If the Shoe Fits (9 page)

“Which one?” asked Eleanor hoarsely. “The scraps of red stuff, or the blue stringy thing?”

“The blue,” said Jenni. “Lucky thing, I'm stuck with the white sets.”

“Do you want to swap?” asked Eleanor hopefully. Jenni's selection of lingerie looked like they had far more material on them. “I think this lot is the wrong size,” she added, lifting up her pile of underwear.

“No, they're your size. Jake had to get them in at the last minute. By the way, how
does
he know your size?”

“He's my best friend, and he comes shopping with me.”

“Oh. Fair enough,” said Jenni, shrugging. “Anyway, get a move on, Eleanor. Danny'll be here in a minute and he'll want to do your make-up.”

“Oh, that's all right, I won't be needing any. Jake said it was just body shots.”

When Jenni didn't reply, Eleanor felt the back of her neck prickle. She had a bad feeling that Jake hadn't been strictly honest with her.

Crap.

Eleanor was ready to run, but then she remembered that Jake could lose the contract, so she took a deep, calming breath and stepped behind the curtain. Shrugging off her coat, she inspected the lingerie that had been given to her.

Close up, they looked even skimpier than she had originally thought. She dumped the red set carelessly on to the floor and held up the blue set. Thongs were thongs, at the end of the day, so that they would be tiny was no surprise, but the bra was something else. Models rarely had big breasts, so it was probable that the designer hadn't thought about the cups, but seeing as these bras were supposed to be for the general public, Eleanor would have thought they would have been a bit more, well, substantial. Biting her lip, she stripped before she could chicken out, and studied herself in the provided mirror.

To be honest, her butt looked good. Eleanor's choice of pants had always been thongs, so she was used to them, and she knew they suited her small bottom. The bra, on the other hand, caused one or two problems. Her breasts had been pushed up to chin level, and owing to the half-sized cups, looked like they were going to burst out at any minute.

“Jake!”

Moments later, the curtain was pulled back and Eleanor yelped, grabbing her coat to cover herself.

“What's the matter?” said Danny.

“Where's Jake? I need Jake.”

“Darling, you're looking a little freaked,” said Danny with concern.

“That's because I
am
freaked! Have you seen what I'm supposed to be wearing?”

“I caught a glimpse, but you covered up so quickly that I didn't get a proper look.”

“It's indecent, Danny! I can't — absolutely can't — go out there looking like this. You need to get Jake. I have to tell him he needs to find someone else.”

Danny dropped his makeup bag on to the floor, and gripped Eleanor by the shoulders.

“You will be fine,” he said sternly. “You can't let him down now; it's too late to find anyone else.”

“Danny, I feel like I'm
naked
!”

“Let me see.”

“No!”

“Sweetie, this is me, Danny. I promise not to laugh, or poke fun, or even so much as snort. And really, if you're going to do this, and I know you will, you're going to need to remove your coat at some point.”

“Fine, I'll show you,” she practically growled. “That doesn't mean I'm going to go through with this, though. And it's only because you're one of my best friends that I'm showing you at all.”

“I know,” soothed Danny. “Now, come on, off with the coat.”

Eleanor muttered under her breath and glared at Danny warningly. She shrugged out of her coat and closed her eyes, wincing.

“Fabulous, darling! Absolutely gorgeous! If I wasn't gay, I'd jump your bones right now.”

“Danny!”

“I'm just saying.”

“Well, don't! Honestly, and you wonder why I don't want to do this?”

“What's wrong with looking hot? Which you do, by the way. Very hot.”

“I look like a tart!”

“Sweetie, it's underwear, you're not meant to look dowdy,” said Danny dryly.

“I don't mean I want to look dowdy at all!” said Eleanor. “Of course it's great to look ‘hot', but not in front of an audience. This sort of thing is strictly for personal viewing only.”

“You look great, stop fussing. Look, let me get Jenni ready for the shoot, and I'll be back to do you, okay?”

“But I'm don't need make-up, Danny. Jake said it was body shots only.”

“Pooh to whatever Jake said,” said Danny, waving his arm around. “You need some sultry make-up to get you in the mood. If you look sexy, you'll
feel
sexy. Your body looks fab, but your face could do with a bit of color.”

Danny grabbed his bag and walked away, leaving Eleanor without any option other than to wait for his return. In the meantime, she put her coat back on, and continued to fret.

• • •

Half an hour later, Eleanor was as still as a statue. Danny had put what felt like three layers of clay on her face, and had straightened her hair to within an inch of its life. She was now sprawled across a makeshift bed and doing her best not to move.

“Sweetie, you're too stiff, loosen up a bit.”

Eleanor glared at Jake, but didn't so much as move an eyebrow.

“Darling, you look like a cardboard cut-out,” said Jake desperately. “Roll your shoulders a bit, get rid of some of those kinks.”

It was all very well for Jake to say “roll your shoulders”, but Eleanor was afraid to move in case she upended her boobs all over the red sheet that was draped so artfully over the bed.

“Ella!”

“All right, all right, I'm moving!”

Eleanor carefully wriggled forward on the bed and flopped an arm over the side.

“That's better, sweetie. Now, if you could just put your other arm above your head for me, that would be great!”

Eleanor muttered darkly to herself, but did as she was asked. Danny and Jenni both gave her a “thumbs up” sign, and Jake started clicking his camera.

“You'd better be shooting below the neck, Jake Morrison, or I swear I'll make you wear this bloody excuse for a bra!”

“Darling, what a fabulous idea! Maybe later though, I'm a tad busy at the mo.”

Eleanor stuck her tongue out and pouted.

Jake put her through her paces for a further half an hour, and then asked her to change into the red bra and thongs while he was shooting Jenni's pictures. The red set wasn't nearly as revealing as the blue set, but still showed far too much flesh for Eleanor's liking. Still, at least there was no danger of a nipple explosion this time, for the red set had been designed with full cups rather than thimbles.

Eleanor went through the second half of her photo session with gritted teeth, but thankfully, nothing terrible happened.

“Honestly, I thought I was going to pop out at any minute,” she said to Jenni, as she changed back into her regular clothes.

“You looked wonderful, Eleanor. And those shoes of yours really added to the whole sexy vibe, too. I wish I could have had your sets of underwear. Then again, I don't have your boobs, so the photos wouldn't have been half as spectacular.”

Eleanor smiled wickedly. Now that it was over with, she was in a much better mood. She could never say that she had enjoyed the whole modeling-next-to-nothing experience, but she supposed it was something to giggle about when she was older.

And after today, Jake owed her a favor. It didn't matter that he had already done her plenty of favors in the past. As far as Eleanor was concerned, flashing your bottom and boobs far outstripped all of them.

Eleanor's good mood lasted for the rest of the day. She had an easier afternoon than normal because, wonder of wonders, Cardiff Mode's computers were actually working for once. Freed from being a human email, Eleanor was able to go through the photos from the shoot with Jake. Seeing herself looking so glamorous was very uplifting, and she even gave her consent for Jake to use her face as well as her body.

“After all, I'm virtually unrecognizable, so it doesn't really matter,” she pointed out.

“I don't think you're unrecognizable at all, Ella. You've always had a pretty face,” said Jake. “All we did today was emphasize your strong points.”

Eleanor couldn't help smiling at her friend's compliments. She had no doubt that Jake was being sincere, but seeing as he was her best friend, she took it all with a pinch of salt. She knew she looked good in the photos, but that was as far as it went.

Somewhat perversely, Eleanor had kept the make-up on after the shoot. The dramatic slant that the eyeliner had added to her eyes, coupled with her — for once — smooth and shiny hair, made her look a little like Cleopatra, and she rather liked the effect.

In truth, she'd been hoping to bump into Charming, but nobody seemed to know where he was.

“Typical!” she muttered to herself, as she left the building later that evening. “When I don't want to see him, he turns up. Now I
want
to see him, he's bloody disappeared!”

Eleanor pouted all the way home. Not even the elderly lady seated on the bus, complete with new smutty novel, raised a smile. By the time she got back to her house, she was feeling rather flat. To top everything else, she had left her fabulous shoes at work, so Muse was probably going to give her grief all night.

As if things weren't bad enough, the phone rang as soon as she stepped through the door. Eleanor threw her bag down and took her coat off, getting tangled in the phone wire as she did so.

“Hello?”

“Eleanor. About time,” said an irritated voice.

“Christie. What do you want?”

Eleanor half-listened to Christie's whiny voice as she finished untangling the phone wire. She offered up a few “mmms” every few seconds, but didn't pay much attention to what her ex-stepmother was saying.

“So, if you could tell Edward that I've sent him my request via my solicitor, that would be great.”

“What?” said Eleanor, the word ‘solicitor' bringing her attention fully back to the conversation.

“My request,” said Christie coldly. “I've had my solicitor put it into writing. Five hundred pounds a month.”

“That's almost twice what you're getting now. Dad can't afford that.”

“He'll need to sell some of his assets, then, won't he?” said Christie sweetly. “Anyway, I just wanted to let you know. I know how Edward sometimes avoids opening his mail. Be sure to tell him to keep an eye out for the letter. My solicitor has provisionally booked a meeting for us on Friday of next week. Edward will need to be there.”

There was a decidedly triumphant “click” as Christie hung up.

“The bitch! Of all the bloody, spiteful, money-grabbing sluts in the world, she has to be the biggest!” fumed Eleanor as she slammed the phone back into the receiver.

“Ella!” cried Muse, who had just sauntered down the stairs.

“Don't you dare tell me to mind my language! Just don't! That bloody woman would make a nun curse!”

“Your ex-stepmother, I presume,” said Muse, sounding a little less disgruntled.

“I'll need to tell my dad,” said Eleanor as she hastily put her coat back on. “I'll go and see him now. This can't wait until Sunday.”

• • •

Edward Gibson, or Teddy, as he preferred to be called, lived on the other side of Cardiff. He had an old Victorian house in the Pontcanna area. His street was a long one, with the residents coming from all walks of life.

There were those, like Teddy, who'd lived there for most of their lives. Some had even been born in the houses. Then there was the student core, who lived in groups large enough to spread the living costs to a more acceptable level. Then there were the more well-to-do types, who had made enough money in the 90s to be able to purchase one of the larger properties that most people in Cardiff could never hope to afford.

Teddy Gibson was well liked by the residents of his neighborhood, mostly because everybody knew that Teddy would help anyone who needed it. Of course, sometimes people tried to take advantage of his generous nature, but Teddy had a good group of close friends who he usually consulted before he parted with any of his money.

Teddy had been a teacher before he had retired, so money, while never exactly plentiful, had rarely been a huge concern for the family while Eleanor was growing up. Her mother had cleaned homes for the “posh folk” on Cathedral Road while Eleanor attended school, and between them, Eleanor's mum and dad usually had enough to pay the bills, stock the fridge, and have a little left over for Saturday trips to the cinema.

When Eleanor's mum had died, Teddy had retired. What with various pensions, plus cash from Mrs. Gibson's life insurance, life would have gone on more or less the same as it had always done. There was no need for Teddy to work, and Eleanor had a part-time job to supplement the traditional weekend excursions.

A month after Mrs. Gibson's death, everything changed. Teddy had always been a lover of horse racing, and usually placed a few small bets almost every weekend. He never spent a great deal, but he liked to have what he called his “weekly flutter.” Over the years, he had broken mostly even, but one day, when sadness at his wife's recent death had made him a little careless, he'd bet £200 on an outsider. Eleanor knew he'd done some sort of accumulator, but having never understood the racing lingo, she'd never really grasped what happened that day. All she knew was that her father had gone out with a large sum of money, and came home with an even larger amount.

A windfall of just over three hundred thousand pounds was enough to change everything. The mortgage on the house was paid off, a new car was purchased, several thousand pounds was invested, and the remaining cash used to send Teddy on the holiday of a lifetime.