Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Rosie stared at him. ‘Ant’s girlfriend was Dale’s sister?’
‘Yep. The three of them grew up together, went walking together. Gemma and Dale were identical twins, a couple of livewires, while Ant was the quiet one. Gaz, the barman …?’ Rosie nodded.
‘He’s a good friend of the boys; he told me the reason Dale didn’t go with them that day, which happened to be their birthday, was because Ant was going to propose up on the summit. ’
Rosie briefly closed her eyes. ‘Oh no …’ Could this be any sadder?
Ashley resumed stroking Tabitha. ‘I thought you should know.’ He paused, and Rosie wondered why he was telling her all this. She was just a journalist up here to write a story about clothes and spa treatments, with celebrity content to pull in the punters.
‘Rosie Applepip!’ She looked up to see Jono entering the room. ‘Jesus, you gave us a fright,’ he said, looking at her foot with its ice pack. ‘I’d never have got another gig from Amara if you’d disappeared forever in the mist.’
Rosie glanced at Ashley. ‘I’m fine,’ she said, ‘but I’ve learned a lot about this place – and its inhabitants – in a very short space of time. Strangely, considering my adventures, I love it. And them.’
‘Me too,’ said Jono, sitting down beside her, also glancing at Ashley.
He had his laptop with him. ‘I thought you might like to see,’ he said, opening it and clicking on a file of images labelled Vybe.
He showed her the fashion shoot photos, with Dale and Madison looking outdoorsy-gorgeous on Loughrigg.
‘Veronica must be so pleased,’ said Rosie.
‘She is, yes. And that was a good call, getting Dale involved.’ He held her gaze. ‘You did a great job with the reflector, but that one – he lights himself.’
Rosie stared at a photo of Dale, those flashing dark eyes, hair blowing artistically in the wind. Thinking about the sadness behind that cheeky grin.
Then he moved on to the shots he’d taken of Madison ‘from behind’, on … Dale’s Knob. Rosie swallowed a smile. Dale was outrageous, but he was funny.
The drone footage was fabulous, with panoramic bird’s-eye views of the fells and lakes, and Madison, hands in the air, on the rocky outcrop.
‘I thought you might like to see these too,’ said Jono, and he clicked on a folder labelled Lakes.
Rosie’s eyes widened as he showed her sunset shots of Grasmere.
He’d also photographed the waterbirds, a buzzard soaring overhead; there was an amazing shot of a kingfisher the moment it hit the water, like an iridescent blue arrow.
‘First time I’ve ever got a kingfisher.’
‘They’re fantastic,’ said Rosie. She raised her eyebrows at Ashley. ‘So you really were looking at Jono’s bird photos!’
‘Mostly.’
As Ashley helped her into the lift and along to Tennyson, Rosie’s mind returned to what he’d told her about Ant and Dale. She guessed the two men had dealt with Gemma’s death in very different ways, one retreating into himself, the other partying hard.
Ashley let them in, and Madison soon appeared. ‘I’m hoping there are some nice bubbles for Rosie’s bath, Ashley?’ she said.
‘But of course,’ he said. ‘I’ll leave you to it, ladies.’
Rosie changed while Madison ran the bath. It was deep and steaming, and fragrant bubbles were spilling over the side.
Madison helped her in. ‘Thanks so much,’ said Rosie, sighing with pleasure as she slid into the hot water, her left foot resting on a soft, folded towel Madison had put on the side. Bliss.
‘Mind if I hang about for ten minutes?’ she said, sitting down on the loo.
‘Of course not,’ said Rosie, ‘but don’t feel you have to stay.’
Madison caught sight of her reflection in the large mirror opposite the toilet. ‘Christ,’ she said. ‘Do you think it’s time I dialled down the fillers?’
Rosie appraised Madison’s face. ‘Honest?’
‘Truth, please.’
‘You’re extremely pretty, you don’t need it.
Any of it. A great photographer, like Jono, will always make you look good.
He could give Lucas a few tips if you’re worried, but I think …
your personality, it’s authentic. That’s what people like about you; you’re up front.
Why not go for authenticity in your face too? It’s working for Pamela Anderson.’
‘Oh my god,’ said Madison, looking scandalised. ‘It so isn’t. Have you seen what people are saying about her face? How she looks her age?’
‘You mean the misogynists? The haters? Who cares about them? Women are saying she’s awesome, and brave. And what’s wrong with looking your age? Maybe it’s just a publicity stunt but if it is, it’s working. She’s everywhere.’
Madison looked thoughtful. ‘You think maybe I should be doing a Pammie instead of a Kimmie?’
‘It’s an idea. I wouldn’t bin the makeup entirely, but you could dial back the lips and lashes?’
‘Maybe.’ Madison regarded Rosie. ‘Moving on – I wanted to ask you something else.’ Rosie wondered if this was to do with Dale. Best get it out of the way.
‘Does it involve a certain Timothée lookalike?’
‘Shit, no,’ said Madison. ‘He’s dead to me.’
How do I say this? ‘I don’t properly understand him.’
Madison shrugged. ‘He’s just a pretty fuckboy. Not worth the bother, to be honest.’
In for a penny. ‘Do you mind me asking what you two …’
‘Use your imagination, Rosie. I invited him to my room; he was quick enough to accept. Straight down to it, but he didn’t get the whole two-way thing. I told him he wasn’t done yet, but he was wham bam and out the door.’
Rosie had no idea how to respond. This was a whole other world of hook-ups.
‘Then he ghosted me and was an arsehole at dinner – as you saw. I wouldn’t go there – if you haven’t already?’
‘Just a snog and a feel,’ said Rosie. ‘It was nice, though.’
‘Sorry – are we at school?’
Rosie looked at her, and at once they both began to laugh.
‘Dale’s Knob?’ spluttered Rosie.
‘Madison’s Disappointment,’ said Madison, and then there were tears running down their cheeks.
‘Oh my god, stop,’ said Rosie, as she forgot about her bad ankle and it slid off the side and into the bath. ‘Fuck – ow.’
Rosie carefully raised it again, and Madison replaced the towel that had fallen in with it. ‘So yeah, Rosie, as I was saying …’
Rosie leant back into the bubbles. ‘What do you think of Ant?’
Madison tried to frown. ‘He’s very cute; totally get the appeal of the strong, silent type. Why?’
‘This is going to sound mad, but I think I’m falling in love.’
Madison laughed. ‘Nah,’ she said. ‘He carried you out of a cave. It’ll just be that thing like how we all want to shag a fireman.’
‘Do we?’
‘Of course!’
‘Last night, you asked me where all the nice men are, remember?’
‘I do.’
‘Ant’s a very very nice man.’
‘Granted – he’s properly nice. Get in there, then. So, as I was saying …’
‘Sorry, Madison. Go on.’
‘Okay – you’re a writer; I need someone to help me write this book. I want that to be you.’
‘What?’ Rosie sat up in surprise, and water sloshed over the side. ‘You want me to help you write your book?’
‘No – I want you to write it for me, but make it sound like me.’
‘But you don’t know if I’m any good!’
‘Wrong. I spoke to Guy; he went off and read some of your stuff. He’s in touch with your agent and your editor. If you want to be my ghost writer, the job’s yours. Pay’s good. Deadline’s a bit tight but we can push for more time if we have to.’
Rosie was astonished. She lay in the bubbles, trying to take this in. ‘Why me?’
‘Like I told you before, I need people I can trust. You have a trustworthy vibe. And more to the point, you seem to get me, and you’re not afraid to ask difficult questions or discuss touchy topics. And you’re fun.’ She put her head on one side. ‘Well?’
‘I can’t quite believe it,’ said Rosie. ‘One door shuts and another … I’d love to, Madison. I truly would. I’ll have to speak to my editor, see if I can organise to go part time for a while, maybe.’
Madison shrugged. ‘Guy can do that. He’s very persuasive.’
Rosie looked at her. ‘But does he have your best interests at heart? He seems quite ruthless.’
‘He’s a shit,’ said Madison. ‘But he’s my manager, not my husband, so that’s fine. What do you think we should call my book? I was thinking something like, Madison Reveals All with a practically nude photo on the cover.’
‘Hm,’ said Rosie. ‘The publisher will probably choose the title. You know that children’s picture book, I Need a New Bum?’
‘Fuck yes! Could we do that?’
‘Something to think about.’
Madison picked up her phone. ‘Every girl needs Ashley in her contacts … Ashley, babe – you said anything we needed? A bottle of champagne and two glasses, if you’d be so kind.’
The bath water was almost cold by the time they’d polished off the bubbles and finished chatting – about Reuben, Rosie’s job and family, Madison’s life story. How hard had this star worked to get to where she was now? Her ambition and drive made more sense in the light of what she told Rosie next.
Lucas, it turned out, was her stepbrother, the only positive outcome of her parents’ vicious divorce.
‘I was only six; it properly fucked me up,’ she said.
‘Never mind your custody battles – neither of them wanted me. Guess I’ve spent all these years since trying to make people love me.
I think Lucas is probably the only person who does. ’
Madison helped Rosie out of the bath, wrapped her in a fluffy towel, and Rosie hobbled over to the bed, touching her left foot to the floor on the way. The ice pack, champagne and hot bath had done much to ease the pain, and she was feeling sleepy. Now, she just wanted to sink into bed.
Madison helped her with the compression bandage that Ashley had delivered along with the champagne, then said, ‘Time for bed, sweetie. I’m going to stay a few more days so we can sort out the book contract.
Once it’s all agreed, I guess we can talk some more, with your voice recorder switched on this time. ’
‘My voice … oh shit,’ said Rosie. ‘My phone. Ant still has my backpack.’ Forgetting to give it back didn’t strike Rosie as a very Ant thing to do, and she wondered – fantasised – had he been distracted?
‘Excellent – a reason for him to come over!’ said Madison.
Rosie held out a hand to her. ‘Thanks for this, and for your amazing offer. I’m so excited to work with you; I’m hoping so hard this happens.’
Madison squeezed it and said, ‘It will. Sweet dreams, babe.’ She peered out of the window as she pulled the curtains. ‘It’s still quite light. Do you think there’s time for me to go for a walk, fall over, and call mountain rescue?’