The Pretty People Feel No Pain

    Louis Malloy         

Janice had become attached to a group for a while, listening more than talking but happy enough until she saw Ella come in. Three men in suits had arrived at the same time, taking a glass of champagne from the table by the door and immediately finding someone to converse with. They stood with perfect poise like polished figurines, but wherever Ella went they remained within a few yards radius.

            It wasn’t just the men. The whole room seemed to tilt in a way which made everyone move towards Ella. Janice resisted, though she knew that she wanted to go too. A few words, just to be called by her first name and asked how she was doing, would be like a blessing. She resisted, but she watched all the time, even when she was drawn into the conversation of her own group. Ella was going around at a perfect pace, smiling beautifully. Janice watched the small mouth, the excellent teeth and the plump pink tongue. The way they all worked together, the top incisors sometimes biting gently onto the lower lip, the tongue briefly visible when the mouth opened to laugh.

            “It’s Ella.”

            The news sang around the group. As if they hadn’t realised it the moment she had walked in. They updated each other with the information which they already knew. Ella worked in London, somewhere high in the civil service. They all knew that. Her name was in the local paper regularly enough and lately in the nationals quite often too. Rising star. Janice read all the articles and she had seen the phrase ‘rising star’ hundreds of times. How could someone in politics be a star, really? However beautiful, however much they were covered in glory and charisma, surely politics didn’t make stars. But as she came towards them, with the young men shining and still drawn along by her, that was obviously what she was. Here anyway. In this room, back in her home town, she was easily a star.

            “Janice.”

            The warm voice. Janice stood as tall as she could and steeled herself. But the warmth!

            “Hi Ellie. How are you?”

            “I’m fine,” said Ella.

She didn’t mind ‘Ellie’. A privilege for Janice. 

“How are you Jan? You look great- you’ve been on a beach somewhere.”

The eyes full of sparkle and wonder. Janice felt herself being pulled in.

            “Just Spain. Minorca.”

            It was a good tan. But next to Ella’s dark skin it was not a tan at all. Ella with warm flesh, deep and golden. If you put a fork in, surely it would drizzle with rich juices.

            “Oh lovely. God I’d love a holiday.”

            This was the way it always was with Ella, managing to tell you so much with so few words. No time for a holiday. Too busy, too successful. And she would never go to somewhere like Minorca, surely. Janice almost didn’t realise that they were still having a conversation.

            “Are you still at the same school?”

            For a moment Janice thought that she was being asked if she was still at school. She could have been, with Ella there, so much more grown-up.

            “Yes. Yes, still at Highfield.”

            “Only you were thinking about applying for a post at one of the city schools the last time we spoke.”

            An excellent memory. Maybe that was all you needed to make it. And the perfect teeth and eyes which you could light up and make into exactly the right shapes so that people liked you or admired you or feared you. Whatever you wanted.

            “Oh yes. Well I was. I probably will, but not this year.”

            Ella had skewered her in less than a minute. Janice hadn’t moved on, hadn’t bettered herself, was nowhere near to making it. Yet nobody listening could have detected anything but kindly interest in Ella’s questions.

            “What about you?” said Janice.

            It was a desperate question to fill up the space, the big gap in ‘news about Janice’.

            “Busy,” she said. “Not enough time to see my friends.”

            Was Janice a friend? She had been, not the closest, but somewhere in one of the outer circles.   

            “London’s exciting though, and the job. Can’t complain.”

            She smiled, showing the wonderful teeth, turning the eyes up to full beam. Then with a skill that Janice couldn’t identify, Ella had moved on and the polished men moved with her. A phrase- ‘lovely to see you’, probably- was like a light voice calling from the other side of the room and Janice wasn’t even sure if that was what she had heard. But Ella had moved on. With such grace.

            Janice was drawn back into her own group and they showed more interest now. What about Ella? What was she up to? Evidently Janice had been treated to a few minutes more of her time than most people, so she found herself showered in a little second-hand stardust. She shook her head a little as the thought came to her. Stardust. It wasn’t show business. Surely Ella couldn’t really be a star.

            One of the perfectly dressed-up men had stayed behind and was approaching Janice. Closer up he was less perfect. Unlike Ella, the expense didn’t go any further than the clothes or the grooming. It wasn’t there in the colour of his flesh or the depth of his eyes. And his voice didn’t have the music to bring you into a new and better world for a while. This man was just dressed-up.

            “Hello. Do you know Ella from school?”

            “Yes.”

            It was going to be a conversation about Ella. About Ella being wonderful.

            “Do you see her often?”

            “No, not now.”

            Had she ever? Did she want him to think she had?

            “Pretty amazing what she’s done. I know everybody’s always saying it, but it’s true isn’t it? A real rising star.”

            “I think she’s risen to a position where we can just say she’s a star, can’t we?”

            Janice was pleased with that. It sounded almost clever. That could play in London and get approval.

            “You’re probably right. Was she always interested in politics?”

            “I don’t know.” It was true, she didn’t. She couldn’t remember what Ella had been interested in, just that she had been good at everything and always on the edge of greater success. “Probably. She was very precocious.”

            “Just academically? Or was she sporty too?”

            “She was in the hockey team.”

            “Captain?”

            “I don’t think so. I’m not sure.”

            The questions had become dull enough to start to run out. But Janice found herself wanting information.

            “Do you work with Ella?” she said.

            “No. I’m a journalist. I’m Max by the way.”

            “Janice.”

            She shook his hand and mentally checked over what she had told him. Nothing compromising at all.

            “So why are you here?”

            “I’m doing a piece on her for one of the Sundays. All above board, don’t worry.”

            He shouldn’t have said that and he shouldn’t have smiled in that open way which wasn’t open at all.  He wasn’t dislikeable but there was a blankness about him which suggested he would go along with whatever she wanted to say. He wasn’t even very good at it.

            “So how long is it since you saw her.”

            The conversation continued for a few minutes, Janice more or less repeating herself, Max not managing to steer the conversation anywhere. They both looked over at Ella, whose face still expressed every emotional turn of her conversations. She did it beautifully and Janice wanted to keep watching her. Probably Max did as well.

            “No skeletons in the cupboard then.”

            It could have been a last clumsy attempt to get something out of Janice, but it sounded too vague for that, as if Max was reflecting on what was obviously true rather than asking a question. But it fired Janice’s imagination. Really Ella should have had a wild time at some point in her youth. What would be good? What would be hard to disprove?

            “Who knows?” she said.

            What would Max believe?

            “Oh yes?”

            He smiled. He probably thought she was teasing. Janice wasn’t sure yet whether she was, but she wanted to make up a story for herself anyway.

            Then everything fell into place.

            Luke Bannerman.

            Ella and Luke Bannerman. Together.

            Luke had been their contemporary, though of course they hadn’t known him. In the previous few years he’d become another big name in the town. Footballer. A good one apparently. Also known for fighting, drinking and screwing and so he too had graduated from the local press to the nationals. Janice had seen him a couple of times in town on a Saturday lunchtime, with some girl in tow. Janice would look at the girl and wonder why she wanted to go along for such a short rough ride.

            “Is there something you know?”

            Max was trying to twinkle. Failing, but he was clearly interested.

            “You know Luke Bannerman?”

            There was no going back now. Now she’d said it, even an amateur like Max was going to hang on for the story.

            “Yes.”

            His eyes were greedy, he wasn’t even trying to hide it. Janice smiled at him.

            Then she told him a tale. No-one could disprove this and Luke Bannerman, though he wouldn’t have much idea who Ella was, would be happy not to deny it if they asked him. A teenage romance. Only a few months. Ella was after the excitement. Luke had plenty of girls but she thought she could change him. Her parents were appalled and she ended up seeing him behind their back. Then she found that he was still seeing other girls and it broke her heart. She cried for a week. Never the same after. Much more drive. Never let a boy really get close to her again.

            “Has she seen him since?”

            “No of course not.”

            What a stupid question. Janice was actually thinking what a ridiculous idea, that Ella would talk to Luke Bannerman again, and had to remind herself that it hadn’t happened, not really. She could picture it so easily though, the cleverest girl at school and the rough lad who was doing well on the youth team.

            “Janice.” Max was murmuring now and all the perfection was gone. “Would you put your name to this?”

            “You mean sign something?”

            He nodded.

            “Something like that. Otherwise it’s just one of those ‘friends say’ things and they never really work. We’d make it just a part of the article. I’ve got other attributed quotes so it wouldn’t only be you.”

            Janice wondered how much of a lie that was. But looking at Ella again, so deeply golden, so full of beauty, she didn’t care if Max thought he was fooling her.

            “And there would be money,” he said. “We can negotiate.”

            Why not? Make it a proper betrayal with no pretence or hypocrisy. Buy  a better tan for herself, some London clothes.

            “Call me.”

            She gave him a card.

            “I’ll call tomorrow,” said Max.

            “Fine.”

            And then they parted as if they weren’t supposed to know each other. Janice returned to her group and stayed with their conversation for a while. More Ella: the crowd still swayed towards her until finally she left, having delighted everyone, having said all that she needed to say. Her men followed her out of the door, standing in the cold evening for a moment before they got into two big cars. Janice watched them disappear down the road which ran by the side of the football stadium. The stadium where Luke Bannerman might be training. He wouldn’t remember knowing Ella, but he wouldn’t remember not knowing her. Ella with her broken heart and the need to get away. Poor, beautiful Ella, who would say that she had never known him, who would insist that she had never been broken at all.