The Vanishing Point

Leanne could take the heat off a bit.’

I could see her point. And my heart did go out to her. Even the most avid publicity hound needed to pull the drawbridge up sometimes. ‘Could Leanne hold her nerve? Has she got the bottle?’

Scarlett nodded. ‘I think so. The thing is, Steph, I need to keep my profile nice and high. I’ve been offered a TV series. It’s daytime, but it’s a chance at something with a bit more oomph to it. It’s going to be a kind of chat show – sort of, Where are they now? Every week we’ll be looking at a couple of reality TV show stars and seeing what’s happened to them. Some that’ve gone on to make something of themselves, some that have ended up on their beam ends.’

‘Sort of, triumph or tragedy,’ I muttered.

Scarlett, with no sense of irony, pounced on my words. ‘That’s not a bad title,’ she said. ‘Triumph or tragedy. I’ll run it past the producer.’

‘And you’re thinking Leanne can be Scarlett by night and you can be Scarlett by day? Are you sure you can trust her not to drop you in it?’

Scarlett sipped her drink and considered. ‘She’s always been loyal, our Leanne. She’s a year younger than me. Always looked up to me. I don’t think she’d grass me up, not even if there was an earner in it.’

‘An earner in what?’ Leanne walked back into the kitchen. With her hair swathed in a towel, the resemblance was quite unsettling. She sat down at the breakfast bar and Scarlett fixed her a drink.

‘Just a little something I’ve got in mind.’

Leanne made a dent in her drink and smacked her lips. ‘Ooh, that’s bloody lovely, our Scarlett. Nice room, too. I’ve never had an en suite before, except in a bed and breakfast. I could get used to this.’

‘I’m glad to hear it. I could get used to having you around.’

‘So what’s this job you’ve been hinting at? You know I’ve got no secretarial skills or owt. All I’ve ever done is work in the nail bar. And you don’t need to bring me over from Dublin just to keep your manicure up to scratch.’

Scarlett flashed me a quick look. ‘You know how people used to mistake us for each other when we were kids?’

Leanne giggled. It was identical to Scarlett’s irritating cackle. ‘Eeeh, do you remember when Miss Evans thought I was you and dragged me along to the head for your bollocking?’

Scarlett gave me an ‘I told you so’ smile. ‘I reckon if you dyed your hair, we could still get away with it. What do you think?’

Leanne eyed her critically. ‘I’d need to do my eyebrows a bit different. But if it wasn’t your nearest and dearest, I reckon I could pull it off. Why? Are you making some porno flick where you don’t want to show your scar?’

‘Fuck off. Of course I’m not doing porn. I might be a slapper but I’ve got standards, Leanne Higgins.’ Scarlett dug me in the ribs. ‘You tell her.’

‘Me? Why me?’

‘Because that’s what you’re good at. Explaining stuff so it sounds normal.’

It was, I suppose, one way of describing my job. So I outlined Scarlett’s suggestion to Leanne, emphasising the secrecy of the project at every stage. At first, she looked sceptical. But as I outlined what Scarlett wanted, she started to look more interested. By the end, she was grinning.

‘And that’s all you want me to do? Go out on the razz three or four times a week and pretend I’m you? You want to hire me to do your bad behaviour for you? That’s mental, that is,’ Leanne said, shaking her head and chuckling.

‘That’s all there is to it. You’d be staying here. Obviously you couldn’t go out when I’m out. I can’t be in two places at once. But it’s not like you’d be a prisoner here. You can go out shopping and shit when I’m home with Jimmy.’

Leanne drained her drink and waved the glass at her cousin. ‘Gimme another one of them. If I’m going to pretend to be you, I need to get into training. And what about Joshu? What does he think about all this?’

‘He doesn’t know about it yet.’

Now Leanne looked anxious. ‘But he is going to know about it, right? Because there’s limits to how far I’m prepared to go with this. And sleeping with him is definitely off limits. I mean, what you do is your business, but I wouldn’t sleep with a Paki.’

‘Jesus, Leanne, you can’t go round saying shit like that. That’s how I got in trouble in the first place.’

Leanne shrugged. ‘I’m not going round saying it, am I? This is just us, in your kitchen. I’m not stupid. I wouldn’t say that where anybody else could hear me. But it’s true, all the same. I’m not shagging him.’

Exasperated, Scarlett slammed her glass down on the counter. ‘Of course you’re not bloody sleeping with him. He’s my husband. I love him. I don’t want him catching something off the likes of you.’

I thought war was going to break out. But I clearly understood nothing of the history between these two women. Instead of a catfight, they burst out laughing and playfully punched each other’s shoulders. ‘What are you like,’ Scarlett said.

‘Mental,’ Leanne replied immediately, as if it was their own personal comedy routine rather than a straight lift from a Catherine Tate Show sketch. ‘What are you like?’

‘Mental.’

And that was that. The whole arrangement had taken about twenty minutes to set up. A smarter woman than me would have picked up the clue phone and learned something about Scarlett that afternoon. But I was slow, and it took me a lot longer.

19

Maggie had fixed me up with a new project ghosting for teenage twins who had rowed the Atlantic, so I didn’t see much of Leanne and Scarlett over the next couple of months. Well, I didn’t see them in the flesh, but it was hard to pick up a red-top without being aware of ‘Scarlett’. Between the teasers for the new TV show and paparazzi shots of her staggering out of clubs in the small hours, often with Joshu, the coverage must have plastered a smile all over George’s face.

When I finally resurfaced from the Atlantic, I met Scarlett for lunch near the production offices for her new show, Real Life TV. We settled into a corner booth with a bottle of Prosecco and a couple of bowls of pasta and she passed me a bundle of photos. There was a clutch of recent shots of Jimmy, who looked cuter with every passing month. I’d surprised myself by how attached I’d grown to him. I’d missed his cuddles and giggles while I’d been locked down with someone else’s book. ‘He’s started pulling himself up on the furniture,’ Scarlett said fondly. ‘He’s into everything. I tell you, Steph, it’s been a real bonus having Leanne around. She’s really good with him. Now Jimmy’s on the move, it’s great having an extra pair of hands on deck.’ She chopped her spaghetti up with the side of her fork and began spooning it in while I studied the photos.

As well as the pics of Jimmy, there were several shots of Leanne looking weirdly similar to Scarlett. I could only tell the difference because I was looking for it. ‘It doesn’t confuse him? With her looking so much like you? Because I have to tell you, Scarlett, the resemblance is uncanny.’

She swallowed a mouthful of pasta, shaking her head. ‘Doesn’t seem to. If we’re both in the room he heads for me. I read somewhere that they go by smell as much as by sight. Obviously I smell different from Leanne.’ She grinned. ‘That’ll be the smelly Irish tinker in her.’ She held her hands up defensively when she saw the look on my face. ‘I’m only winding you up,’ she said. ‘You’re so easy, Steph.’

‘And you’re so bad. It’s great that Jimmy’s OK with Leanne. What about Joshu?’

‘He seems pretty chilled about it all. It means he gets to go out with a woman on his arm when he’s not actually working. And because we’re not arguing all the time, things between us got a bit sweeter. Which means it’s good all round. All I got to do is make sure nobody susses it out.’

‘How long are you planning on keeping this up?’

Scarlett frowned at her food, poking it with her spoon as if she expected it to develop independent life. ‘Obviously, not for ever.’