Page 22 of Filter This
‘Why the face?’ Amy whispered. ‘What’s the problem?’
Ali, frankly, didn’t know where to begin. ‘Well, it’s … eh, the news … is very new … I haven’t exactly told anyone yet.’
‘Never mind that.’ Amy waved away Ali’s concerns. ‘Believe me, I know how this thing works.’
‘How?’ It was well known that Shelly’s genius right-hand woman eschewed every platform herself. ‘You don’t even do social media.’
‘A doctor doesn’t have to be sick to treat people.’ Amy grinned and Ali caught the subtle implication. Apparently, Amy reckoned they were suffering a sickness. Jeez, she doesn’t know the half of it, thought Ali. Or maybe she does. She glanced at Shelly, wondering for the first time if everything in the perfect camp Shelly was exactly as it seemed.
‘The main thing,’ Amy carried on, ‘is to eke out every last #bumpshot and #pregnancyjourney and #blessed moment of this thing.’
‘Yeah …’ Ali felt buoyed by these words – she could almost see all the cute posts arranged in a montage in her mind. It would be so nice to have something, well, nice to put on Instagram. Her thoughts returned briefly to the grim task of photoshopping her dad out of her Insta-post earlier, the pic that had won her a place on that stage, but quickly she shook herself free of the unpleasant memory. You do what you have to do. This pregnancy was gonna be fun, she resolved.
‘Oh and Ali?’ Amy had her phone out and was now snapping pics of Shelly being photographed, gesturing impatiently at Shelly to adjust her head. ‘Find the light,’ she called, then turning back to Ali she added, ‘Can you do something about Shelly’s call times? They’re very early. I know she’d really appreciate it. You can do that, right?’
‘Sure, of course,’ Ali said quietly as she felt a little squirm of angst in her tummy. Was that why she’d picked her? Everyone was now absorbed in Shelly, who was turning this way and that so the photographer could capture every perfect inch of her. A group of Insta-fans were gathered, held back by a velvet rope, phones in hand to capture the divine Shelly.
‘You look ah-ma-zing, Shelly’ seemed to ring out on repeat. What must it feel like to be loved like that? It suddenly struck Ali as incredibly unfair. What did Shelly have?
‘Ali, is it?’ The photographer was sizing her up and beckoning her forward.
She carefully stepped onto the red carpet. She saw the faces of the girls frantically posting every second spent basking in Shelly’s presence.
Thinking of Mini and her date with Marcus and the blank eyes of her dad earlier that day, she thought, Fuck it, suddenly feeling defiant, maybe even a little reckless. I’m gonna make the goddamn most of this chance. I deserve something good to come my way.
She slipped in beside Shelly, placed one hand where her supposed bump was going to be and smised for the camera.
9
Shelly felt deflated the day after the wild-card announcement. It was nearly 8 a.m. when she woke up to find the house quiet. Dan must’ve left as soon as Marni arrived – she came early on Fridays so Dan could hit the gym before work.
Shelly seized the moment to snuggle further down into her pillows. This is what counts as a lie-in in my life, she thought ruefully. It was a rarity. Georgie favoured the scream-in-Mama’s-face 6 a.m. wake-up call. Dan must’ve gotten up with her. Shelly tried not to dwell on this but the thought immediately made her edgy. She could never tell with Dan if the lie-in, if you could call it that, was given out of consideration or if he was actually off somewhere raging because he’d had to get up with Georgie. Even if she did do her fair share, Dan always seemed to act like the martyr.
Was everyone’s marriage never-ending one-upmanship over who was doing the most parenting? Shelly was convinced Dan had a leader board in his head to keep a running tally of how many trips Shelly went on, how many early calls she had to do forDurty Aul’ Townand how many bedtimes she missed because of launches she needed to attend. It drove her crazy. Suddenly she became aware of a shadow in her peripheral vision.
‘Jesus!’ Shelly started at the sight of Carlson, her personal trainer (his name had definitely been Carl at some point – he was from Ringsend, for god’s sake – but he’d adopted the ‘son’ to stand out on Insta), standing at the bedroom door with hands on hips.
‘What the eff is this doing here?’ he brayed, brandishing a banana peel.
‘I needed a snack,’ Shelly said defensively.
‘A snack, a snack. What have I told you about thick-skinned fruit? Why not just stuff a Mars bar down your neck?’
‘I came in late last night and was a bit hungry …’ Shelly attempted to defend herself.
‘Late? Late!’ Carlson was getting extremely red in the face. ‘First you eat a fucking banana, and now you’re telling me it was a post-6 p.m. banana feast! Shelly, I cannot work with someone who is not committed. You’re wasting my time, you’re wasting your own time.’ He flung the banana peel on the carpet. ‘You can drag your ass out of bed, pick this up with your teeth and give me a three-minute plank while you’re down there.’
Shelly had eased the duvet up to conceal her smile during Carlson’s rant. She attempted to nod in a serious fashion.
‘Are you laughing under there?’ he roared.
Luckily, at this moment Amy appeared behind him.
‘Sorry, it was me.’ She had a hand raised in a gesture of culpability. ‘I let him in. But I didn’t know he’d mainlined 10 grams of creatine already.’ She pretended to give Carlson a soothing shoulder massage as she added, ‘And I did not tell him about the banana.’
Carlson shrugged Amy off and clicked his fingers at Shelly. ‘She did tell me you’re duffed up again, though, and just so you know,’ Carlson pointed an accusatory index finger in Shelly’s direction, ‘I’m not accepting that as any class of excuse for skipping training or gorging on thick-skinned fruit. Now up – we’re doing legs and arms today.’
Carlson stormed downstairs towards the second-floor weights room and Shelly slipped out of bed reluctantly. Her lie-in had been cruelly snatched from her, meaning she was not in the mood for anything right now. The early pregnancy tireds had begun in earnest and she felt like she was trying to walk underwater while wearing a suit of armour. She also felt pissed off with, well, everything.
