Debutantes Don’t Date (28 page)

‘How do you do?’ I said in a controlled voice, and held out my hand.

‘Oh, erm, good, thanks.’ She grinned and grasped my fingers, pumping them up and down.
‘I’m Roxy—the production assistant. We spoke on the phone yesterday.’

Stomach twisting, I nodded. What if, face-to-face, my pretend accent sounded weird?
But then, after all this time living with Abbey, I stood as good a chance as anyone
of mimicking a posh voice.

‘We’d better get a move on,’ she continued, speaking at top-speed. ‘The TV crews at
Applebridge Hall are on standby. My boss, Gaynor, the director, hates it if people
are late. Footage of your arrival will have to be edited, ready for screening on tomorrow’s
Sunday night show.’ She grinned. ‘Welcome aboard the roller coaster that is
Million Dollar Mansion
!’

She lugged my case over to the car boot. I’d never met anyone who spoke so fast.
A chauffeur in a smart cap and suit got out and opened the door for me. The only time
I’d seen anyone dressed like that was at a mate’s hen night, but trusted (nay, prayed!)
this old codger wouldn’t perform a striptease.

While Roxy got in around the other side, I concentrated hard to get into the car just
right. The rules were… legs first, knees closed at all times… Phew. Job done. No knickers
flashed.

The door closed behind me. I looked to my left and smiled at Roxy. She ended a phone
call as the chauffeur loaded my luggage, got in and we pulled away.

‘When was the last time you visited Applebridge Hall?’ she asked warmly, while scribbling
notes.

‘Only last year,’ I said, chest feeling all tight. I wasn’t used to telling such bare-faced
lies and in my mind frantically went over what Lady C called my ‘remit’ – a mega fancy
word for the task I’ve been given, namely pretending to be one of a happy Croxley
clan. In an email to Abbey, Lord Edward said she should act as if the family often
met up. All members of staff would play along, as the future of Applebridge Hall –
and their jobs – depended on it.

‘Recently, I’ve been terribly busy in catering and am so looking forward to taking
time out to visit my uncle again. I’d be interested to know the arrangements for when
I arrive,’ I continued, articulating every word as if I was the Speaking Clock.

‘Quite a, erm, character, isn’t he, the Earl?’ she said and glanced sideways at me.

Really? I was dying to probe her further but another of Lady C’s rules was never to
appear over-familiar.

‘Although Lord Edward’s not half-bad.’ She winked. ‘Definite eye-candy for the girls.’

‘I wouldn’t know about that,’ I said stiffly. Uncomfortable as it was, good old English
reserve was useful if stuck for words.

Roxy rummaged in her jeans pocket and pulled out some fruit pastilles. She held out
the packet. ‘I never have time to eat these days – fancy sharing my breakfast?’

‘That’s very kind, but no, thank you,’ I said, remembering what Lady C said about
never eating on the go. On the other hand, I didn’t want to offend her…

‘What a, um, charming bracelet,’ I said and pointed to her wrist.

‘Oh, ta.’ She grinned. ‘My fiancé gave it to me.’

‘Fiancé? Oh, of course, I didn’t see the ring.’ It was no Elizabeth Taylor rock, but,
nevertheless, a mega diamond to me. ‘Amaaaaazin’,’ I cooed. Oops. I caught Roxy’s
eye. Her lip twitched. We giggled and then quickly I recovered my stuffy act. ‘My
flatmate… that’s um, one of her words,’ I said. ‘Occasionally, I pick up these things.’

Roxy examined her wedding finger. ‘My boyfriend proposed in New York. Although I don’t
suppose this compares to the huge pendants and tiaras you’ve grown up with.’

‘The, um, setting is utterly exquisite,’ I said. ‘It’s a ring I’d be proud to wear.’

Roxy eyes crinkled at the corners. She held up her clipboard and flicked through the
paperwork quick-smart. ‘The arrangements, let’s see… Late morning arrival – greetings
with family and staff. Then you’ll have a little private time before, at one o’clock,
your uncle and cousin make a special announcement.’

‘What about?’ I said.

‘The business idea they’ve come up with, to save Applebridge Hall. Lord Edward has
been hinting about it on his blog.’ She grinned. ‘Gaynor had to work on him for ages
before he’d agree to spill his thoughts and feelings on-line. But, to be fair, he’s
gone for it with gusto and is determined it’ll attract more fans and contribute to
Applebridge Hall’s success.’

Ah, yes – Edward’s E-diary. Last night Lady C and I had taken a peek. His tone sounded
a bit old-fashioned but, to my surprise, he seemed mega friendly towards the blog-readers.

‘And this announcement…?’ I said airily.

Roxy’s eyes twinkled. ‘Don’t you know anything about it?’

‘No. Cousin Edward, he, um, wanted it to be a surprise.’ Better not mention the coffee
shop, seeing as other people didn’t know yet.

She shrugged. ‘Even the crew and I don’t know for sure. We’ve only just returned to
the properties, since the preliminary rounds.’ Roxy consulted her clipboard again.
‘Tonight, at seven, you’ll be having dinner…’ She shot me a look. ‘Look, can I give
you a tip, Abigail? Woman to woman?’

‘Do call me Abbey,’ I said and squished back into the comfy seat. Thank God these
media types didn’t stand on ceremony. In fact, so far, so bloomin’ good. My false
accent hadn’t been rumbled. This speaking malarkey was manageable as long as I gave
it more Toff than
TOWIE
.

‘Abbey—you seem pretty down-to-earth. If you really want your family to win…’ She
threw her hands into the air. ‘For God’s sake, sex things up!’

‘I beg your pardon?’ I said in my best plummy voice. Ooh, it was hard not to laugh,
but Abbey would have certainly cringed at the S word. Not that she was a prude, but
once I’d read out a chapter of
Fifty Shades of Grey
– her eyes bulged so much, I thought she was going to croak and search for a lily
pad.

‘No offence meant,’ she said and shoved another pastille in her mouth. ‘It’s just
that word’s out that the Baron of Marwick has something wild planned for this evening.
In contrast to your uncle, whose idea of an entertaining Saturday night is sharing
good food with friends… That’s fine for an earl pushing eighty, but your average reality
show viewer wants arguments, intrigue or, even better, nudity.’

‘Yes, last year’s
Big Brother
was jolly good,’ I said. ‘Um, so my flatmate told me.’

‘She’s right – viewing figures topped ten million. One of the housemates got pregnant
and the police had to break in and stop a brawl.’

I put on a shocked voice. ‘How dreadful.’

Roxy stopped chewing for a moment. ‘As you probably know, your uncle is a bit camera-shy.
But, to stand any chance of winning, he’s got to wake up to the fact that
Million Dollar Mansion
is more than a posh version of
Come Dine With Me
. Marwick Castle is a strong contender – the Baron is media savvy and doesn’t much
care what he has to do to pull in votes.’ Roxy took out another sweet. ‘To be honest,
the production team was amazed Applebridge Hall got this far, and can only put it
down to your hunky cousin appealing to female viewers.’ She cleared her throat. ‘Not
that you heard any of this from me.’

‘You can trust me,’ I said, concentrating now. ‘Thanks awfully, Roxy. I’ll do what
I can. Your input’s appreciated.’

As we turned off the motorway and stopped at traffic lights, she consulted her watch.
‘We’ll be there before you know it, so here are a few tips. Try to act natural in
front of the cameras—as if us TV folk are invisible. There’s me and the director,
Gaynor, various camera operators and sound guys, some set up in the house. Others
will follow you Croxleys around the estate doing your daily business. Just consider
us part of the scenery, the fittings and fixtures – discreet, unthreatening.’ Roxy
gave a wide smile. ‘There’s nothing to worry about. And you look fab – those shoes
are to die for…’ Her smile broadened. ‘The viewers are going to love you.’

My stomach relaxed. Perhaps I’d been worrying about nothing, I thought, as we overtook
a tractor on the dual carriageway and I took in the quaint countryside.

‘How many episodes will be broadcast each week?’ I asked eventually.

‘Three – Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday, at eight p.m. sharp, with the Live Final –
a special Saturday show, on the fifteenth, two weeks from today. Cameramen have spent
the last five days at both locations, filming a fresh load of stock shots – you know,
house exteriors, the grounds…’ Roxy smiled. ‘Don’t be nervous, Abbey. I can tell that
you’re really photogenic.’

If only my appearance was the main concern, now. The mega hard part would be keeping
my act up from sunrise to sunset, with all those TV people around.

Roxy texted madly on her phone for a while until, about twenty minutes later, a car
cut in front of us, just as we turned into a road welcoming us to Applebridge. The
chauffeur braked and Roxy’s clipboard fell on the floor. I collected up the papers
as the driver sped up once more.

‘Thanks,’ mouthed Roxy, who was now on the phone to Gaynor. I gazed out of the window
again. Wow. What a tiny village. At a first glance, there was nothing in Applebridge,
apart from a post office, corner shop and pub called The Green Acorn – although the
place was famous for staging a rock festival on some of the Earl’s land every summer.
According to Lady C, that was at least one source of income for Abbey’s uncle.

I swallowed hard. Not long now to meeting my flatmate’s posh relatives and potentially
being discovered, on camera, as a fraud. To distract myself, I glanced at Roxy’s papers
and a list of everyone who’d be filmed at Applebridge Hall. With lots of exclamation
marks, the names had been divided into two categories: ‘Above’ and ‘Below’ stairs.

I gazed at a photo of sharp-eyed Kathleen, the Scottish cook and housekeeper, and
the estate manager, Mr Thompson, with a Sherlock Holmes style hat and hunting gun.
Then there was a woman in her thirties, wearing cords and a T-shirt – that was Jean,
apparently, the head-gardener. She looked nice. Mmm—her assistant, unshaven Nick,
was about the same age as me. Sexy eyes! Not that I’d be able to get to know him well.
Imagine the scandal if he and I really hit it off.

Roxy ended her call as the car turned into a drive longer than the street I’d grown
up on. We drove past rows of little trees, bearing plump red apples, shinier than
Snow White poisoned ones—when we were small, my brothers and I would have had heaps
of fun playing hide and seek amongst them. Downhill to the right as the orchards fell
behind us, was a pond with tall grasses and bulrushes on the nearside. Even the ducks
were a fancy type, with purple chests and red bills.

My throat felt funny. I felt sick. How could I ever have thought this would work?
What if the Croxleys saw straight through me? Perhaps they’d laugh at my choice of
words or sneer at the way I walked. Or perhaps they’d be over-the-top friendly and
I’d feel even worse about fooling them. Either way, I didn’t belong here. Urgh! Deep
breaths. Focus, Gemma. You can do this. Think of the positives – it’s lush; what an
amazin’ place to be a gardener.

Mmm, yes, talking of gardeners and that photo of Nick, with his short dark hair and
eyes, all twinkly…

Oh My God! Forget the nerves for a moment—I’d just thought of an awesome way to sex
up Applebridge Hall! That’s what Roxy said I needed to do, right? It was my duty.
Sorry, Lady C, but I’d have to ignore the last of the three Ms: ‘No Men’. To beat
Marwick Castle, the Croxleys had to keep the viewers glued to their seats and now
I had a wicked plan!

Oblivious to the scene ahead, as the car slowed, I worked hard to suppress a chuckle.
Above and below stairs…The answer to winning was obvious. The nation had to believe
that the Earl’s well-to-do niece and the gardener’s assistant were having a forbidden
secret affair!