Platinum Coast. Lynne Pemberton

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      ‘It’s glamorous, Christina, when – or should I say if – you get into one of the big agencies in London. My friend Sharon works for Models One. She’s just finished a big calendar shoot with Patrick Lichfield. She went to the Caribbean for three weeks, came back really tanned and got signed up three days later to do another big tropical location shoot for Cosmo.’

      Janine looked down at her distorted feet and then back at Christina.

      ‘Now that’s what I call glamorous modelling.’

      Christina nodded and sighed, ‘I must admit I’ve thought about going to London lots of times, and if I have to do many more jobs like this I’ll be on the next train.’

      Janine pushed the stetson to the back of her head and took a long drag on her cigarette, staring at Christina’s even profile.

      ‘You should go. You’re definitely pretty enough.’

      Christina was about to accept the compliment when the girl went on, ‘I’m stuck here in Manchester whether I like it or not – that is, until my little boy gets older. At least here I can rely on my mum to look after him, and whatever I earn helps.’

      Christina watched Janine stand up and pull on faded 501s and a blue chambray shirt.

      ‘How old is your son?’ Christina asked, and began to pull her own clothes out of a small leather grip.

      ‘Eighteen months.’ Janine hesitated before continuing, ‘He’s only got me, you see. I don’t even know where his father is.’ She shrugged, a resigned look on her pretty face. Picking up a shabby canvas bag, she said brightly, ‘Hope to see you around some time. I’m sure I will.’ She smiled warmly and her big brown eyes twinkled. ‘But take my advice and get yourself up to London. That’s where the real money and glamour are.’

      ‘Maybe I will,’ Christina replied, and waved as she left. She finished dressing, thinking about what the other girl had said. Perhaps it was time for a change, to try her luck in London? What had she to lose after all?

      It was a few minutes after eight and raining heavily when Christina arrived at her small flat in West Didsbury, five miles south of Manchester city centre.

      ‘Susie, I’m home,’ she called as she turned the key in the front door and stepped into the narrow hall of the terraced house’s ground-floor flat. There was no reply. A few moments later she remembered that her flatmate was going out with Nick, her boyfriend, that night.

      Christina was pleased to be alone. She was dog-tired and relieved not to have to listen to Susie’s incessant chatter. She walked into the tiny kitchen, planning to go to bed early with a large glass of white wine, a giant bag of Golden Wonder crisps, and Yuki, her Siamese cat, hopefully to be in a deep sleep before Susie and Nick could arrive back and keep her awake with their noisy lovemaking.

      ‘Shit.’ She slammed the fridge door shut angrily. ‘Thanks, Susie,’ she muttered, thinking how typical it was of her flatmate and the obnoxious Nick to drink the last drop of Christina’s Frascati.

      She poured herself a large gin instead, filled the tumbler with warm tonic, and managed to find half an ice-cube under an out-of-date packet of frozen peas.

      Christina picked up her cat, and carrying her under one arm, the gin and tonic in the other hand, and the bag of crisps held between her teeth, padded towards her bedroom.

      There was a message sellotaped to her bedroom door, penned in Susie’s almost illegible scrawl.

      Kate Mason from your agency rang. She asked if she could give a Mr Stephen Reece-Carlton your telephone number. He was trying to reach you urgently.

       If he is the same Reece-Carlton I think he is, you’ve snared a big one, Chrissy!

       Don’t wait up for me. Nick has been away for a week and is as horny as hell – had to do it before we left the house, so God knows what time I’ll emerge in the morning!

      Sleep tight.

      Susie.

      ‘Stephen Reece-Carlton?’ Christina said the name out loud. ‘Where have I heard that name before?’ she asked herself, and searched her memory whilst peeling off her clothes and hanging them carefully in the small fitted wardrobe.

      She lay on top of the bed in a big baggy nightshirt and took a deep gulp of her gin and tonic. Yuki crept across the bedspread and snuggled close to her. Christina tickled the cat’s tummy, enjoying the softness of her warm coat.

      It was then she remembered where she had seen the name before. Stephen Reece-Carlton was co-owner with Robert Leyton of the Westside Shopping Centre – his name had been mentioned in the Manchester Evening News a couple of weeks ago. Stephen … she remembered Robert Leyton’s behaviour towards the man she had been talking to at the mall. They had obviously been business associates. Pale-green eyes, a strong determined jaw … So that was Stephen Reece-Carlton!

      Maybe this time she would let Kate pass on her number, something she had automatically refused on every occasion before now.

      ‘Christina, you must go out with him. You’re mad if you don’t,’ Susie said between mouthfuls of cornflakes.

      ‘Why must I just because he calls my agency and asks for my private number?’

      ‘Then he calls you ten minutes after he gets the number and asks you out. If that’s not keen, what is?’ Susie cut in.

      ‘I don’t even know the man. Why should I go out with a complete stranger?’ Christina said, and took a sip of tea from a Snoopy mug she was holding.

      Susie scooped up the last of her cornflakes and pointed the spoon in her direction.

      ‘He’s filthy, stinking rich, that’s why.’

      Christina raised her clear brown eyes, ‘I might have known that would be your reaction. For God’s sake, Susie, is that all you can think about? The size of their wallet?’

      Susie pulled a face, considering. ‘The size of their dick?’

      Christina burst out laughing in spite of herself.

      ‘I could get lucky, Susie. He might be blessed in both departments.’

      ‘Then, my girl, you’ve hit the jackpot. Go on, call him back and tell him you’ll see him.’

      ‘I’ve already told him I’m busy next Thursday. I promised to go to Robin’s party and that was the only night Stephen could make it. He lives in London and only comes up here occasionally.’

      Christina looked at Susie, who shook her head in disgust. ‘Robin Hargreaves is the biggest wimp in the entire county – possibly the whole country! Come on, Christina.’

      She agreed with Susie and her voice was lame when she said, ‘But I’ve promised Robin. He’d be so disappointed.’

      Susie ignored her. Standing up from the tiny kitchen table, she walked to the sink and filled the kettle with water to make a fresh cup of tea. She caught sight of herself in a small mirror stuck on the front of the fridge door and groaned.

      ‘God, СКАЧАТЬ