SEEING JORDAN

In town on Thursday an ad in the window of WH Smiths said Katie Price aka Jordan would be there between six and seven signing copies of her first novel. Clearly an opportunity not to be missed so me and daughter went along.
We got there quarter to after buying a sandwich and water in Boots and walked across to Smiths bottom floor which apart from one young man on the tills was empty.
Upstairs a queue wound from next to a table piled quite high with copies of the book near the entrance of the shop through the aisles around the shelves to the top of the stairs the other side of which was a table set for the signing. Behind the table was a display triptych with ‘WHS’ in white on a dark blue background and in front was an area to take photographs from where a line of men standing had cameras with long lenses.
‘I tidied her table,’ one of the shop workers said.
‘Well, I washed her strawberries,’ said another.
It was six thirty when Jordan came out wearing a low cut top and short skirt stood a minute or so posing for pictures smiling holding a copy of the book in each hand close to both sides of her face.
‘Shall I buy a book, you think?’ said daughter.
‘Definitely.’
She did and one of the workers gave her a pink post-it to write what she wanted Jordan to say and who to. We joined the back of the queue.
‘Looks like it’s based on her life,’ said a woman in front of us.
‘Yeh, I read the back,’ I said. ‘And there’s another author as well as her.’
‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I heard it was heavily ghost written.’