Page 29 of Rescuing Rosie
‘Madison’s very tired,’ said Lucas, eyeing Rosie with suspicion. ‘Ashley’s asked the guests not to disturb her.’
‘Oh, I’m knackered too,’ said Rosie. ‘Long day. I think I’ll have a cup of tea. Would either of you like one?’
Madison looked up, shook her head, looked down again.
‘No,’ said Lucas.
Without taking her eyes from her book, Madison said, ‘Where’s Dale?’
‘Dale?’ said Rosie, innocently. ‘I think he left.’ The antique clock on the mantelpiece showed it was still only 9.30pm. ‘Maybe he wanted to get his beauty sleep, ready for tomorrow. Did you enjoy the dinner?’
Madison nodded. ‘Yeah. Had to table-hop and talk to the punters, cos that’s part of the deal, but they were quite sweet really.’ Finally, she smiled. ‘And then I chatted with Ashley, and he’s such a doll.’
‘Isn’t he! Hey – I’m staying on next week for a few days, and he’s said he’ll take me climbing, up that really big mountain. Hell … Hell something.’
‘Hell on earth? Why would you wanna do that?’
‘Not sure, but I do. I got a little taster today, when I was walking back with Ant. It actually felt amazing, climbing a hill – well, a small rocky thing. A crag, perhaps.’ She remembered her moment of weightlessness – her lightness of being – as he’d lifted her to the top.
‘Ant’s sweet, with his dog,’ Madison said. ‘Dunno what he’s doing working with that wanker Dale.’
Wow. Clearly hell hath no fury like a celebrity scorned.
Lucas looked up. ‘Madis–’
‘Oops. Off the record, Rosie, not that he’s famous, so no one’s interested in my opinion of him anyway. Hey – you go on up if you’re tired, babe,’ she said to Lucas.
‘You want to check this post first?’ Rosie noticed the look in his eyes as he waited for her to reply. Concern … affection.
‘Sure.’
He hopped out of his chair and sat on the arm of hers, and their heads bent together. ‘That’s quite a nice one,’ she said ashe scrolled through what Rosie assumed was a draft social media post. Madison looked up. ‘What’s your mag’s Insta handle? Or yours?’
‘Oh – @holistichealth and @rosieappleby.’
‘Tag them,’ Madison said to Lucas, then she sighed. ‘Holistic bloody Health. And to think, not so long ago I was on the cover ofHello.’ She touched Lucas’s arm. ‘Just add in whoever-the-fuck supplied the dress and that’s good to go. Schedule it for whatever time you think best.’
‘Okay boss.’ He said goodnight to the two women and left the room.
Rosie checked the kettle was full, then flicked it on. ‘Sure you don’t want a cuppa?’
‘Oh go on then. Black, no sugar.’
‘Custard cream? Chocolate digestive?’
‘Are you mad?’ Madison swept a hand down her body. She was wearing a shapeless long grey cardi over her bandage dress, and the contrast in styles made Rosie smile.
‘I’m surprised they’d even put out plates of biscuits,’ said Rosie, biting into one, ‘given it’s a health retreat. And as for the cocktails –’ she dropped teabags into china cups, ‘–lethal. Welcome to Grasmere Heights – please leave your inhibitions at the door.’
Madison gave a small smile then resumed reading, and while Rosie waited for the tea to brew, she quickly googled the star’s age. Thirty-four. She glanced over at Madison’s mirror-like forehead, her plumped-up lips, her forests of eyelashes, her sculpted cheeks. Both sets of sculpted cheeks.Thirty-four. Why would a beautiful, young-ish woman feel the need? This was the story Rosie wanted, but she’d have to tread carefully.
She placed Madison’s tea down on the nearest coffee table and sat down in the armchair next to her. ‘What are you reading?’
‘Dostoevsky,’ Madison replied, without looking up. She let the stunned silence hang for a moment, then met Rosie’s eye and laughed. ‘Joking. It’s a Catherine Robertson.’ She flashed the cover at her. ‘I love a good romance, though I hate the way the authors make up these perfect blokes, because nothing in real life ever comes close.’ She sighed. ‘They basically set us up for disappointment.’
Rosie saw her chance. ‘But Madison, you’re beautiful, famous, ahugesuccess. You could have your pick of blokes!’
‘My pick of the tossers, for sure. But do you honestly think any decent bloke would take me seriously?’
