Page 12 of Rescuing Rosie
‘It’s fine, I’m sure I’ll manage.’ She wished he’d stop watching her, that he’d just go away. He was making her so nervous she was almost certain to fall in again.
‘No, this way’s easier,’ he said. ‘Follow me.’ Without waiting for a response, he set off, his dog bounding on ahead.
In less than a minute, during which neither of them spoke, they were out of the trees and onto a grassy bank overlooking the lake. Not far away was the crew, and Rosie spotted Jono packing up his gear. Madison, wearing leggings and a cropped sweatshirt, was standing beneath a large umbrella heldby a middle-aged man Rosie didn’t recognise – probably her manager. Two more women, dressed in brightly coloured puffer jackets and leggings, were deep in discussion, also under an umbrella – the stylist and Vybe’s PR person, Rosie assumed. Finally, a young guy was helping Jono with the camera equipment and lights.
‘That’s the path back to the hotel,’ said the dog owner, pointing to a well-maintained gravel track winding its way up the slope.
‘How did I miss that?’ asked Rosie, dumbfounded.
‘I cannot imagine,’ said the man. He whistled for Wainwright and set off back towards the woods.
Chapter Six
‘Pip!’ called Jono, spotting Rosie heading towards him. His face broke into a grin as he took in her waterlogged appearance. ‘Jesus Christ, what happened to you?’
Jono gave everyone nicknames; he called her Rosie Applepip, Pip for short.
‘I was trying to cross a stream,’ she said. ‘I failed, and now I can’t feel my feet.’
Jono gave her a hug and rubbed her arms. ‘Dear oh dear,’ he said. ‘Wherever you tread …’
It was true. Rosie was known for being somewhat accident prone.
She felt better for seeing Jono –she always enjoyed his cheerful banter.
‘Have you finished here?’ she asked. ‘I’m going to head back after I’ve said my hellos. I’ve been promised a stiff drink, and I’m going to take it into my bath.’ She pictured herself in a deep, hot, steaming tub full of bubbles, a cocktail perched on the side. ‘God, please let there be a bath. Have we got baths?’
‘Ihave. I’m in Lord Byron. So to speak.’
Rosie snorted. ‘Lucky you. Did Ashley put you in there?’
‘Yes, he moved me from Shelley when he saw all my gear. But mostly because it’s the best room.’
‘Nice one. I had an inkling you two would get on.’
Jono nodded over at Madison. ‘Go say your hellos. She’s a trooper, not what I expected at all. We’ve given up on the outdoors for today – we’re going to relocate to the gingerbread shop, they’re shutting up early for us. We’ll take a break, warm up a bit, then drive on over.’
‘Right you are. I guess I’ll have to postpone the bath until later, then.’
Rosie made her way over to the two women standing under the umbrella. As she approached, their eyes travelled in sync down to her wet trousers.
‘Hi, I’m Rosie fromHolistic Health.’ She clenched her teeth to stop them from rattling. ‘I’m afraid I had a misadventure on some stepping stones – I’m just off to change but I wanted to say hello. I’m here to report on the wellness weekend.’
‘Oh my gosh – you lookfreezing,’ said the shorter of the two women. ‘I’m Kayleigh, hair and make-up.’ She had a sweet smile, and wore a woolly beanie pulled down over her hair, red tendrils poking out from underneath. The rest was tucked beneath a shiny scarlet puffer which Rosie recognised as a Vybe signature piece. These iconic jackets were extra puffy, stopping just the right side of Michelin man, and were coveted for their warmth and shimmer. The other woman’s puffer was silver, and both wore them with leggings. Thermal ones, Rosie assumed.
‘I’m Veronica, Vybe’s publicist,’ said the taller woman. Her shiny black hair was pulled back in a severe, wisp-free bun, and she had the sort of face that instantly made you nervous – Rosie’s mother would have called it ‘hard’. ‘We’re heading back,’ Veronica said. ‘The rain refuses to fuck off, it’s Baltic, and blue skin is not a look I want associated with our activewear.’
Rosie looked over at Madison, whose face was hidden by the umbrella she was huddled beneath. But there was no mistaking the twin globes of that famous derriere, snug in their daffodil-yellow leggings.
Beside Madison was a square-shaped man with close-cropped hair, wearing a dark wool overcoat and leather gloves. A gentleman would have given Madison his coat, thought Rosie. She frowned. And his gloves, too – Madison’s hands were squeezed beneath her armpits as she hopped from foot to foot.
‘I need to go change,’ Rosie said. She’d introduce herself to Madison later, by which time her teeth would hopefully have stilled. She couldn’t remember ever having felt this cold. Why wasn’t it snowing? ‘I don’t know about you, but I hadn’t expected this level of freezing. I’ve only got my denim jacket – major wardrobe fail,’ she said, hoping Veronica would get the hint.
The publicist glanced at her, then called over to Jono. ‘Can you ask the manager to drive us to the shop just before five?’
Rosie wasn’t giving up yet. ‘Part of my brief is to mention your terrific gear at every opportunity,’ she said, as they set off up the track, water squelching in her boots. ‘Which isn’t a problem, as I’m already a fan, and those jackets are to die for.’
‘Aren’tthey?’ said Kayleigh, stroking an arm down her quilted sleeve. ‘I’m so toasty in this!’ Her eyes went to Rosie’s denim. ‘Is that really all you’ve got?’
