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Mrs Henderson and Pip stared at the snow cloud formed on the drive as Matt accelerated away from the house, and looked at each other.
“There’s going to be fireworks,” Mrs Henderson chuckled, crossing her flour covered hands over her apron.
Pip smiled mischievously. “Well someone needs to rattle his feathers and shake him up. Let’s hope he’s thinking ’Emily who?’ after the next couple of days, hey.”
The co-conspirators clinked their tea cups together in celebration of a job well done.
***
Anastacia couldn’t stop her hands from shaking as she tried repeatedly to put the plane’s phone back in its holder following the most important phone call of her life.
“Oh God, oh God, breathe girl just breathe.” She repeated the mantra to calm her racing heart, breathing in and out slowly and trying to remember her yoga techniques; her hands moving up and down in sync…well, that was useless.
She yanked out the phone again and dialed. He answered after a couple of rings.
“It’s me. Guess what?”
“Erm, I’ll go with… you’ve decided to become a nun and you want me to design a totally bodacious habit for you?”
“Alix honey, people don’t say bodacious anymore. You’re showing your age.”
She heard him suck in a breath in disgust. “You take that back or else I’ll make you look like Miss Bloody Piggy, or worse.”
“Amanda just called.” She let the statement just hang in the air teasingly until she heard his sharp intake of breath as he connected the dots.
“You got it didn’t you, you bloody well got it. I knew it, tell me you got it.”
“I got it.” She held the phone away from her ear as he screamed and eventually decided to join in, tapping her feet on the floor in delight.
Eventually they ran out of air.
“Oh pumpkin, I am so proud of you. God I can’t believe my girl is going to be the face of Passion. Wow, just…ha, do you remember when we used to flick through all those fashion magazines at school. You always loved those moody arty black and white Passion adverts and look at you now. Well done babe, I’m so proud.”
She swallowed the lump which had formed in her throat at his praise. He was genuinely proud of her achievement. She could always count on Alix. She could only count on Alix, she quickly amended. “We’ve done all right haven’t we. It’s everything, all my dreams come true, but now I’m scared Alix. What if I mess it all up? Three years is a long time and they’ll have huge expectations. They’ll want their pound of flesh. Skinny flesh,” she emphasised.
“Nonsense, you won’t mess it up, you’ve got me. I won’t let you. New York baby!!” Alix went off screaming again and muttering about all the plans he had for them in New York while she half listened, knowing Alix could entertain himself for quite a while without needing her input or encouragement. Talking with Alix always soothed her. She reclined her chair on the private Gulf Stream jet, closing her eyes. She hadn’t gotten much sleep over the last few nights and spent most of the time tossing and turning waiting to hear from her agent. She’d taken a sleeping pill earlier in the day in the hope that it would help her get some sleep on the plane, then the call had come through.
“So did you manage to pack some clothes for me?” she asked, stifling a yawn.
“Yep, got ’em. So what exactly happened in Italy? You sound like you’ve been partying too hard babe.”
She decided to ignore his quip about partying. Telling Alix she wasn’t sleeping would only lead to an inquisition and she wasn’t ready for that. “A complete nightmare. Take one over-emotional photographer and an equally stroppy designer having artistic differences into the mix and what do you get? Both of them storming off the shoot in different directions leaving me shivering in the middle of a bloody fountain in a bikini wondering what the hell just happened, and having to wait around ’till they kissed and made up. Honestly these dramatics are turning into an occupational hazard in Italy. So what time’s your flight?”
She could hear the background commotion and sounds of his fellow disgruntled passengers. “Er, well, it’s saying on the board that it’s delayed at the moment. It’s a good thing you could arrange to fly straight there from Rome rather than trying to come back to London first. I don’t think anything is landing or taking off from Heathrow at the moment.”
“Hmm, well, okay. Will you let me know when you know more?”
“Will do. So, have you spoken to her yet?”
She let out a long breath before responding. “What’s the point? I’ll just get Angela. I speak more to my mother’s assistant than I do her. Anyway she’ll be out at some LA premier and then I’d be sat waiting for her call; which we both know won’t come so…” she shrugged her shoulders.
“Don’t you dare let her spoil this for you.’ She’s not worth it. But I know you’ll call her anyway, won’t you?”
“Probably.” She could see him rolling his eyes at her and shaking his head.
He groaned out loud before continuing sheepishly. “It goes without saying that I’ll owe you big time for doing this for me, I—”
“Alix, you’re my rock. I’ve lost count of the times you’ve been there for me so don’t you dare say thank you to me for spending a weekend in Yorkshire modeling your creations. It’s the least I can do for you, okay?” She owed him more than he would ever know.
“Okay,” he mumbled. “So what’s involved with Passion from now?” he asked, cleverly changing the topic.
“Well, Amanda is going to email me the papers which I’ll have a look at once I get to Melville later. She said they’ve already found me an apartment on the upper-east side near their offices and they want everything in place and ready to go after London Fashion Week. So it all fits together nicely. By the way, do you have any idea where this Melville house actually is?”
“Not a clue, I just Googled it and fell in love with the house and grounds, it’s a farm or something somewhere in the North Yorkshire Moors. There’re picking you up so you’ll be fine. Anyway, I’m just glad I got you to model for me before you become even more famous and your head won’t fit through my clothes.”
“Ha de ha ha. I know I can always rely on you to keep me grounded.” After a short pause they both laughed.
“There’s no hope for you then pumpkin!”
She smiled to herself and she recalled that it was she who comforted Alix as he passionately jumped from one disastrous relationship to another and had his heart broken over and over, yet she admired his tenacity and zest for life. She was the constant in his life and vice versa and she’d recently made a pledge to herself to help him find the love of his life…at least that stopped her examining her own disastrous love life too closely. Her last boyfriend had sold all the juicy details of their six month relationship to the press. At least what they had fabricated had been juicy—the reality had been that they’d barely dated due to work pressures—but hey, at least he’d got his profile heightened and no doubt made a few quid out of it..
She mouthed her thanks to Heidi for the tea she’d just placed on her tray table and tentatively sipped at it.
“But what if they change their mind when I get there? I’m not exactly the body type they’ve gone for traditionally am I?” she said, now biting her lower lip.
“Don’t be so bloody ridiculous, if I could get my hands on your mother I swear—”
“Okay, Okay. Calm down Mike Tyson.” She chuckled as she heard him mutter “Who?”. “It’s just that we both know that this is it for me. At twenty-six, I’m not going to get a chance like this again and I’m just doing my usual doubting routine. Sorry.”
““Okay, well there’s an official-looking airline chap wandering around in an ill-fitting uniform just begging for a make-over so I better get off and see what’s happening with our flight. I’ll see you soon and we can celebrate properly.”
“Okay, see ya, mwah.”
She managed to get the phone back in the holder without too many problems this time and sipped again at her drink, trying to forget the fact that it was Christmas in a few days and she hadn’t done any shopping so it was likely to be another mad rush around on Christmas Eve. It saddened her to think that she and her mother were basically strangers now and would be spending yet another Christmas apart. Not that she’d ever had a normal Christmas with her family. Her very early Christmas memories with her mother usually meant party after party with the Hollywood types whilst she was left at home being cared for by Angela. That was a ’good Christmas’. A normal one meant that she didn’t even get to go home for Christmas; she stayed boarding at school in England and got to watch all the other children being collected by their parents or at least their parents’ chauffeurs. She remembered how she hated those children, but it wasn’t their fault they had parents who actually gave a damn.
“Miss Harper, sorry, but would you like anything else to drink? The captain says we’ll be hitting some turbulence as we descend through some bad weather so he’s about to put on the seatbelt sign.”
She dragged her thoughts from her troubled reverie “Oh, no thank you Heidi, I’m fine, you go and buckle up. And I’ve told you, please call me Anastacia. You’ve flown with me all around the world and you’ve even done a fifty yard dash down a runway to retrieve my fly-away knickers to save my dignity, so I’d say we’re on first name terms, wouldn’t you? She raised her eyebrow and smiled.
Heidi nodded and returned her smile as she retreated towards the back of the jet.
Ana returned her stare out of the small window to look at the darkening sky, not that she could see much. It was quite a change from the weather in Rome.
***
After a few hair-raising moments of bad turbulence the plane finally landed and taxied to its stand.
She gathered her belongings and wrapped her new cashmere wrap around her shoulders, thankful for the gift from Alix. As she approached the doorway she was hit by a blast of frigid Yorkshire air and falling snow which was starting to stick to the ground. She snuggled into her wrap and stepped out, hoping to God that Alix had chosen warm, practical clothes for her. She laughed to herself; if you couldn’t trust a fashion designer to pick clothes for you, who could you trust!? Despite her fierce independence, even she wouldn’t have turned down a chivalrous offer of a coat from a gentleman round about now. If only.
“Welcome to Yorkshire Anastacia, have a lovely stay and thank you again for the tickets to London Fashion Week. My daughter will love it. We’ll wave to you.”
“No worries and you’re very welcome. I’ll see you soon Heidi. Safe flying.” She said, giving a quick hug.
It had been lovely and warm in Rome, even in December. She didn’t like cold weather and neither did her favourite Jimmy Choo’s.
***
“Stay, George.”
Matt recklessly abandoned the heap of metal affectionately known by all at the stud farm as ’the hummer’ and rushed into the arrivals hall. He was late. He hated being late for anything; the upshot of being rapped over the knuckles with a ruler by the nuns at his strict Catholic school. Being late was a sign of tardiness. Still, on the plus side, he had to smile at the thought of keeping Miss Tall and Snooty waiting around the arrivals hall and having to mill about with the locals. Ah well, every cloud…
The airport was packed with people arriving home. But then what did you expect a few days before Christmas?
He stood back and held open the doors for an elderly couple struggling to push their heavy cases on a trolley and he felt compelled to help them into a waiting taxi. He didn’t even mutter a curse when one of the heavy cases dropped onto his foot and instead smiled through gritted teeth and wished them a Merry Christmas as they went on their way. At least Mrs Henderson would be proud.
He dodged around groups of festive travellers and flinched at the sight of what looked like a young father abandoning his travel bag as he dropped to his knees, his welcoming arms sweeping up two young children in a hearty embrace that made them giggle in delight before returning them to their feet to take their smiling mother’s face in both of his hands to kiss her. Matt forced his eyes away from the newly reunited family and absently rubbed at his chest to try to ease the now familiar ache that witnessing such tender scenes still caused, muttering apologies as he bumped into yet another embracing couple. While scanning faces in the crowd a flash of red caught his eye.
He approached her from behind and tapped her on the shoulder. “Come on, this way.”
She spun around and Matt momentarily forgot his own name.
The picture he’d drooled over earlier did not do her justice. No clever photo editing would ever be needed.
At her blank look he finally recovered and added, “Quickly, I’m double-parked.”
“Oh, hi there. Can I help you? Did you want an autograph?” she asked, dropping her bag to the floor and holding out her hand to him.
She was English, not American as he’d mistakenly assumed, although he could detect a hint of an American influence on her accent.
Matt was vaguely aware that she’d asked him a question and was still waiting for a reply, holding her hand out and narrowing her eyes at him like he was an idiot and finally dropped her hand back to her side. Her smile dropped.
Say something you idiot, he berated himself. “This way.” He motioned randomly with his hand somewhere directly behind his shoulder before bending to pick up her bag so they could get moving.
“Sorry, who are you?” she enquired, bending with him to take a surprisingly strong grip on her bag handle.
“Matt Darling,” he told her brusquely before continuing at her quizzical look and the on-going tug-of-war between them over her bag. “The owner of Melville ’whose peaceful life you and your magazine friends are about to disrupt and no,” he bent his head slightly and she took a small step back at his invasion, her eyes widening, “I don’t want your autograph Miss Harper. Shall we go or would you prefer to waste some more of my time?”
He groaned inwardly at his terse dialogue and at her equally shaken expression. The truth was that she’d momentarily shocked him; rather, his gut reaction to her had shocked him and his survival technique, honed to perfection since Emily’s departure, had kicked in automatically.
Thankfully she let go of the bag, probably in surprise at his rudeness. “Okkkkayy…” she glanced nervously around the other passengers in the arrivals hall before quickly recovering her composure to fix a smile on her lips before continuing. “Well, I’m Anastacia, pleased to meet you. Thanks for coming out in this horrid weather to get me,” she said cheerily, holding out her hand again.
Goddamn it. Now she was deliberately highlighting his rudeness. What a cow…
He stared at her outstretched hand, unable to compute that she wasn’t offended by him and yelling him to sod off and come back when he’d found some manners. He held out his hand but then quickly ran it over his jean-covered thigh, acutely aware that he was about to touch her. Matt never second guessed himself… what the hell was the matter with him? He was a successful businessman who negotiated multi-million pound contracts on a daily basis.
She placed her hand in his and his body reacted at the warmth of her skin; he had a sudden desire to place his hand on her cheek. What the hell?
He also felt a strange need to apologise for his tardiness but what actually came out of his mouth was, “My car’s this way,” before he turned on his heel and set off in the direction of the main doors like a man on a mission.
***
Spotting a newsagent Matt excused himself for a moment and Anastacia was grateful for the chance to collect her thoughts and take a deep breath.
Hellllo. Not since her first crush on James Newman aged eleven had her stomach had butterflies like this upon meeting a man. Matt Darling was a hunk! The rudest she’d ever met, and she’d met a fair few snakes in her life to date, but still. At least he’d be something nice to look at until Alix could get his butt here, wherever “here” actually was. She’d just have to gag the obnoxious twerp.
Too swiftly he returned and once again set off towards the car park, leaving her scurrying behind him in her heels. God she felt like an idiot. She was supposed to be in a taxi on her way home to her flat in Chelsea to pack for this trip, before the unpredicted bad weather had changed all the best made plans.
Matt opened the front door of an old-style land rover, the kind used around farms and the countryside. It was a battered heap covered in mud. Authentic.
“George, down!”
Anastacia was shocked to find a chocolate labrador bounding towards her and jumping up at her, trying desperately to lick her face. “Hello there boy,” she greeted in that dopey voice people always seemed to use around animals.
George finally decided to acknowledge his master but not before getting a good lick of his new friend.
“Er, sorry. He’s clearly a sucker for a redhead too.”
She risked a quick glance at her chauffeur and thought she caught a puzzled look on his face before he recovered. “Here.” He reached into his pocket and handed a clean handkerchief to her..
Patting George and rubbing his ears, she looked up at Matt. “Yes, yes I’m fine… he’s very friendly. I’ve never had a dog but I’ve always loved labs. Such a gorgeous man, you’re a beauty aren’t you,” she said, ruffling his ear’s and planting a kiss on George’s powerful head.
“Okay George that’s enough,” Matt said, intervening. “In the back,” he ordered.
She wasn’t about to argue. The man was clearly pissed at something or other. She moved to open the rear door—
“Not you.”
She heard him sigh wearily, like she was living up to his belief that she was a buffoon.
Matt guided her out of the way and opened up the back of the truck, placing her carry case on the floor as George jumped up and eventually settled down with his head between his paws.
As she stood back to watch the pair, a cold shiver went up her spine and she hugged her wrap closer. She’d actually lost all feeling in her exposed toes and dropped her head to check her polish hadn’t turned blue!
She saw him shake his head and thought she heard him mutter something about her being stupid. “You’re freezing. Why the hell wouldn’t you pack a coat?” He chastised her like a child. “Never mind. Here.” Matt started to shrug out of his jacket.
“Oh no really, I’m—" She tried to hide her gasp at a shiver as he held it out to her.
“Take it. It’s a long drive.” He furrowed his brow for a moment, as if thinking about something important before quickly dismissing it, as he opened the front passenger door for her and stood back. Anastacia took the coat and offered a smile as she wrestled with the sleeves and hopped up into the front seat.
Despite her best attempt, Matt noticed the expression on her face which she’d tried to hide.
“Yeah. It’s a working farm vehicle. Cold and smelly. We use it to ferry things around. Hummer by name, hummer by nature, and our limousine is booked in for its service.” He smirked at her mockingly before he looked down towards his feet and uttered something that she couldn’t quite make out and slammed the door.
What the hell had she done to offend this man? She’d only just met him… but this was a record, even for her!
Still, she conceded, the man smelt divine as she caught the faint smell of his cologne and him as she discreetly snuggled her face into his coat for a deeper sniff…purely to escape the offensive pong of the Hummer. The cologne was a favourite of hers and she basked in the residual warmth from his body and started to defrost; wiggling her toes. She thought about his name and decided it didn’t suit him. Matt made her think of a relaxed, friendly type of man who’d go out of his way to do anything for anyone. Most certainly not this grumpy farmer, even with his perfectly tight arse which, in her defence, she couldn’t help but notice as he’d stormed on ahead in the arrivals hall, expertly dodging passengers and trailing suitcases like he was a contestant on ’It’s a Knockout’.
“So how long will it take us to get there?” she said, rubbing her hands together before bending to take off her impractical but heavenly shoes and curl her legs up underneath her body on the car seat. At his curious expression she added, “Years and years of Yoga.”
