Miss Manners (16 page)

The last time I had a gobstopper
, I was about ten years old. After about five minutes of sucking it, it completely lost its flavour, so I was left with a massive tasteless white ball in my mouth (innocent thoughts, please) timing how long it took for it to disappear.

As Eve handed a gobstopper to each of us, Pinkie and Genevieve looked as if they wanted to attack each other with them. Genevieve
glared bug-eyed at Pinkie, and Pinkie glared bug-eyed back until she realised it was creasing her forehead, at which point she stopped and smoothed it down with a manicured hand.

‘
Now,’ Eve continued, ‘I want you to pop the gobstoppers in your mouth and repeat the exercise.’

I felt the dribble on my chin as I parroted the sentence once again, slobbering like an institutionalised puppy.

‘You see, already your diction and pronunciation sound so much better.’

Around half an hour later, everyone was beginning to look like depressed parrots and the gobstopper
had started to taste like wet socks.

‘
For the next exercise, let us move on to L words:

“Lucy lingered, looking longingly for her lost lapdog.”’

As my face contorted in agony, I felt like Jim Carrey in
Ace Ventura
. I was hungry, bored and frustrated and beginning to regret ever entering Miss Manners at all. But then I noticed Pinkie glaring at me witchily with her beady little eyes and I felt motivated once again.

If she can do it, I can do it
, I chanted to myself.

The rest of the girls all looked mentally unstable, as if they
’d just been fed a calming tablet at a mental asylum. I couldn’t help but wonder what they’d do if a video of their diction exercises was leaked on YouTube.

‘
Now for the S words,’ Eve continued.

‘“A skunk sat on a stump and thought the stump stunk but the stump thought the skunk stunk.”’

ARRGGHH, just hurry up and get to the V words already!

All this posh banter was really starting to make my jaw ache and my brain hurt. I was beginning to feel like a robot, to the point where I was starting to feel sleepy.

Eve walked towards me with intent then unexpectedly clapped her hands, which scared me half to death. ‘Phoenix, will you please stop daydreaming and concentrate. There are only two and a half days until the Miss Manners contest, which is no time at all.’

Pinkie and a few other girls who thought they
’d been spun out of gold sniggered. She pushed her hand into her mane of tawny extensions.

Once we
’d finally completed all the exercises, Eve stepped a little further towards me, invading so much of my space someone should have called NATO.

‘
And if you want your accent to go from SE1 to SW1 by Saturday, then I’m afraid practice makes perfect,’ Eve crooned. Then she faced the group. ‘So, I have compiled a list I would like you all to practise all day, every day, everywhere: in front of the mirror, in your bed and even in the lavatory.’

Eve looked at the girls
’ jaw-broken faces, then said, ‘You may now discard your gobstoppers in the waste bin.’

After slurping and swallowing for almost
two hours (oh, stop it, you filthy animal), the girls all rushed over to the bin and spat out their gobstoppers. The relief on their faces reminded me of going to the toilet after drinking three litres of water.

I didn
’t really mind the gobstopper so much anymore. In fact, although frazzled and eroded, my mouth felt a bit empty without it, like the day I had my braces removed.

‘
Right,’ Eve said, clapping, ‘now it’s time to look at intonation. And I have
just
the exercise for you. So, here it is.’ Eve walked over to the centre of the room, closed her eyes, breathed in, then exhaled.

‘“Don’t go swimming in the Jordan, Gordon,

on
the holy Sabbath of the peaceful day.

For you
’ll never get to heaven, Gordon McPherson,

and
speaking purely as a private person.

That
’ll be the day, that’ll be the day, that’ll be the day... for me.”’

As we recited the sentence, we were instructed to walk around the room clockwise, clapping once after the first and second, ‘That’ll be the day’, then twice after the last one. And there I was thinking Shakespeare class at university was bad. I really didn’t have a clue back then.

‘
Now, I want you to become aware of the fluctuations in your voice as you articulate it,’ Eve said, her hands imitating sea waves. ‘Up, down, up, down, up, down...’

A while later, Eve applauded, asked us to take our seats, then stood to face us.
‘Wonderful, girls. Simply wonderful,’ she sang.

‘
Thank you, Eve. What an enlightening lesson,’ Brie announced, her lips twitching in satisfaction. ‘Now, for our final lesson today, I would like to hand you over to Margaret Upton, chairman of the Queen’s English Society.’

The Queen
’s English Society? Nowadays, there seemed to be a society for just about everything. I’ve heard there’s even a World Toilet Appreciation Society. Seriously, what is the world coming to?

Margaret
, a pearled-up, bottle-nosed woman in her sixties, who reminded me of the Gruffalo, wore a red tartan suit. She turned to face the group, gurning like a gurning champion.

‘
Good afternoon, girls,’ Margaret breathed. ‘Now, the aim of the Queen’s English Society is to preserve the English language, which slang is putting at risk. Although a few individuals believe that slang enriches the English language, we, however, do not. It isn’t evolution. It’s devolution.’

Margaret
frowned, which pronounced the prominent wrinkles on her forehead. ‘We shall now examine grammar and vocabulary. It is important to realise that if your grammar and vocabulary are used incorrectly, then it doesn’t matter how well-spoken or intelligent you are. It is a great giveaway to ill-breeding. So, say goodbye to split infinitives and hello to grammar. Any questions before we begin?’

Oh my, what would all the slangologists say?

Margaret proceeded towards the whiteboard, uncapping a board marker. ‘There are three things you must remember: one, speak properly; two, no slang; and three, no cursing.’ Once she’d listed all the points on the whiteboard, she picked up a pile of paper.

‘
I have a set of worksheets containing the most common grammatical errors as well as a selection of words from the
Queen’s English Dictionary
, which you will be able to implement in conversation. You will also find a few French words, which you can occasionally drop in. For instance, calling somebody
“chéri”
instead of “darling”.’

‘
C’est bien, parce que je suis française, non?’
Genevieve pouted, running her hand through her long, dark hair.

Pinkie huffed, her eyes popping at Genevieve in contempt.
‘Well, in that case, I’m sure you’ll be able to understand the term “faux pas” then, won’t you?’

Pinkie and Genevieve exchanged an animalistic look
, as if they were about to pounce on each other and rip out each other’s hair extensions.

‘
Enough, girls!’ Margaret clapped her hands wildly, shouting as attractively as possible in keeping with her principles. ‘Arguing is extremely unattractive. I don’t care how much of a celebrity either of you think you are, you obviously both have a lot to learn in the manners department. And, if you don’t sort yourselves out right this instant, then I will be left with no option but to disqualify you.’

Margaret
turned to address everyone. ‘Look, if you want to become an accomplished socialite, then you must avoid controversy and scandals at all costs. Be respectable, mind your morals and stay cool and collected even when you’re raging mad.’

If I had controlled my temper with Pinkie, then I would probably still have a job, money and a car right now
, I thought miserably.

It had been a long, disastrous day
that seemed to have no intention of ending. After academy lessons, I received a call from Murphy.

‘
Phoenix?’ Murphy breathed.

‘
You lied to me!’ I shouted, finding it somewhat difficult to contain my anger. ‘You planned the whole thing, didn’t you?’

‘
Look, I understand you must be rather upset right now,’ he pleaded. ‘But, let me explain–’

‘
I was humiliated,’ I interrupted. ‘I can’t believe you told Pinkie you had
my
table reserved for
her
at the Tea Garden! You totally set me up!’

‘
Look, I apologise. But you should understand that press coverage is all part of the package. You became public property the moment you signed up as a Miss Manners contestant. The story was simply a way of breaking you in to the media. It’s my job to generate reader interest in you as a brand. And it worked. The story even featured on today’s
This Morning
and
Loose Women
.’

I stopped in my tracks. I couldn
’t believe it. I never thought the story would snowball into television coverage as well. Come on, didn’t they have anything more important to talk about, like war and poverty?

‘
What!?’ I screeched, slightly dazed.

‘
And the press want more pictures... of YOU! So, I’ve arranged paparazzi to photograph you outside The Dorchester tomorrow.’

‘
WHAT?!’ I was completely lost for words. Why would anyone be interested in reading anything about me? What about the other ten contestants (excluding Pinkie and Genevieve), who genuinely wanted to become socialites?

‘
But, of course, you’ll need to wear stylish clothes. From now on, everything you wear in public should be designer.’

‘
But I don’t have designer.’

‘
Then you’d better find a way to beg, blag and borrow designer by tomorrow.’

The phone went dead.

Not only did I have to walk the walk and talk the talk – I also had to look the look. There was only one person for it.

17

Beg, Blag
and Borrow

‘
Danko,’ I breathed, sauntering into the
Couture
closet. ‘I need your help.’

Danko stopped hanging the latest
spring/summer clothes on the rails, then swivelled to face me with a warm smile. ‘Of course, darling. Anything.’

‘
I desperately need to borrow some clothes to wear. I already have a friend designing a few pieces for the evening – it’s really daytime wear I’m worried about. It’s just that Murphy needs to get pictures in the press. And, apparently, it’s not a good look to be photographed unless I’m wearing designer gear. And I don’t have any designer clothes in my closet.’

Danko looked at me for a moment, then smiled.
‘Ah, yes. Street chic. Of course,
chérie
, as long as you take good care of them and remember to bring them back before noon on Saturday, which is when we have a
Couture
shoot for the next issue.’ He headed towards the clothes rails, rummaged about, then picked out several outfits. ‘Yes, I have just the thing for you. Here, try these on.’

Sure enough, I ended up squeezing into about
ten outfits. Some got nods of approval, but most didn’t. I ended up with a final selection of three gorgeous outfits.

‘
For your first outfit, I’ve teamed a Jean-Pierre Braganza dress with Prada shoes and a Comme des Garçons bag. For your second outfit, a Gerard Darel Monroe cable-knit jumper, Houlihan jeans, Irregular Choice ankle boots and a French Connection cape. And, for the final outfit, an Anna Sui twenties-inspired flapper dress and a pair of Topshop Mary Janes.’ Danko looked at me expectantly, his eyes wide with excitement.

‘
Wow! They’re beautiful! But I don’t know if I can get away with wearing them.’

‘
What are you talking about, girl? Of course you can! You’re going to knock them dead. And remember, you’re wearing these before we even publish them in
Couture
.’ Danko placed the outfits into a
Couture
carrier, then handed it over to me. ‘Here you go. Just remember to bring them back on Saturday at noon. Undamaged.’

‘
Thank you so much, Danko!’ I ran over to hug him. ‘You’re a lifesaver!’

Danko
beamed like a ray of sunshine. ‘Anytime.’

I couldn
’t believe it. I felt like an eight-year-old on Christmas day. I couldn’t wait to get home and show Tara and Felicity. I’d never really been into fashion before, probably because I couldn’t afford it. But now I felt like a brand new person. Goodbye drab, soulless Anna Borgström. Hello fashionable, sophisticated Phoenix Valentine.

Once I
’d arrived home at around eight-ish, I found Felicity slaving away at the sewing machine surrounded by all sorts of materials.

‘
Hey, Anna. Where’ve you been these days?’ Felicity asked, folding a piece of material she was working on. ‘I hardly ever see you.’

‘
I know, I’m sorry. It’s just been so hectic the last few days. Now I have a
new, busy, exciting
life.’ I looked around for Tara, but couldn’t see her anywhere. ‘Where’s Tara?’

‘
At work,’ Felicity said, puzzled. ‘She works nights on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. Remember?’

I had totally forgotten. In fact, I realised I hadn
’t spoken to Tara properly since the start of the academy. I was so caught up in the moment that I hadn’t bothered to make time for those who mattered most. I was being such a bad friend lately.

‘
Tara tried to call you a few times, but you weren’t answering your phone,’ Felicity continued.

I checked my phone and realised I had about
eight missed calls from Mum, five from Tara, three from Felicity and one from Henry.

‘
She must think I’m ignoring her,’ I sighed. ‘Is she okay?’

‘
Yeah, she’s fine. She just missed you, that’s all,’ Felicity explained.

I smiled, thinking how lucky I was to have such an incredible friend. I owed Tara so much. Whenever I was sick, she
’d always bring Cup a Soup to me in bed and cheer me up with one of her little Bollywood dances. Or, if I was feeling low, she’d write a bunch of inspiring quotes, then stick them around the house to lift my spirits.

We had a noticeboard in our hallway on which we left messages for each other. These used to be
‘Can you lend me a tenner?’ or ‘You smell’. But recently, Tara had discovered she was a master in positive thinking and now left me daily motivational messages, like ‘Believe in yourself’.

‘
Why don’t we go out tomorrow for a drink after the academy?’ Felicity asked.

I thought for a moment,
then remembered the dinner. ‘I’d love to, but I can’t. We’re having a Miss Manners dinner at Alain Ducasse at The Dorchester.’

‘
Ooh, the dinner! I have just the outfit for you,’ Felicity beamed, running over to a clothes pile and picking out a bundle. ‘Remember the Jean Patou inspired gown, the Aphrodite? Well, here it is.’

Felicity held up the most beautiful dress I had ever seen.
The luxurious white silk I had held had been transformed into a gorgeous column dress, teamed with a gold belt at waist level.

‘
Wow! That looks amazing! How long did that take you to make?’ I felt my eyes bulge out of my eye sockets and my mouth drop open.

‘
Oh, about three days,’ Felicity said with a smile, despite the fact that she must have been extremely exhausted. ‘Here, try it on,’ she said, handing me the dress.

I couldn
’t believe how talented Felicity was. She not only deserved to
win
the Alexander McQueen Award, but to have her own fashion label, too. I squealed excitedly at Felicity, then ran into the bedroom and slipped it on.

I looked in the full-
length mirror and couldn’t stop gazing at myself. I looked like a completely different person. I looked... I looked like a lady. Elegant. Sophisticated. Beautiful.

‘
Are you ready yet?’ Felicity called from the living room, snapping me out of my daydream.

As I walked into the living room, Felicity fell silent. She breathed in,
then clapped her hands excitedly. ‘Gorgeous,’ she sang. ‘I’m thinking a sixties bouffant, gold pendant and a pair of my Ralph Lauren gold Grecian heels. What do you think?’

‘
Fi, you are a genius! It has “Felicity Diamond – Award Winning Fashion Designer” written all over it.’

Once I
’d changed back into comfortable clothes, I remembered the designer gear Danko let me borrow.

‘
Oh, you’ll never guess what, Fi,’ I said teasingly. ‘Danko let me borrow three designer outfits until Saturday! And they haven’t even been featured in
Couture
yet!’ I grabbed the bag containing the outfits, and pulled them out one by one.

‘
Jean-Pierre Braganza, Gerard Darel and Anna Sui!’ Felicity widened her eyes, which made her resemble an unfortunate-looking Disney character.

‘
I know. I feel so à la mode!’ I gushed. ‘See how I used a French word there. Does it make me sound like a lady?’ I asked with mock-Jane Austen decorum.

‘
What are you borrowing them for?’

‘
Well, apparently,’ I explained, ‘any photos where I appear in the press will be taken into consideration by the Miss Manners judges. You know, style, posture, blah, blah. So I have to wear the latest designer gear to be in with a chance of winning the contest.’

‘
But I thought
I
was designing your outfits,’ Felicity said, rubbing Gerard Darel between her fingers.

‘
You are,’ I consoled. ‘These are just the outfits I’ll be wearing during the day. You know, in case I get papped again out of the blue.’

Felicity smiled.
‘Well, I can’t wait to see you wearing them. Oh, and I’ve almost finished work on your second outfit!’

‘
Show me, show me!’ I jumped up and down like a fat kid who wants to be picked for the rounders team.

‘
It’s a surprise. I’ll show you on Friday.’

‘
Argh! The anticipation is killing me,’ I said, clenching my fist in frustration.

‘
Oh, I almost forgot,’ Felicity added, perking up. ‘Your blog.’

‘
What about it?’

‘
It’s up for a Bloggie!’ she said.

‘
What’s a Bloggie?’

‘
Blogger’s Choice Award. It’s an award for the best blog. And you’re up for a Best Entertainment Blog. I read it in the
Daily Express
today. Here.’ Felicity opened up a copy of the paper and waved it in front of my face.

Blogstrom Shortlisted for Bloggie

Blogstrom, Miss Manners contestant and author of the popular blog Secret Diary of a Socialite is up for a Blogger’s Choice Award. The ceremony will be held on Saturday.

As the identity of the author has been kept a secret, Pinkie Mortimer has unleashed a new Who Stole Pinkie
’s Diary campaign and is offering a cash reward for anyone who is able to reveal the identity of the blog’s author and the location of the diary.

Blogstrom
, wherever you are, be afraid. Be very afraid.