‘On the bloody shelf!’
‘Trust me, no man is going to be able to resist this smoky eye make-up,’ she said, cranking up the music. ‘You look the business.’
‘That’s what I’m worried about.’
Elle was still staring open-mouthed at her reflection, tilting her head from side to side.
‘You need to pout like this.’ Pippa demonstrated.
‘You look ridiculous.’
‘Go on – give it a try!’
‘You’ll be advising me to inject collagen next – and Botox,’ Elle replied, laughing as she pouted back at her.
‘Now it’s you who looks ridiculous.’
Elle swiped her hand playfully. ‘All this for a brand-new profile picture.’
Pippa laughed. ‘You’ll thank me for this when your new look lands you a hot date with Noah.’
Elle swallowed, feeling a little flutter of nervousness at the mention of his name. ‘Let’s hope he goes for the half-dead porcelain doll look then, hey?’ Elle grinned. ‘Pass me some wine. I think I need it.’
‘What do you think of these?’ Pippa was now holding up a couple of dresses.
‘Very bright,’ Elle replied, wondering why she’d agreed to let Pippa give her a makeover. She was quite happy with her oversized hoodie, tattered jeans and Converse.
‘And that’s what we want … bright. Not the dowdy librarian look. Here, go and try them on – and grab a couple more, too.’
Reluctantly, Elle browsed through the collection of outfits that Pippa had laid out on the settee.
‘What’s this?’ she asked, picking up something that resembled a onesie.
Pippa laughed. ‘It’s a jumpsuit. Get with it!’
‘It looks like my PJs.’
‘They’re the latest fashion! They’re in every magazine right now.’
‘This is exactly why I don’t do fashion, and I don’t read magazines.’
Hopefully in another hour this torture would be over.
‘Go on, take these,’ Pippa insisted, thrusting a pile of clothes into Elle’s hand and pushing her up the stairs. ‘And do not mess up your hair,’ she shouted after her.
* * *
Five minutes later, Elle shouted from the top of the stairs like a sulky teenager, ‘I feel so uncomfortable.’
Pippa popped her head round the corner of the living room and stared up the stairs. ‘Wow, you look different – pretty good in fact. I reckon jumpsuits are your thing,’ she said with enthusiasm.
‘Do you now? I feel like I’m wearing a Babygro.’
‘Get yourself down here! Let’s have a proper look at you.’
Strolling down the stairs was uncomfortable to say the least. Elle’s knickers kept rising up her backside and for the umpteenth time she attempted to pull them down.
‘Stop fidgeting,’ Pippa ordered. ‘And give me a twirl.’
