Tease (28 page)

Tiger and Lydia scooped up everything they could lay their hands on. So did the entire tearoom. Macaroons, buns, croissants, cakes, strawberries, profiteroles and tarts flew through the air in all directions. Tiger laughed like she hadn’t laughed for months. Crumbs rained upon her hair and cream spattered her dress, and she howled with laughter as she took aim. Kris Stewart clicked away frantically, unable to believe his luck as he moved around capturing the action.

Everything blurred in a creamy haze before Tiger’s eyes, but she could just make out what appeared to be a team
of security guards parting the crowds, with Lewis at the helm. A huge lemon meringue flew through the air from behind and hit him in the face. Tiger looked behind her to see a horrified Lydia with her hand over her mouth. The two women looked at each other, then fell about in hysterics. Tiger slipped in spilt cream and went down laughing all the way.

‘Okay, time for a sharp exit, young lady,’ boomed Lewis’ voice as he appeared from above, scooping Tiger up from the floor and carrying her through the carnage to the back entrance, led by the security men.

‘Most bodyguards take a bullet, darling, but I took a pie. Now that’s what I call devotion,’ huffed Lewis as he dripped meringue all over Tiger’s Chanel dress. She held on to him tightly and snuggled blissfully into his strong arms, letting him carry her into the street and all the way round the corner to safety.

Blue had been watching the drama unfold from outside and he now stood by the Towncar bewildered and still clutching a pile of hatboxes. His eyes widened even more as he watched Lewis staggering from around the corner with Tiger curled up in his arms, the pair looking for all the world like newlyweds in love, as the outrageous cakefight continued without them in the tearooms. Not wanting to interrupt the moment he carefully popped the hatboxes back in the trunk of the Towncar and made off for some solitary retail therapy.

* * *

Tiger perched herself on one of the tall brown leather stools of Claridge’s
fumoir
and brushed crumbs from Lewis’ lapel.

‘Well, Rex is gonna have his work cut out for him that’s for sure, patrolling the press after today’s little scene,’ remarked Lewis with a smirk. ‘About time he put in some hard graft.’ Lewis had been less than pleased with Rex’s recent sloppy record on the press front; never mind the piss-poor performance on the bad stories. For example, where the hell had he been today for Tiger’s interview? Rex needed to be reminded that no one was irreplaceable. ‘You don’t seem too concerned?’ noted Tiger, slightly surprised at how laidback Lewis seemed to be about the whole afternoon’s debacle. Lewis’ mobile buzzed. He checked and saw that it was a text from Georgia. He tutted and deleted the message without reading it.

‘Oh it was only Georgia, she can wait.’

‘No, silly, I meant about this afternoon!’

‘Oh right!’ said Lewis, slightly embarrassed. ‘Ah well, how bad can it be? It’s hard to see how a journalist could get too serious about a cake fight. Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves and the magazine will cover any damages.’ He paused. ‘Besides, I know it was Lydia who got me with the pie. So she owes me one,’ laughed Lewis, as Tiger scooped up a smear of lemon filling from his sleeve and sucked it from her finger. She let her eyes linger on Lewis as he chuckled to himself. He had such a gorgeous smile, she thought to herself. She’d never really noticed before;
she couldn’t remember him laughing very often with her at work. A waiter suddenly appeared with napkins to help them clean up.

‘No thanks, do you know how expensive this cake is?’ exclaimed Lewis as he shoo-ed the bemused waiter away before turning his attention back to Tiger. ‘Anyway, one thing I
am
concerned about is
you
.’

‘Me?’ asked Tiger, brushing crumbs from her shoulder. The last thing she wanted to do was explain about the letters. She’d already been through it once today with Blue. Lewis didn’t really need to know, anyway. Blue would look out for her.

‘So come on then. What’s up?’ pressed Lewis. ‘You’ve been so withdrawn lately. You’re losing weight. And today was the first time I’ve seen you laugh properly for weeks. What’s going on? Oh, you’ve missed a bit,’ he said, pointing at a smudge of cream on Tiger’s wrist.

‘I’m not hungry,’ she replied, holding her arm up to Lewis’ mouth. He held her delicately and licked the cream from her skin slowly. Tiger was shocked to feel a warm wave of electricity. Lewis’ lips lingered over the soft underside of her wrist. He closed his eyes for a moment then looked up at Tiger. Their eyes locked for a split second. Instantly they pulled back from each other and reached for their drinks. Tiger gulped her dirty Martini, Lewis swigged his Whisky Mac.

‘So come on then, what’s up?’ continued Lewis. Tiger fiddled with her napkin, wondering if perhaps she should
tell him everything after all. Lewis’ mobile buzzed again.

‘Oh for Pete’s sake, what does she want?’ he muttered under his breath, deleting the text.

‘Hey, it’s okay if you wanna go and call Georgia outside, I’m alright here on my own for a bit,’ offered Tiger.

‘No. Georgia can wait. She probably only wants my credit card number anyway. I want some time with you now.’ Tiger raised her eyebrow at the comment. But the mobile was buzzing again. ‘Oh, this is ridiculous, what does she want? Sorry, Tiger, I’m just nipping out, I’ll be two minutes.’ Lewis strode out of the bar, leaving Tiger perched and nursing her Martini. So he really
is
under the thumb after all, she mused, fiddling with the olives in her glass. Or maybe he just fancies a quiet life away from work and lets Georgia lead the way once in a while. Either way, Tiger was fascinated. So rarely did she see any personal side to Lewis. She blushed to herself as she recalled feeling his heart beating under his shirt when he had carried her in his arms earlier. She tried to push it to the back of her mind.

‘Right,’ came Lewis’ voice as he came back into the bar, ‘I’ve just seen a load of paparazzi outside – they’ve obviously got wind of the fracas earlier and someone’s tipped them off that you’re here,’ he muttered. ‘I’ve told Vladimir to wait out front as a decoy, and I’ve asked the concierge to have another car waiting out back for you. I’ll take you down in a minute. Sorry about this. Drink up and we’ll go,’ Lewis ordered, fully back to working mode and
breaking the spell … whatever it had been back there. But if only Tiger had told Lewis about the letters, and if only Lewis had known what was waiting at home for her in that morning’s post, he would never have let Tiger out of his sight. It was turning out to be quite a day.

Keys. Purse. Moleskin. Scarf. Cashmere cardigan. Make-up bag. Air tickets. Freshening wipes. Moisturiser. Passport … Bingo. Sienna opened it up and looked in the back. Pah! Only Tiger would have a great passport picture, thought Sienna bitterly. Now, the name is … Starr, Tiger. No surprises there, Lance. Hang on, place of birth … Clonmel? Sienna suddenly felt lightheaded.

‘Everything okay in there?’ shouted Blue as he came into the lobby.

‘Er yes, thanks!’ replied Sienna, stuffing the passport back in Tiger’s Hermés handbag before swinging round and holding it out to Blue. ‘Sorry, darling, I couldn’t find them. It was just a faint hope that I might have put them the wrong handbag absentmindedly after the strategy meeting at the office yesterday. I guess I must have lost them after all,’ said Sienna. ‘Where shall I put this?’

‘Oh leave it down there with her cases. I’m sorry you can’t find them – god, if I had a pound for every pair of sunglasses I’ve lost,’ tutted Blue. ‘Were they expensive?’

‘Nah. It’s okay, I’m sure they’ll turn up,’ said Sienna, her hand flying to her own bag to make sure her sunglasses weren’t visible in there. How embarrassing would
that
be.
‘Well, pleased to catch you before you go, wish Tiger good luck for me.’

‘Yes of course. She’ll be back in, like, three minutes if you hang on. Gravy doesn’t like being walked too long when it’s raining. Actually Tiger’s been a bit quiet the last few days, it might be nice if you said “hi”.’

‘Er … no, I really have to dash, I have a cab with the meter on,’ replied Sienna hurriedly.

‘Oh, I can give you some money. It would be nice if you two could catch up.’

‘No no, I’ll be late for work otherwise.’

‘Oh, alright then. Are you okay? You look a little pale.’

‘Yeah yeah, just in a hurry that’s all.’

‘Well if you’re sure …’ replied Blue, walking Sienna to the door.

‘Thanks, appreciate it. See you guys when you get back.’

‘Okay. Mwah, mwah, darling,’ said Blue, half to himself as Sienna was already out of the door into the early morning mizzle and running towards her waiting black cab.

That was easy enough, thought Sienna as the cab rattled the short distance back towards Marylebone. She knew Tiger would have to have her bags packed and passport at the ready for her morning flight to Cannes, and she also knew Tiger liked to take Gravy out to stretch his legs just before they travelled. All Sienna had to do was huddle down and wait in the cab until she saw the pink hair bobbing past, then dive into the house, fob Blue off with some lame story about losing something, then raid Tiger’s
handbag. The only problem was she hadn’t bargained on what she had found.

Dad had had lots of sayings, and he had once told her, ‘Be careful of asking questions you don’t already know the answer to.’ Sienna had always thought it a ridiculously stupid thing to say, since why
else
would you ask a question? Only now, she understood perfectly what he meant. Sienna was shocked. Her parents wouldn’t have lied to her. So what was Tiger doing, being born in bloody County Tipperary? It was possible her mother had given birth while she was in Ireland visiting relatives, but it was odd that no one had mentioned it while Sienna was growing up. She couldn’t even remember any visits back to Ireland during her childhood. If there was family back in Ireland, mother had long since lost contact with all of them before she died. Lance’s words rang again in Sienna’s ears from their conversation at The Ivy … that Tiger had told him she grew up in County Tipperary. Could she be adopted? Could it be that the bitch had lied to Sienna for all these years and they weren’t bound by blood after all? Perhaps Lance might just be useful to her now. Sienna wasn’t fussed about loyalty at the best of times, let alone loyalty to someone who wasn’t even real family.

‘Tiger, what on earth is wrong with you, you’ve hardly said a word since you got here.’

‘I’m f-f-fine.’

‘Look, you’re on in half an hour. Prince Romano’s already
here having his champagne and toasts. If you can’t do this I need to warn Lewis, he’s down there with the Prince and the guests.’

‘No!’

‘No what? No you can’t do it, or no don’t tell Lewis?’

‘I’m f-fine. Just look out for m-me. Okay?’

‘Well tell me what’s wrong? You’re stuttering. You’ve had another letter haven’t you?’ The feathers in Tiger’s enormous plumed headdress quivered as she shook her head miserably. She tried to breathe deeply in her tight corset but only managed shallow panting.

‘No, just … just be a f-f-friend to me, okay?’

Blue felt terrible, watching Tiger in such a state. She only ever stuttered when she wanted to cry. Blue knew she must have had another pink bombshell delivered, and despite feeling like wringing her neck for not telling him, he simply took her into his arms and gave her a long, hard squeeze.

‘Right, lady. Gin. Tonic. Chanel. Lipstick,’ he said, lining up the pre-show ingredients on the dressing table. ‘Cherry and Brandy are in place by the stage to receive your costume. Just throw it all stage right. The Starrlets look unbelievable. The best pony girls I’ve ever seen if I do say so myself. Now you’ve got to do
your
bit. Just get out there and be the best you’ve ever been. Get in your headspace. There’s no room for baggage on stage. You hear? No baggage. Not even a soap-bag.’

Tiger nodded feebly and forced a smile.

‘Good girl. I’m leaving you to do your breathing. I’ll be back at the five-minute call to take you down.’

Tiger waited until Blue had left the room before reaching for her vanity case. She pulled out the pink piece of paper and read it slowly again, as though reading it for the hundredth time would make the words change.

‘LOOK. Forward. 2 your. canNES. show. I. love. shoot. ING. moving. Targets. BANG BANG X’ Tiger reached for the gin bottle and took three large swigs, neat. She screwed her face up as it burnt the back of her throat, and then pounded the dressing table with her fist. ‘That’s the spirit,’ she muttered to herself, ‘nobody tries to intimidate Tiger Starr. Bloody psycho.’ She ripped the letter in two and chucked it in the bin, before reaching for her lipstick and applying a perfect slick of radiant red. With one last pout in the mirror she felt ready to take on the stage.

Sienna paced round her flat agitatedly. Another of her father’s favourite naff sayings was ‘Be careful what you wish for, or it may just come true.’ Sienna had spent all these years hating and envying Tiger in equal measures. The cocktail of intense jealousy mixed with the rejection Sienna derived from the feeling Tiger hadn’t cared about her dorky sister during her childhood gave her the bizarre bitterness of unrequited love and rivalry in equal measures. Of course, Sienna would never arrive at that analysis herself. Instead she recalled how Mum and Dad had always
lauded Sienna as the darling of the family, yet Tiger was always the one being rewarded with the fabulous lifestyle. Every time Tiger was maddeningly lovely and
nice
to Sienna it messed up the carefully constructed picture of the demon sister her parents had instilled in her head, and she hated Tiger even more for that. Couldn’t she just be a bitch? Then Sienna would have a clear reason to hate her rather than having to invent more and more elaborate reasons. Sienna often wished Tiger would just disappear from her life and stop overshadowing her – and now? Well, now, in a funny way Sienna had her wish. Now she had no real reason to feel tied to Tiger. Sienna felt a curious sense of isolation. With no warning she burst into tears, without knowing why. Perhaps at the shock of losing … well, losing a part of her. Everything she had assumed about her family and her sister … was never as it seemed. Instead she had been playing second fiddle to a mere cuckoo in the nest for all this time.