Model Boyfriend

by Jane Harvey-Berrick

  Damn! What a way to end a final—definitely one for the record books.

  Nick jogged over to congratulate both of them.

  “Alright, put him down, Grég,” he laughed. “Congratulations, guys. Bren, you’d better go and call Anna because she’s already mad at missing today, and when she finds out that Grég proposed, too…”

  “Oh my God! Where’s my phone? I need to call my little Anna-banana! I need to talk wedding suits to someone who’ll understand.”

  Brendan laid another smacker on his fiancé, then jumped back over the barrier before the security lost their patience.

  Then he turned and yelled at Grégoire.

  “Future husband? What about those lucky Speedos?”

  Grégoire laughed and smiled as he yelled back.

  “I’ll give you these later if you play your cards right!”

  Brendan held his hands over his chest in the shape of a heart and mouthed silently, I love you.

  THAT EVENING, NICK celebrated the win with his teammates, but he knew that for him the game was truly over. He wasn’t injured, he was still fit, but he knew the sport had lost its spark for him, even with the success they’d had as a club, the great fans, living in a beautiful country. He was the Captain and he’d been playing great all season. There was nothing wrong, but it didn’t feel right, not without Anna.

  Nick sighed as he looked around at his celebrating teammates. It wasn’t where he wanted to be. He wanted to be at home with Anna and the babies. He wanted to smell their amazing milky baby-smell; he wanted to watch as she fed them, held them, changed them, watched them sleep.

  He knew that he’d been searching for something this sport couldn’t give him anymore, but at least now he knew what it was that he’d been trying to find: peace, a purpose. In one way, he was captain of a new team: Anna, Ruby and Phoenix. Huh, maybe vice-captain—Anna was the one in charge.

  He hadn’t spoken to any of his teammates except Bernard. Nick knew that his friend didn’t really understand. Bernard had chosen to continue his career in rugby even after he would no longer run onto the field as a player. And from the outside everything in Nick’s life looked great: Captain of a successful French side, winners. And all in his first season—from a rugby perspective it couldn’t have gone any better.

  But inside, he knew that he’d lost his passion for the sport he’d loved for so long.

  But that was okay.

  Because he knew where he was supposed to be.

  THE WHOLE OF Carcassonne had gone crazy. There was a full weekend celebrating, an amazing festival with music in the main square, and a topless bus took the team around the town with the trophy on display.

  The Mayor congratulated the team, presenting Nick with a plaque that said:

  Nick Renshaw

  La Flèche

  Son of Carcassonne

  And the dates of his victory.

  It was a great end to Nick’s career.

  But the part he was looking forward to the most?

  Going back to London to be with Anna and the twins.

  Fourteen months later…

  THE SCORCHING JULY sun soaked into them as Brendan, Susie Scott, Nick, Anna, and their extended family arrived at the small airport.

  Anna and her mother were each carrying a twin, for now sleeping soundly, exhausted by a day of travelling. Brendan and Nick pulled their luggage off the carousel at baggage reclaim, with Brendan high on pure relief that his suitcase was there and that his wedding outfit hadn’t been lost.

  Nick listened to the description of Brendan’s suit, shirt, thread count, cut and tailoring with a small smile on his face as they piled their luggage onto an airport trolley, then finally found where their rental car waited for them, an eight-seater minibus, child seats included.

  “Oh God, I love weddings,” Brendan chattered. “I’m just not sure I’ll enjoy this one. I mean I will, obviously, and the Best Man’s speech will be awesome,” and he shot a bright look at Nick. “I just want to get to the part where I start enjoying it.”

  Nick and Anna exchanged an amused look. After fifteen months of guarding the twins and watching them grow into healthy, chubby babies, they’d finally begun to relax into parenthood. The home routine was run like clockwork—although perhaps a little less so when Nick was left in charge—and Anna’s mother had been an enormous help, moving in for the first, difficult weeks, then staying to enjoy her grandchildren.

  Nick’s parents made the journey from Yorkshire at least once a month, and Trish sometimes came with them, as often as she could be pried away from her new boyfriend, a single father who’d accidentally rammed into her with his shopping cart at the supermarket.

  Nick had enjoyed his final weeks of playing rugby for the Cuirassiers, even more so when they won the Championship Cup beating every other team across the whole of France in their league.

  But Nick had been very ready to be a fulltime dad back in London, and occasionally a part-time model. Offers were still coming in, but he was far more choosy about which projects he said yes to, only working with photographers that he liked and admired—and didn’t take him from home for too long.

  He’d also published his behind-the-scenes portfolio on his new website to a positive response, and was considering how he might take that interest further.

  Besides, being a father was wonderful, better than he’d ever dreamed, but also tougher and more exhausting. He and Anna were both very ready for a holiday.

  The Greek island of Santorini basked in the afternoon sun, the air vibrating with heat. The landscape was rugged, with jagged, towering cliffs, and small villages clinging to the steep mountainsides, the whitewashed square houses glittering like sugar cubes.

  The beaches were stark and beautiful, made from black sand, the remains of an ancient volcanic event thousands of years earlier, with the deepest blue Aegean sea sparkling all around them.

  Nick felt a deep sense of peace as he drove slowly across the beautiful island, even Brendan’s incessant nervous chatter was soothing, and he smiled as Anna’s laughter pealed out.

  The twins were already seasoned travellers with trips to the south of France, Yorkshire, and twice to New York. Although he’d learned early that every extra pair of hands was a huge help.

  He’d also learned that they could both be soothed when he played them his guitar, especially Ruby, the feistier of the two twins. It became a standing joke the amount of luggage they seemed to take everywhere.

  Nick pointed the car north, driving past sun-blasted fields, formal rows of vines, stunted in size but abundant in grapes, steadily climbing higher, until he reached the elegant white façade of the Hotel Grace, perched overlooking the ancient volcanic basin, the caldera.

  Brendan was out of the car in a second, bouncing with excitement.

  “Oh my God! It’s even better than in the brochure! I can’t wait! I wonder if Grég is here yet. Has anyone seen him?”

  But the first person they saw was Bernard, strolling toward them in shorts, loose shirt and flip flops.

  “Mes amis! It’s good to see you. I have missed these little rascals!”

  And he scooped Ruby into a hug, making her squirm and cry with indignation.

  “Back to your mama,” he said, hastily handing her to Anna.

  “Where is everyone?” Brendan asked.

  “By ‘everyone’ he means Grég,” Anna said drily.

  “Ah, the boys took him into the town to celebrate,” Bernard smiled. “I offered to wait here for you. Besides,” he said, “I prefer the solitude.”

  “Didn’t Madeleine come with you?” Anna asked, referring to Bernard’s infrequently seen wife.

  “She’s in the spa,” he said with a wave of his hand.

  “And Rémy?”

  Bernard sighed.

  “He is with his grandmother in Sèvres.”

  Nick didn’t comment. He knew that Bernard’s marriage was rocky and that if he wanted to see his son, he had to travel to Paris. Madel
eine had originally followed Bernard to London when he went to play for the Finchley Phoenixes, living there for three years until she became pregnant and insisted on moving back to Paris. She refused to uproot her life again to live in Carcassonne. She’d visited once in all the time that Nick had been with the Cuirassiers.

  Nick thanked his lucky stars that Anna was different.

  Carefully, he unhooked his sleeping son from the minivan’s childseat and placed a kiss on his damp forehead. Out of the two of them, Phoenix was the quiet twin. His sister was always awake first, first to cry with hunger, first to grow bored, first to need attention. Phoenix would sit with a smile on his face and dribble on his chin, happily playing with his bare toes, as if they were a great mystery.

  Feeling the intense heat on the back of his neck, Nick grabbed a tiny, white sunhat and pulled it over Phoenix’s head, watching the small frown smooth out again, his sleep uninterrupted.

  A porter stepped forward with a luggage cart, and loaded up all their bags as they checked in.

  The hotel was full of rugby players, their families or significant others, including Russell and his very glamorous girlfriend Natascha; most of the Cuirassiers; Grég’s parents, brother and sister-in-law; and Inoke who was flying solo. Even Jason Oduba had flown out for the ceremony, bringing his new fiancée with him. He and Brendan had bonded at the hospital when Anna had first been taken ill.

  All of the hotel’s twenty-one rooms were full of wedding guests, including a beautiful villa that stood a little away from the main hotel. Brendan and Grégoire had splashed out and taken that for themselves.

  “The Honeymoon Suite?” Anna commented, as they were shown to their rooms.

  Nick grinned at her.

  “Pretty nice, hey?”

  Stunning was a better word. The wide balcony gave them a view down the steep mountainside to the deepest blue sea beyond. The white curtains fluttered in the breeze, making the heat bearable.

  “Oh my God! Look! We have a little plunge pool!” Anna sighed. “That’s it. I’m moving from London with the twins.”

  “What about me?” Nick laughed.

  “You can come if you promise to change all the diapers.”

  “I thought I did that anyway,” he muttered into his beard.

  Anna pretended not to hear.

  Then they heard a small commotion outside as a bus full of half-drunk rugby players pulled up in the hotel’s courtyard entrance.

  “I think the boys are back,” Anna remarked. “You want to go say hi? I’m going to nap with the babies.”

  Nick looked torn, and Anna smiled at him.

  “We’ll be here when you get back. Say hi to Grég for me—and keep an eye on Brendan.”

  Nick smiled, kissed her on the cheek, then placed a gentle kiss on each of the twins before heading out.

  Two minutes later, just as Anna was drifting to sleep, drugged and drowsy with heat, there was a soft tap on the door, and her mom stuck her head inside.

  “You can go with Nick if you like. I’m always happy to watch these little ones. They do the cutest things.”

  “Thanks, Mom, but I’m fine to lay here and do nothing. Want to join me doing nothing?”

  “There’s nothing I’d like better than doing nothing with you.”

  The two women stretched out on the balcony’s sunbeds, shaded by a wide umbrella, glasses of water sweating on a small table.

  Anna closed her eyes again, a small smile on her lips.

  “Happy, honey?” her mom asked.

  Anna’s smile deepened.

  “Yes. Completely.”

  “Nick seems happy, too. Calmer. He’s a good father.”

  Anna opened her eyes and beamed at her mother.

  “Yes, he is. He’s much more laidback than me. I’ll probably be the one who has to say ‘don’t eat dirt’, and ‘no dating until you’re twenty’, that sort of thing.”

  Her mother laughed.

  “Yes, probably.” She paused. “You’re good together. You make a great team. I’m happy for you.”

  Anna smiled.

  “That reminds me of something I said to Nick once: we’re stronger together. I know life isn’t always straightforward, but being apart didn’t work for us.” Then she looked at her mother. “What about you? Are you happy?”

  Her mother’s smile faded a little.

  “I’m content, yes. Seeing you and Nick together is wonderful, and spending time with these precious ones…”

  “But you miss Dad.”

  Anna finished the sentence for her.

  “I always will, honey. But that’s the sign of a great love. We had 35 wonderful years together. I don’t regret a single day of them.” She sighed. “But I wish he could have met Ruby and Phoenix.”

  Anna squeezed her hand.

  “I know, Mom. I know.”

  THAT NIGHT, THE whole wedding party dined together, then lazed around the stunning infinity pool, watching the sun sink into the Aegean, the waters turning a darker blue and finally black, as lights twinkled in the villages below.

  Grég was tossed in the pool fully dressed by Nick and Bernard, ignoring Brendan’s scandalized shriek about the designer linen pants he was wearing, then most of the guys jumped in, too, and Anna sat with her feet dangling in the water, smiling at their antics.

  As evening turned to night, the guests drifted away in ones and twos, until only a few of the hard-core drinkers were left behind.

  Susie had retired to her room and the twins were sleeping soundly in their cots, so Nick and Anna took advantage of the rare reign of peace and made love in silence, the sounds of muffled laughter from outside floating upward in the warm air.

  ANNA FELT NICK’S warm lips on her bare neck.

  “You look beautiful.”

  Her cheeks turned pink. A compliment from her man could still make her blush.

  She touched her hair self-consciously. The hairdresser organised by Brendan had arrived early, and had effortlessly sculpted Anna’s shoulder-length hair into an elegant chignon, a set of tiny, white flowers woven into the design.

  Her dress was knee-length, a foamy sea-green cluster of tulle floating around her legs, and a sweetheart neckline of lace.

  Her bouquet was resting on a damp cloth in the bathroom.

  She lifted her eyes to Nick, the breath catching in her throat as she took in the easy elegance of his navy three-piece suit, crisp white shirt and dark neck tie.

  His shoes were polished to a high gloss and his long hair was tied back, showing his sharp cheekbones and beautiful smile.

  “You look very spiffy, Mr. Renshaw!” Anna said. “You could be a model.”

  Nick winked at her.

  “We are a spiffy couple, Dr. Scott. Ready to go to a wedding?”

  A loud wail interrupted them.

  “Oops, Ruby sounds annoyed. I’d better go rescue Mom.”

  Anna hurried to the adjoining room where a slightly frazzled Susie was trying to convince Ruby to wear her little ballet slippers that matched the adorable white dress with the lacy hem.

  Phoenix was wearing navy blue shorts with a white short-sleeved shirt and bow tie. He was staring with puzzlement at the little blue shoes on his feet.

  Ruby was still yelling her head off so Anna picked her up to calm her.

  “Mom, let her go barefoot. She hates wearing shoes when she’s hot.”

  “Barefoot, really?”

  “Trust me, it’s better than her screaming all through the ceremony.”

  “Well, if you think so…”

  “Can you pop them in your purse in case she changes her mind?”

  Anna’s mother smiled.

  “It’s a good thing my purse is the size of Texas! You were never this much trouble!”

  Anna shrugged and gave her mother a grin.

  “Mom, she got your clotheshorse gene—you only have yourself to blame. You sure you’ll be okay twin-wrangling?”

  “Of course, but if it gets too much for them, I’l
l take them to the pool for a swim instead.”

  With everyone organised, Anna retrieved her bouquet of tiny red roses and white gypsophilia, and headed to the villa where the wedding ceremony was taking place: Brendan’s wedding to Grégoire—the unexpected but much anticipated match between the English drama queen and the French athlete, a man of exotic good looks and few words.

  Anna was happy for them. One day she and Nick would get married, but today was not the day.

  Muscular and dapper rugby hunks in designer suits lined the chairs, protected from the fierce sun by a gauzy canopy, decorated with small sprigs of local wildflowers.

  Nick and Anna waved at Grég’s family, whom they’d met the night before, and scanned the rows of familiar faces, friends and teammates. But two chairs at the front were empty, and Anna’s heart sank. She looked at Nick and he shook his head sadly.

  They left Susie with the twins, and went inside the villa to find Brendan.

  As soon as he saw them, he raced forwards, biting his lip.

  He looked slender and handsome, dressed in a close-fitting reddish-maroon suit, with white shirt and white silk tie, a tiny corsage of miniature red roses pinned to his lapel.

  “Annie, did they come?”

  The half-hopeful look on Brendan’s face was enough to break Anna’s heart.

  She exchanged a look with Nick, whose stern expression said so much.

  “No, honey,” she said gently. “They didn’t.”

  At that moment, Anna hated Brendan’s parents. He’d given them so many chances, offered countless olive branches, but his mother had never once stood up to her overbearing husband, or stood up for Brendan. Their neglected son had bought them two first class tickets to Santorini, and had reserved a luxurious room at the boutique hotel, but the empty seats outside were a testament to their callousness.

  They hadn’t come to his wedding. They hadn’t even sent a message.