Unwillingly, Elle gave her a twirl with a forced smile along with jazz hands.
Pippa bent down underneath the coffee table. ‘That outfit will look great with these,’ she said, hooking a pair of strappy peach stilettos around her fingers and holding them in the air.
‘I’m not sure,’ replied Elle, thinking immediately of her comfy – flat – Converse.
‘These are the height of fashion. Pop them on! Luckily for you, we’re the same size,’ Pippa replied.
‘More like unluckily for me,’ Elle muttered, slipping on the shoes. As soon as she stood up she wobbled from side to side.
‘Now walk around the coffee table so I can have a proper look at you.’
Thrusting her hips forward, Elle began to strut around the table in time to the music, pretending she was on the catwalk. She moved unsteadily as the heel of the left shoe got entangled in the rug, and reached out towards Pippa, knocking her glass of wine out of her hand.
‘Whoa, okay, maybe let’s ditch the heels,’ Pippa agreed, quickly using a make-up wipe to mop up the spilled wine.
Thank God for that, Elle thought, kicking them from her feet.
‘But what about this look in general?’
‘I feel like a drag queen, and I look like a drag queen – and not a good one at that,’ Elle shared, slumping on to the settee. ‘If I have to go to all this trouble to impress Noah, is it really worth it?’
‘Trust me, you look amazing. You do trust me, don’t you?’
‘Hmmm.’ Elle replied. ‘I’m not entirely sure – the jury’s still out on that one.’
‘Let’s take some photos and see how you look.’ Pippa wasn’t taking no for an answer. ‘Come on – get posing,’ she said, picking up her phone.
‘I can’t, I feel stupid.’
‘I’ll tell you what – I’ll disappear into the kitchen. Now stand in front of the fireplace,’ she demanded.
Elle had never felt as uncomfortable in her own skin as she did at that moment. Taking selfies wasn’t something that came easily to her, unlike Pippa, who’d spend ample time photographing herself.
‘Tilt your chin up – and the other one,’ Pippa joked, as Elle grappled with her phone, trying to get it to focus.
‘It’s no use, I can’t even see all of myself,’ Elle exclaimed.
Pippa slowly lifted up Elle’s arm until the top half of her body came into view on the screen. ‘How do you not know how to take selfies at your age?’
‘Because I don’t need to spend my time posing, pouting and posting pictures just so any Tom, Dick and Harry can give them a like to make me feel wanted. I’m quite happy with people liking me in the real world, for who I am.’
‘The lady doth protest too much,’ Pippa replied, dismissing her answer. ‘Now start clicking.’
Elle took a deep breath and pressed the button.
‘OMG, that looks awful.’
Pippa peered over her shoulder. ‘Mmm, yes, that one doesn’t do you justice. Do it like this.’ Taking the phone from Elle’s hand, Pippa smiled and then took numerous photos of herself before stopping and staring at them.
‘Ooh no, definitely no, don’t like that or that one,’ she said, deleting them straightaway. ‘That one’s okay-ish, that one is a no… That’s the one,’ she exclaimed, grinning, holding out the phone towards Elle.
‘Actually, not bad,’ Elle agreed.
‘Then we do this, this and this and look!’ Pippa twisted the phone back towards Elle.
‘Jeez, Pippa, you look like you’ve just shed ten pounds and have been sunning yourself on a Caribbean island! Where did you get that tan from?’ Elle spluttered, amazed at the image staring back at her.
‘Filters. Easy peasy and … posted,’ she said. ‘Your turn.’
