He recognised her but had to rack his brain to pinpoint where he knew her from. She had long blonde wavy hair, which, after being married to an actress with almost exactly the same look, he was pretty sure came from someone else’s head and was then applied to the current owner at a ludicrously expensive salon. She also had lips that had clearly met a few vials of filler and a full face of expertly applied make-up. Sienna’s beauty bill ran into the thousands every month – which Ollie hadn’t realised until they had to provide their expenditure requirements in the divorce. If he ever got time off, he could have a week in the Bahamas every month for what she used to spend in the spa.
He snapped himself back to the present. He was having enough problems with his current girlfriend without circling back to the last one. Okay, here and now. This blonde lady. Attractive. Late twenties or early thirties. Scottish accent. She was one of the influencers that had helped with fundraising when the centre first opened. It was a double-win kind of situation – he gave them access which allowed them to make cool content featuring some of the celebrities that supported the centre and, in return, they added a link to the Academy’s fundraising page. In fact, this one went further than that. He remembered Moira telling him about how she’d given a free lecture to the students on the powers of manifestation and everything clicked in to place. He knew exactly who she was.
‘Ollie! So great to see you again. As I’ve said before, Ollie and I go way back…’
Really? That was news to him. The truth was that he’d never actually met this woman in his life. But then, this wasn’t unusual in these days of fame-hungry social media personalities who were… what was the Gen Z name for it? Clout chasing. That was it.
‘…And I have actually worked with the students at the academy and, wow, I have to say, there’s so much talent there – both in the students and coaching staff.’
Ollie decided to ignore the inflated statements at the beginning of the intro and go along with the praise for what his mum had created here.
‘There definitely is. I could not be prouder of the work that’s done here and no doubt there are some stars in the making.’
‘And tell me something… Since your divorce from Sienna Montgomery, there’s been so much speculation about your private life and relationship status. Can you let us in on the secret? Is Scotland’s most eligible man seeing anyone at the moment?’ She was teasing, almost playful as she asked the question and it struck Ollie that this was just a game in the world of social media. Clicks. Monetisation. Followers. And it wasn’t a game he was willing to play, especially not today.
‘Well, I think I’ll keep that to myself. I learned my lesson after my last relationship was such a high-profile disaster. I think there may be one or two people still talking about it,’ he said, his acting chops coming into play to cover his irritation with a Brad-Pitt-esque bashful shrug and easy grin. That would need to do.
‘Just one more thing, Ollie,’ she said, the whole intimate, flirtation act still going. Obviously that was her angle here.
‘At the core of my belief system is the absolute faith that manifestation brings you everything you want in life. Tell me, what are you manifesting right now?’
What was he manifesting? It wasn’t something he’d ever focused on. But if he did?
He wanted the Academy to be successful and find the funding to operate independently, so that its future was secure, with or without him.
He wanted Netflix to renew the documentary for a second series in order to facilitate the previous point.
He wanted the students to shine and to go on to achieve their dreams.
And for himself? He just wanted Stevie Dixon to stroll along that red carpet right now and tell him that she wanted him enough to tolerate this life.
That’s when he spotted that Ginny Canavan – not Stevie – was walking towards him.
And she didn’t look like she was bringing good news.
22
NETTA
It had taken Netta a minute to recognise the woman who was looking back at her in Jessie’s mirror.
‘Well, ma love, what do you think?’ Jessie beamed at her. ‘And don’t say that red lippy is too much, because I’ll not hear of it.’
Was it too much? Netta knew the answer was yes. Definitely. Absolutely. But that was why she bloody loved it. As for the rest of the miracle Jessie had performed in the last forty-five minutes? Netta’s silver-grey hair had been pulled out of its bun, and Jessie had sprayed it with things Netta had never even heard of. Texture spray. Volume enhancers. It had been blown into a lovely sweeping bob and then… who’d have even known these existed… she’d gone in with a little brush that added a pale blonde shade to the strands of hair around her face. Then, afterwards, Georgie had come back in and added a bit of make-up, including some powder with magical properties that balanced out her skin tone, a bit of blush, mascara and the vibrant red lip.
The result was a rewind button that catapulted her back at least ten years and Netta felt a strange surge of emotion that it took her a minute to recognise – it was joy. Excitement. And it came with an urge to giggle, which was something else that had been missing for far too long in her life.
‘It’s fabulous,’ Netta told them. ‘To be honest, I could shed a tear, if I wasn’t too determined not to spoil this make-up. I can’t thank you enough, ladies, I really can’t. This was a treat I never knew I needed.’
Jessie began tidying up her tools as she spoke. ‘You know, Netta, you can come over to the salon any time for a wee pamper. We’re over in Weirbridge…’
‘Oh.’ Netta paused. ‘I met a lady from Weirbridge this morning.’ She decided not to add that she was there because her late husband was buried next to his parents in that very same village. Netta had been there perhaps a handful of times in her life, but she’d never gone further than the cemetery. ‘Nancy Jenkins was her name.’
Jessie had put her hands on her hips. ‘You did not! Och, Nancy is one of our regulars. There you are then. Moira comes in every week, and Nancy is in once a month for a trim and a blow-dry, so you’ll have two friendly faces already.’
‘Oh, and I’ve told Ollie and Moira that I’m kidnapping you and taking you home with me. I hope that’s okay?’ Georgie added, making Netta laugh.
‘I’ll come willingly if pampers like this are thrown in.’
