‘So where do you perform?’
‘I’m with an agency, we get hired for big events like corporate conferences. Which is just code for being perved at, but hey, all part of the job.’
Cassie laughed.
Just then Ramona noticed her outfit. ‘Girl, you’re looking like you’ve been put through a refit. Who are you now, corporate Barbie?’
Cassie chuckled. ‘Thanks for noticing, it’s teacher Barbie, actually.’
She explained the whole saga of the interview and it actually felt such a relief to unload her feelings over strong coffee, scrumptious sandwich and Ramona’s bullshit-free gaze.
‘Sounds wholesome, I like it. Don’t think I could do it but, you know, part of me envies you.’ Again, Cassie detected the loneliness in Ramona’s tone.
‘Really? If I could do what you do, I’d swap.’
‘You wouldn’t, trust me. Once you get used to doing anything, it’s a job. You must know that from acting.’
Cassie nodded. It was true. This was an incredibly hard way to make money, however enviable and magical it might require your body to become.
‘So, you’re seeing your beau this evening for a special date. What’re you going to wear?’
‘Jeans and a black top?’
‘Stop!’ Ramona raised her palm. ‘Don’t offend my ears. Girlfriend, this is aThursdaynight and thereforepre-weekend, and therefore you have to look bewitching with your killer figure in your most alluring outfit. You have got to stun him.’
Cassie let her mind wander over her sensible, well-washed underwear, her cosy jumpers, graphic tees and stripy tops. None of it seemed quite up to the job of stunning anyone. Ramona could see her hesitation.
‘Don’t panic. We can salvage this. Trust me.’
Cassie had the feeling she was being sucked into Ramona’s world, which was going to leave her own humdrum version of life face down in the dust.
‘Girlfriend, we are going to turn you into agoddess, you are going to go out of here this eveningon another level. He will not recognise you.’
Cassie could hear alarm bells at the idea of being unrecognisable; on the other hand, Ramona’s confidence was infectious. Seriously, what could go wrong?
Under her flatmate’s surveillance, Cassie went through her drawers and pulled out a tangle of lacy underwear. They settled on a silver-and-aqua set from Victoria’s Secret which she’d fallen in love with the previous year in a moment of excitement after hearing she’d been booked for the deodorant job. The labels were still on, so she’d never worn the items, which said something about how much time she’d spent with Gav in the last few months.
‘These are passable,’ announced Ramona, now leafing through her wardrobe. She fished out a red satin mini slip dress with diamanté straps which was perfect for either a heaving nightclub or a country with a climate considerably warmer than this one.
‘Perfect, now what about shoes?’
Cassie was dragged into Ramona’s room and saw it in its totality for the first time. It looked more like the wardrobe department for Cirque du Soleil than the average person’s bedroom. Angel wings, silver boots, wigs, an ominous-looking Crocodile Dundee whip – not to mention a five-foot-high Perspex champagne glass which was currently full of richly coloured feather boas and ostrich fans.
‘Ramona, is that for .?.?.?’
‘My burlesque act. Only damn problem is travelling with it. Try hauling that lot through airport security. I’m going to have to find someone to make one for me in the States.’
In a bowl on the dressing table were a number of objects she didn’t recognise.
‘Sorry for being nosy, but what are those C-shaped things? Are they hair accessories?’
Ramona looked at her in astonishment and then burst out laughing.
‘No, sweetie, the other end – they just keep everything in place during my act.’
‘Right, gotcha.’
Cassie felt a bit silly – what else were these, after all, but Ramona’s normal work clothes.
