Read Acting Up for Free Online Page B

you're a dead woman.
    Mo.
    Excellent! It had only taken one year. Mo must be using the one staff computer. Maybe one of her four-year-olds had showed her how it worked. She started tapping.
    Gold star!! Ten out of ten!! Etc!!
    Jazz.
    PS. What's for dinner?
    Then she tried to concentrate. Another bleep on her computer. Bloody hell. She double-clicked.
    AARRGGH!! I've worked out how to use the e-mail. I'm so excited, I can't write any more.
    Write back NOW. My address is Maureen-Harris @loughborough.co.uk. But if you ever call me Maureen to my face you're a dead woman.
    Mo.
    Oh dear. She'd write back and then she'd start her work.
    Mo hon, you just sent me the same message twice. You've managed to do what some people can never do. Be boring on e-mail.
    Love, Jazz.
    Another bleep. Mo again.
    I know I sent it twice. I didn't think you were listening the first time.
    PS. It's your turn to cook tonight. I cooked last month.
    Jazz smiled. Thank God for modern technology.
    Maddie had finished reading the papers. She was now standing up, sorting through her filing tray.
    'Mark, your 100 Things You Didn't Know About Wicked Willy piece is outstanding.'
    Jazz saw Mark grin widely, his eyes warm with pleasure. 'Cheers, babe.' He winked at her.
    'No, Mark,' said Maddie. 'It's outstanding . It's late.'
    'Oh. Yeah. Well, you see, there's a bloody good reason for that.'
    'Yes?'
    'Bloody good . . .'
    Maddie and Jazz watched him try and get out of this one.
    Jazz's phone rang. 'Bloody hell, I can't get a thing done,' she muttered before picking it up.
    'I'm going to do it,' said a voice that sounded as if it was in a mangle.
    'Do what?'
    'Chuck Simon, like you told me,' said George almost inaudibly.
    'Jesus,' whispered Jazz in awe. 'When? Where?' For the first time she realised that a single George was as unknown territory to Jazz as it was to George herself.
    'Do you think that blond bloke at the audition really liked me?' asked George.
    'I'm sorry, I fail to see the significance,' said Jazz in her favourite pompous tone.
    'Never mind,' answered George. 'Will you come round tonight? We can talk tactics.'
    'Of course,' said Jazz sincerely. She just stopped herself from saying, 'It will be my pleasure.'
    'Thanks,' whispered George.
    'We'll be nasty about Simon together,' promised Jazz. 'It'll be fun.'
    'There isn't anything nasty to say about him,' said George pathetically, remembering his broad shoulders and forgetting his broad rump.
    'Oh, I'm sure we'll find something,' said Jazz. 'I seem to remember he only has one eyebrow. I always meant to ask you if it goes all the way round his head.'
    Jazz could hear her sister smile. 'See you tonight,' she said.
    Jazz put the phone down and started her piece. Title – Taking Control . She finished it forty minutes later, and then read the dailies.

4
    The doorbell rang at number 5, Winchester Road, Hampstead and Sara Hayes took a last look at herself in the gilt-framed mirror.
    The doorbell rang again and she went to answer the front door. She smiled at her welcome guests.
    'Hello, popsie,' she said to Maxine and the two gave each other air kisses. The affection bordering on gratitude that Sara felt for her new confidante, Maxine, was as much to do with the fact that she was married, as it was to do with the fact that she was unquestionably less attractive than her. Next to Maxine, Sara looked even more stunning. Happily, Maxine's fondness for Sara was based on her friend's amazing good looks and daring single lifestyle. Next to Sara, Maxine didn't feel so married and dull. Nothing bonds some women together more than their differences.
    'Charles!' exclaimed Sara as warmly as she could to Maxine's husband, whose shoulders sloped at such a sharp angle she wondered that his blazer didn't fall off.
    Expensive wine was handed over and surprised delight expressed. Then they all went into the lounge, where the lights were dimmed and some carefully selected dinner jazz was playing quietly in the