Book 2, Chapter 17

On Friday morning at the yard I got an excited phone call from Jenny about a casting invitation that had arrived in the post.

"When and where Jenny?" I'd left before the post arrived that morning so wouldn't know yet if it was the same casting as me.

"This coming Monday at 11 am in Canning Town, London."

"Wow that's fantastic! Don't book your ticket yet as that is near my sister's place and she might be able to give you a lift from here early Monday morning. I'll ring her now and get back to you."

Jenny didn't know that I had a 'fixed' invitation due, possibly to the same casting as her. Also of course I didn't want to spoil her moment speculating so left it there until I could check with Litara. It takes 15 minutes in Dad's car to get from the yard to our house, pick up a letter and get back to the yard which makes it a ridiculous thing to do but but these things happen when it takes your sister 16 minutes to answer the phone!

"You're on for a lift on Monday Jenny and I'm coming too! Litara knows about the casting and says your competition is 100 girls from all over the country. I've been included because of the programme Litara and Jean Luc are making but she didn't know about you being one of the people auditioning."

"You could get a job too Venus. Just because you're doing Litara's programme doesn't mean you stand less chance than the rest of us. If you're good you're good so let's get together on Saturday and decide what we'll wear!"

"Work! No more playtime!"

"Yes Daddy."

"Don't you 'Yes Daddy' me. Litara tried that and it won't work."

"No Daddy."

"No what?"

"No Litara can't make you say Yes, Daddy"

"Yes what?"

"Oh thank you Daddy, I knew you'd let me go to London with Litara on Monday!"

In fairness I did still put in 9 hours work that day fitting wiring into the boat to Dad's design with everything made out of the best quality materials that could be bought. Even something as simple as lighting is a problem on a boat where temperature and voltage available vary a lot, power is limited and it all has to work in a salty atmosphere. Of course I'd be the one to suffer when things broke so I cut no corners and re-made any soldered connection of which I was unsure.

I did have to put up with a deal of teasing from Jack and Ian, especially when I took to wearing gloves but I was very resistant to playing the helpless female even when help was offered. That in turn got me accusations of becoming a strident feminist to which I sweetly replied I'd love their help if they would promise to come when I needed help alone in the middle of an ocean.

Not everything said and done was of a teasing nature though - for instance I hadn't noticed until working all day with these men that in proprietary moments Jack or Ian would put a hand on my back unlike my Da who sometimes pushed my hair back. Small things count.

Sorting out Jenny's casting 'look' that weekend was simple although you wouldn't think so the flap she got into. Think a warm topcoat for the journey and underneath classic blonde, casual smart and you've got it. For me it was more difficult for, as well as taking part in the casting, I was likely to be on camera for the television programme and I didn't want to divert attention away from the girls with a story to tell. Postponing my decision on clothes for a day; after dancing on Saturday afternoon I `splashed the cash’ with an eyelash extension fill-in and a manicure - nobody was going to see me on Monday looking anything less than totally Naomi!

Possibly not the brightest of moves as, although as it meant that for Saturday night with the gang I was 'hot', on Sunday morning I spent the whole of my scuba class wondering how many nails I'd break and if the eyelashes were swimming-pool-resistant!

"If you get this job you're going to be a basket case!" was Serena's reaction when she came round to visit Sunday afternoon and watched me picking my clothes for next day.

"I've decided that for the journey I'll wear a white shirt with the jacket and Uggs I wore to see Dr Stanhope as they're warm and comfortable but to give myself a chance in the casting I'll concentrate on my below the waist style taking my best heels to change into as they won't be obtrusive during the reporter's camera work which by its nature is sure to be head and above the waist shots."

"Sounds like a plan." said Serena. "In fact it sounds like a plan you've spent your entire weekend working on so enough about you. It's me time!"

Serena's domestic life was going through a sticky patch as her father had accused Alistair Dougan of using underhand methods to poach his staff which in the world of estate agents, realtors and property developers is almost a compliment. After a contorted description of the dispute I began to suspect Serena of playing them off against each other for some scheme of her own.

"You're angling for more holiday time!" I accused.

"Damn you're good! What gave me away?"

"I've known you for ever See and learnt to listen to what you don't say. All that was left was an apartment of your own or extended time off - even you can't stand much chance of getting an apartment and we were talking about Madeira and Rio de Janeiro last week, so……"

There is huge comfort in long term friendships and when Serena left it was with a hug and good luck wish plus a threat to tear me into small pieces if I didn't call her as soon as Jenny and I had news.

Next morning Litara and I picked up Jenny at 5 am, after of course I'd had a last minute change of outfit. I'd added a cami under the shirt in case they wanted to see more of my admittedly very average figure, changed the jacket for something lighter while hoping I didn't freeze and stuck my Uggs in my bag in favour of my killer heels. I'd done my best and now it was up to the selectors.

It was 9:30 before we got to the hall and Litara dropped us at a nearby warm café suggesting we follow her in an hour. By now we knew that the 100 hopefuls were coming from all over the country to fill several categories and which ones we were up for was indicated by a colour code on the name clip that had come with our invitation - privately she had told me that a green circle indicated someone of particular interest to the reporter and she wanted me to concentrate socially on those.

That hour was very slow as neither of us were keen to eat or drink much but eventually we joined a crowd of other young hopefuls signing in.

"Girls." I jumped as unnoticed by me one of the men had picked up a microphone. "You are all here because you are new faces and we are looking for new faces. Our methods may seem chaotic but they work. You will see around the hall several tables each with a coloured tablecloth and it is your responsibility over the next 3 hours to visit each table whose colour matches a circle on your name tag."

He paused for a moment. "A word of warning: no commitments will be offered until 3 pm so don't waste time asking; secondly you all have in common that you have done modelling courses because that is where we obtained your details and that is the explanation for the two camera crews you will have noticed. They are making a programme for television comparing the experiences of students on different courses. You are under no obligation to talk to them and they must have your written consent to air any film footage of you. I'll hand over now to Martin Wood here, who you may recognise, to explain further."

I did recognise the new man with the microphone but I couldn't have named him and all he said was that he and his colleague Shirley Porter would separately be moving among us, each with a camera crew, and they would welcome any comments we might have on the courses we had taken.

There were 6 coloured tables and if they gave 5 minutes to each candidate in 3 hours each table would see 36 out of the 100 of us. I on the other hand with 3 tables to visit would spend 2¾ hours just queueing! It began to make sense because bored people talk. Within 30 minutes I had identified the undercover reporter who hung around Martin Wood and made several complaining remarks about the teacher trying to sell her amphetamines to lose weight.

"Suck it up sweet cheeks!" came a voice from just behind me. "If you can't stand the heat you'll never make it as a model. I had to screw the teacher's cousin and you don't hear me complaining, and no Mr Wood you don't have my permission to use that!"

That reaction was common with the students taking pride in the abuse they'd endured to get here. Very little of it could be shown on television and I couldn't imagine it interesting the public.

I did get to the first of my tables and they did want my shirt off so it was lucky I'd changed my plan. I'd imagined spending most of the time posing and walking but they were more interested in my sailing and tennis - my 5 minute guess was about right though.

Shirley Porter seemed to be running a model class appreciation session. I did tell her how the teacher used a fan to try and blow me out of a backless dress but did it more to raise laugh than complain. I had to leave her in any case for my second table which only lasted a minute once they spotted my tattoo!

Queueing at my third table I found myself next to the girl who'd almost boasted about having sex with the teacher's cousin to get here. She was it turned out good company and had come down from Yorkshire. I couldn't resist asking why she hadn't told the teacher to take a running jump. "

"My boyfriend really wants me to get into modelling because he thinks I have potential but the teacher said he'd throw me off the course if I didn't do go with his cousin."

"In that case he'd have had to refund your money."

"That's what I told him but he said he'd tell everyone I tried to seduce him if I tried to get it back."

"Who'd believe him?"

"Maybe not many but I wouldn't have the money for another course and my boyfriend is the one who got me onto the course because he's a friend of the teacher."

Something didn't sound right about this. "Where is your boyfriend today if he's so keen for you to become a model?"

That is when this tough cookie broke down in tears. "He told me the competition would be too tough for this job and it would be a waste of money. It's my money so I said I was coming anyway and he dumped me!"

That was when I became aware of Shirley Porter, her accompanying camera pointed straight at us, and that it was my turn at the casting table.

I was gently pushed aside as Shirley moved in to put an arm around the sobbing girl and gesture with a nod that I should move to the table.

Hardly aware of what I was doing for the next few minutes my mind was trying to make sense of the story I'd just heard while my body incongruously went through dance steps.

"Thank you Miss Williams. Next please." and I was left suspended…