Cleaner - Chapter One - Part One

DAHLIA 

“Don’t you want to be rich again?” asked Tommy.

I turned to him, put my hands on my hips and said, “Look around you. I already am.”

He glanced at the arcing glass roof, the indoor pool behind me, the designer furnishings, and scowled impatiently. “Well, richer than you are then.”

I turned my back on him, looking down in the water. “Honestly Tommy, I’m not sure what I want.”

“Look Dahlia. As your agent I have a responsibility to manage your comeback as carefully as I can to get you back into the spotlight with maximum impact. I have my strategy worked out and I really think we can revitalise your name; possibly even make you bigger than you were before. We can get you modelling the top lines within the month if we play it carefully; put you back into position as the face of Diabolique perfume; get rid of that skinny wench they replaced you with. You can have it all back and more, seriously.”

I lowered my chin and half turned my head but didn’t look back at him. “Do you really think that’s possible?”

The moment’s hesitation illustrated his doubt and the blag of what he was saying equally well but he recovered nicely. “I’m confident, yes.” He could sense my apprehension clearly so he quickly added, “Sure, we can’t be certain, neither of us; but I am talking to a lot of the top people and the sense I’m getting is that they are receptive to it.”

I said nothing, looking instead out through the high glass walls down the expansive garden.

“As your friend,” said Tommy, “I’m saying, give me a break. Can you do that? We’ve known each other for donkey’s years. I’ve always done right by you. Haven’t I?”

I shrugged and allowed him the trace of a smile. “For the most part.”

“Then work with me on this. It isn’t just your career we’re talking about. It’s mine too. This can put me back on the map as well. That’s why we’re partners.”

“I went to the party Tommy,” I said, walking past him toward the door.

“Sure,” he said, following. “Great, yeah. But I went to loads of trouble setting that up. There were a lot of people there you needed to network with. You barely stayed beyond nine.”

“I got bored.”

“Dahlia. Stop and talk to me for a second.”

I went on walking, passing out of the pool room and into the house proper. Tommy came scurrying after.

The house was fairly vast: the combined result of the money I’d made as a model and actress and the legacy of my parents. It had bright sunlit rooms toward the outside but the interior was cool and dark, just the way I liked it. The wide corridor led toward the front of the house where my cleaner was busy mopping the floor.

When Tommy saw where I was clearly headed, his voice went up a notch in pitch. “Dahlia, will you slow down and listen to me, I mean it. Either you’re going for the comeback or you aren’t. It’s your choice, sure, that’s understandable; though no offence, if you chuck this opportunity away, you’re an idiot.”

I stopped and raised my eyebrows at him.

“Okay, yeah, sorry. But sweetheart; really; this time we’ve got here is probably your last chance.”

“It was you who said I should stop working in the first place.”

“Yeah. And as I explained at the time; the work was dropping off; you needed to step away to give people the chance to put you out of their minds a little. Either that or you really would have gone out of fashion. Pulling out of the business for a couple of years was the smart move; I stick by that recommendation. But now it’s time to jump back in, and you only have a small window of opportunity. You’re still beautiful – you’re gorgeous – but that won’t last forever. You need to jump in now, with both feet.”

I went on walking toward the front door, circling round the wet patch of floor where Melissa was cleaning. Tommy came after me but was too intent to be careful. He slipped and almost lost his balance then blazed at the cleaner. “Do you really have to be doing this now? We’re trying to have a meeting!”

“Sorry sir,” she said, picking up her bucket and pulling away, keeping her eyes low out of respect... or fear.

I raised my eyes to the heavens.

“Just tell me why you left the party Dahlia,” said Tommy, taking my arm to turn me round before the grand entranceway.

I shrugged, avoiding his eyes. “It was... I just... I was just an ornament; that was all; something pretty to hang pretty clothes on.”

He looked at me blankly. “Yeah? So?”

His reaction was so predictable that it surprised me and I laughed. “I’m just not sure I want to do it all again. The drivel people talk about at those things; like they’re all so important. Like their lives really matter.”

“Of course they matter. They’re celebrities.”

I chuckled. “The scary thing about you Tommy, is you see nothing wrong with that statement.”

I noticed Melissa again. She was carefully going back to work, washing down the tiles with her mop, leaning over it to apply pressure. She was so intent on her work; so focused.

Tommy clicked his fingers in front of my face. “Are you even listening?”

“Yes Tommy. I am. You want me to put more gusto into the comeback.”

“I want you to live up to your fabulous potential; go back to being the woman you used to be.”

I pictured one of the Vogue cover shots, my beautiful face and figure, my curly golden hair. “The woman I used to be.”

“Yeah. That incredible, rich, famous, desirable woman.”

I sighed. “Okay Tommy. I’ll do it. With gusto. You don’t have to worry.”

“Great. I’ll set up a meeting in a couple of days with one of the glossy magazines; see if we can’t set up some shoots to get us started. Alright?”

I nodded but I was looking past him at Melissa again, dutifully getting on with her work. And I thought, She doesn’t have to worry about all this crap. Nobody expects her to be fabulous.

Tommy chattered on, talking about his grand plans, but I ignored him. I just went on watching Melissa. She was tremendously obese; totally round; with thick dark hair cut into a bob and fringe. She was still mopping intently, careful to do a good job. It was all so simple for her.

She didn’t seem to have a care in the world.