Famous (22 page)

‘She’s left me.’

Aha. So the rumours were true.

‘Well…so would I.’

‘Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?’ he asked, sounding rather desperate.

‘Aside from inventing a time machine and rewinding my life to that night in the bar and leaving me alone? No.’

‘So you don’t want to see me again?’

‘Are you completely stupid? Or just deaf?’

‘Right…I must say that’s a shame though.’

‘You don’t know the first thing about shame,’ I spat.

‘Well, please give me a call if you change your mind, Sam…I’d really love to see you again.’

‘I don’t think so, Alistair. Good. Bye.’

I slammed down the phone, which was a bad idea because it was my mobile. I looked across at Mands and Lizzie who were sitting at the table, eyes like saucers and bodies thrust forward, begging for information.

‘Was that who I think it was?’ asked Lizzie.

‘Yes,’ I replied, still in shock.

‘And?’ pressed Mands.

‘And…he wanted to take me out for dinner.’

‘And you said no?’ she asked, disbelief resounding in her voice.

‘Yes.’

‘Oh…’ they both replied, clearly disappointed.

‘Guys, this is the same man who cheated on his wife and who has ruined my life. Remember?’

‘Yes,’ they replied in unison. ‘But he’s still very foxy.’

‘I can’t believe he asked you out,’ repeated Mands, shaking her head in disbelief. ‘Lucky cow.’

‘Lucky?’ I spat. ‘My life has been completely ruined by that bastard.’

‘True,’ said Mands. ‘Sorry.’

‘Nice of him to ring and apologise though,’ said Lizzie, attempting to create a positive spin.

‘There is nothing nice about that man,’ I said, pointing my finger at her for emphasis. ‘He is the devil.’

‘So, are you sure you won’t go out with him then?’ asked Mands.

‘Get out!’ I hollered, hauling them both up from the chairs in which they sat. ‘I want the two of you to bugger off and leave me alone!’

‘But…’ started Lizzie.

‘No buts,’ I replied. ‘Piss off! Now!’

I grabbed their handbags and shoved them into their disbelieving hands, opening the front door.

‘Out,’ I repeated, swinging my arm for emphasis.

‘Don’t you think you’re…’ started Mands.

But one look from my fiery eyes was enough to stop her in her tracks.

‘Right then,’ they chorused, tentatively shuffling past me out the door. ‘Bye.’

I shut the door and collapsed onto the sofa, grateful to finally be alone with my sorrows. I took the phone off the hook and switched off my mobile. And then I had a good old bawl. I was sick of the paparazzi. Sick of the hounding. And sick of the friendly advice. And, I suddenly realised in between convulsing sobs, I was also absolutely exhausted. The past five weeks of constant harassment and lack of sleep had worn me out. It felt like a lifetime. I was in dire need of a good night’s sleep, and a holiday. Two hours and many tears later I switched my phones back on. There were ten missed calls from Mands and Lizzie on my mobile. Each. Two minutes later it rang.

‘Hi dolls,’ said Mands, sounding somewhat sheepish. ‘Look I’m sorry. I’m an insensitive bitch.’

‘It’s okay,’ I sighed. ‘I’m sorry for kicking you guys out. I just needed to be alone.’

‘Understood. Are you okay?’

‘Yes, the tears have stopped, and I feel much better.’

‘Why don’t we bring round some takeaways and a movie tonight?’ she suggested.

‘Sounds good.’

‘And I promise we won’t talk about that bastard.’

‘Thank you,’ I sighed.

‘See you at seven. Love ya.’

I put the phone down and it rang again straightaway.

‘Hi sweets.’ It was Lizzie. ‘I’ve been trying to ring you.’

‘I know,’ I replied.

‘I’m sorry, babe. So is Mands.’

‘I know. She just rang.’

‘How about we come round tonight with some dins?’

‘You already are. I’ll see you at seven.’

‘And I promise we won’t talk about that bastard.’

‘Good,’ I replied.

‘Love ya. See you tonight.’

Late that afternoon there was a knock at the door. I opened it expecting to see a photographer who was prepared to break the trespassing rules. But it was a courier, with a tiny package in his hand.

‘Samantha Steel!’ he exclaimed, beaming at me. ‘I saw you on the telly.’

‘Brilliant,’ I replied, sarcasm echoing off my vocal chords.

‘Pretty popular, aren’t you?’ he said. ‘Got loads of friends waiting outside.’

‘They’re not my friends,’ I replied, signing the docket and taking the package. ‘Quite the opposite.’

I set the courier bag down on the dining table and opened it. I pulled out a small light blue box, with the smallest white silk ribbon I had ever seen. I gently undid the ribbon and lifted off the lid. Sitting inside the small box was an even smaller box. A velvet one with silver writing.

Ohmygod! I thought in surprise, reading the logo.
Tiffany & Co.

I opened the box to find a pair of sparkling diamond earrings sitting inside. I whipped them out and put them straight on. They’re gorgeous! I thought to myself, standing in front of the bathroom mirror. They must have cost a bomb!

Who on earth was sending me hideously expensive earrings? I wondered. Perhaps I had a handsome secret admirer who’d been following my media coverage? Some good had to come out of it, surely.

No, I told myself. I bet it’s some rich media tycoon who wants to make a reality tele show out of my misfortune. Be just my luck.

I decided to put myself out of my misery and see if there was in fact a card in the courier pack. There was. I tore open the envelope and pulled out the card.

Oh no! I despaired, realising I would not be keeping these beautiful earrings…

Dear Samantha, since you won’t let me take you out for dinner I can think of no other way to apologise to you. I truly am sorry. Alistair x
x

Bloody great!
Of all the people who could have bought me Tiffany earrings it had to be him. I took them off and placed them back into the little box. Such a shame, they really were lovely.

‘Holy Mary!’ exclaimed Mands, picking up the velvet box that evening.

I knew I should have put it out of sight.

‘Oh gorgeous!’ exclaimed Lizzie, looking over her shoulder.

‘So?’ said Mands, looking at me for an explanation.

‘So what?’

‘So, where the hell did these come from? Or have you just been out spending ridiculous amounts of money on yourself?’

‘Of course, that’s perfectly okay if you have,’ added Lizzie.

‘No,’ I replied. ‘They’re a gift.’

‘A gift? From who?’ asked Lizzie.

‘Yes. Spill the beans for godsake,’ said Mands, sitting down at the table, earrings still firmly in her grasp.

‘They’re from Alistair.’

‘Alistair?’ they exclaimed in unison.

‘My God!’ said Mands. ‘Will wonders never cease? First he’s asking you out to dinner and then he’s buying you diamond earrings. All in the same day!’

‘Beautiful diamond earrings,’ added Lizzie.

‘Beautiful diamond earrings which are being returned to him tomorrow,’ I replied.

‘
What?’
they shouted, clearly alarmed. ‘You’re not sending them back?’

‘Yes. I am.’

‘Why, in God’s name?’ asked Mands.

‘Because they’re from him. And I’m not accepting anything from him. He is the man who has ruined my life. Remember?’

‘All the more reason to take the earrings. You need some form of compensation,’ said Lizzie.

‘I can’t accept them,’ I stated. ‘It’s against my moral judgement.’

‘Look, just because you’ve suddenly got yourself some morals it doesn’t mean you can’t give the earrings to me or Lizzie,’ argued Mands. ‘We don’t mind that he bought them.’

‘No, we don’t,’ agreed Lizzie. ‘Not at all.’

‘Well I do and they’re going straight back,’ I replied.

‘What a shame,’ sighed Mands, staring wistfully at the earrings. ‘Look how they sparkle.’

‘Give them here,’ I demanded, putting them safely out of her reach. She was beginning to look delusional. ‘The only problem is that I don’t have his address.’

‘Well, you’re simply going to have to keep them then,’ stated Lizzie.

‘No. I’m going to have to phone him and ask for his address.’

‘Really?’ they chorused. ‘That should be interesting.’

‘How about you ring him now?’ said Mands. ‘While we’re here.’

‘No. I’m not having you two jumping about in front of me again. I’ll ring him in the morning.’

‘God, I wonder what he’ll say?’ said Lizzie, looking for all the world like a love-struck teenager.

‘Who cares what he says?’ I replied. ‘He’s an asshole.’

‘True,’ agreed Mands. ‘But he’s an asshole with very good taste. And there’s something to be said for that.’

‘Certainly is,’ agreed Lizzie. ‘Bryce had no taste, he was just an asshole. A complete waste of money.’

‘And air,’ added Mands.

We opened a bottle of wine and they both temporarily forgot about the earrings. Until they were leaving, that is.

‘Are you sure you won’t give them to me?’ said Mands. ‘It’d be such a waste sending them back.’

‘Yes, I’m sure.’

‘Positive?’ asked Lizzie.

‘Yes. Now bugger off.’

The following morning I retrieved Alistair’s number from the depths of my iPhone and made the call.

‘It’s Samantha.’

‘Sam. Hi. What a nice surprise.’

‘I can’t accept the earrings.’

‘Sure you can.’

‘No. I can’t. What’s your address?’

‘Why?’

‘Because I’m going to send them back to you.’

‘You can’t send them back,’ he protested.

‘Why not?’

‘Because they’re a gift.’

‘No they’re not,’ I replied. ‘They’re a peace-token apology so you can delude yourself into believing you’ve a clear conscience.’

‘Sam, I don’t feel guilty about what happened. I’m just sorry at what it’s done to you.’

‘So am I,’ I replied. ‘That’s why I don’t want the earrings.’

‘Why?’ asked Alistair. ‘Don’t you like them? Because if you don’t then I can send you another pair.’

‘Whether I like them or not is irrelevant,’ I replied. ‘The point is that they will always remind me of you. And funnily enough that is not something I wish to remember.’

‘No one’s ever said that to me before,’ he said, sounding rather dejected.

I bet they haven’t.

‘First time for everything,’ I replied. ‘What’s your address?’

‘I’m not telling you.’

‘For God’s sake Alistair, you’re not five years old, what’s your bloody address?’

‘Samantha. I. Am. Not. Telling. You.’

‘Yes. You. Are.’

‘No. I’m. Not. Keep the earrings for godsake! Please.’

‘I’ll be flushing them down the loo.’

‘Do what you like with them. Just please accept my apology, and try to understand that I thought you knew who I was. And that I was married.’

‘So if I knew that would have made it okay, would it?’ I asked.

‘No. But it would probably mean you wouldn’t be yelling at me right now.’

‘You’re lucky that’s all I’m doing.’

‘Sam, I don’t regret going home with you…in fact I’d like to do it again.’

‘Well I bloody well wouldn’t! All I would like is for you and everyone else to bugger off and leave me alone. Goodbye!’

I slammed down the phone.