huffily.

‘Think of all the awards ceremonies we’ll go to as a result of this. They’ll be glamorous.’ ‘I hate awards ceremonies.’ Thea felt wounded. Was he saying he’d hated BAFTA night? She pushed the thought to the back of her mind as they drew up outside the hotel. The Stone and Crombie suite where the interview was taking place was in complete chaos. A man was standing on a step ladder at the far corner of the room, rigging up a billowing satin sheet, while a young Japanese woman in hotpants with pigtails stood below him shouting: ‘Left, left, a bit to the right. No, a bit to the left.’ Two young women were setting out a dozen ivory candelabras.

‘What’s this? Snow White’s boudoir?’ Luke demanded.

‘It’s the deal we’ve done. Minnie has no veto over the questions we ask but she gets to choose the set.’

‘Fucking hell,’ Luke muttered under his breath. ‘From the siege of Sarajevo to this.’

In a bedroom that led off the sitting room, the heavily pregnant make-up artist was gabbling on her phone. A black man with a buzz cut whom Thea took to be the hairdresser – they always had the worst hair – was laying out an array of wigs and hairpieces. The stylists, two women so skinny they looked as if they’d need to run round the shower to get wet, were leafing through a long rack of clothes, consulting urgently. A woman in jeans and a Barbie T-shirt with a haunted look that Thea would soon discover was the trademark of anyone who came in contact with the legend that was Minnie Maltravers hurried towards her, proffering a bony hand.

‘Thea? I’m Leanne,’ she said. She spoke as if it was a race against the clock. ‘So good to meet you finally.’

‘Is everything OK? I’m so sorry we’re late.’

‘It’s fine. As it happens Minnie has a bit of a cold, so she’s still in bed. But she’ll be down in about half an hour. Everything is more or less set up here, so as soon as she arrives you’ll be good to go.’

Two hours passed. The make-up was lined up, the outfits selected, the lights were in place. Luke and Thea had been over the questions time and time again. It was three o’clock when Leanne returned. Thea felt like a wilting weed.

‘Now, we’ll be starting very soon. Minnie’s just asked me to go out and buy her a flannel nightgown and
The Lord of the Rings
trilogy.’

‘
The Lord of the Rings
?’ Thea couldn’t help her incredulous tone.

Leanne’s eyes filled with panic. ‘Forget I said that,’ she pleaded. ‘Minnie’ll kill me.’

‘Sure,’ Thea said neutrally, filing it away as an anecdote to dine out on for years.

‘Minnie’s exhausted,’ Leanne explained. ‘She’s finding motherhood a real challenge. All those sleepless nights…’

George snorted sarcastically.

‘All those sleepless nights, feeding little Cristiano,’ Leanne continued.

‘She doesn’t have a nanny for that?’ George asked.

Leanne inhaled.

‘No, she doesn’t. Minnie is completely hands-on. That’s why she went to Hope’s party last night. She just needed to let her hair down. A sentiment all moms can relate to. And now she’s having a bit of a lie-in.’

‘Poor thing,’ Thea crooned and then, ‘But she
will
be down soon?’

‘W-e-l-l. As I said before. She’s a little sick. The hotel’s called a doctor. But don’t worry!’ Leanne cried seeing Thea’s face. ‘Once he’s checked her out she’ll be along. It’s nothing serious. Just a precaution.’

So they waited and waited. They ordered in sandwiches, sushi and pizza. They watched the rugby match on one of the flatscreen TVs. The pregnant make-up artist went to lie down in the bedroom complaining of Braxton Hicks contractions.

‘You do realize if I go into labour Channel
6
is going to have to foot the bill for the best hospital in Edinburgh.’

‘Of course,’ Thea cooed.

‘Time to read our horoscopes?’ Alexa said, picking up the
Daily Mail.
‘Luke, what are you?’

‘Aquarius,’ Thea said before she could stop herself. Perfect match with her Libra. Everyone turned to look at her.

‘How did you know that?’ George teased.

‘Years of being bored on the road together,’ Luke said lazily. ‘Oh, hello, Leanne. Any new developments?’

‘Yes, I’m afraid Minnie’s still got a bit of a stomach ache, but when the Nurofen kicks in she’ll be down.’

Half an hour later, Minnie had terrible period pains. Thirty minutes later it was potential food poisoning. ‘But don’t worry,’ Leanne cried again, as a grinning George made a motion to pack up. ‘She really wants to do this interview. She
will
be down in a minute.’

‘Models,’ Luke said miserably. He was dressed in a slightly too-tight Bing Parsons suit in a rather nasty shade of green that matched the bags under his eyes. ‘All flakes. I should know, I’m bloody married to one.’

Thea looked at him. She wondered if he’d read Poppy’s column in
Wicked
. But now was not the time to find out.

The next time Leanne appeared it was half past six.

‘She’s on her way,’ she announced in the tones you might reserve to announce a battalion of enemy tanks moving in to your village.

‘Here I am,’ bleated a cartoon helium whine. Everyone’s head turned to the threshold where one of the most legendary beauties of all time stood dressed in a purple Juicy tracksuit, head bowed and a hand over her Cupid-bow mouth. Minnie Maltravers sniffed loudly into a purple spotted handkerchief, then looked up, dazzling them with her moist violet eyes. ‘I don’t feel good,’ she said heading, arms outstretched, towards Carlo the hairdresser.

‘Oh, Minnie, poor baby.’ They exchanged kisses. ‘Would you like one of my head massages?’

‘Yes, pweeze.’

‘What’s wrong with her?’ Thea said softly to Leanne, as Minnie slumped in an armchair and Carlo began running his hands through her thick blonde locks.

‘Oh, you know what hotel air-con systems are like. They make the air dryer than the Sahara desert. And they just pump bugs round the system like there’s no tomorrow. Poor Minnie.’

Thea looked at the object of all their attention in fascination. She’d always imagined Minnie Maltravers as Amazonian, but like most famous people she was, in fact, unnervingly petite. Her ego, on the other hand, was colossal. Head massage over, she leafed dismissively through the stylists’ rack of clothes, refusing to wear any of the outfits they’d selected.

3
²
3

‘I hate red,’ she muttered. ‘Bing knows that. Why the fuck are there so many red dresses? I’m not sure I want to be wearing one of Bing’s outfits. Maybe we should call Marc and see if he has anything for me.’

After much flattery, she was finally persuaded to put on a velvet violet dress that matched her eyes. Then she turned her attention to the jewellery.

‘But this is all Tiffany! I never wear Tiffany!’ She turned to Leanne. ‘Go up to my room and fetch my Bulgari necklace,’ she snapped.

It was nearly seven. Thea had been awake for what felt like a week by the time Minnie in full make-up allowed Alexa to usher her into the interview chair.

Luke sat in his, straightened his tie and flashed her the legendary Norton smile. Minnie looked right through him. Luke cleared his throat.

‘OK,’ said Thea, ‘lights, camera—’