by Karen Swan
‘Hey, Debbie,’ he said, greeting her with a kiss on both cheeks. ‘Good to see you again.’
‘A pleasure to see you, Mr Westlake. Is everything OK for you?’
‘Absolutely,’ he nodded, looking over at Nettie. He stepped forward, trying to peer past the black mesh that covered the bunny’s eye sockets and which allowed her to see out but no one to see in. His face was just inches from the rabbit head and her eyes roamed him like a foreign land, taking in the slightly forward thrust of his jaw, the hard glint in his eyes.
‘That you in there, Nettie?’ he asked.
‘Who else?’ Her voice in reply was surprisingly flinty.
He straightened up, nodding slightly, no trace of a smile on his lips. ‘Who else indeed.’ His hands were in his jeans pockets.
Debbie looked between them both, hesitation on her features – had she been expecting hugs and kisses? ‘I must say, everyone’s so delighted you’ve agreed to the interview as well this time.’
‘Yes, well, I’m intending to let Nettie do most of the talking.’
Debbie gave a nervous laugh, before her expression changed suddenly as she remembered something. ‘Oh God! Where’s my brain? We must get you rigged up to the mics.’ She jogged over to the nearest table and picked up two small, black square packs with wires hanging from them. She handed one to Jamie, who instantly, expertly, slotted the clip of the pack into the back of the waistband of his jeans, stringing the wire up under his shirt and clipping the mic to the front.
Debbie handed the same to Nettie, realizing their conundrum in the very same moment. ‘Oh!’
‘Uh . . .’ Nettie looked down at herself. There was nothing to clip the pack on to, on the outside of the costume.
‘Have you got a waistband inside the suit that you can clip it on to?’ she asked.
‘Uh, well, just my . . .’ Nettie lowered her voice, not wanting Jamie to overhear. ‘You said it would be hot, so I . . . you know, took off my jeans,’ she whispered. ‘Will it be too heavy for my . . . pants?’
Debbie looked panicked. ‘Oh golly. I’m not sure.’
‘I haven’t had to wear one of those things before.’
Jamie was watching with dark interest. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing,’ Debbie said brightly, before lowering her voice to Nettie. ‘We’ll just have to hope for the best and pray it doesn’t slide south. How do you get this thing on?’
‘Oh, there’s a Velcro tape along the back,’ Nettie said, turning round so that Debbie could undo it.
A sudden sound in Debbie’s ear made her stop. She pressed her fingers up to the earpiece. ‘What? Speak up – I can’t hear you . . . Well, what’s he doing over there?’ She rolled her eyes. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me. I can’t deal with this now . . . No, I’m rigging the mics for the next—’
‘Let me,’ Jamie said, calmly stepping forward and taking the mic pack from her hand. ‘I’ve put on enough of these things to do it in my sleep.’
Debbie hesitated. ‘Well . . . if you’re sure,’ she said, looking at Nettie.
‘Really, there’s no time,’ Jamie said. ‘Go do what you need to do.’
‘Thank you. I’ll be straight back,’ she replied, hurrying off.
The door hadn’t even closed behind her when Jamie ripped the Velcro apart, making Nettie jump as her bare back was suddenly exposed.
She stood very still, mortified that this was happening. Why – why had she listened to Debbie? If she’d just kept her mouth shut, Nettie would still be wearing her jeans and jumper, happily bundled up, instead of standing here now in a bra and G-string under the bunny costume.
‘Oh,’ he said after a moment. ‘There’s not very much for this to . . . uh . . . clip on to.’
‘Well, it’s going to have to do,’ she muttered, flinching as his cold fingers brushed against her warm skin and clipped the pack on to the waistband of her knickers.
She felt the waistband sag beneath the weight and she groaned. Thank God he couldn’t see her face right now.
‘Here, you need to pull the wire through to the front and up so that it comes out at the neck,’ he said, pushing his hand round her waist to her tummy, the wire pinched between his fingers.
She held up one bulky paw. There was no way it would grip the tiny mic, even if she was able to stuff the large furred arm down the front of the suit – which she wasn’t. ‘How? How am I supposed to do that?’ she asked, feeling increasingly desperate.
‘Jesus, Nettie,’ he muttered.
‘It’s not my fault!’
There was a brief silence and then . . .
‘Well, just lean forward a bit.’
She obeyed, biting her lip as she felt him trying to trail the wire up her torso with his left hand, while reaching for it from the top with his right. He couldn’t help but brush her skin as he leaned and reached over her. She couldn’t help but jump at his touch. He kept pausing as though expecting her to scream for help, or at least slap him.
‘It’s fine. Just . . . just get on with it,’ she muttered, hoping he couldn’t see the goosebumps. She closed her eyes shut, ‘Groupie, groupie, groupie . . .’ running on a ticker tape behind her eyelids.
His right hand found the mic and he visibly relaxed as he drew it out through the top and clipped it on to the collar of the suit. ‘There.’
He stepped back and swallowed – ‘Oh wait’ – before remembering to retape the Velcro at the back, protecting her modesty again.
‘Thank you,’ she said to the floor.
A man came to the door and peered in. He was wearing headphones. ‘Ready?’
Jamie nodded, but his eyes were still on her.
‘You’re on. Follow me, please.’
They crossed the room, Jamie holding the door open for her, which – to her utter indignity – she could scarcely squeeze through; she heard him give a quiet snort behind her.
Ahead, the lights of the set blazed, the glass backdrop that overlooked the pedestrianized square outside like an inky mirror. She could see Alex and Matt on the sofa, already doing their intro, playing a series of shots of Jamie in concert, followed by clips showing the highlights of the campaign.
The man in the headphones laughed silently as he led them across the studio floor and gestured for them to sit on the sofas. The presenters greeted them with cheery handshakes, just as the clips finished on her throwing the water over Jamie just last night at the ball. ‘I loved that one,’ the man in the headphones whispered, doing a final double-check of their mics. ‘Best one yet.’
Beside her Jamie stiffened, but he didn’t say a word. He couldn’t; the cameras were rolling again and Nettie heard their names being introduced to the audiences both in the studio and at home.
Jamie waved as the wolf whistles and cheers greeted them. Nettie worried she was going to fall off her seat – it wasn’t easy sitting in the costume, and the framed bulbous torso rested on her lap uncomfortably.
She tossed one of her ears back as she looked around, amazed to see some #bluebunnygirl signs being held up in the audience. She waved shyly. She had assumed everyone was cheering for Jamie.
‘Welcome, guys,’ Matt said. ‘We’re so pleased to have you on the show. And we’re actually going to get to talk to you tonight, as well as watch you perform, Jamie!’ Matt laughed. ‘Our researchers have been going into overdrive.’
Jamie laughed too. ‘Well, this is an important issue. I thought I might have something worth saying, for once.’
The presenters smiled, charmed by his un-rockstar modesty.
‘Absolutely. I know this is an issue very close to your heart –’ Alex smiled kindly.
Nettie felt Jamie stiffen beside her.
‘Because, of course, you lost your own brother to the disease several years ago now.’
There was a short silence as Jamie struggled to find his voice. Nettie was stunned. They had gone straight to the kill?
‘. . . That’s right.’ Jamie hadn’t shifted positio
n. He was looking laid-back, a smile upon his face, but up close, as she was, she could see it stopped before it reached his eyes, could tell he felt ambushed, that this was precisely the reason he never gave interviews. She felt sick. It was because of her that he was even sitting here. She had, after all, effectively blackmailed him to turn up.
Nettie felt her blood run cold as the words settled. His brother had died from testicular cancer? It all made perfect sense – his interest in the campaign was suddenly explained. It was nothing to do with her at all – he hadn’t followed her or donated because she was frightened or small or cute, but simply because she had accidentally put a spotlight on, as Mike would say, an unsexy disease. Had he been using her all this time? What was she to him? Just collateral? A decoy to boost his sales? A distraction for the record company so that he could release the song he wanted? A marketing tool to raise money against the disease that had killed his brother?
‘I suppose that’s why you agreed to become involved in the campaign?’ Alex added.
He nodded. And then added after a moment, ‘And because they offered me a pet bunny,’ he grinned, changing the course of the conversation and suddenly throwing an arm around Nettie and pulling her towards him matily. She knew he was only able to do that because he wasn’t actually touching her. ‘She’s mad, right?’
‘That’s for sure,’ Alex smiled. ‘Nettie, how does it feel in there?’ Alex asked her. ‘It must be awkward moving around in it?’
‘It is really unwieldy, yeah,’ Nettie replied. ‘Now I know how pregnant women must feel – I keep getting stuck in doors, behind chairs; I can’t see my feet – and these ones are pretty big!’ she laughed, leaning back slightly to lift her paws.
‘But it’s amazing what you’ve achieved in it,’ Alex continued. ‘Did you ever think it would be such a phenomenon?’
‘Oh God, no!’ Nettie guffawed. ‘It started out as an accident that was then posted . . . accidentally. But once we saw the impact it had had on people, we knew we had to try to keep the ball rolling. It’s an important message we’re trying to get out there.’
‘It certainly is,’ Matt said. ‘And, Jamie, I gather you were an early fan of the campaign, even before you were asked to become involved?’
‘That’s right.’
‘How did Blue Bunny first come to your attention?’
‘Oh, uh . . .’ Jamie thought back, sitting with his arms stretched out on the back of the sofa. ‘Well, we were doing a gig in Rome and hanging around backstage, waiting to go on. Gus, our bass guitarist, is a bit of a snow-sports nut and he was checking out the Ice Crush event on YouTube when he saw the link and showed it to us.’
‘And what . . . you thought, that looks completely insane. I’m up for joining in on that?’ Alex laughed.
He grinned. ‘No. I just thought she looked cute.’
‘Who, Bunny or . . . the girl inside?’ Alex teased.
‘Oh no, no. I meant Bunny,’ Jamie corrected quickly.
Matt looked across at her. ‘Because, of course, that’s the big thing about this, isn’t it? Everyone wants to know who you are.’
Nettie nodded. ‘They do seem to be quite curious.’
Everyone laughed, even Jamie, the consummate professional.
‘Why have you kept your identity a secret?’ Alex asked.
Nettie paused. ‘Well, to be honest, I guess I was just embarrassed at first to be, you know, wearing this costume. It felt a bit ridiculous. But then, as the campaign took off and they started asking me to do madder and madder things, it sort of made me feel braver, somehow, being incognito. It’s easier to throw off your inhibitions when you’re not being you.’
‘So you’re not a daredevil in your own life, then?’ Matt asked.
‘No, not at all.’ She shook her head, one ear falling over her eye again. She pushed it back. ‘I can’t even . . .’ She stalled as she realized what she was about to say. ‘I can’t even ice-skate and yet I ended up doing the Ice Crush course in this costume,’ she said slowly.
They laughed again, Jamie very still beside her.
‘And will we ever get to know who you really are? Because, I mean, your achievements, what you’ve accomplished for the charity, Tested, are really quite remarkable. You must want some sort of recognition, surely?’
‘No. It’s not about me. I’m just glad I haven’t been dressed up like this for no good reason! That would be pretty depressing.’
‘Well, what about you, Jamie? You know the girl inside the costume now. What can you tell us about her? Any teasers for our audience, because I can tell you, we’ve had a huge response since they heard you were both coming on the show.’
‘Um, well, she’s a brunette.’ Jamie looked at her. ‘I can say that, right?’
Nettie shrugged. ‘It doesn’t narrow it down too much,’ she quipped.
He laughed, looking back to the hosts.
‘Anything else?’ Matt asked, as Jamie stayed quiet.
There was another pause. ‘She’s from North London. Has an ex-boyfriend who’s still in love with her. Very private. Likes smoky-bacon crisps.’ He shrugged.
‘I’ve got it!’ Matt cried, pointing at them with a laugh. ‘I know exactly who you are!’
They all laughed again. There was so much obligatory laughing to do under these spotlights.
Nettie felt a trickle of sweat run down her spine.
‘Of course, there was a big hoo-ha earlier today about whether this wonderful partnership – which was only announced a few days ago – was in tatters already,’ Alex said, leading in to the next discussion.
Nettie froze inside her suit, but Jamie just cocked his head to the side questioningly, his smile never slipping.
‘Twitter’s been in uproar all day, imploring you to give Nettie a’ – she made speech marks in the air with her fingers – ‘“hashtag secondchance”.’
‘Has it?’ he asked.
‘Haven’t you seen it?’ Matt asked, leaning forward.
Jamie shook his head. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Blue Bunny’s made a video spoofing the Human League song “Don’t You Want Me?”’
‘Oh, is that about me?’ Jamie asked, turning to face Nettie without actually looking at her. ‘I vaguely heard about it.’
‘Well, she’s holding a framed picture of you in it,’ Matt laughed.
‘Sorry – we’ve been in the studio, getting the two tracks finalized for the vote on Friday,’ Jamie shrugged. ‘And we’re in post-production for the video with Coco. It’s been kind of mad recently.’
‘Yes, of course, there’s been a lot of coverage of you and the American singer Coco Miller recently.’
‘That’s right. We’re doing a duet together.’
Alex smiled. ‘And can I ask, are you . . . a duo outside of the studio too?’
‘You can certainly ask,’ Jamie quipped, before lulling into silence – a silence that stretched as the question everyone wanted an answer to (Nettie included) hung in the air. He shifted position on the sofa. ‘Well, look, I won’t deny it’s been a productive collaboration,’ he said finally. ‘We’re happy. We’ve been having a lot of fun together.’
‘Fun?’ Matt grinned.
‘Yes.’
Both the presenters sat back with delighted expressions, Matt rubbing his hands together excitedly at the scoop. Nettie didn’t move a muscle. Not one. She sat as frozen as a lump of ice on the sofa, profoundly grateful for the giant costume that was shielding her from the scrutiny of millions of viewers right now, hiding the tears that had begun snaking down her face as he sat beside her and broke her heart in front of the nation.
‘Well, she’s a beautiful girl,’ Alex smiled.
‘Yes, she is – inside and out,’ Jamie agreed.
‘And I guess it must help that she’s already in the business too. She understands the lifestyle,’ Matt prompted.
‘Yes, that’s a big thing. It’s a pretty crazy lifestyle.’
&n
bsp; ‘That’s putting it lightly. There was that incident only this weekend, wasn’t there, when you got caught in a store and some fans were injured on the escalators?’
Jamie nodded. ‘Sadly, yes.’
‘Can you tell us what happened exactly?’
Jamie inhaled deeply and Nettie could tell he was uncomfortable to be discussing this. ‘I’m not really sure. It was just a freak thing. I’d popped in to get a few things and got separated from my security team. Some people recognized me and it got crazy pretty quickly.’
‘But there’s a point in the footage when you actually seem to be trying to push your way back through the crowds. That’s the definition of madness isn’t it? Who were you trying to get to?’
‘Oh.’ Jamie laughed awkwardly. ‘One of my assistants got separated from us, and it was the first time she’d ever encountered anything like that. It can be pretty scary.’
‘I bet,’ Alex empathized. ‘Is she OK?’
Jamie’s mouth set into a flat line. ‘Yes. She’s learned very fast. She’s already playing the industry better than me.’
Still Nettie didn’t move.
‘Well, that’s good to hear,’ Alex said. ‘How about you?’ she asked, turning to Nettie again. ‘I imagine it’s been a baptism of fire, finding yourself spearheading the highest-profile charity campaign of the year?’
‘You could say that.’
‘Have you enjoyed it, though?’
‘Absolutely. We’re having a ball. I’m going to be sorry when the campaign’s finished.’
‘Which of course will be in just two days,’ Alex said, pulling a sad face.
‘I know, such a shame,’ she said, shaking her head.
‘Will you be sorry to hang up the suit? You’re almost as famous as Jamie now.’
‘No, I’m not,’ Nettie laughed.
‘Almost four million Twitter followers would beg to differ,’ Matt smiled.
‘But it’s not about me. It’s all an illusion. The crazy things they’re seeing on the films have nothing to do with who I am. There’ll be a new fad ten minutes from now, anyway. That’s the nature of the beast.’