Read Online The Wedding Countdown by Ruth Saberton - Free Book Online

pressed the button for floor eight. ‘Same for me, please. Floor eight.’
    ‘So,’ he says, ‘you’re a dress designer? Just like Victoria Beckham?’
    ‘Well you know, how it is,’ I decide to play along. Who knows, if the journalism thing doesn’t work out I may well turn my hand at design and become the Rupert Murdoch of the fashion world. ‘If Victoria Beckham started off making bucket loads designing ways to make jeans look slightly different, but really you can’t tell them apart unless you go buy yourself a magnifying glass, why not me?’
    ‘Why not indeed?’
    ‘Just imagine,’ I continue, warming to my theme. ‘There she was, VB, hmm’ing and haa’ing thinking, “how about I use the light blue thread instead of the pale blue or hmm shall I use the sky blue or should I just stick to blue? Oh, who cares? No one’s going to stick my jeans under a microscope to examine the fine detail of a seam. I’ll just call it VB: Sky Blue so I don’t end up having to deal with a mob of angry jeans fanatics demanding I give back their money because I’ve conned them into buying this season’s jeans when last season’s jeans are almost exact replicas. OK, I've made my decision; sky blue it is. That wasn’t a bad day’s work! It’s a good thing I got rid of those hair extensions because all of a sudden I’m thinking more clearly. Time to give David a call and tell him we’ll be having an Indian tonight. Hmm… How about fat-free lettuce curry [without the oil] with five and a half grains of boiled rice and one mango slice for dessert? Mmm, my mouth’s watering. I’d better go and retouch my lip gloss before my golden boy comes home…”’
    I grind to a stop because my companion’s making the oddest sound, a bit like a cross between whale music and a yelp of pain. Then I realise he’s laughing and shaking his head.
    ‘Girlfriend, you are one crazy chick! That’s so funny! I bet that’s exactly what she did!’
    Thank God he’s amused. Talk about opening my big gob and putting my LK Bennetts right in. He could work for the Beckhams for all I know.
    ‘You’re not her stylist are you?’
    ‘Do I look like I’m the Beckhams’ stylist?’ he says, offended. ‘Do I look like the kind of guy who’d wear a floral sarong?’
    ‘Definitely not,’ I fib.
    ‘Thank Christ for that!’ He fans his face theatrically. ‘I was seriously concerned for a moment. I thought I’d have to get Nina to run a makeover feature on me.’
    ‘Nina Singh? You work for GupShup ?’
    ‘I’m not here for my health, angel.’
    ‘I work here too!’ I can hardly contain my excitement. ‘I’m Mills Ali, one of the new interns.’
    ‘Raj Patel,’ he shakes my hand. ‘Senior Graphic Designer. We’ve been expecting you. There’s already a very important job waiting for you.’
    ‘Really?’
    Wow! What will it be? Setting out a fashion spread? Designing the next edition’s front page? Writing the next sensational scoop?
    ‘Yes, really.’ Raj pushes open the heavy glass door. ‘It’s a very important job that we always give our new interns.’
    ‘Cool.’ I say. Raj is clearly bonkers but I want to impress my new colleague with my enthusiasm and willingness to learn. ‘What shall I do?’
    ‘See that kettle?’ Raj points to the sink in the corner of the office. ‘Make us a coffee, darling!’
    I’m taken aback. ‘Why should I make you a coffee?’
    ‘Because,’ smiles Raj, ‘it’s my role to make sure new interns are busy little bees and I’ve strictest orders from the boss to keep you well occupied until she’s out of her editorial meeting. Chop chop with that coffee! I’ve got an absolute mountain of photocopying for you next!’
    And off across the newsroom he shimmies, blowing kisses and shrieking excitedly at people, leaving me standing in the doorway totally and utterly lost for words.
     

Chapter 8
    By half eleven I have RSI from making coffee and photocopying. Raj wasn’t joking when he