On my way back from my morning run in the park, it feels as if someone is pushing a steam roller across my stomach. I can’t keep moving. I have to stop for a break. I rest awhile and find myself staring at the noticeboard pinned to the school gate.
Lunchtime assistant required.
My stomach lurches in hope. They need help to serve the school lunches and help to wash up afterwards, for two hours a day. Fair pay, minimum wage. I re-sat my maths GCSE last year and managed to gain a B. My maths teacher even wrote me a glowing reference to help me get a job. Serving food. Washing up. Nice and simple. I know I’ve not managed to get a job for ages but I could apply for this. Oh yes, I could apply for this job watching over Tamsin. Getting to know her first.
Georgia and I are holding hands, tripping slowly through town, on the way to the agency. Georgia is clutching her weekly treat, her oversized bag of sweets. She chose one of almost everything in the shop, and six white chocolate mice.
My stomach tightens as I think I see Jonah’s car. I haven’t seen him for a while. Much to my relief, ever since I explained my feelings honestly, he hasn’t been waiting for me at the school. He must have accepted my decision. But I have been feeling guilty. A leaden heavy feeling pulling me down.
All the times he has approached me and I have brushed him off successfully – why did I succumb to his advances in the end?
Because of Jamie Westcote. Because of Phillip.
Phillip suggesting my modelling career is drawing to an end, before it’s taken off. Jamie Westcote putting the boot in. The tightening in my stomach becomes painful as I remember what happened between Jonah and me.
For whatever Phillip’s current views about my career, he is the centre of my family, my rock. And I do not want my family life to disintegrate. I feel as if I am suppressing a constant volcano of panic, as if my life as I know it is about to end at any moment. But however awful this feeling is, my behaviour caused it. I am going to ride through it. Live with it until it fades. I will move through it in the end.
What is Jonah doing here now, hovering in the traffic near the agency? Is he on the way to make an architectural visit? I do not want him to wind the window down and talk to me, so I sweep Georgia into my arms and walk around the block to approach the agency from the other direction.
Mimi’s hair is more flamboyant than ever today. Purple and pink and green. A triple-tipped Mohican. More of her head is shaved. Her piercings are multiplying. Georgia sits on my knee, looking at her, transfixed by her chains.
‘The ice-cream photoshoot was a success,’ Mimi says, smiling at me and folding her arms. ‘They’re using the film for an ad in the local cinema, a large still will be up on a bill board by the library.’ There is a pause. ‘Plus the local magazine ad, as was originally discussed.’
‘When will I get my fee?’
‘Soon. Soon. They won’t let you down. I’ll chase it,’ Mimi promises, leaning back in her chair and stretching her legs out in front of her.
‘Now – you’ve been offered another job.’
I lean forwards, keen to listen.
‘It’s to advertise some riding stables in the next county. But you need to be able to ride a horse.’
‘No problem,’ I lie, wondering whether Jonah is still in the vicinity, ‘I learnt when I was a child.’
‘So, Mouse,’ I say as I sink into his sofa, ‘my first job interview in years is over.’ I pause. ‘And I have to tell you I felt sick with nerves.’
‘What happened?’ Mouse asks, standing in front of me, looking down. ‘Your face is flushed; you’re pleased. You’re excited aren’t you?’
The grin I cannot contain widens. ‘Yes. Very. They asked me if I could start as soon as they had done a background check.’
‘Fantastic, Erica.’ He grabs my hands and pulls me to my feet. ‘May I have the pleasure of this dance to celebrate?’
His face is so serious, and his suggestion so flippant, I can’t help but giggle. Frowning, he turns his speakers on and a waltz begins to play. He takes my arms and leads the way. One two three, one two three, one two three. I get in a bit of a muddle and stand on his feet.
‘No. No. No, Erica.’ He shakes his head. ‘Let’s start again.’
He starts the music from the beginning, puts his right arm around my waist and guides me around the room again, leading with his left foot and arm. We manage three times around the room perfectly before I stand on his feet again and we collapse in giggles.
‘No. No. No. Erica, stop laughing. We need to get this right. I am going to make you do it again.’
Because I can’t have you yet, I am only managing to contain myself with help. She opens her bedroom door slowly with a wary smile. Her blue contacts do not compare to the Liz Taylor violet of your eyes. The sultry wig too limp to match your hair. Her face is not yours. But I need this. I step into her room and close the door.
‘Take your dressing gown off,’ I command.
It slips to the floor. She is naked. She moves towards me, and kneels in front of me. She unzips my trousers, pulls my pants down and tries to take my coil of softness in her mouth. I push her head away.
‘No,’ I bark.
She looks up at me, strange blue eyes sad and pleading.
‘What do you want?’ she asks.
‘You know what I want to do to you.’
Her eyes cloud with fear and that turns me on. I feel myself becoming erect. I grab her breasts and twist her nipples so hard she cries in pain. My erection is throbbing now. I grab her by the shoulders and throw her onto the bed. I kick her legs apart and thrust into her dryness. I thrust and thrust. She cries because I am hurting her. I am hurting myself too, but there is a fine line between pleasure and pain, and I am really enjoying this.
Slimming club again, sitting shivering by the electric fire, waiting for the other weight watchers to arrive. Julia, the elfin woman, pointy and ethereal, is standing at the back of the church hall, texting on her iPhone. The others start arriving in dribs and drabs, laughing and chatting, making small talk.