Swap With Me

Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO 

Scott stood at the operating table, the powerful overhead lights focused on his work, a nurse either side of him, the anaesthetist doctor at the patient's head. The steady high pitch bleep of the heart monitor in the background. This was Scott's domain, his environment, his team. He took a final look at his work, nodded at the junior doctor opposite to sew the incision. Scott stepped back.

He walked over to the wash area, took off his pale green gown, his face mask and cap, to throw them into the laundry container. Next door, in the locker room, Scott changed into his Savile Row suit, and put on his tie, a Saint Laurent silk from Paris. He was well aware that his appearance must be one of success and professionalism, the hallmarks of an up-and-coming top surgeon. Even though he was only thirty years old, Scott was ear-marked to become a huge success. It helped, of course, to have good looks; dark straight hair, cut slightly too long to touch his collar; and a six foot tall frame that looked fit. It also helped that he played golf and it was on the golf course where friendships were cemented. Contacts with other surgeons, GP doctors, hospital management, and anybody who could further his career. His socialising off the golf course was part of the game to succeed, which meant spending time to network with people.

He glanced at his watch. The TAG Carrera indicated he had just enough time to meet two medical friends at the Ritz for tea.

He would have to hurry, checked his tie in the mirror and with a quick pace he strode down the corridors and out of Guy's Hospital to hail a passing taxi.

-O-

Emily sat in the waiting room of an office opposite the Royal Academy of Arts in Piccadilly. She had been to the Ladies Room to apply sheer lip gloss, deodorant and perfume. A flutter of excitement went through her stomach at swapping with Jessica to attend the modelling interview. Jess had said, wear something smart but casual, so Emily had chosen a single button blazer in light blue jersey over a plain white shirt, with tight black trousers.

Emily was collected by a secretary and shown into an office with a large table of garments and drawings, a desk, and chairs. The room had a big window with plenty of natural light. Two men and one woman greeted her. It became obvious that one was the photographer, and the woman was the stylist, which left the second man as the assignment director. While Emily stood, the three looked through Jessica's portfolio of photographs and discussed various issues among themselves. Emily paid no attention, except when she was told to go behind the screen in the corner of the room and change into her swim wear. 

Two minutes later, Emily emerged. 

'The short man said, 'alright. Turn round. Face the front. Walk slowly to the window and back.' More discussions took place between the other three people. Another question came from one of the men, 'do you do magazine work?'

Emily wasn't sure what that implied, but she remembered Jessica's request that she would do any work. Emily simply said, 'yes.'

'Take your top off please.' The statement had come from the short man. 

Emily thought about saying, f*ck off, but she reasoned there was a woman present, so it must therefore be a reasonable request. She unclasped her bikini top and stood while the three examined and discussed her figure. She felt her nipples go hard because the room had a slight chill. Inside herself, Emily was furious for having the two men ogle her, who might also assume her protruding nipples were due to something other than the cold.

'Okay. Thank you. You can get dressed,' one of them said.

And seven minutes later she stood on the pavement outside, wondering whether to turn right or left. There had been a certain thrill in foxing the others into thinking she was Jessica, even though Jessica's photographs had been scrutinised, but they still had no idea of the swap. Emily concluded it was a freaky experience. She needed to sit down with a drink. To the left, on her side of the pavement, stood the ornate hotel of the Ritz. Emily opted for that, as a source for a cup of tea, and walked towards the entrance.