Pride and Premiership (26 page)

“Targeted?”

“Yeah. Any footballer will do for girls like you,” he went on. “But what you didn’t bank on was me joining Netherfield Park Rangers!”

I was stunned into silence.

“NETHERFIELD PARK?” I finally managed to say. Then panic set in. “Stephen, I swear I had no idea you were a footballer! You just said you were between jobs!”

“Well, that’s not what Robbie Wilkins would have me believe,” he replied. “Remember HIM?”

He was being cruel now. “Obviously I do,” I said.

“Nice guy, actually,” Stephen continued. “Offered to take me for a drink. ‘Och, no,’ I said, ‘I gotta meet a girl.’ ” Then he became angry again. “Shoulda seen his face when I told him your name. Says you’d do anything to be a WAG.”

“If that’s what Robbie told you, he’s a liar! OK, I’m not saying it’s never crossed my mind, but with you it was completely different. I genuinely, GENUINELY fell for you.” There was silence. “Stephen?”

But he was gone.

I’ve Googled him. Stephen Campbell – Glasgow Rangers player. He damaged a knee ligament in a game against Dundee United six weeks ago and had an operation, and people were wondering if the English teams interested in buying him would change their minds. Because of his injury and all the pressure and speculation, his manager gave him some time off.

That’s obviously when I met him in Turkey.

Well, Stephen Campbell, you have truly broken my heart.

It has been the toughest few weeks of my life. I’ve literally grieved for Stephen as if he’s died. I’ve thought of him as soon as I open my eyes and felt an ache in the pit of my stomach that has sometimes lasted a whole day. Without the salon to throw myself into, I don’t know what would have become of me. But I just knew I couldn’t let it fail. I’ve had to oversee the decorating, buy equipment, find staff, and finally I’ve spent the last few days leafleting what feels like every street in west London to announce the opening event. (I didn’t want to rely on my Facebook post.) Here’s what the leaflet looks like:

The free treatment and drink was my idea. Uncle Pete (my very cautious business partner) didn’t like it. He said that nothing in life should come for free. But I told him we needed a great promotion to get people through the doors in the winter months and then word would spread by spring. Then we’d have a great summer, which is the peak season for women getting treatments done.

I quoted Deborah Gordon at him (as I have now read her autobiography): “If you give something away, make sure it’s something people will want again.” And why wouldn’t people want to pop into a salon and be golden brown within six minutes, with no damage to their skin?! Why wouldn’t they want a great wax, and the hottest nail colours on earth from manicures and pedicures that are 10% cheaper than Kara’s? My gamble is that they will, as long as the standard is good. And it will be – I’ll bloody make sure of that. Dad (my more easy-going business partner) agreed with me. God bless democracy.

Today we have to buy the bubbly and snacks and make some last-minute touches to the salon to make sure it looks pristine. But most of all I want to enjoy tonight. This opening party feels like my reward, and I know it’s going to be sheer hard slog after this.

Came home to get ready and found the most fabulous Victoria Beckham dress on my bed! Opened the card lying on top of it, which just said:
Go get ’em sis! Love Malibu x

I love Malibu so–ooooo much!

I have a new number-one moment in the top-ten moments of my life!!

Tonight couldn’t have gone better, even in my dreams. So many people turned up – friends, strangers, old workmates (Natasha and Blow-dry Sarah) and even enemies! Tara (spit, spit) Reid couldn’t resist the free champers, I suppose, but who cares? She set foot in MY salon and actually said something nice to me, for the first time ever (“Yeah, looks all right”).

There were so many people that at one point we couldn’t fit them all in and had to take snacks out to them on the street.

Mum came with Alan and tonight I was the nicest I’ve been to him for months. Mainly because Dad is clearly over Mum – a red-headed yummy mummy was on his arm when he arrived.

“Very nice to meet you,” I said after Dad had introduced us.

“And you. I hear you’re the new Deborah Gordon,” she said, smiling.

Malibu and Gary were there, of course. Malibu’s all protruding belly but is so skinny everywhere else, you can’t even tell from behind that she’s pregnant. Gary looked so happy. He kept touching her tummy, and seeing that made me hope even more that the baby is his.

Kellie/Jack came, still wrapped around each other at every given moment, and James was there too.

“How did it go with your mum and dad?” I asked, because I knew he’d chickened out of coming out to them three weeks on the trot, but he’d said yesterday was going to be the day.

“Um… Chickened out again,” he confessed, and we both laughed.

Spencer arrived with his new girlfriend – who isn’t too bad, actually. OK, I admit, she’s great – bubbly and quirky, and definitely more right for him than me.

“I’ve heard so much about you,” she told me.

“I swear it’s all good,” Spencer added.

Then … the Feminazi turned up!

“It will be very interesting to have some competition up the road,” she said. “But I couldn’t think of a better person to be up against.” She smiled. “I knew you had it in you, Remy.”

“Thanks, Kara,” I gasped.

And it was in the middle of talking to her that I saw him standing just inside the door, smiling at me, still in possession of those bloody gorgeous lips.

Stephen?
I thought. And I began to feel angry about all the unreturned calls. In my head I wanted to walk up to him, slap him in the face black-and-white-movie-style and say, “You cad!” But in my heart I couldn’t help thinking,
Is that you? Is that REALLY you?

I walked up to him, playing it cool, even stopping to say thanks for coming to a few guests. Then when I was finally standing in front of him, I tried to calm my heart – which was now pounding through my chest – by cracking a joke. “Hi, stranger. I almost didn’t recognize you without the crutches.”

“You did it, Remy,” he said. “And I’m really proud of you.”

He looked at me and my insides started tingling, and all the hurt formed a huge lump in my throat.

“You know,” I began, trying not to cry, “you really should have given me a chance to explain.”

“I’ve thought of nothing else for the last month,” he replied. “And I’m hoping you’ll forgive me, Remy, because I’ve missed you. I’d love us to try again… If you’re up for it, of course.”

And then Stephen Campbell put his mouth on mine and kissed me in front of the entire room.

NOW
, I thought,
I know the meaning of perfect
.

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