And Baby Makes Two - Dyan Sheldon [2]
I lay in the bath with the light out and the candles flickering, and forgot about school and my mother and my dreary, boring life. I rewrote Titanic in my head. Instead of Jack dying in the sea and Rose ending up as an old lady who could hardly walk, they both drifted off on a door and ended up on a deserted island. The water was blue-green and palm trees swayed in a gentle breeze. We ate coconuts and bananas and Jack caught fish with his bare hands. It was paradise. Just the two of us, with no one else to push us around. I closed my eyes and I was making love to Jack on the white sand in the moonlight. Since I’d never been out with anyone, I’d never actually made love, of course, but I’d seen enough films to get the general idea. His kisses were electric. He looked down at me in the cool white shine of the moon. My body glistened with sand.
“You don’t need jewels, Rose,” Jack whispered. “You’re beautiful as you are…”
The moist, full lips, soft as cotton balls moved towards mine.
A sudden furious banging on the bathroom door interrupted our kiss.
I froze with my face in the duck sponge. I hadn’t even heard her come in.
“Lana?” my mother bawled. “Lana, are you going to be out of there soon? I need to go to the toilet.”
I’d blown all my birthday money on a new outfit that was special enough for Planet Hollywood. It was absolutely fabulous. The dress was silky and black, with thin straps dotted with rhinestones and a rhinestone heart on the left breast. I saw Julia Roberts wearing something very similar on a chat show. The dress was so clingy that you couldn’t wear anything underneath except really thin tights. I got silver tights in Sock Shop that were really thin but glittery, though not too glittery. Glittery like Cher would wear, not glittery like Baby Spice. And I bought this black lace jacket to go over the dress.
But the most expensive things I bought were the shoes. They were incredible. They were black and silver, with chunky six-inch heels, thick soles and ankle straps. They were the kind of shoes you’d wear if you were going to the Oscars. The old cow would have a fit if she knew how much I spent on those shoes.
I had some articles I’d cut out of magazines that showed you how to make yourself up like a model. I spread them out on my dressing-table with all my new make-up. Foundation, lipgloss, eye shadow, mascara, eyeliner – I had the lot in the trendiest autumn shades. I teetered in front of the mirror, trying to get my face just right. It’s important to look natural, but more perfect than natural. One of the articles said you should dust a little talc on your lashes to hold the mascara better, but that didn’t work too well. I got powder in my eyes and everything started running. I had to go back to the bathroom to wash it all off and start again.
Charley arrived straight from the garage while I was rubbing fresh Nivea into my skin. The old cow started banging on the door again.
“Lana!” she bellowed. “Lana, Charley needs a shower.”
Knowing Charley, I reckoned what he really needed was dry-cleaning. I personally couldn’t go out with a man who was covered in grease all the time. I was only going to date professionals.
“For God’s sake!” I screamed back. “How am I supposed to get ready when you keep interrupting me?”
I threw the towel at the rack and staggered back to my room. I didn’t have much experience with six-inch heels.
I was just choosing my perfume when she started screaming again.
“For the love of God, Lana! Do you think there’s any chance we’ll get out of the house tonight?”
“I’m coming… I’m coming…” I screamed back. “Just give me a minute, will you?”
I sprayed some Tommy Girl on my pulse points, put on my lace jacket, and studied myself in the mirror. I was knockout. Really knockout. I looked at least twenty. A twenty-year-old model, that’s what I looked like.
I gave my reflection