The Mag Hags

by Lollie Barr

  ‘Until you finally start dating again and get yourself a husband!’ said Debs, leaning over and kissing Evelyn on the cheek before slipping out of the car, ready to kick all the living crap out of whatever was put in her way.

  As they got to the reception desk, a tracksuited Reanne Rowles entered the building looking unbelievably flustered. For a woman who was usually as immaculately groomed as a starlet on her way to an awards ceremony, she looked a mess. Her mascara was caked beneath her eyes, her usually glossy hair was unbrushed and her tracksuit looked as though she’d slept in it.

  Cat picked up a kickboxing magazine called Can You Kick It? (Yes, You Can) and held it to her face, pretending to be engrossed in an article in the hope that Reanne would not recognise her as anybody involved with her future stepdaughter, Corabelle Askew.

  ‘Is Sol here?’ said Reanne, without even a cursory hello to the receptionist.

  ‘I don’t know where he is,’ said the receptionist in a stroppy, ‘Do I look like his secretary?’ tone, when in fact, she was. ‘Have you tried his mobile?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve tried his mobile,’ said Reanne in a ‘Don’t get stroppy with me, you stroppy cow’ tone. ‘Ten times today and it goes straight to voicemail. Which is obviously why I’m here. Look, just tell him to call me, there’s been a change of plan …’

  Just at that moment, Sol walked into the gym. ‘Reanne?’ he said, hesitantly. ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you today.’

  ‘Obviously,’ she said. ‘I have been trying to reach you. We need to talk. It’s important –’

  A slightly tortured look spread across Sol’s face, as though Reanne was about to use his testicles as pin cushions. The girls recognised the look from whenever their mother had wanted to ‘talk’ to their father, or when Cat desperately needed to ‘talk’ to Nate when she stopped him in the playground to explain his actions. He had said ‘Yeah, yeah, later’ and never spoken to her again. It appeared the entire male species would rather eat the contents of their own nasal cavities than ‘talk’.

  ‘Not here!’ said Sol. ‘Not in public. Come on, let’s go to the office.’

  ‘Hang on, I’ve left my handbag in the car,’ she said. ‘I’ll just go and get it.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll meet you there in five minutes,’ said Sol, turning around and seeing Debs and Cat.

  ‘Girls!’ he said with a forced smile. ‘I’ll be with you soon, just get in the ring and spar until I get there.’

  ‘Sure thing, Sol,’ said Debs, who obviously had no intention of doing anything of the sort. ‘Right Cat, this looks like our big chance to find out what is really going on between those two.’

  ‘Quick, let’s go to the office,’ said Cat.

  As the girls walked through the gym, there were hordes of boys punching bags or each other. It seemed Debs knew all the boys: ‘Hey Levi’, ‘Hi Ben’, ‘Andy!’ ‘Hello Matt’, she called out. The boys all stopped fighting and responded with big smiles or brief questions as to how her roundhouse kick was coming along.

  ‘Come on, we’re supposed to be on a mission to help Belle,’ said Cat. ‘Not for you to flirt with half of Baywood.’

  The girls walked down to the narrow hallway at the back of the gym, where Sol’s office and small kitchen were located.

  ‘There’s nowhere to hide in there,’ said Cat, peering into the office.

  ‘What about in there?’ Debs pointed to a laundry basket on wheels, filled with white towels from the gym. ‘We could push it into the office. Come on, jump in and I’ll cover you.’

  ‘Are you crazy?’ said Cat. ‘I’m not getting in there with all those stinky towels!’

  ‘I’d do it, but the plastic bottom may not hold my weight and I could come tumbling out of the bottom,’ said Debs, laughing. ‘You never know, Cat, you might enjoy all that man sweat! Go on, get in quick! And use the recorder on your mobile to record their conversation, that way Belle will have real proof to play her dad. Just hurry up before they get here.’

  Cat reluctantly jumped into the stinky laundry trolley, and Debs hastily covered her with the testosteronefuelled towels. Debs opened the office door and pushed the heavy cart into the office, with seconds to spare, as Reanne and Sol came walking up the corridor.

  ‘I won’t be long, Debs,’ said Sol, with a butter-wouldn’t-melt smile as he spirited Reanne into the office.

  ‘Sure thing, take your time.’ Debs grinned at Reanne, who shot her back the fakest smile Debs had ever seen, which used only seven of the fourteen muscles necessary to make a real smile.

  Cat held her nose in the pong and scrolled through her mobile phone until she found the sound recorder. She felt quite claustrophobic and prayed that the light coming from the screen didn’t show through the laundry trolley and give her away. There would be no excuse on earth that would explain why she was at the bottom of a dirty laundry basket. The thought of it almost made her laugh out loud, when she heard Reanne and Sol’s voices in the room. She pressed record and held her breath.

  ‘You don’t have to go through with this, Reanne,’ said Sol, accompanied by the sound of a door slamming shut. ‘Baby, honestly, there are ways out of it, you know.’

  ‘It’s the money that’s the issue,’ said Reanne, her voice whiney. ‘When he does the deal on The Vultron, we’re talking mega, mega bucks. You know, beyond your wildest dreams rich. I’ll have everything I’ve ever wanted. That’s got to make me question my decision to marry him.’

  ‘Whatever your decision, you’ve always got me. No matter what happens, we’ll get through this together,’ said Sol. ‘Now come over here, I think you need a really big hug.’

  ‘Thanks, baby,’ said Reanne. ‘You’ve always had the ability to calm me down. I feel so much better now.’

  ‘Come on, you, let’s go,’ said Sol. ‘Go and punch the crap out of a bag, you know it gets rid of your anxiety.’

  ‘You just know me so well,’ said Reanne. ‘Maybe I should be marrying you instead!’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Sol with a sad laugh. ‘Look, I’ve got to get back into the gym. I’m training someone who could be the next State champion …’

  ‘Who?’ said Reanne, her voice suddenly sounding perkier.

  ‘That fat chick you just saw in the corridor,’ said Sol, opening the door. ‘She packs the meanest punch I’ve ever had the pleasure of being on the end of, and her roundhouse kick – man!’

  When Cat walked into Mag Hag Central, it was a hive of activity.

  ‘Belle,’ said Cat sticking her head into the office. ‘Can we have a little chat, in private, and I mean really private.’

  ‘Sure,’ said Belle walking outside and going into the big marble bathroom on the landing. ‘What is it? Not Nate again?’

  ‘No, no, I’m so over him, thank god,’ said Cat. ‘Speaking of which, is he still your date to the formal?’

  ‘For the moment,’ said Belle. ‘I thought it would be funny to dump him on the day of the formal, that way he won’t have a date! Can you imagine his face?’

  ‘That’s hilarious!’ said Cat. ‘Have you got another date though?’

  ‘I thought we could go together!’

  Cat grinned. ‘That’s priceless. When he sees us together, he’ll freak! Vengeance will be mine! But anyway, enough of Nate Smyth-Jones, I’ve got something you’ve just got to hear.’

  Cat took out her phone from her gym bag and played the recording of Sol and Reanne, which, although it was a little muffled, was clearly recognisable as them.

  Belle was in a state of shock. It confirmed everything she had thought about Reanne: she was marrying her dad because he was rich; she was waiting for The Vultron to make squillions, then she would fleece him like a shearer shearing a sheep.

  ‘Oh my god!’ said Belle. ‘I can’t believe you’ve managed to get her on tape! My dad will have to listen now.’

  ‘Do you want to take my phone and play it to him now?’

  ‘He’s out with Reanne – for a change. Can you download it and ema
il it to me?’

  ‘Sure,’ said Cat.

  ‘Thanks, I really appreciate it,’ said Belle. ‘And tell Debs I’m sorry that arsehole Sol called her a fat chick.’

  ‘Actually she was cool about that. She said, “Well, I am a fat chick, but Sol reckons I can be State champion.” She reckons she’ll wreak revenge in the ring.’

  ‘Can we keep it to ourselves just for a while,’ said Belle. ‘There’s something horrible about having to break your own dad’s heart. I might have to wait until Zeb comes home. He’ll know what to do.’

  One of the final things the girls had to do was the cover. For weeks, Belle and Wanda had been downloading pictures of gorgeous airbrushed teenage girls with larger-than-life smiles and skin so smooth the closest they had come to a pimple was seeing a face full of acne on their less genetically blessed teenage brother.

  Whichever photo they found, the girls could never agree on which image encapsulated their magazine. There was much debate about the attitude of the model, whether they were fat enough, skinny enough, too sexy or not sexy enough, but they could never find a shot with the ‘Wow’ factor, as Belle put it. Now, with just days to go, the girls all stood in a row looking at a variety of covers stuck on the wall so they could decide once and for all.

  Mand was looking at the images when her eye was drawn to a blown-up picture of Maggie from the future formal shoot. Wow, she was gorgeous, thought Mand in surprise – she’d really never looked that closely at Maggie before.

  ‘I know this sounds crazy, but what about putting Maggie on the cover?’ said Mand, rocking back on her chair.

  ‘If you’re making fun of me –’ said Maggie feeling her usual defensive self when it came to her looks.

  ‘Maggie, for god’s sake, look at the future formal pictures, you look like some teenage supermodel.’ Mand pointed at the spread. ‘Once you can see your face from beneath that fringe, you’ve got cheekbones like icebergs and lips like you’ve been punched in the gob. Wanda, what do you reckon? You could do the make-up and we could use one of your outfits. And Belle, you could take an amazing photo. I’ll even get my mum along to do the hair.’

  ‘I think that’s a wicked idea!’ said Belle. ‘Maggie does have an amazing face.’

  ‘Yeah, I can kind of see what you’re saying,’ said Cat, who felt the green-eyed monster of jealousy rise inside her because nobody had suggested that she should be on the cover. ‘But really, is the lunchtime library chick with no mates – no offence Maggie – really the kind of image we want to portray in our magazine?’

  ‘That’s not fair, Maggie has mates,’ said Wanda. ‘I, for one, count Maggie as a friend.’

  ‘Me too,’ said Mand. ‘Maggie has been the surprise package of this whole project. I don’t think I ever noticed you existed before this.’

  ‘Thanks, Mand,’ said Maggie. ‘I think.’

  ‘It would be kind of kooky if we won it with Maggie on the cover,’ said Belle. ‘No one would even know it was you. You hide beneath that fringe like it’s a burqa!’

  ‘I’m not sure I really want to have my face plastered all over Baywood,’ said Maggie.

  ‘At least give it a go,’ said Mand. ‘If you hate the photo, we don’t have to do it. Deal?’

  Maggie reluctantly agreed but insisted they have a backup photo just in case she changed her mind. It was a big thing for her, the idea of opening herself up to the ridicule of the whole school – just who would they think she was, thinking that she was pretty enough to be on the cover of a magazine? Then the thought occurred to her that they might not even win the competition and the only ones who would ever get to see her picture would be the Mag Hags and the teachers. For Maggie, there was comfort in that thought.

  The girls spent the rest of the night trying to come up with an image that represented all of them, but using Maggie as the blank canvas to project onto.

  ‘Why don’t we just shoot Maggie’s face, really close up?’ said Mand. ‘I’m sick of all these celebrities flashing their bits all over the place. It’s so trashy. You can be strong and sexy without being cheap.’

  ‘But then you don’t get to see Wanda’s clothes,’ said Belle. ‘Have you got any ideas, Wanda?’

  ‘I’ve got this tiny little jumper, in red, blue and white angora wool. I knitted it last year. It’s got a deep V-neck, which would show off Maggie’s fantastic collarbones. It’s pretty sexy, but cool, if you shoot it from the nipples up.’

  ‘That sounds wicked,’ said Belle. ‘And what about attitude, what are we trying to say?’

  ‘That we are sexy, funny, smart, intelligent chicks who know where we’re heading,’ said Cat.

  Mand stuck her finger in her mouth and contemplated what Cat had just said. ‘Mand, don’t move a muscle!’ said Belle, picking up her camera and taking a photo. ‘I think I just saw the cover!’

  Just at that moment the head of a gorgeous boy popped through the door. Mand gasped, but hopefully not out loud. It was the boy from the photograph. She’d recognise that face anywhere. However, he was cuter in real life. His thick black hair swept across his forehead like a wave. His eyebrows turned down, making him look wise and mysterious.

  ‘Hey, Belly,’ said the head, smiling a big wide smile, framed by the cutest dimples.

  ‘Zeb!’ Belle jumped up out of her seat and ran to hug him. ‘You’re home. I didn’t know you were coming today.’

  Zeb’s whole body appeared in the doorway. He was wearing a black T-shirt that clung to his body in all the right places, brown checked shorts that hung low and scraped his knees, and no shoes. ‘What’s Mag Hag Central?’ he asked, reading the sign on the door.

  ‘We’re creating a magazine for school,’ explained Belle. ‘We’re called the Mag Hags – Wanda, Cat, Maggie, Mand, this is my brother Zeb.’

  All eyes were already drawn to Zeb. It wasn’t often that a sixteen-year-old being of such gorgeousness turned up unexpectedly in their lives. The girls were transfixed until Belle’s father broke the magic spell. He appeared just behind Zeb and slapped him on the back with enough force to send him staggering forward.

  ‘Trust you to find the girls,’ said Adrian, winking at Zeb. ‘Chip off the old block, aren’t you, son.’

  ‘Dad!’ said Zeb.

  ‘Anyway, leave these ladies alone,’ he said. ‘They are supposed to be working.’

  Mand couldn’t believe that Zeb could possibly be the fruit of Adrian’s loins. The good looks definitely had to have come from his mum.

  ‘Okay, catch you later, Belle, and nice to meet you, girls,’ said Zeb, staring straight at Mand. Their eyes locked for a split second, making Mand feel quite sick. She blinked away from the intensity of his gaze and then spent the evening convincing herself that she had actually imagined it.

  After the girls had left, Zeb came back into the office.

  ‘Hey, Belly.’

  ‘Zeb I thought you weren’t coming back until Friday for the “family” dinner with Dad and Reanne.’

  ‘As it’s Dad’s wedding, I blagged a pass to study at home. How’s the magazine going?’

  Belle told him about the plan to shoot Maggie for the cover. Zeb said he thought their father had some lights up in the attic – he’d bought them when he took up photography in a vain attempt to distract himself after their mum had died.

  Belle and Zeb went to the top floor of the house. Zeb took a chair from one of the bedrooms and pulled down the aluminum ladder that led to the roof, then scurried up into the dusty attic to see if he could find the lights. Belle stood below listening to his footsteps.

  ‘Belle, you should see this,’ he called down the stairs.

  Belle, who had never been up into the attic before, gingerly climbed the ladder to find Zeb looking inside an old wardrobe full of women’s clothing.

  ‘Do you remember this?’ he said, pulling out an elegant plum-coloured coat.

  ‘Wow, these are Mum’s clothes!’

  Belle looked into the wardrobe and pulled out
a white cashmere cardigan with a scalloped collar. She took a deep breath but could no longer smell any trace of her mother, just the smell of mothballs.

  Suddenly a well of grief rose up through Belle’s body, spilling out of her eyes in the form of big, fat, wet tears. ‘I didn’t know that Dad had kept anything of Mum’s.’

  ‘Sorry Belle, I didn’t mean to upset you,’ said Zeb, coming over and embracing her in one of those awkward brother and sister hugs.

  ‘Zeb, it’s alright but I’m really worried about Dad.’ said Belle after the tears had stopped. ‘Reanne is only after his money, she doesn’t give a damn about him.’

  ‘Belle! Dad’s really happy for the first time since Mum died, don’t spoil it for him, okay? I know Reanne can be a little self-obsessed, but he said she makes him feel alive.’

  ‘She’s a two-faced bitch who wants to send me to boarding school, actually,’ said Belle. ‘My friends overheard her talking about it to one of her friends in the changing room at Glitz. And she’s still seeing her old boyfriend who’s a kickboxing champion and I’ve got proof. It’s all on my friend Cat’s phone. Cat recorded her saying that she’s marrying Dad for the money.’

  ‘That’s a pretty big accusation. Have you spoken to Dad about it?’

  ‘He thinks I’m just jealous that he spends all of his time with her.’

  ‘Maybe you are. She’s actually quite a cool chick once you get beyond the blonde hair and silly laugh.’

  ‘That’s what you think! You’re just like every other guy, blinded because she’s so attractive.’

  ‘Oh please, that’s a little too weird, even for you,’ said Zeb. ‘She’s Dad’s future wife. My soon-to-be stepmother.’

  ‘Don’t use that word, ever,’ shouted Belle, her voice high and shrill. ‘She’ll never be our mother! We have a mother, or perhaps you’ve just forgotten that.’