Santa Baby (9 page)

The she looked back at Tiffany. ‘There’s just one thing … I’d be so grateful if this could be kept between us for now. I’m sure you must have told someone, but I don’t want the press to find out …’ She gave a heartfelt sigh. ‘I’ve really had enough of them picking over my life.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Tiffany reassured her, ‘I’ve only told two people, and I trust them not to say anything.’

The three of them left The Ritz together. Angel hugged Tiffany and again told her how brilliant it had been to meet her, and then she jumped into a taxi.

Tiffany watched the black cab pull away. Even though they didn’t yet know for sure if they were sisters, she felt that nothing in her life was ever going to be the same again …

‘What are you going to do now?’ Sean asked her.

‘I thought you would know my every move,’ Tiffany replied, wanting to provoke a reaction from him. He was just too cool for bloody school! And even though his smile had slightly thawed her, she was still needled that he’d been digging into her life, as if she had something to hide.

‘I’m guessing that you’re going to meet up with your friend Kara, possibly go round to her flat, and have a debrief about your meeting with Angel over a bottle of wine?’

He really had done his research.

‘Very good, Agent Murphy. And what are you going to do? Go back to your secret bunker and plan your next mission?’
Maybe a little too sarcastic
…

‘Actually I’m off to see my daughter, so have a good night and I’ll probably see you in the next week or so.’

And just as Tiffany was softening at the thought of him being a family man, Sean added, ‘And please don’t forget what Angel said about the press. She and her husband have been through enough.’

‘You can trust me on that score! Who do you think I am? The kind of girl who does a kiss and tell? You didn’t do your homework on me at all if you think that, Agent Smartarse.’

Tiffany blamed the half bottle of champagne she’d had for her coming out with ‘smartarse’, which
probably
was a bit rude, but he deserved it. And it had been a momentous afternoon. Before Sean could come out with another annoying comment, Tiffany swung her bag over her shoulder and began quickly walking along Piccadilly, looking for her bus stop. He might be good-looking, but he could do with chilling out more, and less of the telling her what to do.

THE FOLLOWING MORNING
Tiffany was woken by her mobile ringing. It was her dad. Her very upset-sounding dad. ‘Why couldn’t you have told us first, Tiffany? Do you have any idea what a shock it was?’

‘What are you talking about, Dad?’ She reached for her watch. Eight o’clock.

‘I was just out on a job and one of the lads had a copy of the
Sun
. You’re on the front page.’

Tiffany sat bolt upright. ‘What!’

‘It says that you’re Angel Summer’s half-sister. Is it true, Tiffany? Marie is in a right state, worrying about what people will say to Lily-Rose at school.’

How the hell had the press found out?

‘I haven’t said anything to the press, Dad, and I didn’t want to tell you and Marie until I knew for sure.’ Tiffany quickly explained what had happened with Angel so far. She couldn’t believe that her decision not to tell her parents straight away had backfired so spectacularly. She had only ever wanted to protect her family. But by the end of her explanation she was relieved that he understood her reasoning.

‘Sorry, love, it was just such a shock seeing the story … I know you would never do anything to hurt us.’

As soon as she got off the phone, after arranging to go and see her dad that afternoon, Tiffany selected Angel’s number. They had got on so well when they met. Was this going to ruin everything? She imagined how furious Angel would be that the story had got out. Tiffany simply had to let her know that she’d had nothing to do with it.

Angel’s phone went straight to voice-mail and Tiffany could only leave a halting message.

She was about to switch on her laptop and look up the story online when her doorbell rang. Imagining that it was most likely the postman at this time in the morning, Tiffany grabbed her robe and put it on over her Betty Boop PJs. She ran down the three flights of stairs to the front door. She got the shock of her life when she opened the door and was confronted by a horde of photographers crowding up the path, cameras aimed right at her.

‘Tiffany, is it true that you’re Angel’s sister?’ someone yelled out.

For a second Tiffany was frozen to the spot as the cameras exploded in her face, then she slammed the door shut. Oh my God! First of all someone had quite possibly ruined any chance of her having a relationship with her sister, if Angel
was
her sister, and now she had been papped in her PJs! Without a scrap of make-up on! It reminded her of that comic scene in the film
Notting Hill
, when Hugh Grant opens the door to the paps, and then Rhys Ifans goes out and poses in his pants. But having it happen to her wasn’t funny and Tiffany didn’t feel at all like smiling. With a pounding heart, she went back upstairs and slammed her door shut.

There were two missed calls on her phone but they were from withheld numbers. Knowing her luck, they would be from the press. There was nothing from
Angel.
Tiffany looked in the mirror. Her fringe was sticking up in all directions; eye make-up was smudged under her eyes as she hadn’t bothered to take it off the night before. Panda eyes, shiny face, bedraggled hair … It was even worse than she had thought.

Twenty minutes later she was showered, dressed and made up, and now she had five missed calls on her mobile from unknown numbers, but still nothing from Angel. Kara had rung and left a message, but Tiffany didn’t want to speak to anyone until she knew what was going on with Angel. She sent Kara’s dad a text, apologising for the fact that she wouldn’t be able to come to work today. She half-thought about travelling down to Brighton and calling on Angel at home, but dismissed the thought as she didn’t know where Angel lived and nor did she want it to seem as if she was intruding. From the window of her studio flat she could see the front garden and it was still over-run with paps. She felt like a prisoner in her own home. There was no way she wanted to stay in, knowing that they were all milling about outside. She needed to get away.

She decided she would somehow get past the paps, take the tube to Oxford Street and hang out in the shops, before getting the train to her dad’s.

She checked out the story online and groaned aloud as she read the headline:
Angel’s Secret Sister Revealed!
Somehow they had managed to get hold of Tiffany’s profile picture on Facebook, which showed her grinning away without a care in the world. She quickly scanned the story. There was little of substance – just the bare bones of her possibly being Angel’s sister, and how she had confided in ‘a friend’ … the same friend who had told the press. Some friend then, Tiffany thought bitterly. But the article went on to talk about Tanya and her addiction, then about Angel and Cal, raking up his affair, their divorce, her relationship with
the
baseball player. God, no wonder Angel hadn’t wanted the press to find out, if this was what happened.

Her mobile rang. She frowned as she saw Billy’s number flash up and was all set to ignore it, then decided to speak to him. Maybe he and his flatmates could help her get past the paparrazi?

‘I’m really sorry, Tiffany,’ he said as soon as she’d picked up.

‘Sorry for what?’ Then realisation dawned on her. ‘Billy, you didn’t tell the press, did you? I mean, I know you were angry with me, but that is such a shit thing to do.’

He sighed. ‘No, I didn’t tell them, but after I saw you I went home and got hammered and …’ he hesitated ‘… I told Bryan.’

‘Not Bryan Blabbermouth?’ Billy’s flatmate Bryan had a reputation for being unable to keep a secret.

‘Yeah, and he admitted to me this morning that he had told some of the lads on his course, one of whom happens to be the son of a journalist. I’m really, really sorry, Tiffany.’

She knew that Billy was genuinely sorry and could hardly blame him for shooting his mouth off after they had broken up, even though it had landed her right in it. ‘I believe you, and I know you didn’t mean for this to happen.’

‘So is Angel your sister?’

‘I don’t know yet, but she might well not want to have anything to do with me after this. She didn’t want the press finding out.’

‘Tiff, if there’s anything I can do … I could phone her, explain what happened. It’s not your fault, she can’t blame you.’

‘No, it’s OK, Billy, I’ve got to handle this myself.’ She didn’t even want him to help her with the paps; it was best if she kept him well away.

Tiffany ended the call and wandered back over to the window. She peered out – the paps were still there. She shook back her hair and squared her shoulders. Well, so what if they were? She had done nothing wrong, nothing that she was ashamed of. She picked up her phone and called Angel once again, this time leaving a message to say that she knew who had leaked the story and that she hoped Angel would understand it wasn’t something she’d wanted to happen. Then she grabbed her leather jacket, put on her Ray-Bans as worn by Kate Moss in many a pap shot, took one last look in the mirror and marched down the stairs.

Tiffany paused briefly, with her hand poised over the front door handle, listening to the paps chatting outside. Then she turned it and pushed the door open. As before, they leaped into action and started snapping away at her. But this time Tiffany didn’t retreat. She continued walking down the path, doing her best to ignore the cameras being thrust in her face, the shouts, the questions. Celebrities always got into big flash cars to escape when they were being pursued, she reflected grimly as she headed down the hill to Archway tube station, the paps running behind and in front of her.

Naively she had expected them not to pursue her once they realised that she was going away from the house, but it didn’t look like she was going to shake them off any time soon and she didn’t want to be photographed running away from them as if she had something to be ashamed of.

Out of the corner of her eye she became aware of a sleek black car slowing down on the road next to her. A blacked-out electric window was lowered and she saw that Sean was driving. Could he be her knight in a shiny Mercedes?

‘Hey, Tiffany, get in the car!’

Not hello, how are you, are you all right? Just an order. ‘It’s OK, I’m getting the tube, thanks.’ She had no intention of being told what to do, even if it was by the sexy-looking Sean in a flash car! But the paps were seriously stressing her out. It was intimidating being pursued by a scrum of men who didn’t seem like they were going to give up. At this rate she’d be trapped in the same tube carriage as them.

‘We need to talk, Tiffany. Please can you get in the car?’

OK, at least he’d added ‘please’ this time. She may as well travel in style, and the Merc certainly beat the Northern Line plus scumbag paps. She quickly made a dash for it, and got in the car. Within seconds Sean was pulling away from the pavement and the paps. Tiffany felt like flicking them the finger, but thought it probably wasn’t the best idea, as no doubt that would be the picture they’d end up using.

Sean glanced over at her, a serious expression on his face. ‘I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t say anything to the press? Angel’s pretty upset.’

Great! So he wasn’t rescuing her at all, he was giving her a telling off.

‘
I
didn’t tell the press. As I’ve already said, I told two people … my best friend Kara, who would never say anything, and Billy, my ex-boyfriend. Unfortunately I told him the night we finally split up. Remember that night? And when he went home he got drunk, told his flatmate, who told someone else, who told the press. So please don’t give me a hard time about all this, because I’m as sorry as anyone that it has happened. I had my dad on the phone this morning, and he was upset because I hadn’t even told him.’ Tiffany could feel her eyes prickling with tears. It had been a horrible day so far and she certainly didn’t need Sean laying into her.

‘I see.’

Tiffany waited for him to apologise, but he didn’t. Bloody Alpha male.

‘Are you free now? I know that Angel is keen to get the DNA tests done as soon as possible. I can take you to a Harley Street clinic. The procedure doesn’t take long. And I’ll call Angel to let her know what happened.’

‘That’s fine by me,’ Tiffany replied, as if it was a perfectly normal occurrence for her to be driven in a Merc to Harley Street for a DNA test. It was like a scene from a soap opera …

She looked out of the window as Sean expertly navigated the busy London traffic and called up Angel on his hands-free set. She was in the middle of getting ready for her TV show and so couldn’t talk for long. Tiffany felt anxious all over again as Sean briefly outlined how the story had been leaked. Angel didn’t seem to be saying very much, from what Tiffany could gather. She was no doubt still angry. Sean ended the call. ‘She understands completely and says she’ll try and call you later and that you’re not to worry.’

‘I’m probably not even related to her anyway,’ Tiffany muttered. ‘And, to be honest, if that’s what the press are like, I don’t know if I want to be part of it.’

Sean gave her a rare smile, reminding her again of how good-looking he was. ‘Don’t sound so down. We’ll go to the clinic, then how about I buy you breakfast? I’m betting you haven’t had any. But if you don’t mind, it won’t be The Ritz. My wages don’t quite stretch to that.’

Two hours later, they were sitting in a café around the corner from the prestigious Harley Street, both tucking into full English breakfasts. Tiffany was starving after the adrenaline rush of the morning. The DNA test had
been
completely painless and quick – the nurse had simply swabbed the inside of her mouth to collect the cells – and the results would be ready in a week.

‘So how come you work for Cal and Angel?’ Tiffany asked, mopping up her fried egg with toast. Since Sean had found out that she hadn’t leaked the story, he had been much nicer to her and they were actually having a conversation, rather than him giving her a hard time.