Chapter Six #2
I felt content and thought about how some of the best moments between the two of us were the most simple; the inconsequential cuddles on the sofa, or when he came through the door after work, or the lazy Saturdays pottering around.
His fry-ups. The slow snogs. Those were the things I was going to miss the most.
The next morning, an enormous box of flowers arrived at the front door from Pronovias.
The publicity team had clearly seen the benefit of the gown being worn by Mandy, rather than my sister.
They even said they were happy for Mandy to keep it if she wanted and would honour the cost so Lucy could come back and choose something else for her wedding day.
I told them both the good news over WhatsApp.
Mandy replied with a page of mermaid and fish emojis.
And Lucy simply with the words, Great. You’re the best MOH. Will look online when I get a chance.
I took this as a win from them both.
As the column inches on news websites and social media likes for Mandy’s mermaid look stacked up, I witnessed first-hand the power that being a stylist to a superstar like Mandy could command.
Some of my fashion contacts reconnected, commenting under the image that it was great to see me styling again; DMs from friends popped up on Instagram.
Even my model-stroke-actress friend Poppy Dunn got back in touch, and I hadn’t heard a thing from her since New York.
I’m so glad you’re styling Mandy!!! Isn’t she Ah-Mazing?
?? We must meet up when I’m next in London! !
Vicky sent a voice note to tell me I was the bomb and that Mandy’s look had made the Star Tracks spot on People magazine’s home page in the US. I was buzzing.
Back on Planet Normal, Rob and I spent Sunday morning doing laundry, cleaning, and tidying our flat.
With the Pronovias flowers arranged into three vases and dispersed around the rooms, it looked and smelt lovely.
It restored a sense of calm to both of us and we were able to have a very adult conversation about how he would try to retain this sense of order at home going forward.
Fortunately, this conversation was weighted in my favour, as I wouldn’t be there for most of the time.
Then I started to do some packing, but we didn’t want to waste the whole of our last day together, so we decided to go for a walk around Portobello Road and have a beer at the Gold.
‘Let’s talk about our first impressions of each other,’ I said when we were comfortably seated. ‘You know, just like I asked you what your first impression of Girl Friday was, I’m wondering how you might have described me.’
He looked at me thoughtfully, his watchful green eyes scanning my face affectionately.
I took a sip from my bottle of Corona and waited a few seconds, as he considered what to say.
‘You’re taking too long!’ I declared. ‘Okay, I’ll go first. I thought you really fancied yourself.’
Rob laughed so hard he spat out some of his beer.
‘Fancied myself! Really? ’ He snorted in disbelief, still laughing as he mopped up the spillage from his chin with a napkin.
‘Really.’ I cast him a sideways look.
‘Was that because you fancied me ? ’
‘Of course not!’ I giggled mischievously. ‘But I do now. I mean the way you dribbled just then, it was sooo sexy.’
‘Now you’re being rude.’ He laughed. ‘You told me you gave me the nickname Handsome Rob – where did that come from then, hey?’ He dug his index finger into my ribs. ‘You fancied me straight away. Admit it.’
We both knew he was right. Rob’s boyish good looks, dark denim and white T-shirt combos had caught my eye immediately, leading to the cheeky moniker I had given him when we first started working together.
‘It wasn’t just superficial though. I thought you were going places.’ I smiled. ‘I was impressed by your drive. You knew so clearly that you wanted to be a director, and you were going to achieve that. You had no doubts. It was attractive.’ I paused. ‘And I fancied your arms.’
He grinned. ‘Just my arms?’ A muscle on his forearm twitched beneath his jumper.
His eyes glistened, just like they had done when I first laid my eyes on him in Smith’s boutique, where I honestly thought it was love at first sight for me. ‘You do have great arms,’ I said. ‘And when I first saw you, I thought I fancy him . I still do.’
‘But that ambition and drive,’ he said, earnestly, ‘do I still have that?’ He bowed his head.
I cupped my hand around the side of his face and pulled him a little closer to me. ‘What do you mean by that?’
‘I mean that I’m not going places anymore, am I? And I’m not sure how to get that drive back.’
‘If you’re talking about your job at the moment,’ I said, ‘what’s happened with the show really sucks. But it’s not your fault, and nor does it define you, or your career, in any way.’
‘But it’s not very attractive,’ he muttered.
‘Rob, we’re well past the first impressions stage now.’
‘I know. I’m sorry, I just feel a bit shit about my life at the moment,’ he said forlornly, moving a stray piece of hair away from my face.
‘I know how it feels. Just last week I was feeling the same about Selfridges, but things can change so quickly. Try to keep positive.’
‘I’m so pleased for you, baby. This opportunity, it’s great for you.’
‘Thank you,’ I said, looking him square in the eyes. ‘But remember, a job isn’t your whole life. And one thing I have learnt is that nobody has it completely worked out all the time. Especially not me. How could I ask that of you? I never would.’
He smiled again. ‘You’re special Amber Green. I’m a lucky man.’
‘I’m the lucky one,’ I said, squeezing his arm. ‘Now. It’s time to maximise the remaining few hours we have left. So, let’s do something that is guaranteed to make us feel really, really good.’ I smiled at him.
‘Go back to bed?’ he asked wickedly.
‘Buy two tubs of ice cream, eat them on the sofa, and get an early night.’
‘Rock and roll,’ he purred. We took the last sip of our beers. ‘That sounds perfect.’