‘And then she just got up there and put the rest of the band to shame!’ Justin’s telling the guy serving us at the kebab shop. ‘And she isn’t even a professional drummer!’
‘It’s not my passion,’ I say. I did get into it for a while when I was dating Zane, but now my passion is photography. ‘It’s fun, but it’s not what I want to do with my life.’
‘Not her passion!’ Justin says. ‘Not what she wants to do with her life. Yet she can play like that. Crazy talent.’ He shakes his head as if he can’t quite believe it.
After the server hands us our chicken kebabs (with extra garlic sauce for me – I’m so relaxed now in Justin’s company that the pickled onion Monster Munch debacle feels like a distant memory, so I load up on my favourite kebab condiment), I let Justin walk me home. We idle through Camden centre, chatting, eating and laughing. It all feels so easy and natural, like we’ve known each other for years. All too quickly we arrive at Jay’s flat. I turn to him.
‘I had a great time,’ I say honestly. I really did. I had the best time.
‘Me too,’ Justin says quietly.
I tilt my chin up, the universally acknowledged silent signal for inviting someone to kiss you. Justin lifts his hand up and tucks one of my curls behind my ear. He leans his face towards mine. Damn, he smells good. And he looks even better up close and personal. Our lips are almost touching, I can feel his breath on my face, and then he goes still. Suddenly he’s pulling back quickly, as though he’s just remembered something.
‘I – I have to go now,’ he says quickly, not meeting my eyes.
‘Oh!’ I say, my heart sinking with disappointment. What’s wrong with him? Do I have garlic sauce on my chin? Mascara gunk in the corners of my eyes? Have I completely misread his signals? It wasn’t just me flirting the entire night, I’m sure of it. Oh God, it was my breath, wasn’t it? I ate about sixteen TicTacs after the kebab as well.
‘I’m – uh, I’m sorry!’ Justin says, backing away. ‘I’ll call you!’
‘Oh!’ I say again like a lemon. I’m so confused. ‘Okay. Bye, then.’
‘Bye,’ Justin calls over his shoulder, already halfway down the road.
With a frown, I hurry inside the flat and upstairs to Jay’s, immediately checking myself out in the mirror.
No sauce on my chin. No mascara gunk in the corners of my eyes.
I sigh, caught between the conflicting emotions of elation at what I thought was an incredible night, and confusion that Justin didn’t quite feel the same way despite all the signals saying otherwise.
Because I like him. And I’ve not felt like that about anyone in a very long time. Oh, boy.
Chapter Twenty-two
‘You’re not doing it hard enough! I like it very hard! Don’t you understand? Do you even speak English?’
Nicole was not impressed with her masseuse. She’d been coming to this luxury spa for years, and they had recently had a change of management. She would have to make a complaint before she left. This simply wasn’t good enough. On the massage table next to her Seffy was groaning in delight. It was embarrassing.
‘Shhh!’ Nicole scolded. ‘You sound like you’re having an orgasm.’
Seffy’s face popped up from the hole in the table. It was pink and a little sweaty. Seffy went a little pinker as she thought about what she had been imagining. There was no way she was telling Nicole that she’d been imagining that it was Daniel who had been massaging her back so tenderly.
‘Were you thinking of my brother?’ Nicole asked.
Seffy startled. It was unnerving how intuitive Nicole was.
‘No!’ Seffy lied.
‘Good. Because that would be totally inappropriate.’
Seffy neglected to mention the inappropriateness of Nicole assigning her to seduce Daniel in the first place. Not that it was going particularly well. She had been sending him flirty texts and even some lingerie shots. His replies had been polite at first. But now they’d tailed off and he barely bothered to acknowledge them any more.
Seffy had told Nicole that she hadn’t been able to get anywhere with Daniel. With a sigh, Nicole had declared that Daniel was too besotted with that piece of trash to take any notice and instead they should focus on their plan with Justin to extract damaging information from Rebecca’s sister. Because it had to be there. Everyone had secrets. If Justin was successful, not only could they prevent Daniel from marrying Rebecca, but Nicole was certain that they could take down Rebecca – who was getting way too big for her boots with all of this attention in Nicole’s opinion – and her little runt of a sister.
Seffy disagreed. She didn’t say anything to Nicole, of course, but she was convinced that Daniel’s replies had become less frequent because he didn’t want to arouse suspicion as he figured out a way to escape Rebecca’s clutches. Perhaps she should send him a full boobs and vag pic later? Or maybe it was time to change tact and be there for Daniel as a friend. He’d seemed so tense the past few times she’d seen him.
‘Daniel seemed quite tense when we saw him at that book launch. Do you think Rebecca’s having a bad effect on him?’ Seffy asked.
‘Maybe,’ Nicole said. ‘But he’s under pressure at work, too. According to Dad he’s not having an easy time of signing up this new account.’ She sighed. ‘I could get that account with my eyes closed.’
‘Poor Daniel.’ Seffy said. Maybe she should send that nude pic. It might cheer him up.
‘“Poor, sweet Daniel,”’ Nicole said mockingly. Why was her brother everybody’s favourite when she was clearly the only Balfour child with any balls?
When the massage was over, the girls showered and changed into their bikinis, ready for the private champagne Jacuzzi. They would be meeting Justin to get an update on how their plan was progressing.
When Justin arrived, he looked slightly uncomfortable at the choice of venue. He wasn’t a fan of spas in general and champagne Jacuzzis were a little wanky for his taste, but it was for Nicole so he’d have to get over it. And he couldn’t deny that seeing her in a bikini was always a treat.
‘Tell us everything,’ Nicole announced when they were all submerged under the warm bubbles, sipping from their champagne flutes. ‘What did you find out?’
Justin grimaced slightly, wishing he could swap the champagne for a Peroni. ‘I’m afraid not much. I tried talking about her family and asking questions like you wanted. But she kept changing the subject.’
Nicole sighed. ‘Changing the subject. That’s a sure sign she’s keeping some secrets. How long were you with her for?’
‘Until about 1 a.m.’
Nicole frowned. ‘And you got nothing? What on earth did you talk about?’
‘We just, you know, hung out,’ Justin said. ‘She seems, I don’t know, nice.’
Seffy shook her head. ‘She is not nice.’
Justin took a sip from his glass, looking deeply uncomfortable. ‘I just mean, I feel bad conning someone like this. I – I thought I could help you out, Nicole, and you know I’d do anything for you, but this situation just makes me feel crazy uncomfortable.’
Nicole necked the rest of her champagne. This was not good. Justin having an attack of conscience after only one night with that girl? And it wasn’t like Martin the paparazzo was coming up with the goods either. She’d been paying him to keep an eye out for anything shady, but according to Martin all Rebecca did was work, go to the gym, shop at the supermarket, see her sister and spend the rest of the time at home. What a bore! She needed to convince Justin to keep seeing Lizzie for a little longer. She was certain that there was something the Ashworth girls were hiding and she needed to find out what it was.
Nicole swam across to the other side of the Jacuzzi and pressed herself against Justin. Yep, this would work. She could feel it working already. ‘Seffy, babe, did you have somewhere to be?’
Seffy nodded quickly, catching Nicole’s stony look. She was glad to get out of there – she hated Jacuzzis. They were too hot. And besides she
needed to get a wax and a spray tan before sending her nude pic to Daniel.
‘Yeah! Totally!’ she said, climbing out of the water and making a hasty exit.
When she’d left the room, Nicole took a deep breath and made her eyes go watery as though about to start crying, a skill she’d been using to her advantage since she was a child. ‘I didn’t want to tell you this because I didn’t want to worry you. I know how you worry about me.’ She dropped her voice and gazed up at him with her eyes wide open, ‘But . . . Lizzie Ashworth is a bully. She attacked me, physically attacked me for no reason at Daniel and Rebecca’s engagement party.’
‘What?’ Justin said, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. ‘Are you sure?’
That didn’t sound like the girl he’d spent last night with. But Nicole had never lied to him before – and she looked so upset.
‘She has a violent streak. And I’ve been on the receiving end of it. The Daily World got wind of it and there’s an article about the whole incident online.’
‘Holy shit,’ Justin said, shaking his head. He’d never have guessed the sweet, funny girl from last night would be capable of attacking another person.
Nicole nodded solemnly. ‘That’s why I need to find out about that family. I’m just so afraid of my brother getting involved with people like that. He’s so sweet and gentle. What if they hurt him?’
‘Maybe you can talk to Daniel directly?’ Justin suggested. ‘Surely he’ll understand your worries.’
Nicole fought down the surge of anger that was rising up. Why couldn’t he just do as he was told? Where had this sudden spurt of wilful personality come from? Trust him to develop a backbone now when she needed him. She rested her head on his chest for a second and then pulled away. She reached behind her and untied her bikini top, letting it fall into the water. Justin’s eyes widened and she heard his breath hitch.
‘Maybe just go out with her one more time,’ she said, her voice low and soothing.
Justin nodded dumbly as Nicole reached under the water for him.
‘Get a little tipsy with her.’
‘Mm-hmm.’
‘Maybe kiss her, make her think you like her. She won’t believe her luck.’
Justin wrapped his arms around Nicole’s neck, dumb with lust. He both hated and loved that Nicole could do this to him. He’d felt so confused when he’d woken up this morning, thoughts of his night with Lizzie running through his mind. He’d genuinely had fun with her and he couldn’t deny that he’d been attracted to her, her soft curves and big smile. So different to Nicole’s slimmer frame.
Nicole.
He thought of how close he’d come to kissing Lizzie, of forgetting why he’d been there in the first place. Because of Nicole. She needed him to help her brother and he’d forgotten himself for a moment, but he wouldn’t do that again. Especially now that he knew the truth about the kind of person Lizzie Ashworth was. Nicole was all that mattered now. He reached for her and pulled her in for a kiss.
‘Just spend one more night with her?’ Nicole asked, kissing his neck. ‘For me?’
‘I don’t know,’ Justin said, though definitely less forcefully than before. ‘It doesn’t feel good.’
Nicole put her hands down Justin’s swimming shorts. ‘Does this feel good?’
‘Hmmm.’
‘Do you want me?’
‘Yes.’
‘You’d do anything for me, right?’
Nicole pushed her bikini bottoms down and wrapped her legs around Justin’s waist, and she knew she had him. He was under her spell and he’d do anything for her.
‘One more time?’ he said, kissing her fiercely.
‘And then I’m all yours,’ Nicole lied. She already had her eye on a German prince who had just arrived in London. But Justin was useful for now. And as he spun her round so her back was against the Jacuzzi wall, she couldn’t deny that he was excellent in the sack.
Chapter Twenty-three
Becky
I’m at the Vogue offices. A magical, fairytale place I never dreamed I’d get to visit in my life – much less visit for a photoshoot and interview for a double-page spread. I’ve said no to everything I’ve been offered up until now but how could I give this opportunity up? Nerdy, lonely, bookish fifteen-yearold me would never forgive Today Me. All those days spent flicking through the pages of this fashion bible, admiring those sophisticated, beautiful women and how they seemed to have their whole lives in order. This really was a dream come true for me.
Vogue sent a car to pick me up this morning at 8 a.m. I was whisked over to the location of the shoot in Mayfair and taken immediately inside one of those huge trailers for hair and make-up. It was like something from America’s Next Top Model. A guy named Cristof washed, dried and styled my hair into the biggest quiff I’ve ever seen. I didn’t know my hair could get so . . . aggressive. I’ve had a facial treatment, my nails painted in a cherry-red and cool, stark make-up, all liquid eyeliner, pale skin and crimson lips – very Marilyn Monroe. Out on the set there are around twenty people milling about and I can’t believe they’re all here because of me. The photographer had me posing with classic books in the most beautiful parts of Mayfair. The stylist had me wearing starchy white shirts, vintage Chanel jackets and tight, tight jeans from the hottest young designers. The overall look was a beautiful juxtaposition of classical and modern vibes and it worked perfectly – I mean of course it did, it was Vogue. I’ve never felt more glamorous, if a little embarrassed: this was hugely out of my comfort zone and I’ve never really been a natural in front of the camera. But as the time wore on I got into the swing of things a bit more. Although I could have done without the members of the general public walking by and gawking to see what was going on. That made me feel like a dick – especially after one woman remarked: ‘I don’t even know who she is?’ Argh, I’m no one, I thought to myself, just a very lucky book editor getting to fulfil her teenage dream for the day.
After the photoshoot – which is much more tiring than it looks on America’s Next Top Model – a different but equally luxurious car came to pick me up to whisk me back to the Vogue offices, which is where I am now, being interviewed by one of their features writers – a lovely woman called Cassie.
But as glamorous as I feel and as overwhelming as this whole experience is, something else is on my mind. Something far more overwhelming than this entirely surreal day which means the smile on my face isn’t quite reaching my eyes. The email from my mum is running through my mind. It was unexpected and uninvited, and even though I only read it once, and deleted it straightaway, every word of it is burned onto my brain.
Bexy!
My gorgeous. How are you? I saw in the papers you were getting married. To a Balfour, no less! I’m ever so proud of you. I always knew you were the clever one. Moving on up in the world, aren’t you, petal?
I’ve been thinking a lot about the past recently. I feel it’s time to make amends. What do you say, poppet? I’m in London for a little while and would love to visit you and meet this man you’ve managed to catch. It would be nice for you to have your old mum at your wedding, wouldn’t it? It certainly sounds like it’s going to be quite the lavish affair!
Maybe it’s time to put the past behind us and focus on the future!
See you soon, beauty.
Mum xx
I’m trying to concentrate on the questions Cassie is asking – about how Daniel and I met, how it feels that one of the UK’s most eligible men has picked me, what my go-to moisturiser is. But all I can think of is Mum. Tracy Ashworth in London. Is she even still using Ashworth as her surname? Maybe she remarried. Oh, God! What if she’s had more children? Lizzie and I could have a half-brother or sister we know nothing about.
Oh, Lizzie. I haven’t told her or Dad about the email. How can I? She would usually be one of the first people I call if something big or significant happens but I can’t tell her about this. I can’t. She doesn’t remember as much of the rowing and slamming doors as
I do. Dad and I protected her from a lot so she doesn’t know how bad it really got before she left. How the silences and tension between Mum and Dad were worse than the fighting, or how Dad cried himself to sleep every night for months after Mum walked out. He doesn’t know that I know that, but I could hear him. And he’s so happy now, with Jill. He’s found love again and I don’t want to bring everything crashing down with the news that Tracy is sniffing about. She hasn’t shown any interest for all these years and all of a sudden she’s all over me? You don’t have to be Miss Marple to see what’s piqued her attention, do you?
Daniel was wonderful when the email came through. There aren’t many men who wouldn’t bat an eyelid at their fiancée crying in the middle of Nando’s into her sweet potato mash. But he didn’t care who was looking, he just comforted me until I was ready to talk. When I’d calmed down I asked what it was he wanted to talk about but he said he’d forgotten. I’m sure it’s nothing but there’s a small part of me that wonders if that was the truth.
‘Are you quite all right, Rebecca?’ Cassie asks, her thick-framed glasses perched on her nose, pen poised, expression concerned.
I pull myself together. ‘Oh, yes, sorry. Just zoned out for a moment.’
Cassie smiles. ‘I quite understand. You have so much going on at the moment, wedding, work, newfound fame. It must get a little overwhelming at times.’
‘Yes.’ I nod. ‘It can be. But I have a great support system.’
As I say the words, I feel the weight of the truth behind them. I am lucky. I have Daniel, Lizzie, Dad, Lauren. These people love me and I love them. I realise I’ve been busy lately and I do feel a bit of distance between me and Lizzie at the moment but once the wedding is over, things can get back to normal. I vow to make more effort with Lizzie in the run-up to the wedding too. I’m no fair-weather sister. Sisters before Misters, after all.
But right now I’m at Vogue and I need to focus on this interview. So I lift my chin, force the tumble and jumble of stresses and questions out of my brain and turn my attention to presenting my most professional, polished self to Cassie.
My Sister's Wedding: For better or worse, two families are about to become one . . . Page 15
