Faking It

by Lotte Daley

  ‘His name is Ed, he’s cool. Old chap, don’t worry, Katie, it’s not your man-crush, Sam Bailey.’

  ‘I don’t have a crush on Bailey,’ I said, smoothing down my dress and adjusting my tit tape.

  ‘Whatever.’ Frenella quipped.

  ‘Yes, well, even if you did, remember I told you he’s bad news,’ Hanna said gravely. ‘And I was right about Jack and Danielle, wasn’t I, Katie?’ she said knowingly and with such conviction that I guess, well, she probably was right.In that case, I really ought to believe her more, because the people I loved and cherished and trusted implicitly have broken my heart into a zillion little un-put-back-together-able pieces. I was like a glamorous Humpty Dumpty. All the camp queens’ clothing and all the fit men, couldn’t put Katie Lewis together again …

  Triiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing!

  The doorbell went. I wondered if it was Richard, back with a fresh Prada shirt or something. I went to the door.

  ‘Danielle?’ I said, shocked to the core. My blood ran cold. She stood there happy as Larry, bottle of Rioja in one hand and what smelled suspiciously like Chinese food in the other.

  ‘You know I don’t eat carbs any more,’ I seethed, eyes narrowed.

  ‘Jesus, Katie, what’s eating you? That is, if you eat any more, you’re all skin and bones.’

  ‘Hardly,’ I snapped. ‘This is a Donna Karan dress, and Donna Karan does not dress people who are skin and bones, she dresses women with fabulous figures, like moi,’ I said haughtily.

  Danielle stood there dumbstruck. I knew what she was thinking. Who was this girl, where was podgy Katie Lewis, pushover Katie Lewis, her best friend?

  ‘I don’t think you’re a pushover, Katie,’ Danielle said, matter-of-fact. Fuck, my thoughts did a detour past my brain and tumbled out into the cold night air.

  ‘I don’t think you’re podgy, either. I was joking. You know, that was a thing we used to do before all this …’ she shrugs her shoulders.

  ‘Before this drama?’ I screech at her.

  ‘Well, yes, Katie, if you must know, yes, before this drama.’

  ‘Right … and you have, like, no idea do you, of the damage you do, do you ever take responsibility for anything in your life, or do you just go about fucking other people’s boyfriends and husbands?’

  Danielle visibly reddens and then pales. Stewart-small-penis was Danielle’s Achilles heel. She’s trembling and her voice cracks with the weight of her emotion.

  ‘I do NOT fuck other people’s boyfriends and I have zero clue what you are talking about, Katie. What is your problem, exactly?’

  ‘What is my problem?!’ I shout louder, waving my glass around in her face, one finger pointing at her as the vodka sloshes over the edge of the glass and on to her shoes.

  ‘Fucking hell, Katie, these are suede!’

  ‘So!’ I spit. ‘Fuck your shoes!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Like you fucked Jack!’ There, I’ve said it.

  ‘Katie, are you on drugs?’ Danielle says slowly.

  ‘Don’t be stupid,’ I wobble.

  ‘What the hell is wrong with you!’ she screams back. ‘I absolutely did not fuck Jack, you silly girl!’

  ‘Well …’ I begin, sneering at her.

  ‘Jack,’ she continues, pointing furiously at me, ‘by the way, is NOT your boyfriend and hasn’t been for a while now, so I could fuck him if I felt like it, which I don’t …’

  ‘So you did!’ I shriek, ignoring her words.

  Danielle’s face twists with incredulous disbelief and her eyes dart back and forward.

  ‘Talk about jumping in my grave! How long has it been going on?!’ I bellow, shaking her by the shoulders.

  ‘I don’t know what you’ve heard, Katie, but it’s not how it looks, or how it seems. Jack and I …’

  SLAP!

  My hand stings hot against skin. Hearing her refer to herself and Jack as a couple, as two people in one sentence, platonic or otherwise, was just way too much for me.

  A sharp silence fills the air.

  I just hit my best friend. Oh shit! Shit, shit, shit! What have I done? I stand backwards and bite my lip hard. I taste a bit of blood in my mouth.

  Danielle gasps.

  ‘Oh my God,’ she whispers as she stares right at me with a look of pure disgust. Despite the fact I have just slapped my best friend for apparently sleeping with my ex-boyfriend, she should hit me back, do something, anything back to me but she can’t do anything. She’s rooted to the spot and her eyes are filling with tears. Her hands are full of food and alcohol, she’s a rabbit in the headlights and I’m driving the car. I’m crying now, in full force.

  ‘You fucking awful nasty double-crossing slag!’ I scream at her.

  ‘Kate?’ she says, stuttering. ‘I am so beyond hurt right now, so absolutely, insanely upset with you right now, I haven’t done anything wrong, what you think, is not how it was, how it is, I’m sorry that you …’

  ‘Too late for apologies, Danielle, you cow!’ I shout. Hanna appears behind me, holds my shoulders and stops me throttling Danielle.

  ‘This is insane, Katie, you’re wrong, I don’t know what lies you’ve been fed, but this is totally outrageous and you are so completely out of order, but I’m willing to forgive you.’ She measures her words. I can tell she is furious but she’s hiding it, kind of. She breathes deep and places the food she brought by her feet. She continues.

  ‘We need to talk some more about this, when you are sober, as you clearly have no idea what you’re doing right now …’

  ‘I know what I saw!’ I shriek, not knowing exactly what I saw and wanting to stop, to listen to her explanations but fuelled by the booze, the glamour of my evening, the dresses, the promise of a new life. I couldn’t stop, I couldn’t just say ‘OK’ and invite her in, we were going out, and I was going to make it big and show the world exactly what I was made of. The mention of Jack still hurt a lot and I couldn’t possibly imagine what it would be like if I really had seen Danielle having it off with Jack. It looked bad, you can’t deny that those photographs did Danielle no favours. And so what if she was right, that they weren’t shagging, it still doesn’t explain what the hell they were doing together. I’d need intense therapy for evermore if they have even so much as air-kissed each other. But what if I was wrong? I had to save face in front of my new friends – there is no way I will back down now, not when they’re hearing every single word we’re saying …

  ‘But … oh my God …’ she begins, as it dawns on her that I won’t be budging. Hanna cuts her off.

  ‘Why don’t you take your nasty, poisonous self away from Katie?’ she sneers.

  ‘Yeah, get outta here!’ Frenella calls from the living room before bursting into rapturous laughter.

  ‘You’re so drunk,’ Danielle says.

  ‘And you’re a bitch!’ I retort. ‘Hanna was right all along.’

  ‘Well,’ Danielle says, shoving the wine into my hands and gesturing to the bag of Chinese food on the floor. ‘So, you don’t want to talk to me right now about this stupid, crazy idea you have in your head that, for the record, isn’t true, and you will know this, when you are back on this planet.’ She attempts a laugh.

  Why is she being so good about this? Is she mocking me? She must be!

  ‘So, you’re not interested in talking about this?’ she says, as a small tear escapes down her face and nestles on her lips, which are quivering slightly with emotion. ‘Are you serious? You really, honestly, truthfully swear on the cat’s life?’ she pleads.

  I stare back at her through narrow eyes.

  ‘Come on, Katie, this is so silly …’ she reaches for my arm.

  ‘No,’ I say, turning away.

  Frenella passes me the envelope. ‘Want these?’ she whispers.

  ‘Yes,’ I say politely to Frenella before turning back to my ex-best friend. ‘Want to know why I can’t even look at you right now, you lying cow?’

  ‘Tell me!’ she screams
back, her voice shaking.

  ‘Here!’ I shriek, with one final vitriolic rant. ‘Take these, Danielle Kingsley,’ I say, pushing the file into her arms, ‘and shove them up your fat arse!’

  Danielle’s eyebrows furrowed, her eyes filled up with tears and my heart broke once again, that very moment, for real, as I turned my back on my devastated best friend, as, clutching the envelope, she sobbed into her sleeve.

  ‘Why Katie? Why?’

  ‘I ask myself that all the time,’ I said. And then I closed the door on Danielle.

  ‘Give me a minute,’ I said to Hanna. Wordlessly, Hanna retreated back into the living room, closing the door tight. I reached for my phone.

  ‘I told her where to stick those photos,’ I text Richard.

  Message sent.

  I fought back the biggest tears in the entire world. I loved Danielle more than I’ve ever loved anyone, even a man. Not in a lesbo way, just she was my best friend, we’d been through so much together, which is why I just can’t fathom how she could do this to me. She knew how much Jack meant to me. Lord, give me strength, I prayed, for the first time in my life.

  ‘Right!’ I said, standing up and wiping my eyes on a tissue. I looked good still, nothing a bit of lippy and Touche Éclat wouldn’t fix. I opened the door to see the girls carrying on as though nothing had ever happened.

  ‘I’ll take that!’ Hanna said, grabbing my phone and putting it in her bag. ‘No drunk texting, dialling or Facebooking from that BlackBerry!’ she said sternly.

  ‘Good thinking, Batman,’ I said, wincing at the memory of a phrase I used with both Jack and Danielle. Neither of whom is any longer present in my life. Hanna just stood there, glowing. She seemed so happy. I wonder what it’s like for folk to be that happy all of the time. I really had her wrong, you know, and tonight just proved it. She stood up for me, she supported me and she’s arranged for us to go to the most exclusive place in London, probably, and you know, she’s just been amazing.

  BEEP!

  ‘Oooh, tinkles,’ Frenella said, jumping to her feet. Her little legs moved fast towards the window where she peeked out into the night. ‘Ed’s here in the Hummer!’ she squealed with delight.

  ‘Great, fabulous, let’s go, darling, oh and tonight,’ Hanna winked at me, ‘I have you something extra special lined up to cheer you up on what has been a crazy day for you.’

  ‘Oh, yeah, you got that right,’ I said, feeling suddenly sober. All the adrenaline that had pumped through my system from my altercation with Danielle had subsided and I felt as though I’d climbed a giant mountain. I felt both heady and exhausted.

  ‘Here,’ she said, pulling me close for another hug. ‘I have you a room booked, the very best room there is, in The Mayfair, no less,’ she said, smirking.

  ‘The Mayfair?’ I said, unsure as to which one that was.

  ‘It’s super classy, darling, and très expensive, thanking me, no?’ she said, with mock sorrow.

  ‘Of course, thank you, Hanna, that’s a wonderful gift!’

  ‘You’re very welcome,’ she smiles as we all trot outside to the Hummer.

  As I leave I notice the Chinese dinner left in the hall. It was a symbol of a friendship gone wrong, in all its sugary carbohydrate glory. Everybody who was anybody famous knew that carbs were bad for you …

  Chapter 17

  ‘KATIE!! OVER HERE, LOVE! AAAAATTTTA GAL … SMASHING!’

  The paps were, like, all over me. Totally chaotic, people I didn’t know screaming my name, wanting my picture. I looked hot, so they got what they wanted.

  ‘SEXY HOT GAAAAWJUSS, LAAAHHVV!’

  Oooh this is good! My problems melted away with each camera flash.

  ‘Mwah!’ I blew a kiss to the press.

  ‘Come on, star girl, don’t want to be overexposed now, do we, darling,’ Hanna whispered in my ear whilst posing provocatively next to me.

  ‘QUICKLY, KATE, WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT JESSICA HILSON’S ENGAGEMENT TO YOUR EX-BOYFRIEND, JACK HUNTER?’

  My stomach churned.

  ‘I’M SORRY!’ I called back over the noise of the flashbulbs. ‘BUT I HAVE NO IDEA WHO YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT!’ And I threw them an over-the-shoulder wink as I sashayed into Mahiki, bypassing the queues.

  ‘Right, girls, what are we drinking?’ I said, rubbing my hands together with glee.

  ‘Table,’ Hanna says, as a muscle-bound attendant comes towards us. He bypasses Hanna and addresses me. Whoah! This is the first time this has happened! I look at Hanna, but she’s looking the other way, pretending that she’s not just been snubbed by Mahiki staff.

  ‘Katie Lewis, I am a huuuuuge fan!’ he gushed.

  ‘Thanks!’ I said, blushing.

  ‘Let me take you to the most amazing table we have. It’s way up here, on a top level, you can see all the action, but no one can really see much of you!’ he said, as we followed him to a round table with seating and a curtain that we could pull around us if we wished.

  Suddenly, he pulled my arm sharply towards him and whispered, ‘Keep this on the down low, but two of your most favourite people in the whole entire world may be arriving here, just so you know, the place is crawling with undercover showbiz types looking for the juice on you …’ he said with a smile plastered across his face. He turned to the group.

  ‘My name is Ryan and I’ll be your personal slave this evening,’ he winked. ‘First drinks are on the house,’ he said as he moved off in the direction of the bar. The music was pumping loud with cool funky house beats. I felt truly euphoric, despite everything that had happened to me of late. Hanna’s hard-nosed personality seemed to be rubbing off on me. As I gained power and status through fame, she became more subservient towards me. Just the little things I noticed, like looking out for me and saying nice things, the look in her eyes now suggested respect instead of pity. And they say it’s what’s on the inside that counts? Bollocks, it’s all about what you look like, why else would my friendships have suddenly blossomed into the kind of friends I’ve always wanted? Why else indeed.

  ‘This is HOT!’ Frenella shouted above the bass-line beats. She stood up and started dancing on the podium next to us. She was pretty good. Her body twisted and turned with the rhythm of the music.

  Pippa Strong fiddled with her shirt for the zillionth time this evening as Hanna huddled closer to me and flashed megawatt smiles at all the hunks checking us out from every direction. Fame tasted great. The drinks were placed upon our table in huge glasses full of sparkling alcohol with frosted rimmed tops. Amazingly intricate decorative fruit pieces adorned the top of the drinks.

  ‘Mmmm!’ I grinned, taking a sip.

  ‘The cocktails in here are to die for,’ Hanna said breezily. She’d been here a thousand times before, I suppose she knew what she was talking about.

  ‘Worth the £200-a-round tab,’ she said, as though she was discussing the price of fish.

  ‘Oomph’ I said, spluttering slightly. Hanna raised her eyebrow in alarm.

  ‘Don’t worry, darling,’ she soothed. Hmm. I was half expecting her to shoot me down like she normally does when I shoot alcohol out of my nose, fall over my own feet or accidentally say the word ‘fuck’ in public.

  ‘First round’s on the house, remember?’

  ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘Yes! Do you know how much positive PR you will bring merely just by sitting your peachy derrière on that seat?’

  ‘No … well … I guess?’

  ‘No guessing about it, baby cakes, you’re a star now, don’t you forget it!’

  ‘I know!’ I said, drunkenly letting it slip out. How vain of me! I wasn’t drunk, though. I mean, I was but not in the way I was last night, slipping and sliding all over the place. Bad times. I felt properly in control and très smug.

  ‘Thanks, Hanna,’ I said, feeling a rush of happiness.

  ‘What for?’ she replied, smiling bright red glossy lips.

  ‘For …’ I was about to say, for being a shit-hot PR, for
kicking my butt into losing weight, for putting me in touch with the amazing hair god Ziggy Wang, for making me feel good about myself for the first time since all this Jack Hunter debacle began, for introducing me to Tom Theodore, the most stylish man on earth, for Aubrey and his Botox, for Frenella and her writing and her nails, for Bailey … I wanted to say all of those things and more, but I remembered watching and cringing at the Oscars circa 1999, when Gwyneth Paltrow’s acceptance speech went on for an age … No, must not be gushy. Thinking about all the help I’d had to look this amazing, it was a great wonder to me how half the mega famous movie stars even got out of the house of a morning. I wonder what they’d look like pre-stylist, pre-zero carb and pre-high maintenance. I couldn’t imagine shopping in Boots ever again for cosmetics. So passé.

  Hanna looked at me adoringly.

  ‘I wanted to say thanks,’ I began again, forgetting about not wanting to gush and totally gushing all over her, ‘for being you, my new best friend!’

  I felt like I’d just told the man of my dreams that I loved him for the first time. My words hung not so silently in the air, due to our club surroundings, and there was that split-second moment when the fear of rejection makes you pull a weird face where you’re getting ready to say, ‘Only joking, God, don’t take me seriously, booze, too much, makes me love eeeeeeveryone, honestly, hah, aren’t I silly?’

  Except Hanna Frost didn’t reject me.

  ‘I love you too, and you’re totally my best friend!’ she giggles and pulls me in for a hug. I belong here, I think to myself. I really do.

  ‘I’m just going to go to the bathroom,’ I say above the noise to Hanna. ‘Come with?’

  ‘No, darling, I’m going to stay here,’ she says. ‘I have my eye on a very naughty-looking man wearing Lanvin …’ she licks her lips.

  ‘I’ll come,’ says Pippa.

  ‘OK, cool,’ I say and Pippa alights, arranges her shirt and we walk towards the ladies’ loos.

  ‘There’s no queue?’ I exclaim in surprise.

  ‘VIP,’ the loo lady says, as she chews gum slowly.