Read Online As Good As It Gets? by Fiona Gibson - Free Book Online Page B

take Rosie on.’
    He feigns a crestfallen face. ‘Only Rosie? What about you? I’d have thought they’d have snapped you up!’
    ‘Don’t think so, Rupert,’ I reply, laughing, ‘unless they have a special division for people to model stair lifts, or those easy-care slacks you get in the Sunday supplements.’
    ‘Oh, come on,’ he blusters, grinning fondly and perching on the edge of my desk. In his faded checked shirt and scruffy jumbo cords, he’s actually impossible to dislike. Not bad looking either, although not my type; mid-forties, glinting grey eyes and long, skinny legs, which lend him an endearing foal-like quality. Archie’s is his baby. Realising his own name – Rupert Plunkett-Knowles – was perhaps a little too fancy for something as earthy as crisps (even posh crisps), he named the company after his beloved Golden Retriever.
    I start to update Rupert on our plans for the snacks festival in Bournemouth, which Dee and I are pulling together. Competitions, goodie bags and live cookery demonstrations: Rupert greets our every suggestion with his customary enthusiasm. ‘Sounds excellent!’ he booms as we wrap things up. ‘Anyway, I know you’re heading off early today so I’ll let you get on … sounds like an amazing opportunity for Rosie.’
    ‘Yes, I suppose it is.’ He strides to the window and peers out, as if surveying his kingdom. Rupert and his wife Marcelle have four daughters with flowing blonde manes, like thoroughbred ponies; I have no idea how they manage to hold everything together. ‘Rupert,’ I say hesitantly, ‘what would you do if one of your girls wanted to be a model?’
    He turns and shrugs. ‘I’m fine about whatever they want to do, as long as it makes them happy. How d’you feel about it?’
    I consider this. ‘You know, I think it’s actually okay. It could be a good experience for her, doing the shoots, maybe a bit of travel …’
    ‘You don’t sound completely convinced,’ Dee remarks.
    ‘Well, no. Of course there’s the worry about the pressure to be super-skinny – having a thigh gap and all that … I mean, what’s that all about?’
    ‘Horrible,’ Dee agrees with a shudder.
    I sip my coffee. ‘I don’t think it’s an especially healthy thing – the whole business, I mean – and she’s not madly confident. She pretends she is, but it’s just an act, really. And she still seems so young—’
    ‘But if it doesn’t work out,’ Rupert cuts in, ‘she can just stop, can’t she?’
    I nod, hoping it’s that simple. Giving me a reassuring pat on the arm, he snatches his trilling mobile from his pocket and lollops back downstairs. Dee and I spend the rest of the day finalising plans for the festival and, despite my doubts, I’m starting to feel pretty excited for Rosie as I head downstairs and through the shop, where baskets of new crisp varieties have been set out for testing. Always a dangerous time for me, this, and my favourite work skirt is already feeling a little pinchy on the waist. ‘Go on, try these,’ Freya urges me from behind the counter.
    ‘What are they?’ I ask, hand hovering as I try to resist the urge to snatch one.
    ‘Mature Cheddar and vintage ale.’
    ‘Hmm. Doesn’t seem quite right, eating beer.’ I pop one into my mouth; scrumptious, I decide, heading out to my car, although if truth be known you can’t beat good old salt and vinegar. My phone rings as I start the ignition. ‘Where are you?’ Will barks.
    ‘Just setting off. Don’t worry, there’s plenty of time—’
    ‘It’s just, you need to have a word with Rosie right now .’
    ‘What’s wrong?’
    Will sighs. ‘She came home from school and hid in her room for ages and next thing she’s bloody plastered in make-up …’
    ‘Oh God, she really doesn’t need—’
    ‘And when I mentioned it,’ he interrupts, ‘I mean, I only said, “You’re wearing quite a lot of make-up, Ro”, she started crying and now her eyes are all red and puffy and