Sienna instead.
She took in her surroundings; the Marylebone flat that her darling sister had found so that Sienna could live in a nice area, the flat that her darling sister paid the rent on to get Sienna started in London, the flat that her darling sister had chosen for its restored fireplaces, high ceilings and antique floorboards; the flat with filthy grey dust sheets pinned up at the sash windows because Sienna simply couldn’t bear to have any more Tiger hand-me-downs. Besides, her sister’s raw silk curtains were so darn boring. Sienna wanted something cool and animal print. Giraffe maybe. Or even ocelot. She just couldn’t afford anything on her meagre junior’s budget right now. That would simply have to change, resolved Sienna as she tapped her talons on the floorboards, deep in thought.
Sienna certainly had no qualms about using her sister’s generosity to get her on the next step of the ladder. She’d cultivated her mercenary streak from an early age. Tiger’s sporadic visits to see her at boarding school certainly had their perks, as she used to bring all the goodie bags from the latest flash parties she had been to. Sienna regarded them as guilt offerings for not stopping her parents from sticking Sienna in some stone turret masquerading as a school in Hitchin. Tiger was busy in London on her own glamorous path to stardom. Didn’t she have any idea just what going to boarding school in a town that sounded like a venereal disease could do to an ambitious young lady?
Sienna would always put Tiger’s gifts to good use, shrewdly buying friends at school with promises of perfumes, scented candles, expensive face creams, trinkets, designer chocolates, champagne manicures – whatever the goodie bags proffered. She was especially in demand as a friend at Hitchin College for Young Ladies during London Fashion Week, when the gifts took on new levels of luxury. Sienna was never under any illusions that she was popular for any other reason. This of course never bothered her – Sienna had decided at a very early age that life was all about getting a result. Whatever it took. Looking at her watch, Sienna realised she needed to get a wriggle on if she was going to make it into the office early and get Rex’s desk all organised and tidy ahead of his arrival.
Tiger drew the enormous duvet from over her pink curls and squinted at her mobile flashing merrily on the dressing table next to her. She gingerly checked her inbox. Seven missed calls from Blue, eight from Lewis. 10.05 a.m. Shit. Shit. Shit! She never missed a rehearsal. Pepper must be going crazy. Tiger dialled for Blue and braced herself.
‘Youuuuu dirrrty girl!’ roared Blue down the line. ‘Oooh if walls could talk this morning!’
Tiger flopped back onto Rex’s bed. Looking at her mussed-up reflection in the mirror on the ceiling she sighed dreamily.
‘You’re all over the papers by the way,’ continued Blue casually, sensing her fragile state, ‘and Lewis is going nutsthat he can’t get hold of you. Erm, he’s got some news you might want to hear.’
‘Oh god. I need your help then,’ pleaded Tiger, rolling on to her front, ‘I’ve let everyone down, I’m so late for Pepper in the studio. Could you come over, like
now
with the driver, bring me my
pointe
shoes, some false lashes and a catsuit? In fact, sling a headscarf and spare stillies in the bag too. Tell Lewis my phone died and I’ll call at lunch.’
‘Check, check and check. So where am I coming to?’
‘What d’you mean where?’
‘Where are you? I’d take an educated guess you’re not in Elton’s bed at any rate.’
‘Oh right, oh I see. Yes, of course. Er, come to 555 Cheyne Walk.’
‘Hmm. Whose house is that?’
‘Don’t do this, Blue.’
‘I wanna hear you say it.’
‘You still want your job tomorrow?’
‘Gotcha. Need some shades?’
‘You bet. Bags like an entire set of Louis Vuitton luggage.’
‘Ha. I’ll get you in showroom condition in
She took in her surroundings; the Marylebone flat that her darling sister had found so that Sienna could live in a nice area, the flat that her darling sister paid the rent on to get Sienna started in London, the flat that her darling sister had chosen for its restored fireplaces, high ceilings and antique floorboards; the flat with filthy grey dust sheets pinned up at the sash windows because Sienna simply couldn’t bear to have any more Tiger hand-me-downs. Besides, her sister’s raw silk curtains were so darn boring. Sienna wanted something cool and animal print. Giraffe maybe. Or even ocelot. She just couldn’t afford anything on her meagre junior’s budget right now. That would simply have to change, resolved Sienna as she tapped her talons on the floorboards, deep in thought.
Sienna certainly had no qualms about using her sister’s generosity to get her on the next step of the ladder. She’d cultivated her mercenary streak from an early age. Tiger’s sporadic visits to see her at boarding school certainly had their perks, as she used to bring all the goodie bags from the latest flash parties she had been to. Sienna regarded them as guilt offerings for not stopping her parents from sticking Sienna in some stone turret masquerading as a school in Hitchin. Tiger was busy in London on her own glamorous path to stardom. Didn’t she have any idea just what going to boarding school in a town that sounded like a venereal disease could do to an ambitious young lady?
Sienna would always put Tiger’s gifts to good use, shrewdly buying friends at school with promises of perfumes, scented candles, expensive face creams, trinkets, designer chocolates, champagne manicures – whatever the goodie bags proffered. She was especially in demand as a friend at Hitchin College for Young Ladies during London Fashion Week, when the gifts took on new levels of luxury. Sienna was never under any illusions that she was popular for any other reason. This of course never bothered her – Sienna had decided at a very early age that life was all about getting a result. Whatever it took. Looking at her watch, Sienna realised she needed to get a wriggle on if she was going to make it into the office early and get Rex’s desk all organised and tidy ahead of his arrival.
Tiger drew the enormous duvet from over her pink curls and squinted at her mobile flashing merrily on the dressing table next to her. She gingerly checked her inbox. Seven missed calls from Blue, eight from Lewis. 10.05 a.m. Shit. Shit. Shit! She never missed a rehearsal. Pepper must be going crazy. Tiger dialled for Blue and braced herself.
‘Youuuuu dirrrty girl!’ roared Blue down the line. ‘Oooh if walls could talk this morning!’
Tiger flopped back onto Rex’s bed. Looking at her mussed-up reflection in the mirror on the ceiling she sighed dreamily.
‘You’re all over the papers by the way,’ continued Blue casually, sensing her fragile state, ‘and Lewis is going nutsthat he can’t get hold of you. Erm, he’s got some news you might want to hear.’
‘Oh god. I need your help then,’ pleaded Tiger, rolling on to her front, ‘I’ve let everyone down, I’m so late for Pepper in the studio. Could you come over, like
now
with the driver, bring me my
pointe
shoes, some false lashes and a catsuit? In fact, sling a headscarf and spare stillies in the bag too. Tell Lewis my phone died and I’ll call at lunch.’
‘Check, check and check. So where am I coming to?’
‘What d’you mean where?’
‘Where are you? I’d take an educated guess you’re not in Elton’s bed at any rate.’
‘Oh right, oh I see. Yes, of course. Er, come to 555 Cheyne Walk.’
‘Hmm. Whose house is that?’
‘Don’t do this, Blue.’
‘I wanna hear you say it.’
‘You still want your job tomorrow?’
‘Gotcha. Need some shades?’
‘You bet. Bags like an entire set of Louis Vuitton luggage.’
‘Ha. I’ll get you in showroom condition in
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