Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Rosie carried on out of the room. She’d sobered up, and had a sudden, desperate urge to submerse herself completely in that hot bath. With chocolates. Without alcohol.
As she made her way to the stairs, she passed the door to the lounge-library and glanced in. She was surprised to see Madison in there with Lucas, the pair sitting quietly in comfy armchairs. Lucas’s dark head was hunched over his phone, while Madison was reading a book.
Waving a wistful goodbye to her bath fantasy, Reporter Rosie knew she should grab this opportunity for a one-on-one with the star.
‘Hi,’ she said, entering the room. ‘Is it okay if I join you guys? It looks so warm and cosy in here.’ Her eyes fell on the trays of tea, coffee and biscuits, and the kettle set out on the polished antique sideboard.
‘Isn’t this all lovely?’ she said, gazing around at the bookshelves and the log fire crackling in the hearth.
‘Madison’s very tired,’ said Lucas, eyeing Rosie with suspicion. ‘Ashley’s asked the guests not to disturb her.’
‘Oh, I’m knackered too,’ said Rosie. ‘Long day. I think I’ll have a cup of tea. Would either of you like one?’
Madison looked up, shook her head, looked down again.
‘No,’ said Lucas.
Without taking her eyes from her book, Madison said, ‘Where’s Dale?’
‘Dale?’ said Rosie, innocently. ‘I think he left.’ The antique clock on the mantelpiece showed it was still only 9.30pm. ‘Maybe he wanted to get his beauty sleep, ready for tomorrow. Did you enjoy the dinner?’
Madison nodded. ‘Yeah. Had to table-hop and talk to the punters, cos that’s part of the deal, but they were quite sweet really.’ Finally, she smiled. ‘And then I chatted with Ashley, and he’s such a doll.’
‘Isn’t he! Hey – I’m staying on next week for a few days, and he’s said he’ll take me climbing, up that really big mountain. Hell … Hell something.’
‘Hell on earth? Why would you wanna do that?’
‘Not sure, but I do. I got a little taster today, when I was walking back with Ant. It actually felt amazing, climbing a hill – well, a small rocky thing. A crag, perhaps.’ She remembered her moment of weightlessness – her lightness of being – as he’d lifted her to the top.
‘Ant’s sweet, with his dog,’ Madison said. ‘Dunno what he’s doing working with that wanker Dale.’
Wow. Clearly hell hath no fury like a celebrity scorned.
Lucas looked up. ‘Madis–’
‘Oops. Off the record, Rosie, not that he’s famous, so no one’s interested in my opinion of him anyway. Hey – you go on up if you’re tired, babe,’ she said to Lucas.
‘You want to check this post first?’ Rosie noticed the look in his eyes as he waited for her to reply. Concern … affection.
‘Sure.’
He hopped out of his chair and sat on the arm of hers, and their heads bent together. ‘That’s quite a nice one,’ she said as he scrolled through what Rosie assumed was a draft social media post. Madison looked up. ‘What’s your mag’s Insta handle? Or yours?’
‘Oh – @holistichealth and @rosieappleby.’
‘Tag them,’ Madison said to Lucas, then she sighed. ‘Holistic bloody Health. And to think, not so long ago I was on the cover of Hello.’ She touched Lucas’s arm. ‘Just add in whoever-the-fuck supplied the dress and that’s good to go. Schedule it for whatever time you think best.’
‘Okay boss.’ He said goodnight to the two women and left the room.
Rosie checked the kettle was full, then flicked it on. ‘Sure you don’t want a cuppa?’
‘Oh go on then. Black, no sugar.’
‘Custard cream? Chocolate digestive?’
‘Are you mad?’ Madison swept a hand down her body. She was wearing a shapeless long grey cardi over her bandage dress, and the contrast in styles made Rosie smile.
‘I’m surprised they’d even put out plates of biscuits,’ said Rosie, biting into one, ‘given it’s a health retreat. And as for the cocktails –’ she dropped teabags into china cups, ‘– lethal. Welcome to Grasmere Heights – please leave your inhibitions at the door.’
Madison gave a small smile then resumed reading, and while Rosie waited for the tea to brew, she quickly googled the star’s age.
Thirty-four. She glanced over at Madison’s mirror-like forehead, her plumped-up lips, her forests of eyelashes, her sculpted cheeks.
Both sets of sculpted cheeks. Thirty-four.
Why would a beautiful, young-ish woman feel the need?
This was the story Rosie wanted, but she’d have to tread carefully.
She placed Madison’s tea down on the nearest coffee table and sat down in the armchair next to her. ‘What are you reading?’
‘Dostoevsky,’ Madison replied, without looking up.
She let the stunned silence hang for a moment, then met Rosie’s eye and laughed.
‘Joking. It’s a Catherine Robertson.’ She flashed the cover at her.
‘I love a good romance, though I hate the way the authors make up these perfect blokes, because nothing in real life ever comes close.’ She sighed.
‘They basically set us up for disappointment.’
Rosie saw her chance. ‘But Madison, you’re beautiful, famous, a huge success. You could have your pick of blokes!’
‘My pick of the tossers, for sure. But do you honestly think any decent bloke would take me seriously?’
How to put it tactfully?
‘You started as a model, right?’ Rosie put down her phone next to the teas and pointed to the voice recorder icon. ‘Would you mind?’
Madison shrugged. ‘If you must.’
‘So how did you become an influencer, and make the move into reality TV?’
‘I’m too small for the catwalk,’ she said, ‘so I went the glamour route. Nothing dodgy, mind. I did lots of swimwear and lingerie. It was those shots that got me the big following on Insta. But by my thirties my boobs and bum … you know what? I spent hours in the gym but it wasn’t enough, so I did what I had to do.
I was endorsing make-up and skincare too, so I had to make sure my face was up to the job.
The whole lips thing, it's a trend. I wouldn’t get the make-up jobs without the lips. Or with any lines, bags, pigmentation–’
‘Really? Even with Photoshop?’
‘You can’t rely on that, or filters, Rosie.
Not when there’s all the video and livestreams too.
Then came Tempt Me, and Guy – he’s been my manager since I became an influencer – basically he said I should go the full Kardashian.
Do you know the net worth of the Kardashians?
We’re talking billions. Google Kim before and after, then you’ll understand. ’
‘But that’s America. We’re different here – aren’t we?’
Madison sipped her tea. ‘Not so different. My number of followers doubled, along with the size of my bum. But having said all that … the booty’s too much. I’m looking into a reverse BBL.’ She smiled. ‘There you go, Rosie – there’s your scoop.’
‘Gosh, thanks – seriously?’
‘For real. I’m over it. The “proper” media treat influencers like a pestilence, and half of my followers are only there to take the piss.’
‘Can I use that?’ Rosie said hesitantly.
Madison attempted a frown. ‘Guy said we get copy approval, right?’
‘Yes, because it’s paid-for.’
‘Okay then, on the understanding that if my big mouth might get me into trouble, I can change my mind.’
‘Sure. So you think you need to, kind of, de-Kardashian?’
‘Yep, I want to work in TV, so I need to tone things down, especially my bum. I basically live in leggings – I can’t get normal jeans to fit my massive arse and little legs!’
Rosie spluttered with laughter. ‘But look at your waist. So teeny. I barely go in at all, a proper apple.’ A memory squeezed its way past her Rueben-thoughts ban.
‘My ex-boyfriend used to call me Dipsy, after the Tellytubby. Because of my round tummy.’ She paused. ‘And because of my general dopiness.’
‘What a pillock,’ said Madison. ‘Sounds like classic gaslighting. You hear it enough times and you start to believe it. Believe me, I know.’ Her eyes travelled down Rosie’s body. ‘You’re a lovely shape. All in proportion and normal.’
Rosie remembered how, in the gingerbread shop, Guy had referred to Madison in the third person; how he’d talked about her as if she wasn’t there.
‘How long have you been with Guy?’ she asked.
‘We don’t need to talk about him.’ Her tone was abrupt.
‘Right.’
Silence.
‘So … how many staff do you have? Given you’re now officially a mega-influencer?’
‘Everyone’s on short-term contracts, apart from Guy. There’s an accountant, plus this crew. I love Kayleigh, met her through the TV programme. Lucas is my right-hand man. You’ve got to have someone you really trust. Lucas is the only one.’
‘No partner?’
‘Nope.’ Madison picked up her book again.
‘Not since well before Tempt Me. They all want to shag me but run a mile when I want something more. Womp womp. Like I said, I need to change my image. All I’ve been offered so far this year is Blankety-fucking-Blank.
’ She pulled herself up sharp. ‘That last bit – that’s off the record. ’
‘The Blankety Blank part?’
‘The shagging men part.’
‘Sure.’
Madison started to read again, then said, ‘So you just broke up with someone? After how long?’
They seemed to be dipping their toes in heart-to-heart waters. Perhaps if Rosie told Madison about her recent double disaster, it might make the star feel happier about sharing her own stories.
‘Nearly two years. I thought he was the one … at least, I thought I thought he was, if you get me, until I had this post-break-up moment of revelation. Hard to explain.’ She remembered the canal bridge, her boots, the padlock. Lysander. ‘Something opened my eyes, prompted a moment of truth.’
‘Where are all the nice blokes, Rosie?’
Good question. Rosie was about to mention Dale, then thought better of it. Nice probably wasn’t the best adjective, anyway.
‘And in the same week I was dumped,’ she said instead, ‘the publisher of my novel, which was coming out later this year, decided the genre was dying and cancelled my book deal.’
‘Oof. That sucks.’
‘Yup. Womp womp over here, too.’ She smiled at Madison. ‘But at least I like my day job, especially when I get to do interesting assignments like this.’
‘I might be writing a book too,’ said Madison.
Oh my god. Rosie bit her tongue. Her opinions on celebrity book deals wouldn’t be helpful right now.
‘Oh! What about?’
‘They want sex, scandal, gossip; to know about all the famous people I’ve shagged – especially the married ones.’
‘I’d read that.’
Madison laughed.
‘Well … I love your authenticity–’ Rosie began.
Madison’s expression darkened. ‘You taking the piss?’ Good grief, this woman could be touchy.
‘No! I don’t mean your … your body. I mean like how in Tempt Me everyone else was banging on about how they failed to connect emotionally, or weren’t being respected, while you just said the blokes were dumb, or mingers, or terrible kissers.
’ She grinned. ‘What was it you said about that guy Mikey? That it was like snogging an octopus?’
Madison wrinkled her nose. ‘Ew. Mikey. Sucky lips and hot damp hands all over me.’
‘It would certainly all make for an entertaining read, especially if it ended with a symbolic reverse BBL.’
Madison pulled a face. ‘I haven’t a clue about writing, but they said they’d get me professional help.
And access to a lawyer. Haha. And they’re offering a lot of money so …
’ Abruptly she stood up, gave an enormous yawn, and pulled her cardigan round her.
‘Gonna head to bed. We can talk some more tomorrow, on the walk.’
‘That’d be great,’ said Rosie, disappointed with the abrupt termination of the interview. ‘And … how would you feel about a live feed on Holistic Health’s Instagram? We’ve nearly half a million followers.’
‘Sure,’ she said. ‘Are you doing the early morning hot yoga? With Caleb?’
‘I was going to,’ said Rosie, ‘but if it’s a toss-up between that and a full English in bed, I might give it a miss. I couldn’t stomach the trout tonight; I’ll need something substantial to give me the energy to climb.’
‘Okay – see you in the morning then.’
Rosie watched her thoughtfully as she made her way out of the lounge. The star was wary of saying too much, still holding Rosie at arm’s length, but she did seem to have forgiven her the whole seat-switching episode.
Rosie thought about her slightly mysterious, quiet companion, Lucas. The way they were so relaxed together. You’ve got to have someone you trust. Lucas is the only one. What was going on there? He had to be at least ten years younger than Madison.
She switched off her voice recorder and headed up the stairs. As she turned left towards Tennyson, the door to Byron opened and Ashley emerged. ‘Oh, Rosie!’ he blustered.
‘Goodnight, Ashley,’ she said, trying not to laugh.
‘Jono was showing me his amazing bird photography.’
‘Of course he was.’
‘Oh – and you left your boots in the bar,’ he said, edging past her. ‘I’ve put them in the porch, ready for tomorrow.’ He raised a hand. ‘Sleep well, sweetheart!’