by Kitty Wilson
They were cute. She had never seen Angelina as cute before. Pushy, loud, neurotic and, she admitted with more self-awareness than she would have liked, a little like herself, yes. But cute, not so much.
‘It was a good idea – it worked didn’t it? You’re here now.’
‘Hmpf, only because I have the patience of a saint and quite frankly I was so bored of staying with my brother and his ever-increasing crush on that dreary goody-two-shoes.’
‘Hey, I like Rosy, and she’s good for your brother.’
‘She is,’ Marion hissed into the mouthpiece; she didn’t want to lose the romance of the moment as Angelina started to be Angelina. Being nasty about others was never a good look for a wedding proposal. ‘She makes him happy. And you are very good for me and look like you mean it.’
‘She is. She makes him happy. And you are very good for me and…’ Angelina paused devilishly as Marion hoped she wasn’t going to repeat the whole sentence. ‘…I mean it. Which is why I have prepared all of this for you.’
‘You prepared it?’ Chase looked sceptical. ‘I’ve lived with you for two years and at no point have you ever shown any smidge of domesticity. You wound those roses around that?’ He pointed at the Bali bed. ‘And you can skin and gut a fish?’
‘Well I had some help, obviously; I can’t do everything by myself. Do you know how long it takes to look this good?’ She waved her hands down the length of her body.
Chase laughed. ‘Phew, that’s my girlfriend. I was beginning to worry that you had been replaced by some sort of clone. Shouldn’t you have turned the fish over by now?’
‘Oh, sod the fi…’ Angelina stopped mid-sentence.
‘Of course, thank you,’ Marion barked. This woman was her own worst enemy.
‘Of course, thank you,’ Angelina obediently repeated.
‘Now plate up the salads.’
‘Now plate… oh. Here, let’s put the salads on the table.’
‘You made salads, as well?’
‘I did admit to having help.’
‘This is possibly the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me.’
‘Good,’ Angelina purred. ‘I want to be the most romantic, I want to be the most everything. I want to be the best girlfriend you’ve ever had.’ She drew out the e’s in ever and it reminded Marion of quite how young she was.
‘Will you stop going off-script,’ hissed Marion into her mic.
‘Will you shut up a minute,’ Angelina hissed back.
‘Eh?’ said Chase.
‘Nothing. I am the longest and the best girlfriend, aren’t I?’
‘Um, yup. Should I flip the fish and pop it on the plate?’
‘Yes, and I’ll open the champagne – that is something I don’t need any help with.’ She sniggered and Chase chuckled too.
‘You’re supposed to be serving him, not getting him to do the work,’ Marion reprimanded.
‘Oh, hush up, this is the twenty-first century. He likes it.’
‘Hmpf. Do you want my help or not?’
‘Probably not if you’re going to constantly nag me.’
Marion wanted with every cell of her body to rip the microphone off and storm off home, back to central heating, back to her three own boys, back to Richard.
No, not back to Richard, that wasn’t an option any more. But dear God, they said not to work with children and animals, and Marion had experience of both, but celebrities should definitely top that list. Mind you, celebrities may be annoying but they had a lot of disposable income and a huge amount of followers on social media. Two things that Marion’s new business would be very keen on. She made her tone slightly more saccharine and played ball.
‘You are quite right, I’ll pipe down and let you take the lead. Just use the key word, um… windy… when you want some help.’
‘Okay.’
Chase brought the fish over, having placed it upon the plates next to the barbecue. ‘Are you okay? You seem to be mumbling to yourself a lot this evening.’
‘I’m fine. Oh, this actually looks quite good, doesn’t it?’
‘You sound surprised,’ Chase commented.
‘Well, to be honest I thought it was a bit of a shit idea…’
‘I thought you said this was your idea.’
‘Yes… um… it was, it is… um… wind… wind,’ Angelina finished, more than a hint of desperation in her final word.
Marion rolled her eyes before helping Angelina out. ‘So let’s eat our food and then we can… flick your eyes over to the Bali bed suggestively and say… and then I have something to show you.’
‘So let’s eat our food and then we can flick… Oh no sorry, not that bit, let’s eat our food and then I have something to show you.’ Angelina was good at suggestive and from her viewpoint Marion could see her toss her hair and lick her lips. What would look cartoonish on normal people looked perfect on Angelina. It was no wonder she had so many Instagram followers. It also made Marion very grateful she had boys, who as far as she was aware were not currently under any pressure to perfect duckface whilst wearing not much more than a bit of netting and a thong. But then with the world, her world, moving so fast, who knew what the next year would bring?
‘Do you indeed?’ Chase said suggestively, and without being able to see him Marion knew he would be doing his double eyebrow lift.
Marion could see him reach out his hand to cover Angelina’s as they both ate, Chase’s supper – served in an Angelina-sized portion – only taking six bites to finish. Marion shifted her angle slightly and with the light from the torches flickering across his face could see the adoring glances he was bestowing as Angelina pushed her food around her plate, taking tiny Barbie-doll mouthfuls every now and then.
There was little conversation as they finished their meal, or as Chase watched his girlfriend very slowly pretend to finish her meal, but Marion was quite grateful for the time free from thinking and sat back, casting her eyes up to the sky spotted with stars, inky black and stretching into the forever, the unknown. The crash of the waves pulled her back and refocused her on the beach. But even the waves themselves, like the sky and space and far away galaxies, seemed never-ending, reassuringly relentless. Dangerous if disrespected but eternal, there, reliable.
Angelina’s voice jerked her back to the here and now. Good, let’s get this proposal signed and sealed so she could throw the biggest, most showbiz wedding Cornwall had ever seen.
Her friend pushed her plate away and clasped Chase’s hand in hers.
‘Chase Cooper.’ She took a deep breath, a sigh that every romantic heroine of the golden era of Hollywood would have been proud of. Marion forgot that despite all her many flaws, Angelina was a consummate actress. Then she felt immediately guilty. Angelina did love Chase; Marion did believe that. ‘I love you more than… more than… diamonds.’ That, not so much.
‘Wow, and you love diamonds.’ Chase laughed.
‘I do. And you’re about to see how much.’
‘Ooft, that sounds expensive.’
‘You wouldn’t have me any other way.’
‘To be honest there are quite a few ways I like to have you.’
‘Chase, I’m trying to be serious.’ Angelina giggled as Chase rose slightly to lean over the table and give her a kiss, which rather like the earlier one went on a little bit too long. Marion shut her eyes, wishing that she could drown out sound as well.
‘Oh, I’m very serious.’ Chase said and Marion opened her eyes again to see him being gently pushed back into his chair by Angelina.
‘I’ll tell you what, let me come around there.’ Angelina pushed her chair back and walked around the table to sit on Chase’s lap. Marion thought she might vomit.
‘Oh, I like this idea.’
‘You need to listen to me a minute.’ Angelina slipped her hand underneath the table and fidgeted a bit on Chase’s lap. Marion didn’t want to look at her friend’s face; she could only imagine what a wriggling, fidgeting Angelina on you
r lap would do to any man.
‘I can do that,’ Chase remarked in a slightly strangled voice. Marion gave her pal top marks for being respectful. She imagined there was quite a lot more he’d like to do, but she really would prefer he didn’t whilst she was watching from the sidelines.
There was a crow of success as Angelina found what she was looking for and spun on her bottom to look Chase in the eye. Marion had been particularly proud of her idea of sticking the engagement ring under the table with a bit of tape, meaning that it would be hidden from view and the proposal would be a real surprise. No ring boxes saturated as they hid in the ice bucket, for example; no chance of something so expensive becoming buried in the sand for sand fleas and baby crabs to wriggle over.
She was slightly less proud of the fact that Angelina had overnighted herself a giant diamond engagement ring but seemed to forget to buy one for Chase. But when challenged, the blonde superstar had merely pointed out that by saying yes he would have her for life and that was prize enough.
‘So, it’s Valentine’s night…’
‘It is.’
‘And we’ve been together two years…’ Angelina was going off script again but then Marion had suspected that when it came to the proposal she would probably take charge; Marion’s presence was required more for morale than anything else.
‘We have.’
‘And there is no one I would rather spend my time with.’
‘Me neither.’
‘Will you let me get a word in? This is important!’ Angelina snapped as Chase chuckled and then nodded solemnly and silently, indicating that she should continue.
‘I love you, Chase Cooper, more than I’ve ever loved anyone before…’
‘That’s just as well; from what your brother has said, everyone you have loved before has been a nightmare. Oops, sorry, I’ll be quiet.’ Chase raised his hands in an admission of guilt and Angelina gently punched him on the arm. They were quite sweet in a dysfunctional sort of way.
‘As we know I’m not really a traditional sort of girl, and neither do I necessarily follow the rules.’ Chase’s mouth grew wide as he mimed struggling to keep the laughter in. ‘So seeing as I know my own mind, I know how I want the rest of my life to be. And I know that I want to spend it with you. You’re my best friend, you make me laugh and you listen to me, like really listen, and you make me a better person, or so Matt keeps telling me, and we have the best holidays and I really like your taste in everything, cars, food, houses, clothes, me!’
Dear God! Marion buried her head in her hands again, but then she supposed Chase did love Angelina and this was pure Angelina.
‘Chase Cooper, seeing as I have decided that I would like to spend the rest of my life with you and I sure as hell don’t want anyone else to have you, I think the time has come…’ She paused and dotted his face with little kisses. Chase had stopped grinning and looked a little shellshocked, but as Marion squinted she could see that it was a pleased kind of shellshocked rather than a God-help-me-get-me-out-of-here face.
‘…to make an honest woman of me.’ She revealed the ring box in her hand and flicked it open to reveal, as Marion knew from earlier, the biggest diamond ring known to man, which sat sparkling on the velvet screaming ostentatious, conspicuous consumption.
‘Chase Cooper, will you marry me?’
There was a silence for a minute as Chase looked down at the ring box, looked up at Angelina, who was slightly higher than him as she sat in his lap, and laughed, laughed loudly before reaching up and kissing her full on the mouth.
‘Yes, Angelina Masters, yes, I will marry you.’
Angelina squealed with joy and the kissing began again, but only for a minute or two until Chase pulled his head back and nodded at the ring box.
‘Seeing as you’re not a traditional kinda girl,’ he quoted her from earlier, ‘is it safe to assume that this ring in front of me is not for me but for you?’
Angelina nodded excitedly. ‘Isn’t it beautiful? Conflict-free diamonds, you know. See, you’re making me a better person.’
Chase took the box from her hand, removed the ring and looked her in the eyes as he slid the ring onto her finger. ‘Angelina Masters, you have made me the happiest man in the world; I cannot wait to be husband and wife.’
‘Oh no, Chase Cooper, now I’m going to make you the happiest man alive,’ she drawled as she slid off his lap, held out her hand to faux pull him up – he needed no encouragement – and started to lead the way to the Bali bed.
No! No, no, no, no, no!
It was bad enough to have to hear the kissing; what was she going to be subjected to now? Had Angelina forgotten she was here? Of course not, she wasn’t stupid – was this what she meant the other day when she said there hadn’t been a decent celebrity sex tape in ages? Did Angelina expect Marion to record this?
To be fair it wasn’t a bad idea as such. It would certainly push her and Chase’s profile through the roof. The wedding deals they would get would be increased tenfold if Angelina anonymously released an engagement sex video.
Marion had never filmed someone else having sex before; she was fairly sure angles were of paramount importance. Should she crawl closer, make sure that everyone looked as good as possible?
No, that was too much; she could just hold the phone out and keep her head down. She didn’t need to watch it, just film it. A grainy, furtive quality would probably increase its value. She shuddered. This was about putting food on the table – the boys’ clubs did not come cheap and they were used to two holidays a year. She had better bloody well get the best, and she meant the best, recommendation from the shameless Miss-Masters-soon-to-be-Mrs-Cooper for this, she really had.
Her mouth screwed up mulishly as, with reluctance, she pulled her phone out of her bag, clicked open the camera, set it to video and held the phone up in the rough direction of the Bali bed, which now had two beautiful blonde people beginning to writhe upon it.
She pulled out her earpiece; Angelina clearly didn’t need her any more and Marion was dammed if she was going to have this amplified into her ears, especially as she now lived in a world where she may never have sex again.
Holding the phone up, looking down at the sand, she wondered how on earth her life had come to this when suddenly she felt her whole body being lifted through the air, someone’s big sweaty paw on the collar of her coat.
What the hell?
‘What on earth do you think… well, fuck me, Marion Marksharp, you dirty little hussy. I always suspected as much.’
‘Put me down!’ Marion said forcefully, aware that Angelina and Chase had stopped what they were doing as she stood there, now upon her own two feet, glaring at Hector, the man who had found her filming from the sand dunes.
Chapter Seventeen
Richard tossed and turned in the hotel sheets. It was a very nice room but it wasn’t his; his was currently occupied by his wife, whose behaviour was becoming increasingly bizarre by the minute.
He had assumed a simple chat would have resolved all the misunderstandings and he’d be curled up back in the marital bed, happy in the knowledge that at some point early in the morning Rufus would jump upon his torso and peel his eyelids back to see if he was awake. Enhanced interrogation professionals could learn a thing or two from his youngest son.
But alas, this had not been the case. Marion was immovable, like a very stubborn mountain but icier, and it was apparent that she did not believe him when he protested his innocence. Which was ridiculous. He was a one-woman man and with that woman being Marion he was quite frankly too exhausted to even contemplate taking on another. He adored his wife and, having seen how devastated his mother used to be by his father’s habitual playing away, he had always vowed never to behave as his father did with extra-marital shagging being his number one hobby.
It seemed particularly unfair that he was now tossed out of his house for a crime he did not commit, did not even consider, whilst his father had happily got away with doing w
hatever and whomever he wanted for the whole of his adulterous life.
However, it wasn’t just the unfairness of this that was keeping him awake now. It was this evening that was bothering him.
Marion had been very mysterious about where she was going and he’d had high hopes that she was attempting to send a message by being out somewhere else on Valentine’s Day this year, less than a week after she had claimed their marriage had disintegrated beyond repair. He had hoped she may be parked up in a layby somewhere, reading a book or plotting future world domination, or even sobbing a little bit about the state of their marriage and wishing they could sort it out – he never wanted Marion to be sad but any remorse over their current situation would be helpful right now.
Either way he’d imagined that she would eventually return, having punished him enough, and he would have got to spend a pleasurable evening with his boys before she returned home, punishment served and relationship, hopefully, resumed.
It had appeared that every part of that belief had been a little optimistic. As far as the boys were concerned, it would appear something called Fortnite was far more compelling than he was. Although all three of them had been pleased to see him at first, the novelty dimmed some point soon after they had persuaded him that Valentine’s Day was expensive, that Mummy had left them with barely any pocket money at all and his wallet had been opened and emptied.
He had then been left on the sofa all alone with nothing but a stream of romantic movies playing on the television, an over-sized dog trying to lick his ear and video games making his boys completely audio-impaired.
When Marion had returned home, he’d reported back on how the boys were faring; she had barked something about how he wasn’t a babysitter, he was their father, how his friend Hector was in the village and how sometimes the bloody beach was overrated before storming up the stairs and shouting down to him that he’d better return to Treporth Bay as she didn’t want him setting a bad example to Darcy by sleeping on the sofa.
He had stopped in the hotel bar to have a glass of whiskey before he headed to bed in the hope that it would help him sleep and forget the thoughts that had been spinning around his head since Marion had walked back into their house.
