Confessions of a Shopaholic

“Zelda!” exclaims Elisabeth, getting to her feet. “How have you been, my darling?” She holds out her arms, and Zelda stares at her.

“I’m sorry,” she says, “have we—” She stops as her gaze falls on my copy of Blood Red Sunset. “Oh yes, that’s right. Elisabeth Plover. One of the researchers will be down for you in a minute. Meanwhile, do help yourself to coffee.” She flashes her a smile, then turns to me. “Rebecca, are you ready?”

“Yes!” I say eagerly, leaping up from my chair. (I have to admit, I feel quite flattered that Zelda’s come down to get me herself. I mean, she obviously doesn’t come down for everyone.)

“Great to meet you,” says Zelda, shaking my hand. “Great to have you on the show. Now, as usual, we’re completely frantic — so if it’s OK by you, I thought we’d just head straight off to hair and makeup and we can talk on the way.”

“Absolutely,” I say, trying not to sound too excited. “Good idea.”

Hair and makeup! This is so cool!

“There’s been a slight change of plan which I need to fill you in on,” says Zelda. “Nothing to worry about. . Any word from Bella yet?” she adds to the receptionist.

The receptionist shakes her head, and Zelda mutters something which sounds like “Stupid cow.”

“OK, let’s go,” she says, heading off toward a pair of swing doors. “I’m afraid it’s even more crazy than usual today. One of our regulars has let us down, so we’re searching for a replacement, and there’s been an accident in the kitchen. .” She pushes through the swing doors and now we’re striding along a green-carpeted corridor buzzing with people. “Plus, we’ve got Heaven Sent 7 in today,” she adds over her shoulder. “Which means the switchboard gets jammed with fans calling in, and we have to find dressing room space for seven enormous egos.”

“Right,” I say nonchalantly. But underneath I’m jumping with excitement. Heaven Sent 7? But I mean. . they’re really famous! And I’m appearing on the same show as them! I mean — I’ll get to meet them and everything, won’t I? Maybe we’ll all go out for a drink afterward and become really good friends. They’re all a bit younger than me, but that won’t matter. I’ll be like their older sister.

Or maybe I’ll go out with one of them! God, yes. That nice one with the dark hair. Nathan. (Or is it Ethan? Whatever he’s called.) He’ll catch my eye after the show and quietly ask me out to dinner without the others. We’ll go to some tiny little restaurant, and at first it’ll be all quiet and discreet, but then the press will find out and we’ll become one of those really famous couples who go to premieres all the time. And I’ll wear. .

“OK, here we are,” says Zelda, and I look up dazedly.

We’re standing in the doorway of a room lined with mirrors and spotlights. Three people are sitting in chairs in front of the mirrors, wearing capes and having makeup applied by trendy-looking girls in jeans; another is having her hair blow-dried. Music is playing in the background, there’s a friendly level of chatter, and in the air are the mingled scents of hair spray, face powder, and coffee.

It’s basically my idea of heaven.

“So,” says Zelda, leading me toward a girl with red hair. “Chloe will do your makeup, and then we’ll pop you along to wardrobe. OK?”

“Fine,” I say, my eyes widening as I take in Chloe’s collection of makeup. There’s about a zillion brushes, pots, and tubes littered over the counter in front of us, all really good brands like Chanel and MAC.

“Now, about your slot,” continues Zelda as I sit down on a swivel chair. “As I say, we’ve gone for a rather different format from the one we talked about previously. .”

“Zelda!” comes a man’s voice from outside. “Bella’s on the line for you!”

“Oh shit,” says Zelda. “Look, Rebecca, I’ve got to go and take this call, but I’ll come back as soon as I can. OK?”

“Fine!” I say happily, as Chloe drapes a cape round me and pulls my hair back into a wide towel band. In the background, the radio’s playing my favorite song by Lenny Kravitz.

“I’ll just cleanse and tone, and then give you a base,” says Chloe. “If you could shut your eyes. .”

I close my eyes and, after a few seconds, feel a cool, creamy liquid being massaged into my face. It’s the most delicious sensation in the world. I could sit here all day.

“So,” says Chloe after a while. “What are you on the show for?”