The Footballer's Wife (35 page)

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Jodie leant over the bar and made sure that her low-cut top gave Dave, one of the regulars, a good look at her ample cleavage. ‘And your own, love,' he said, as he always did. Jodie got the best tips at the Beacon. There was a fight every night and there were more boards than windows on the outside of the building. She didn't particularly like the place, but it was a good stopgap for the time being – and she got the attention from the male regulars that she craved.

She had worked there for a year but knew she wouldn't have to stay much longer, not if Brian Spencer had anything to do with it. He had walked into the pub a week ago and asked the manager, Val, where the lovely younger sister of Leanne Crompton could be found. Jodie had shimmied across to him, swung her long blonde hair over her shoulder and announced, ‘You're looking at her.'

He had managed two seconds of eye contact before his gaze came to rest on her chest. Jodie didn't mind. She knew, as her sister had found, that they were going to be her fortune. Brian had slid his business card across the bar. ‘Call me. I think I could represent you,' he had said, then ordered a Campari and soda. Val had taken the ancient bottle down and sniffed it slyly. Nobody had ordered Campari at the Beacon for at least three years.

Jodie had looked at the card with delight: Brian Spencer Management. She had tried and failed before to get someone to take her seriously as a glamour model. When she was younger she had thought things would be as easy for her as they had been for Leanne, who'd been an overnight success. But when Jodie had sent her amateur pictures to Leanne's horrible manager she had been told, ‘Yeah, love, I see where you're coming from but you're not the full package like your sister. You're a bit of a barrel and your features are too clustered. Don't get me wrong, sweets, you're a pretty little thing, you just ain't Leanne.'

She had shelved her ideas of fame and fortune and instead had gone on an extreme diet, slimming down to a size six. Her mum had noticed that she was often sick in the middle of the night, but Jodie had passed it off as a bad stomach, and as her mum didn't think about much other than herself for any length of time, she carried on being sick. Every time someone told her how good she was looking, Jodie thought it was all worth it. She could see in the mirror now that her once-chubby face had been transformed. Her eyes were huge and blue and her cheekbones were sharp. Her hair had been brown when Jodie had sent her pictures to Jenny, but now it was blonde, well coloured and styled – she had made a deal with JoJo at the hairdresser's: JoJo did her highlights for free and in return Jodie shoved her as many Bacardi Breezers as she could get down her face on Friday and Saturday nights at the Beacon.

Until Brian had walked through the door, Jodie had been annoyed with Leanne. She thought her sister could have helped her more. OK, she'd taken Jodie to celebrity parties where she'd met Calum Best and Duncan out of Blue, but so what? She was still living at her mum's and pulling pints at the Beacon. Leanne should have made Jenny take her on, or at least give her a chance.

Anyway, she was going to show that Jenny. She was going to go all the way with Brian Spencer managing her. She didn't know whether Brian could manage a piss-up in a brewery but that didn't matter to her. She wanted the kudos of having a manager. And that was what Brian was.

‘Val says you've got yourself a manager,' Dave said, still staring at her boobs.

‘Yeah, that's right. He's got an office in town. I'm calling him soon to get some pictures taken.'

‘Want me to take some pictures for you?' Dave leered.

‘Why don't you pop off to the toilet and have a wank, Dave? Get it out of your system.'

Val looked on and smiled approvingly. She didn't want to lose Jodie as a member of staff. She might not be the sharpest knife in the drawer but her tongue was like a razor.

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Published in 2008 by Ebury Press, an imprint of Ebury

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