will arrive later today from London. I’ve arranged for an executive mini bus to collect them.” She waved her hand at him urgently. “So you’d better get a wiggle on brother, before this bad weather sets in.”
Matt sighed heavily. He was so damn tired and just wanted to fall into his bed…not that he would actually get any sleep.
“Pippa, this conversation is not over,” Matt grumbled as he grabbed his battered but favourite Barbour coat and car keys.
“Oh and you need to pop into a supermarket and grab some sparkling Perrier water on your way,” she shouted over her shoulder.
“What?” He sighed and looked up at the ceiling in defeat, no longer able to gather the energy to get angry.
“Anastacia’s agent emailed a rider list and the only thing we couldn’t get in the village was Perrier, so you need to grab some. Oh and don’t forget your phone.”
Matt caught his phone and pocketed it.
“I updated it for you. You’re welcome.”
He stared coldly at his sister, mentally counting to ten before he dropped the keys to his Range Rover back on the table and grabbed the keys to the Stud’s twenty year old land rover, used to ferry around bedding hay and feed and other necessities. It was most certainly not what the haughty America’s Top Model or whatever she was, would be expecting. He gritted his teeth at the thought of his quiet life being invaded by a woman who was no doubt a shallow, fame-obsessed wannabe accompanied by her equally annoying sycophantic entourage.
“George, come.” Matt patted the side of his leg and whistled.
He cursed to himself and absently raked his fingers through his hair; crossing the snow covered driveway towards the truck wondering how his day could go any further downhill and deciding that he’d simply stay out of the way—out of the house if necessary. Pip’s timing couldn’t be any worse: one of his ’mares was showing signs of an imminent delivery and his experience told him that she faced a potentially difficult time. The last thing he needed was a group of pompous big city dwellers who’d create nothing but upheaval and shine an unwanted spotlight upon his home.
***
Mrs Henderson and Pip stared at the snow cloud formed on the drive as Matt accelerated away from the house, and looked at each other.
“There’s going to be fireworks,” Mrs Henderson chuckled, crossing her flour covered hands over her apron.
Pip smiled mischievously. “Well someone needs to rattle his feathers and shake him up. Let’s hope he’s thinking ’Emily who?’ after the next couple of days, hey.”
The co-conspirators clinked their tea cups together in celebration of a job well done.
***
Anastacia couldn’t stop her hands from shaking as she tried repeatedly to put the plane’s phone back in its holder following the most important phone call of her life.
“Oh God, oh God, breathe girl just breathe.” She repeated the mantra to calm her racing heart, breathing in and out slowly and trying to remember her yoga techniques; her hands moving up and down in sync…well, that was useless.
She yanked out the phone again and dialed. He answered after a couple of rings.
“It’s me. Guess what?”
“Erm, I’ll go with… you’ve decided to become a nun and you want me to design a totally bodacious habit for you?”
“Alix honey, people don’t say bodacious anymore. You’re showing your age.”
She heard him suck in a breath in disgust. “You take that back or else I’ll make you look like Miss Bloody Piggy, or worse.”
“Amanda just called.” She let the statement just hang in the air teasingly until she heard his sharp intake of breath as he connected the dots.
“You got it didn’t you, you bloody well got it. I knew it, tell me you got it.”
“I got it.” She held the phone away from her ear as he screamed and eventually decided to join in, tapping her feet on the floor in delight.
Eventually they ran out of air.
“Oh pumpkin, I am so proud of you. God I can’t believe my girl is going to be the face of Passion. Wow, just…ha, do you remember when we used to flick through all those fashion magazines at school. You always loved those moody arty black and white Passion adverts and look at you now. Well done babe, I’m so proud.”
She swallowed the lump which had formed in her throat at his praise. He was genuinely proud of her achievement. She could always count on Alix. She could only count on Alix, she quickly amended. “We’ve done all right haven’t we. It’s everything, all my dreams come true, but now I’m scared Alix. What if I mess it all up? Three years is a long time and they’ll have huge expectations. They’ll want their pound of flesh. Skinny flesh,” she emphasised.
“Nonsense, you won’t mess it up, you’ve got me. I won’t let you. New York baby!!” Alix went off screaming again and muttering about all the plans he had for them in New York while she half listened, knowing Alix could entertain himself for quite a while without needing her input or encouragement. Talking with Alix always soothed her. She reclined her chair on the private Gulf Stream jet, closing her eyes. She hadn’t gotten much sleep over the last few nights and spent most of the time tossing and turning waiting to hear from her agent. She’d taken a sleeping pill earlier in the day in the hope that it would help her get some sleep on the plane, then the call had come through.
“So did you manage to pack some clothes for me?” she asked, stifling a yawn.
“Yep, got ’em. So what exactly happened in Italy? You sound like you’ve been partying too hard babe.”
She decided to ignore his quip about partying. Telling Alix she wasn’t sleeping would only lead to an inquisition and she wasn’t ready for that. “A complete nightmare. Take one over-emotional photographer and an equally stroppy designer having artistic differences into the mix and what do you get? Both of them storming off the shoot in different directions leaving me shivering in the middle of a bloody fountain in a bikini wondering what the hell just happened, and having to wait around ’till they kissed and made up. Honestly these dramatics are turning into an occupational hazard in Italy. So what time’s your flight?”
She could hear the background commotion and sounds of his fellow disgruntled passengers. “Er, well, it’s saying on the board that it’s delayed at the moment. It’s a good thing you could arrange to fly straight there from Rome rather than trying to come back to London first. I don’t think anything is landing or taking off from Heathrow at the moment.”
“Hmm, well, okay. Will you let me know when you know more?”
“Will do. So, have you spoken to her yet?”
She let out a long breath before responding. “What’s the point? I’ll just get Angela. I speak more to my mother’s assistant than I do her. Anyway she’ll be out at some LA premier and then I’d be sat waiting for her call; which we both know won’t come so…” she shrugged her shoulders.
“Don’t you dare let her spoil this for you.’ She’s not worth it. But I know you’ll call her anyway, won’t you?”
“Probably.” She could see him rolling his eyes at her and shaking his head.
He groaned out loud before continuing sheepishly. “It goes without saying that I’ll owe you big time for doing this for me, I—”
“Alix, you’re my rock. I’ve lost count of the times you’ve been there for me so don’t you dare say thank you to me for spending a weekend in Yorkshire modeling your creations. It’s the least I can do for you, okay?” She owed him more than he would ever know.
“Okay,” he mumbled. “So what’s involved with Passion