Phoebe's Performance

The intervention

Chapter 7

"The slipper manoeuvre: the point where I actually identified Otto's slippers then bent down and offered them to him as if he were royalty. How woeful can I get?"

"It couldn't have been that bad!" Sophie Smart chuckles. Sophie flicks a strand of hair. As usual, Sophie looks expensive. Her short bob of now blonde hair gleams. Every strand sits in place and wouldn't dare to kink or dare frizz. "You did say that he actually left and went to see his mother off. So he listened to you and he's not evil incarnate just yet."

"After our introduction he must believe I'm bonkers. When he went to his Mum's he wouldn't allow me to drive him and decided to catch a taxi."

"Have you seen yourself drive? I'd think about catching a cab too...." Carol Cartwright calls from the kitchen.

"When he returned to the mansion it was if I didn't exist and had become invisible. He evaded me completely. The whole day was absolutely ghastly. Absolutely ghastly."

Much to Mickey's horror I invited both Sophie and Carol over to her pad. Our group consists of four ladies. We're tight knit and we often take it in turns to have dinner at someone's place. Knowing that Mickey has adamantly refused to leave her flat, we're all congregated in Mickey's room. The girls are on the same page as me when it comes to my sister, we're ignoring her wishes to mope at home. She needs support.

I love and trust these girls and don't know what I'd do without them. A typical night with the girls has us discussing everything. No topic is off limits except for tonight when we've danced around Mickey's shop and the issues going on with her boyfriend Artie. Mickey's mouth has been completely zippered shut and she's given me the stink eye about ten times tonight.

Already we've heard tales from Sophie and the tribulations of her moving in with her boyfriend, the delectable Matthew. We've dissected Carol's ex-boyfriend Josh who has moved to Australia and kind of dropped out of contact. In between all this we've managed to compare notes on more intimate things like cellulite, crows feet and sex.

Sophie's started delving into my Plan A, working for Otto Arnold. I've been trying to explain how the job might possibly turn into a diabolical situation.

The three of us, Sophie, Mickey and I, are jammed together on the bed while Carol is ransacking our kitchen for booze. Carol's good like that. She keeps a party going. I'm against the window; the duvet is pulled up to my chin because a bitter breeze circulates the room. For all parties concerned, this is much better than being subjected to the cheesy smell.

"So what are you going to do about the feng shui bit?" Sophie asks.

"I have no idea." I shake my head. "I'd better become some sort of expert though in case he asks. I researched feng shui when he left for his Mum's."

"It's a Chinese philosophy, isn't it?" Everything about Sophie is perfect, even her answer is right on the money. I suppose it should be because Sophie is an advertising expert and has a way with crafting the right words.

"My research says feng shui is an ideology to improve life, create harmony and entice good luck into life."

"Please explain how the hell offering slippers would be a part of feng shui?" Carol appears with a bottle of white wine. Sophie raises her glass and Carol pours. Mickey shakes her head, silently protesting every part of this party on the bed.

"Come on darling. A tipple won't hurt you." Carol sloshes wine into Mickey's glass despite my sister's protests. "I can't have you fading away into a shadow like me."