Santa Baby (19 page)

And then she made sure she was staring out of the window, as if Sean’s reaction was of absolutely no interest to her whatsoever.

Jez clapped his hands together. ‘Now we’re talking, sister!’

FOR THE NEXT
two weeks Tiffany felt as if her life was on fast forward. She had never been so busy. She appeared on Angel’s makeover show twice a week, and when she wasn’t on that, she was filming inserts for the show, sourcing clothes, and talking to the women with Angel about what image they wanted to be given. On top of that the tabloids, celeb magazines and chat shows were all fascinated by her and she was inundated with interview requests. But so far Tiffany had turned them all down. She didn’t want Angel to think that she was trading on being her sister, and the truth was she wasn’t interested in being famous. She wanted to be known for being a good stylist, not to be famous just because she happened to be a celebrity’s sister. The stylist work was everything she had ever dreamed of. The only downside was that it was hard keeping up with her friends and her family.

When she was finally able to ask them over for Sunday lunch they were completely taken aback by the lavish, luxurious apartment. At first Marie and Chris moved around cautiously as if they were in a museum and couldn’t touch anything, while Lily-Rose tore around checking everything out.

‘Relax!’ Tiffany ordered her dad, who was perched
uncomfortably
on the edge of the sofa. ‘You’re not going to break anything.’

‘I wouldn’t be so sure,’ Marie replied as Lily-Rose danced around the living room, pausing to balance on one leg by the black marble fireplace and look at herself in the mirror. Marie rubbed her hands over her baby bump – now at five months, she was really showing. Tiffany thought her step-mum looked pale and tired, and there were dark circles under her eyes. She hoped Marie was taking it easy, though knowing her she probably wasn’t.

They chatted about how Tiffany’s new job was going and Chris and Marie seemed so proud of her.

‘You look gorgeous as well, love, all glossy and sleek, like the girls in the magazines,’ Marie told her.

Tiffany laughed. ‘I do have to make more of an effort with my grooming. Look at my nails.’ She held out her hands, showing off a perfect French manicure. ‘They’re almost as good as yours.’

Marie, who was not at all a vain woman and hardly wore any make-up, loved having well-manicured nails. And given that she spent so much time doing arts and crafts with small children, this was no mean achievement.

‘Very ladylike,’ she commented, then sighed. ‘But mine have gone to pot, I’ve been too tired to do them.’ She held up her hands and Tiffany saw that the pale pink nail varnish was chipped and her cuticles were uneven. It was really out of character. She must be feeling rough.

‘How about after lunch I give you a manicure? I could give you a pedicure as well, if you like? I bet you haven’t been able to do your feet either.’

Marie shook her head. ‘You don’t have to do that, it’s your day off.’ She managed a smile, ‘You’ve been giving middle-aged women makeovers all week. My nails don’t matter.’

‘I’d like to. And I’m going to.’

‘Can I have one too?’ Lily-Rose asked hopefully.

Tiffany looked at Marie to check if it was OK.

Marie nodded. ‘You can, but we’ll have to take the varnish off before school tomorrow.’

Chris stood up, rubbing his hands together.

‘D’you want one too, Dad?’ Tiffany teased him.

‘I was going to suggest that you do Marie’s nails now and I’ll crack on with lunch.’ As usual Chris was itching to get into the kitchen. He was the world’s worst dinner guest. Tiffany knew from past experience that if she refused his offer, he would only be sitting there thinking about how much better he could have cooked the food.

‘Dad, I was supposed to be cooking you lunch!’ Tiffany exclaimed, sounding outraged when in fact she had suspected this might happen and so had left the veg, gravy, and apple crumble for him to do.

‘I find it relaxing and it would be nice for Marie to have a bit of pampering.’ He leaned down and planted a kiss on his wife’s head. ‘She’s been a bit rundown. I keep asking her to take some time off work, but she won’t.’

‘I’m fine, Chris, and I have to go to work. If I’m not there, the school can’t afford to get anyone else in. You know how hard things are at the moment.’

Chris raised his eyebrows. ‘You’ve got to think of yourself as well, and the baby.’ It was clearly a bone of contention. But Marie waved her hand at him to end it and said jokingly, ‘Get into the kitchen and cook my dinner!’

‘Shall I come and show you where everything is?’ Tiffany asked.

‘Don’t bother, I reckon I’ve got a better chance of finding things – have you actually cooked anything since you’ve been here?’ he replied.

How well her dad knew her! Tiffany shook her head.
‘Nope.
Just Marmite on toast. Oh, and I did have a jacket potato with tuna and mayo once.’

Chris went off to the kitchen, shaking his head.

‘So have you seen any more of the gorgeous Sean?’ Marie asked as Tiffany got down to work. Marie really had been neglecting her nails – they were in a terrible state.

She shrugged, not wanting to give too much away. ‘I see him at work. He’s basically Angel’s full-time bodyguard.’

‘Lucky her!’ Marie said. ‘Not only does she have the handsome Cal Bailey, she’s got sexy Sean too.’ She paused and smiled at Tiffany. ‘But I reckon he really liked you. He was so kind that day, and I saw the way he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. You know how much I liked Billy, but Sean seems to have so much more about him. He would be your equal, not someone you could wrap round your finger.’

Tiffany snorted, ‘Marie, I love you dearly but you are deluded! Sean was just doing his job. He takes it
very
seriously. I don’t think anything else matters to him.’ Oops! She’d sounded a little bitter. She’d better watch that or Marie would pick up on it.

‘But he didn’t have to tidy up your flat after the break-in, and he did. I think he’s lovely.’

‘Well, you can think it all you like. Nothing is going to happen between us.’ And to deflect Marie’s attention away from what was still a rather sensitive subject, Tiffany held up two bottles of nail varnish: ‘Rebel Red or Peach Daiquiri?’

Lunch was a great success; Chris basked in everyone’s compliments for his ‘unbeatable’ roast potatoes and ‘sublime’ apple crumble. Marie seemed more relaxed, and it was lovely for Tiffany being able to catch up with her family.

‘We’re so proud of you,’ Marie said as they hugged goodbye.

‘I’ll second that,’ Chris added. ‘In spite of everything that’s happened, you’ve kept your head screwed on. I always knew you would. Just make sure you phone us a little bit more.’

Tiffany bit her lip. She felt bad that she had been neglecting them all lately. ‘I promise.’ She turned to Marie. ‘And you’ve got to promise to take it easier … Dad’s right.’

Marie rolled her eyes. ‘I’d forgotten how bossy you are.’ But then she smiled and said, ‘I’ll do my best.’

Spending time with her family on Sunday had felt so normal – albeit in a luxury flat – that Tiffany was struck again the following day by how much her life had changed. She met up with Angel in a designer boutique on New Bond Street, along with the film crew from the TV show.

Today the two women were going to be filmed tracking down their perfect dresses for Angel’s thirtieth birthday party. It had been Oscar the director’s idea to bring a bit of glamour to the makeovers.

‘I love our older ladies,’ he had told Angel and Tiffany, in a production meeting, ‘but I think we could do with a bit of a change and your party is the perfect excuse.’

Tiffany just bet he was itching to get some more glamorous shots of Angel, ideally in her underwear. She had overheard him commenting to Robbie, one of the assistant directors, before the meeting, that there were only ‘so many shots of the older lady in Spanx that a man could take’. Angel was not a woman who would ever have any need of control underwear.

Tiffany hadn’t been at all sure that she herself wanted to be the centre of attention, but Angel had
persuaded
her, saying it would be fun. Now, as she was trying on an exquisite midnight blue strapless evening dress, she had to agree. She had never worn such a glamorous dress before. She felt as if she was off to the Oscars ceremony – this dress definitely had red-carpet status.

‘I feel like such a lady!’ she declared to Angel, as she surveyed her reflection in the mirror, turning this way and that, and enjoying the feel of the cool silk swishing against her skin.

‘You look beautiful,’ Angel told her. She sighed as she looked down at the white silk dress with a crystal-studded neckline that she was wearing. ‘Are you sure I don’t look a bit mutton?’

Tiffany burst out laughing. ‘You look amazing! And you’re only thirty! How can that be mutton?’ It was astonishing to realise that someone as beautiful as Angel could be as insecure as any other woman. But maybe that’s what made her such a sympathetic and likeable person; she genuinely didn’t realise how beautiful she was.

‘But how about you try something different on? I’ve seen lots of pictures of you wearing similar dresses and I don’t think you need all that sparkle,’ Tiffany advised her.

‘OK.’ Angel shrugged. ‘Find me something different … you’re the stylist.’

And Tiffany spent a very happy hour finding the perfect dress for Angel. The film crew, of course, loved it, as they got to film plenty of footage of Angel parading around in beautiful dresses. They would have tried to get in the changing room too, given half the chance, but Angel said no, very firmly. Oscar wanted Tiffany to try on more dresses but she had set her heart on the midnight blue dress and wanted to stick to her resolution of not giving too much away. She was back in
her
skinny jeans, a cute red shirt tied at the waist and ballerina pumps.

‘This is the one!’ Tiffany held up an exquisite one-shoulder silk crêpe evening dress, the colour of champagne. It had a long split at the front and had a built-in corset, but absolutely no embellishments.

‘Really?’ Angel asked dubiously. ‘But it’s so plain.’

‘Exactly! It will show you off perfectly. It’s like whenever Angelina Jolie wears a dress on the red carpet … it is always simple. Beautifully designed, but simple.
That’s
the look we should be going for with you. All you need is a pair of pale gold sandals – and some diamond earrings. I’m sure you have a pair of those?’

‘Several,’ Angel admitted. ‘But I hardly ever wear them.’

She took the dress off to the fitting room while Tiffany turned to the camera and said, ‘I hope I’m right!’

She need not have worried. When Angel emerged everyone stopped in their tracks. The cut of the dress emphasised her slender figure and enviable curves, the colour of the silk set off her skin and gave it a golden glow. And because it was such a simple design you just saw Angel, stunning, beautiful Angel.

‘Well, what’s the verdict?’ she asked, looking rather self-conscious as everyone was staring at her.

‘It’s the one,’ Tiffany told her.

‘I’ve really missed you!’ Tiffany declared that evening, pouring Kara another glass of Pinot Grigio. The two girls were meeting at a little bar off Regent Street and were already on to their second bottle.

‘I’ve missed you too, but I get my fix of you by watching the show,’ Kara told her.

Tiffany shook her head. ‘It’s not the same.’ She was feeling more than a little drunk, the roller-coaster past
few
weeks seemed to be catching up with her. And she couldn’t admit to anyone other than Kara how it was affecting her to keep seeing Sean. She couldn’t stop thinking about him; she realised that she had an almighty crush on him. It just showed that the old saying had a lot of truth in it: treat them mean, keep them keen. He had told her that he wasn’t interested and now she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Today when she had tried on the evening dress her first thought had been,
I wonder what Sean will think of me in it?
She was clearly a hopeless case …

‘So come on, we’ve talked about everything else, the show, Angel, your family … and you haven’t mentioned Sean at all. Is there nothing to tell?’ her friend insisted.

God, Kara knew her so well! Tiffany picked up her glass, moodily swirled the wine around in it, then put it back down. ‘There’s nothing to tell from his point of view. Sometimes I think he might be looking at me, but that’s probably me being completely deluded!’ She took a sip of her wine. ‘The trouble is, I still really like him. I still think he’s gorgeous. So sexy, even though his dress sense isn’t so hot and he’s
so
serious.’ She grimaced. ‘And, of course, the big one … he’s not interested in me at all.’

‘I bet he is, but feels he can’t get involved with you because of his work. And Angel and Cal would probably feel odd about him seeing you because of your connection to her.’

Tiffany groaned. ‘How can I stop obsessing about him?’

‘Maybe you will meet someone gorgeous at Angel’s thirtieth. Forget about Sean, there are so many good things happening in your life right now.’

Tiffany was about to say that was easier said than done when two lads approached their table, their gazes
fixed
on her. Instinctively she lowered her head. She wasn’t used to being recognised and didn’t know that she liked it.

‘You’re Angel Summer’s sister, aren’t you?’ The one with the stripy shirt and acne addressed her. Hmm, spots and stripes … a fashion no-no. Tiffany considered pointing it out to him, then reconsidered. He had a hard-looking face. She shook her head. ‘People are always thinking that, but I’m not.’

‘Well, you look just like her,’ the other lad, dressed in a white Fred Perry shirt, put in.

‘It’s her,’ Stripy Shirt said. ‘I don’t know why she’s being so stuck up. It’s not like she’s a real celeb.’

‘Oh, piss off!’ Kara told them. ‘We’re not bothering you.’

‘Another stuck-up cow.’ That from Stripy Spotty. He held up his camera phone and took a picture, which outraged Kara.