Famous (44 page)

Dogs bark and the caravan moves on. That place is crying out for a revamp and some new blood. Hell! Even I know how dated it is.’

I had to laugh. It might be dated, but it was also so very Elsie.

‘Now, when are you coming back to visit us?’ she asked.

‘I’m not sure,’ I sighed. ‘I really want to but work’s just so busy at the moment.’

‘Well, we’ll all be waiting here for you when you’re ready love. Take your time.’

I felt as though her words had a double meaning, but I wasn’t sure what it was.

‘I will. I miss you.’

‘We miss you too luvie.’

I said goodbye and ambled along the corridor to the meeting I was almost half an hour late for. I couldn’t be bothered running.

I was supposed to be going to a bar opening with Mands and Lizzie after work, I think it was another one of Darcy and Samuel’s. But I was just too tired to make an effort. For some reason the idea of getting dolled up and going to a bar was, well, decidedly unappealing.

I phoned Mands and made my excuses.

‘Well, what exactly are you going to do?’ she asked. ‘Stay home and wash your hair?’

‘Probably,’ I replied, laughing.

‘Are you sick?’ she asked, sounding concerned.

‘No,’ I replied. ‘I’m just a bit tired and I can’t be arsed getting glammed up.’

I heard a sharp intake of breath. Followed by a long pause.

‘You must be sick,’ she replied. ‘You should go to the doctor. Now.’

Mands tried every ploy in the book, but for once in my life I was unswayable.

I went home and I did wash my hair. And then I cooked myself some dinner. And then I decided to phone Ethan.

‘Hi,’ I greeted when he picked up the phone. ‘It’s Sam.’

‘Hey stranger!’ he replied, a smile in his familiar voice.

‘Crushed any balls lately?’

‘Oh, just a few,’ I laughed.

‘How are you?’ he asked.

How was I? I wondered.

‘I’m…okay,’ I answered. ‘It’s good to be back but it feels, well, kinda strange at the same time.’

‘Take your time,’ he encouraged. ‘You’ll be back into the swing of things before you know it.’

I really hoped so.

‘And how have you been?’ I asked. ‘What did you get up to today?’

‘Oh, you know, stitched a dog’s foot, put a horse to sleep, delivered a calf.’

‘You delivered a calf without me?’

‘Well, I was thinking about ringing you and asking you to drive back and help. I could have done with your expertise.’

‘Very funny,’ I laughed.

We chatted away together just like old times. We talked about Elsie and Bob, about Mack and Abbie, about the farm, about Mands and Lizzie, about all kinds of stuff. Before I knew it we’d been chatting for over an hour.

‘Okay Sam,’ he said. ‘I’d better let you get some shut-eye before tomorrow.’

‘Okay then,’ I agreed, although I didn’t want to go.

‘Lovely talking to you.’

‘You too,’ I replied. ‘I’ll give you a call again soon.’

‘That’d be nice. Take care of yourself Sam.’

I put down the phone with a smile on my face. It was nice to know that even though he was far away Ethan was still the same old easy-going chatty person. And that even though I had left we were going to stay friends. His friendship was something I really didn’t want to lose. Ever.

The following night, Mands, Lizzie and I went out to dinner at Prego. It was my long-awaited welcome-home dinner, and Manuel was making a special meal just for us. With strict instructions that it should not involve Tahitian vanilla beans, not in any way, shape or form. We sat at our usual table by the window. It was wonderful to be able to sit in a restaurant once again, in public, with my two best friends, without the fear of being harassed or recognised. Just like the good old days. It seemed the public had forgotten me as quickly as they had found me, and I was more than happy with my new found anonymity. Happy to be just another girl, sitting in a restaurant, with her two friends.

‘Cheers girls,’ said Mands, clinking our glasses of bubbles.

‘Here’s to the long-awaited return of Samantha Steel!’

‘Here, here!’ chorused Lizzie.

But before I had a chance to clink Lizzie’s glass, her mobile, which was sitting on top of the table, began ringing.

‘Lizzie speaking. Yes. That’s right. Correct. Customs?

Yes. I beg your pardon? You’ve what? You’ve got to be bloody joking! When? And what EXACTLY are you doing with it?’

The conversation did not appear to be going all that well. Lizzie had slammed down her glass of champers and was getting progressively redder in the face. She was now also standing up at the table and shouting into her phone. The people at the tables around us were listening in. Truth be told, they had no choice in the matter. In fact, the entire restaurant was listening. And staring. Mands and I looked across the table at each other and raised our eyebrows.

‘And when EXACTLY are you planning on releasing it?’ demanded Lizzie. ‘TELL ME you are joking! No! YOU listen here,’ she shouted. ‘I don’t think you UNDERSTAND. I am OVULATING! I said OVULATING! And I need that SPERM now! NOW! Do you HEAR me? I said NOW!’

Mands and I looked at each other again and smiled.

It was good to be back, I thought to myself, taking another sip of champers. Oh, how I’d missed them.

Two weeks later, after taking time to settle back into my apartment and my job, I decided to phone Alistair. I still found it difficult to get to sleep at night with the noise outside, and I was still waiting for my career drive to return, but I knew I couldn’t keep him waiting forever.

Epilogue

Exactly one year later I stood at the crest of the green grassy slope, looking down at the large cluster of people gathered under the willow trees by the stream.

‘Oh for fucksake!’ exclaimed Mands. ‘Goddamn cow shit! What are the odds?’

It appeared she had once again managed to find herself a cowpat to stand in. She took her heel off and furiously rubbed it across the grass.

‘Quite high round here, dolls,’ replied Lizzie, as her hand gently circled the enormous belly poking out from under her beautiful mint-green frock.

She looked so radiant, there was a good chance her head might just glow itself right off.

‘You ready, love?’ asked Dad, smiling at me. ‘Guess we’d better follow these two.’

‘I guess so,’ I replied, smiling back at him and taking his arm.

He looked so dashing in his navy suit. It was lovely to see him out of his apron for a change. We walked down the gentle slope, following Mands and Lizzie through the borders of forget-me-nots which had been laid out on the grass for us to follow.

I could see him standing beneath the tallest and greenest willow tree, facing away. I would recognise that tall stature and those broad shoulders anywhere. We walked through the cluster of people. Our friends, and family. There was Vicky holding little Max in her arms. The Steel female stronghold had finally been broken with his birth, much to my father’s delight. There was Susie, smiling madly, a gorgeous new bloke on her arm. There were Darcy and Samuel, looking for all the world like two
G
Q models. There was Jenna, holding her small daughter’s hand. There was Gareth, his two little boys at his feet, and his pretty new girlfriend at his side. There was stunning Jasmine, and her very foxy boyfriend James. And there was my mother, or at least I thought it was my mother.

Christ alive! She appeared to be wearing a frock! All my life I had been positive she would turn up at my wedding wearing army pants. I gave her a smile and she smiled back. She looked beautiful. Standing next to her and beside Bob, was Elsie, not that I could have missed her in the hot-pink suit she was wearing, with matching hat and handbag. She gave me a huge grin and a little wave. I waved back. She had so much more energy now she had sold the café. Her arthritis had even decided to give her a much-needed break. The new owner had kept the name, and the red-checked tablecloths, but had slowly changed nearly everything else. She had even put in a proper Italian coffee machine. It was now possible to get a decent coffee in Floodgate. All of Elsie’s recipes remained though, along with the ones the new owner had added.

‘Change is as good as a holiday, love,’ said Elsie, who still came in at least twice a week to give me a hand or to just have a chat. I was always glad for the help, although my cooking had come a long way and I could now make a date scone to rival even hers. Business was good. Floodgate had earned a bit of a reputation as a peaceful getaway over the past year and with more accommodation being built the visitor population had soared. I would never make as much money as I had in the city, but I made a living nonetheless. And there was something to be said for living, I decided. Plus, it was still virtually impossible to find any clothing, beauty treatments, or skincare products to hurl your notes at here.

And then we were there, Dad and I. Stopping. Dad gave me a kiss on the cheek and a smile and moved away.

‘How’re ya doing, little lady?’ whispered Ethan. ‘You look stunning.’

‘Positively crapping myself,’ I replied. ‘But in a really lovely way.’

He smiled down at me and I smiled back.

‘Who would’ve thought?’ he whispered.

‘Yes,’ I whispered back, smiling. ‘Who would’ve?’

That night, while karaokeing to
I Will Survive
with Mands and I, Lizzie’s waters broke, exactly one week early.

‘The kid couldn’t have picked a better song to arrive to,’ observed Mands. ‘It’ll be well equipped with the lyrics.’

In light of the nearest hospital being one hundred kilometres away and the local doctor being one of the wedding guests and, in his own words, ‘too tanked to be delivering any wee babies’, Ethan was given the honour, with the drunk doctor’s assistance.

‘Sure, what’s the difference between a cow and a woman?’ said Ethan, much to Lizzie’s horror.

But although he’d never delivered a baby before, he did it effortlessly and calmly. And although Lizzie had never given birth before, she was a natural. Heaving and pushing all through the night, as if it were just another day in court. Mands and I left the technical stuff to Ethan and instead stood on either side of the bed, each holding one of Lizzie’s hands, providing words of support and simultaneously managing to plough our way through three bottles of champers.

‘Give me some!’ demanded Lizzie, lunging for my glass. I gave her a swig.

At quarter past six the next morning Lizzie was cradling her baby in her arms and crying her eyes out. With happiness, of course. It was a gorgeous, perfect, beautiful little baby girl.

Mands and I sat on the bed beside her crying our eyes out too. With happiness, mixed with a bit of drunkenness. Me still in my white wedding gown and Mands in her mint-green bridesmaid’s frock. We were a little the worse for wear after our all-night baby-booze-bender.

‘Shease a woverly bebe,’ said Mands, stroking the baby’s head, perhaps a little too enthusiastically.

‘Shease esh beautifulsh,’ I agreed, holding one of her tiny hands in my own. And she was. Simply beautiful.

‘Whashername?’ I asked.

‘Isobel,’ replied Lizzie.

‘Ah…Ishabelle,’ sighed Mands and I.

‘Get a load of these two,’ said Lizzie, to the sleeping baby girl wrapped in a white cloth. ‘These are your godmothers. God help you.’

Ethan appeared back in the doorway.

‘How’s my beautiful bride?’ he asked.

‘Bit pished,’ I replied.

‘Go on, get out of here,’ instructed Lizzie, as Ethan came over to the bed and lifted me up into his strong arms.

‘Let’s get you to bed then,’ he said, carrying me out of the room, and not even coming close to knocking my head on the doorframe.

By the time he carried me down the hall and gently placed me onto our bed I was fast asleep. Or passed out, if you’re a stickler for details. There would be no consummating of vows this morning. But what the hell? We had the rest of our lives to consummate to our hearts’ content.

As for my slice of fame? Well, the odd media stalker has tracked me down over the past year. A few months ago there was a picture in the
Telegraph
of me line dancing with the caption ‘Samantha Steel Getting Down on the Farm’. But this wasn’t as exciting as shagging the captain of the national football team, so it was only on page six.

As for the captain of the national football team? Well, he and his wife went through a very public and messy divorce a couple of months back. She did quite well out of it, from what I’d heard. Although I didn’t hear much because, quite frankly, I didn’t care to. Alistair finally decided to leave me in the peace I had requested, although I still have the earrings to remind me of our public rendezvous (or rather Mands does, it’s her turn). Whenever I’ve seen his picture in the paper, or in a magazine, it’s always with a different woman hanging off his arm. As for Tiny Tits? Well, she’s just had her biography published of course, by none other than Alexander Carroll. I think it’s called
The Sideline Wife
, or some such bollocks.

Making Lemonade – Preview…

I hung my head in shame as they wheeled me across the gangplank and onto the boat. Well, after they stopped the boat and turned it back around that is, someone finally noticing that I was still sitting on the jetty. I’d been hoping they’d forget about me and leave me there forever, so I could quietly wheel myself off the side and into watery oblivion.