Younger Thinner Blonder

by Sue Watson

  The others had moved quickly, desperate for a real bed and when Ardash and I entered the foyer together, everyone had gone. Wordlessly I walked to reception and picked up my keys, walking slowly up the thickly carpeted stairs, not sure what would happen next. I felt him behind me, following; surely he could hear my heart beating through my body? What was I thinking? At my door I hesitated, turned to see his face and though my head told me different, my heart said this was the right thing to do. I opened the door.

  It was dark and, still groggy from the previous night and the long bus ride, I was aware of his hands around my waist, then without a word, his mouth was on mine. I pushed the door closed with my foot and let go, kissing him back, my lungs filling with...love? lust? I didn’t know, and didn’t care. I could barely catch my breath and had to pull away. The eyes meeting, the hand on my back, the rush that coursed through my body whenever we’d talked; I was giddy and scared and yet I’d wanted him so much for so long I couldn’t wait and pulling him back towards me, we staggered to the bed. Falling in a heap we carried on kissing. He tasted of the city, past and present, tourist scent and native spices, for the second time that night I felt on the edge of the world. I tried to focus but everything was misty – I knew tomorrow when I was alone I would want to remember every minute detail. I wanted to take this memory out and look at it on cold, grey days back home, studying every second of my short time with him and reliving it again and again. Tomorrow he’d be gone, but the night would stay with me forever.

  Afterwards, as we lay in a tangle of warm limbs and high-count cotton, the worry butterflies began to flutter in my chest. This was so wonderful, so perfect, why did it have to happen now, just as I was about to leave? A well of tears suddenly flooded up through my chest and into my eyes, my head rocked with a heavy aching. Ardash looked alarmed.

  “Tanya, Tanya...” his voice, like the honeyed Nepali sunset, “you are OK? Please don’t cry.”

  “It’s just…too much beer…at the party” I tried to be flippant, to laugh it off. But he saw through me.

  “Tanya, beer doesn’t make you cry. It makes you happy. Why are you so sad?”

  “Oh...I don’t know, Ardash. So much has happened these past few weeks. I don’t know who I am any more, I wish things could stand still...here...tonight.” I was now in full blubbing mode, wiping at my damp face. I picked up his shirt, still lying on the bed and put it on to comfort myself.

  “Tanya, my English rose” he said, his voice husky, his hand brushing mine. My heart almost stopped.

  He was being so kind and gentle it made me sob more. “I’m not an ‘English rose,’ I never was. I’ve never been good enough and now I’m old and wrinkly and...” at this I heaved out more sobs.

  He looked so confused and he was so kind and gentle. He was giving me a compliment and I’d thrown it back in his face. I was so stupid. Then I just thought sod it, and kissed him. His lips were warm, his skin stubbly as his eager tongue searching through my half-open lips. I felt him growing hard again as he pushed me back onto the bed, pulling open the shirt and caressing my breasts.

  We rolled together on the bed, kissing and moving as one. Making love that second time was even better, I felt braver, more sure of myself, more sure of him. He gasped and we came together in a rush of heat and lust.

  GOSSIPBITCH: Whose reported five-figure sum deal to write a tell-all book on their former boss has just been cancelled? Her win in the Himalayas has turned the tide and no-one is buying negative stories on the Queen of the Mountains...

  33

  The Twisted Permutations of the Spa Trek Queen

  We must have drifted off to sleep, lying together in each other’s arms. We stayed there for the rest of the day and all night, exhausted and happy. I was woken from this blissful slumber by the loud trill of the telephone.

  “Hello?” I said sleepily.

  “Sweetcakes, it’s me. While you’ve been sleeping, your agent’s been working her balls off. Get your ass into the lobby, OK magazine are here!” Donna yelled down the phone.

  “OK magazine? Why are they here? What...?”

  “For you, my little Spa Trek Queen, all for you. Oh and they want a piece of the tasty trekkie too, so bring him with you.”

  “But...Donna, no. I’m supposed to be going back home today...”

  “Oh, but honey they wouldn’t take no for an answer. Those journos are rapacious and at the mere whiff of a little ‘Tanya on trekkie’ action, they’re offering big bucks. They said they’d fly over as soon as the show was finished and do a fabulous shoot with you. I rearranged our flights last night when they confirmed. Everyone knew you would win my love – the whole country was holding its breath.”

  “Why would they want to do a piece about me?” I asked, confused.

  “Because, my little Drama Queen, the ‘will she, won’t she’ has been keeping the viewers gripped all series! Highest ratings ever, they tell me. Better even than Jordan and Peter in a hammock together on I’m a Celeb...”

  “What a high bar!” I gasped, sarcastically, feeling the familiar annoyance and irritation at Donna’s mad bookings. “Ardash and I are nothing like Jordan and Peter! And what do you mean, will she, won’t she?”

  “Will she see the love rat for what he is or go ahead with a tragic showbiz wedding? Will she hook up with the trekkie who is crazy about her or will she ignore his big brown eyes and taut biceps and run off with the gold-digging sex addict? So many twisted permutations, my little femme fatale. Anyway, the flights home have been moved to tomorrow. OK are in the lobby now and you and the trekkie need to put in an appearance, pronto. Wake him up.”

  “He’s not here...” she didn’t answer, she knew. There was no point lying to Donna, she always knew everything. “Anyway, what would you say if I told you I don’t want to do this anymore, Donna? I’m not interested.” I said firmly.

  “If you told me that, I would say it’s not a request, sugar-bee. You are homeless and hungry and it’s a done deal – that is what I would say. You’re not in a bargaining position, so don’t take retirement just yet.”

  I glanced at a sleeping Ardash and didn’t answer, so she tried a different tack. “And just think what that money could do for the trekkie and his favourite orphanage. Not to mention the fact that you need to get your career back on track – you are currently poor and that’s not good for you or Mama Bear. So I’ll see you in five?” and without waiting for an answer, she banged down the phone.

  I looked across at Ardash again and marvelled at how gorgeous he was, sleeping peacefully. I gently shook his shoulder, reluctant to wake him and allow real life into our bubble.

  “Ardash, we have to go downstairs. There’s... Well, there’s a magazine company that want to take our picture.” I didn’t mention the fact there was also a rampant talent agent who would eat him for breakfast and spit him out if he refused.

  He opened his eyes and looked at me. “Magazine company? For what are they taking the picture?”

  “My agent says that people in England are very interested in you.” I said, watching him. “And me. You and me. She also says they’ll pay for our photos, enough perhaps to buy something for the orphanage.”

  He sat up. “That sounds good... They need a water tank, so if you wish, Tanya Travis, I don’t mind having the photographs for a tank.” And he smiled his beautiful smile.

  I jumped into the shower, silently cursing Donna for putting me in this awkward situation. Ardash and I had grown close on Spa Trek, but it was early days to say the least – no romance had blossomed until yesterday and I was feeling very confused. I pressed my head against the cold shower tiles as the water gushed over me. One thing I did know was how much I had enjoyed last night and how much I didn’t want it to end. I wanted to help the orphanage get their water tank, and I wanted an extra day with him – even if it did involve a magazine shoot and a large dose of Donna.

  Ardash and I arrived in the white marble lobby half an hour later. I looked around for
Donna and suddenly she appeared, in a full-length kaftan, pearly lips, hair all bouffant.

  “Good morning lovebirds,” she twittered, striding towards us on enormous wedges.

  I glared at her. “Donna, I’m really not sure about this,” I said, taking her to one side, away from Ardash. I sat down next to her on a seat in the lobby, I had to talk to her properly, make her see beyond the ‘big bucks’ and ‘great offers on the table’.

  “I don’t know what is going to happen with Ardash, but I do know that the last time I spoke to a magazine about a relationship, it didn’t end well,” I started.

  “Look, you can’t win ‘em all, honey,” she said absently, checking her Blackberry. “All that matters is that OK are paying six fabulous figures, and you need every single one of ‘em.”

  “I’m giving the fee to the orphanage.”

  She went pale. For once she was speechless.

  “Donna, I don’t think all this is me anymore” I said.

  “Honey, I told you there’s no choice; you have to take that fee if you want somewhere to live when you get back to Blighty. And as for saying ‘this isn’t me’, it is so you... You’re Tanya Travis and I will get you back on top, I promise. You’ll have another fabulous home and all the designer gear you can...”

  “What good is a fabulous home and designer clothes? I had a kitchen I never cooked in but worried about keeping clean. Clothes lined up in shades in my wardrobe that I wore only a few times. I can see now how little I did, how empty and superficial it all was. I don’t need it and I don’t want all the crap that went with it.”

  “Sweetie” she said in a low, quiet voice. “Don’t think I’m not impressed by your sudden prioritising of global welfare over Prada’s latest line in cruise-wear, but it’s a simple equation. If you want to eat, you have to work. The only work you know is being Tanya Travis – and unlike other people, you don’t have the luxury of changing your job. You ARE your job, your job is being a celebrity, so please, just do this. Once you are back in Britain, I promise you, all those things will be important again. This place has disturbed you... Jeez, you’re so disorientated kiddo, just listen to Mama and all will be fine.”

  I opened my mouth to reply, but a team of people burst through the hotel doors and swished towards us, all smiles and cameras.

  “Hi, hi, hi! I’m Chloe,” said a rather glamorous, long-legged redhead in strappy maxi dress and wedges. “And this is Toby our photographer and Tim his assistant.” We all said hello and sat down to outline what would be happening over the day.

  “Now, guys I’m sure you have your own utterly fabulous clothes but we also have the latest pieces I’d like to put you in.,” She said, batting huge fake eyelashes at us both. “They are on trend but still in-keeping with the whole ‘Indian’ thing.”

  “Nepal...she isn’t India.” Ardash said.

  “Oh, really? Never mind, these pieces are soooo gorge it doesn’t matter where they’re from... and India’s around here somewhere, isn’t it?” She waved her arm around like India was just to the left of the reception desk. I groaned inwardly, this was just the sort of thing I didn’t want to have to deal with any more.

  “Now Tanya, we have some deelish saris and Ardash we’ve got THEE most darling loose pants and sweet little Arabian Nights separates,” her voice squeaked as she held out her hands in a delicate gesture like she was describing baby clothes. We both nodded and smiled. Ardash seemed bemused. He was sitting next to me, and I kept thinking about the proximity of him and how easy it would be to slip my hand into his, the thought of which gave me little jolts of electricity.

  “Ooh, you two look so good together,” Chloe oozed.

  “Gorgeous couple,” agreed her nodding assistant, “happy too.”

  “Happy? They’re delirious... she’s damp with anticipation about their future together,” interrupted Donna, staggering across the foyer in those impossibly high wedges having ordered herself a ‘proper’ drink at the bar. “Coffee’s for pussies,” she hissed at me as I gave her a warning look.

  “Right, let’s begin!” said Chloe brightly. “Come this way!” she commanded, getting up and leading us through the hotel and out into the stunning gardens.

  “Wow, this is lovely,” I said, taking in the bright, turquoise pool framed by lush greenery, all set against a breathtaking back-cloth of snow-capped mountains.

  Donna staggered around, shouted ‘gorgeous’ a few times, ordered herself another drink, a jug of Martini for everyone and took to a sun lounger to observe. I knew my agent well and it would be a matter of time before she added her distinctive brand of running commentary to the proceedings. As we took in the view, the stylist arrived, trailing wafts of tulle fabric in her wake.

  “Hey, you guys,” she said in a trans-Atlantic accent. “I’m Fenella. Can I get you on the loungers?”

  Ardash and I did as instructed and sat on adjacent loungers. We smiled awkwardly at each other and waited for Toby the photographer to start snapping. Chloe was wafting her hair and Fenella was wafting fabric around us, muttering to herself as she wrapped swathes round me and draped some over Ardash.

  “We can’t get too close... Culturally, it’s not acceptable here,” I said to Chloe, eyeing the fabric suspiciously. Toby was already snapping.

  “Put your right leg over his and your hand on his chest,” he instructed.

  “Oh I don’t think...” Apart from the cultural aspect, it was one thing having sex in the privacy of my hotel room, it was another wrapping my leg around him and clutching at his chest for several million readers of OK.

  “Honey, you know you want to,” came the voice from the sun lounger. Donna leaped up and strutted across the tiled floor, three sheets to the wind on Martinis and having slipped into her poolside lounge-wear of mini kaftan and turban, was looking like a 70’s Tupperware housewife.

  “Tanya, don’t be shy...”

  “Thanks Donna. I’m just working out how to do this with dignity, and without offending a whole nation,” I caught Ardash’s eye and we both giggled, embarrassed.

  “Is this OK with you?” I whispered, as Fenella instructed us to get closer together.

  “Ah, no... it is not good Tanya... My family would die from the shaming, but they will give us the water tank yes?”

  “Yes, I will no doubt die from the shaming too but let’s just lie back and think of the water tank.” I smiled, burrowing my face into his neck.

  The shoot continued on for another hour and 57 minutes with Chloe suggesting several intimate poses neither of us would agree to. She finally reluctantly conceded we could sit close and look into each other’s eyes instead. Toby was re-lighting and I was just relaxing into this when Donna screeched; “Oh Tanya, you don’t have to hide it, everyone knows you’re both crazy about each other honey... Let’s do the kissing shot next, Chloe?”

  I got up from my seat, fighting off the tulle ‘bondage’ and marched over to her. “Donna, will you please keep out of it? God, you won’t be happy until I’m straddling his naked body in the hotel lobby wearing nothing but a bloody bindi...”

  “No-one would ask you to do that... yet... Mmm, naked you say...a bindi? Now you’re talking.”

  I shot her a filthy look and she avoided my eyes by popping her oversized sunglasses on. Chloe motioned for us to go upstairs and my heart sank. What the hell had Donna promised these people?

  * * * * *

  Once upstairs, we refused Chloe’s first request to take everything off and get in the hot tub together. She made a few urgent, hissed calls to London and eventually asked Tim the photographer to shoot some soft-focus photos of the two of us in the bedroom, while muttering about ‘contractual agreements’ and ‘unscrupulous agents’. We stood by the window in flowing robes, looking out at the mountains, on the balcony at sunset with drinks and of course, on the bed. Through all this, I dared to think about a life with Ardash and how wonderful it would be to wake up with this funny, wise, gentle man each morning and live a perfect, si
mple life.

  The bedroom scene opened with me, Ardash and a hundred-weight of rose petals but in true Hollywood fashion, he kept one foot on the floor. We looked into each other’s eyes and though we didn’t actually touch, I swear the air sizzled and sparked around us. Without Donna’s presence I felt myself relaxing against him, giggling with him, throwing my head back with laughter at everything he said and undressing him with my eyes. He was looking at me all the time and when they were all busy checking shots on the monitor and exclaiming about how ‘sick’ the photos were, his fingertips reached out and touched mine secretly. Everything in the room stood still – like the world had stopped and we were totally alone. I looked at his mouth, knowing I would kiss it later, my eyes swept over his slim hips, longing to caress his firm, muscular chest through the white linen shirt he was now wearing. And I wanted it all.

  By sunset, the shoot was over and Chloe and the crew headed off for the nearest bar.

  “As it really is my last night tonight, I thought it might be nice to eat here at the hotel,” I said to Ardash as we strolled through the hotel lobby. “Would you like to join me?”

  Tonight was my last in Nepal and I wasn’t going to share Ardash with the city or Donna or even strangers in a bar.

  “That would be good,” he said; “I like to spend the evening with you Tanya. I will be sad when you leave.”

  Not as sad as me, I thought, looking beyond the restaurant area out onto the twilit pink mountains, the deserted pool.

  We wandered into the restaurant and I ordered a simple salad. Ardash ordered a rice dish and as we ate, we talked about the shoot and I dared to ask about what might happen next.

  “What will you do now the show’s finished?” I said, spearing lettuce with my fork. I wasn’t hungry; my stomach felt like lead, the lettuce tasted like wet paper, I just wanted him. I didn’t need food.