by Nigel May
Victoria sat bolt upright, a spasm of pain leaping through her side as she did so. It caused her to wince. ‘Oh my God, what did he say?’
‘He was horribly unapologetic. He said the romance had gone from your marriage and that he was having to “re-evaluate the balance of his marriage and work out exactly what he was getting out of it”. Once a banker, always a banker, eh? He said not to worry about the kids as “Chloe had everything in hand”. I wanted to tear his head off to be honest, but it’s not my place, is it?’
Victoria could feel her blood boil. ‘Everything in hand? Yes, like his cock for one thing.’ Victoria’s words were inappropriately loud, causing a young woman lying on the next sun lounger to her to look up in shock. Victoria smiled at her awkwardly. She was sure she recognised her from somewhere, but couldn’t quite place her.
Lowering her voice she continued. ‘Did Scott mention the D word?’ She mouthed the phrase in a whisper, aware that they could be overheard.
Evie sat up to face her friend. ‘Divorce? Yes, he did. He seems pretty adamant to be honest. He told me about coming home to find the twins crying their eyes out and about when you burned Leo’s foot. I don’t know what’s been going on, Vic, but you have to put the children before everything. You’re so lucky to have them and nothing should stop you from putting their welfare first.’
Victoria knew it was true.
Evie’s phone vibrated. ‘Will you just excuse me, Vic? I need to get this. It’s the film company. They’re probably wondering when I need the jet to take us back. I’m thinking another couple of days at least, aren’t you? I think my fatigue might be a little more crippling than I first thought!’ winked Evie.
Evie walked off leaving Victoria to contemplate her life back home. The twins would always be her priority but as for Scott … she really wasn’t sure what emotions she housed for him anymore. Did she want to fight for his love in order to save their marriage? Could she trust him again? Could he really end their union just like that? Was their marriage as disposable as a burnt match? And did he want to be with Chloe? Too many questions and for now, in her blurred state, not enough answers. The thought of trying to seek the solutions made her brain ache, but this was one symptom that could not be relieved with a chalky white pill.
The pain in her side was still stabbing. She reached down into her bag and tried to locate her painkillers. In her hurry to leave the house the day before she had just remembered to grab a blister pack at the last moment. The pills weren’t there.
‘Shit, where the fuck are they?’ Again her words were unnecessarily loud given the serenity of her surroundings and the woman alongside her glanced up inquisitively. Victoria curled her lips in an attempt to smile.
Unable to find the pills, she grabbed her room keys from her bag and walked back towards the hotel.
As she was walking through the lobby she heard a voice from the far side of the room. It was hugely familiar.
‘If you’re after the ultimate body pamper then you could try the Turkish soap brush massage for deep down cleansing, or maybe a diamond dust body peel. And for those who don’t want to spend hours lounging around in the sun but still want that dazzling, dynamic healthy looking glow then why not give into the delicious temptation of the Bronceador DHA 100% natural bronzing system. If you’d like to win a weekend here thanks to Rise and Shine then all you have to do is answer the following question …’
‘And cut …’ Another voice rang out.
Not that Victoria was listening to the second voice, that of the man behind the camera. She was engrossed by the American twang of Charlie Cooper as he filmed his piece to camera. He was wearing an open-necked shirt and a pair of thigh-hugging shorts. Victoria’s eyes were immediately drawn to his crotch again. God, he looked good.
All pain seemed to miraculously disappear from her side as Charlie spotted her and called her name across the lobby, a broad smile spreading across his tanned face. Victoria felt her knees wobble as he revealed a set of perfect white teeth and jogged over.
‘Well, look who’s here. How are you? We must stop meeting at hotels around the world. First India and now here. People will talk.’ Charlie chuckled while Victoria heard her brain silently scream ‘let them’.
He kissed her on both cheeks and Victoria was suddenly conscious of her own appearance. Did her hair look okay? Why did she have to bump into him when she was make-up free? Did her flouncy blouse/sarong combo show her off in a flattering light? Thankfully Charlie, ever the flirt, answered her question for her.
‘You look great. Nice to see you on the mend. You had us all worried. How are you feeling?’
‘Er, I’m f-fine,’ stammered Victoria, suddenly strangely nervous and worried that her cheeks would colour at her lie. She figured that telling him she’d tried to commit suicide the day before wouldn’t be the best poolside patter.
‘So what are you doing here?’ enquired Charlie. ‘Treating yourself to a few days of QT? You here with your husband and kids?’
Scott was another subject she preferred to gloss over. ‘Just a couple of days. I’m here with Evie Merchant. She thought the sun would do us both some good.’
Charlie’s smile seemed to spread even further. ‘You are kidding me. Evie’s here? It was on her recommendation that I came here. She told me about this place when I interviewed her and I told the TV bosses that we should try and run a competition for the viewers to win a trip here. I’m filming a comp slot VT today and then interviewing some soap starlet tomorrow in the Salt Cave.’
Victoria suddenly placed the young woman she’d smiled at earlier. ‘So, you’re here till tomorrow, then?’ Victoria’s mind was strangely alive with images of herself and Charlie sipping a cocktail in the candlelit glow of a hidden poolside cabana or indeed of a shirtless Charlie sharing the delights of the resort’s famed Salt Cave with her.
‘Yes, so if you’re around tonight for a drink, then maybe you, me and Evie can get together. Saves me hanging out with Darren the cameraman. Nice guy but I think he wants to hit one of the island’s gay clubs anyway.’ Charlie motioned to the muscled, tattooed man who had been pointing a camera at him moments earlier.
‘That would be fabulous. I’ll let Evie know. I was sorry to hear about all of the Mitzi business in Mexico by the way. Seeing the explosion and everything. It’s heartbreaking.’
‘But it wasn’t Mitzi. The body in the wreck was a man. The authorities phoned Georgia. We’re all completely stumped now as to what’s been going on.’
‘But, that makes no—’
Victoria’s words were interrupted as Darren, the hulk on the Rise and Shine camera called across to Charlie. ‘Charlie, love, we have a lot of things to get in the can today, so we’d better crack on.’ His voice did not match his frame.
‘Shit, I’d better go, but I’ll see you both later, okay, and we can talk. Great to see you. Really.’ He kissed her on the cheeks again and jogged back over to a waiting Darren, smiling at the knowledge that Victoria was doubtless checking him out.
His cockiness was justified. As Victoria watched Charlie move away, the firm mounds of his backside jiggling slightly within his shorts as he ran, the pain in her side seemed to creep back over. So did the girlish feeling that maybe Scott wasn’t the man she wanted to spend her life with after all.
Sixty-Three
The name of his agent hadn’t popped up on his phone for a while, so to see the words Rachel Jerome actually appear on his mobile screen for what seemed like the first time in an eternity, took Aaron completely by surprise. What with all of the drama with Devon and Tanya and the fact that he had severed his only form of financial income by quitting his job, all thoughts of pestering his agent for work, sensible though it would have been, had become lost in a sea of wallowing discomfort and the constant tears of his Russian lover. Ever since he and Tanya had walked out of the Bellamy family home, Tanya had been inconsolable.
More by default than as the result of any real planning from either party, T
anya had more or less moved into Aaron’s Chelsea apartment, which in theory should have been a dream for Aaron. None of the recent sordid revelations about her chequered past had done anything to dilute his feelings towards her. In fact, if anything, her newly witnessed vulnerability was beginning to make him feel that maybe she had a softer, more loving side nestled up against the sexual tiger. Not that they had really had a chance to discuss anything in any great detail. Tanya had spent days crying into her pillow, unable to cope with her recent fall from grace. Love-making between them had become non-existent, their once fiery passion extinguished by the tears. Aaron, still just a simple hapless bloke in so many ways, was unsure what to do. As so many men had probably reasoned before him, he decided he would have to let Tanya speak to him when she was good and ready. And her tear-stained cheeks and red-rimmed eyes suggested that it may be some time yet.
Which was why Rachel’s phone call had come as a welcome relief, the phone sounding as he cradled a sleeping Tanya in his arms. Leaving her to doze, he prayed that Rachel might have good news about the pilot show in America, his thoughts immediately crossing the Atlantic to his glorious time in the Californian sunshine. Maybe that would be just what he and Tanya needed. A new start in a new time zone. Money would be flowing in the land of plenty, surely?
But to Aaron’s disappointment, Rachel’s news was not about a potential yellow brick road to Los Angeles. ‘Still a big jar of silence on that one. Fear not, news will come.’ Aaron immediately hated the way that Rachel could be so glib about something so potentially life-changing to him.
‘Are you chasing them?’ he asked, his tone heavy with setback.
‘Darling, you cannot airbrush Hollywood. It does what it wants when it wants. Those telly execs will be phoning I am sure, but in the meantime you have the chance to impress one of them on this side of the pond. I hope you’re looking good as I have a photo shoot for you.’
‘Not another teeny-tiny hot pants one for some men-only magazine I hope?’ said Aaron. ‘Those shorts were so tight they were cutting off my circulation.’
‘Don’t knock it mister, being a gay icon is a very lucrative thing. Bag yourself a decent calendar shoot and we’ll be doing mucho-moolah signings in every pink bar from here to Blackpool’s Golden Mile. Look at Ben Cohen or that ridiculously handsome Mark Wright. They’re hardly ever dressed in anything more than a snug-fit pair of underpants these days, darling. And the gays love it. There’s a lot to be said for a heaving chest and a pair of ass cheeks so firm and pert you can rest your Margarita glass on them.’
Aaron had zoned out. ‘So what is the photo shoot?’
‘Well, I’ve had Jacob Chevalier on the phone. Lovely man, straight to the point. Reminds me of a male version of me. He’s one of the people deciding your fate. Which is why it’s super exciting that he called me. He and Nova are here for Evie Merchant’s charity bash, which I know you’re going to, you lucky man.’
‘And?’ Aaron was impatient for Rachel to cut to the chase.
‘Jacob’s organised a photoshoot for Nova at The Pavilion Fashion Rock ‘N’ Roll Hotel in Hyde Park. It’s one of the funkiest hotels in London. Everybody has shot there. Mario Testino did the most marvellous shoot there for British Vogue.’
Mario who? thought Aaron. The only one he knew was that plumber bloke from the computer game.
Rachel was on a roll. ‘The rooms are themed. It’s the most amazing place. There’s Casablanca Nights, Indian Summer, Honky Tonk Afro, Enter The Dragon, Cosmic Girl … they’re all decorated to perfection and the names have queued up to be seen there – Naomi Campbell, Daft Punk, David Blaine, Leonardo DiCaprio, Kelly Brook …’
At last, names that even Aaron had heard of. Kelly Brook was hot.
‘And now they want you, darling! Jacob has hired some of the rooms for a day’s shoot, styling Nova in different ways. Like a Bollywood queen for the Indian Summer room, all metallic and spacy for the Cosmic Girl room, you get the drift, and she has requested you as her male model. Apparently you left quite an impression on her. Seems you have buns that leave a good impression on the ladies, too. I’ve confirmed and sent them your sizes. It’s tomorrow, a 9am start and five grand for the day. I take it you have no plans to dig up weeds tomorrow or anything equally as … er … horticulturally tragic.’
Despite his annoyance at her condescending tone, at five thousand pounds for the day and the chance to work alongside reality TV goddess Nova Chevalier, Aaron could have been planning to win the Chelsea Flower Show the next day and he would have rearranged. This was too good an opportunity to miss. And the cash would come in very handy. He would need to look his best. He hung up the phone, scribbled a note for a still sleeping Tanya and headed to the gym.
‘If you could just open the waistcoat a little further so that we can see your nipples, Aaron.’
As days went, the shoot at the hotel had been particularly surreal. Aaron had started the day stripped to the waist, smeared with silver paint and dressed in foil trousers. This had been for the Cosmic Girl shoot where Nova had been dressed as some sort of slutty Barbarella, her fulsome breasts barely contained underneath the merest wisps of strategically placed silver ribbon. This had been followed by a turn as a 1970s hippy complete with flares, beads and Peace, Love and Understanding accessories as he writhed against a mini-skirted Nova along the vibrant lime green furry walls of the Honky Tonk Afro room, which came complete with its own glitter ball. And now, as he approached his eighth hour of shooting, Aaron was dressed Aladdin-style in voluminous harem pants, an open waistcoat and a genie’s lamp clamped to his hand. Sharing the bed with him in the Indian Summer room was Nova dressed as a scantily-clad genie. It was the final of the three set-ups arranged by Jacob and production assistant, Sarah, who was watching from the corridor outside with Nova’s stylist and make-up artist.
The hotel room was jewel-box bright and an exotic mix of crystal lanterns and coloured glass. The tiny bathroom’s walls were an edge-to-edge mosaic of smashed mirror. It was a heady assault on the senses and an experience that Aaron was enjoying. There was something he found incredibly refreshing about the Super Nova team and he hoped that Jacob was impressed. Maybe it would help him bag the acting job. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed that maybe moving to LA could be the answer to everything. There was a happiness about the sunshine state that he found infectious.
It was a question that he couldn’t resist raising as he sat in the hotel lobby area with Nova, Jacob and Sarah after the shoot.
‘I’ve loved today, and I have to say thanks to you guys for making me feel so welcome in LA. I have everything crossed for the pilot show job. Any idea when a decision might be made?’ Rachel may have told him that you can’t airbrush Hollywood, but surely you could still give it a hint of a tint to hopefully shade it in your direction, given the opportunity.
It was clear though that Jacob was not yet prepared to comment. ‘Not as yet.’ It would take more than a gentle oiling from Aaron to lubricate this particular wheel into action.
‘I hear you were fabulous though,’ said Nova. ‘I am sure Hollywood will be seeing more of you at some point soon, Aaron. You were the perfect model today and when the network see just how hot you look in the photos they’d be foolish to turn you down.’
Aaron could feel a smile spread across his face from ear to ear.
‘Not that we can promise anything, of course,’ followed up Jacob.
Aaron’s smile disappeared. Even if the signs were good, Jacob was definitely trying to remain professionally tight-lipped.
‘Well, you have my vote, Aaron,’ said Nova, sipping on her gaudy coloured cocktail. That last shot with you as my dashing Indian prince will definitely persuade the bigwigs with the money that Super Nova should do a few shows over at the Taj Mahal.’
‘For what it’s worth, you have my vote too.’ It was Sarah the production assistant who spoke, staring directly at Aaron as she did so. She took a mouthful of champagne with more than a hint o
f suggestion as she completed her sentence. It wasn’t lost on Aaron who felt a stirring in his trousers. Thankfully it hadn’t happened when he had been wearing the harem pants. At least his jeans could keep any unwanted erection from growing.
‘Thank you. So how long have you been working for Mr and Mrs Chevalier, Sarah?’
‘How hideously formal,’ piped Nova. ‘You make us sound like a couple of extras from Mr Selfridge.’
Ignoring Nova, Sarah answered the question. ‘Er … just a few months. I worked with the previous production assistant …’ There was another awkward moment’s pause.
‘Sarah worked with poor Addison,’ stated Nova. ‘I trust you heard the awful news about her, Aaron. Such a waste of such a young beautiful life.’
Aaron had indeed heard through Tanya, who had heard about it when Georgia had spoken to Devon. He had been upset as she was a great girl.
‘Oh.’ It was all he could say. As an afterthought he added, ‘Have the police discovered who was behind the attack?’
‘Some fucking chancer who preyed on an innocent young girl home alone. Personal belongings were stolen from Addison’s flat but they’ve never been traced.’ It was Jacob who gave the report.
‘Language, Jacob. Walls have ears. You never know, there may be reporters around the corner.’
‘Well, it fucks me off.’ He whispered the F word in order to try and appease Nova.
It was up to Nova again to try and lighten the mood. ‘Sarah is a marvellous asset to us. She’ll be making sure that all of my pre-charity bash needs are catered for. I trust you’re going? You had a connection to Mitzi after all? Now she is a mystery, what has happened to the poor girl?’
‘I imagine she’s dead too, Nova,’ said Jacob matter of factly.
‘She has been missing for a long time,’ added Sarah.
‘One must never give up hope, if only to keep the spirits of poor Georgia afloat,’ remarked Nova. The thought of her son’s girlfriend swayed her mind into another direction. ‘Her stepmother is going to the party too. Apparently she’s frightfully glamorous and as young as a newborn lamb. Another reason to make sure I look magnificent.’