The Stag and Hen Weekend (31 page)

Aiden held out his hand. ‘My fault entirely. The name’s Aiden. Aiden Reid.’

‘Hi,’ said Caitlin coolly, ‘pleased to me you. So how do you know Helen?’

‘We used to work together a long, long time ago.’

‘Really? What a coincidence, the two of you being here at the same time.’

‘I’m actually here for a friend’s stag weekend – you might have heard of him, Karl Peters?’

Caitlin’s eyes widened. ‘You mean Karl Peters off the TV? Then . . . you . . . you can’t be! You’re not
the
Aiden Reid are you?’

‘I am indeed,’ replied Aiden.

It was obvious to Helen that Caitlin had known exactly who Aiden was the moment she laid eyes on him. And equally obvious that Caitlin wasn’t the slightest intimidated by his fame. Caitlin had simply chosen to appear star struck because she thought it would flatter his ego.

‘Helen Richards, I can’t believe you!’ said Caitlin. ‘All these years and you’ve never once mentioned that you used to work with Aiden Reid. I’d be bragging about it to everyone I met.’

It was, thought Helen, possibly one of the finest acting performances she had ever seen. Caitlin was positively oozing faux naïve charm and had she not seen first-hand what her sister-in-law-to-be was capable of, even she might have fallen for it.

‘I was just bending her ear about my show,’ continued Aiden, ‘and Helen made such perceptive comments that I think that she’d be right for my production team. I need someone good at the top and Helen could be it.’

Caitlin turned her gaze to Helen. ‘Are you going to take it?’

‘I said I’d think about it.’

‘Right,’ said Aiden, ‘I’m supposed to be playing golf with the boys so I’d better get off but hopefully I’ll bump into you guys later. See you soon?’

‘Yes,’ replied Helen, searching Aiden’s face for meaning. ‘I guess you will.’

10.

Before Helen could spend even a fraction of a second contemplating the complexities of this conversation Caitlin interrupted her, seemingly fired up by her encounter with a celebrity.

‘I can’t believe I’ve just met Aiden Reid!’ she squealed in an uncharacteristic fashion. ‘And he’s such a nice guy too. Did you really used to work with him?’

Helen wished Caitlin would drop her act, but she had to be careful not to rile Caitlin so much that she took it upon herself to start asking questions of Phil.

‘For a couple of years yes,’ said Helen. ‘He was a nice enough guy when I knew him.’

‘But you don’t like him now?’

‘I don’t know him now. It’s been a long time since I’ve had anything to do with him.’

‘But he seems lovely. And him offering you a job, well you must be thrilled. I’m sure it would be much better being a small fish in a big pond, especially working with someone of Aiden’s calibre. You should definitely take it. Think how glamorous it would feel after having spent so long entertaining the kind of people who usually listen to your show – no offence, obviously – but you know what I mean.’

‘None taken,’ said Helen wearily. ‘I’ll bear it in mind.’ Helen hoped that this would be the end of the conversation and that they might travel the last few hundred yards to the restaurant in a comfortable silence but it wasn’t to be.

‘He’s not still married is he?’

‘I don’t know,’ lied Helen. ‘I don’t make a habit of keeping up to date with the love lives of people I used to work with.’

Caitlin didn’t get the joke. ‘Still, he’s different isn’t he? I mean he’s a proper celebrity. Who was he married to again? I can see her face and her name is on the tip of my tongue. It’s Sara something . . . or Sonya . . .’

Helen felt like screaming. ‘Sanne. Her name was Sanne.’

‘That’s the one!’ exclaimed Caitlin. ‘Sanne! She was in that girl band wasn’t she? They had that updated Dusty Springfield cover? Very beautiful as I remember. Absolutely stunning in fact. I’m guessing you don’t know why they split up?’

‘No idea.’

Caitlin wouldn’t let it go. ‘I’d call my friend Beth and ask her because she’s practically got a PhD in celebrity gossip but she’s on holiday in Bahrain at the moment.’

‘That’s a shame,’ said Helen drily as they finally reached the restaurant. ‘Maybe you should call her anyway. It seems an awful waste to have that much knowledge and miss out on the chance to use it.’

Helen made a beeline for her friends hoping to get rid of Caitlin as soon as was humanly possible but unfortunately now that Caitlin had Aiden on her mind it was apparent that she was reluctant to be offloaded.

‘You’ll never guess who Helen and I just bumped into,’ said Caitlin excitedly as Helen closed her eyes and concentrated all her latent psychic abilities on persuading the earth to open up and swallow her whole. ‘Aiden Reid.’

Revealing hitherto unknown amateur dramatic skills the girls sounded totally convincing in their shock and surprise. Helen opened her eyes and as she did so she caught Yaz’s gaze and her friend mouthed a silent ‘Sorry’ across the table.

Caitlin gave the table a blow-by-blow account of the conversation documenting everything from the exact colour of his eyes through to the precise tone of his voice when he’d said goodbye.

‘You almost sound like you’ve got a bit of a crush on him,’ teased Kerry.

‘I think he quite fancied me actually,’ said Caitlin without a moment of self-awareness, ‘but he’s not really my type.’

Helen stood up. She’d had enough and didn’t care who knew it.

‘Of course!’ said Caitlin, ‘you must be starving and here’s me yakking on. I don’t normally eat much at lunchtime beyond a bit of fruit so I don’t really miss it, but I can imagine if you like your food, going without could really make you cranky.’

Too mentally exhausted to rise to the bait Helen headed to the buffet table and picked up a plate. As she tried to choose between a large dish of vegetable lasagne and the beef goulash next to it, Caitlin’s ‘if you like your food’ comment echoed around her head and she put the plate down.

‘I’m so pleased you did that,’ said Caitlin behind her. ‘Carbs at lunchtime are a real no-no and, well, don’t forget we all want you to fit into that dress next Saturday!’

The last time Helen had punched someone she had been eight and the person she had hit had been her older cousin Sam. For reasons known only to himself while visiting from Southampton with his family, Sam had spent an entire morning teasing her, only to act surprised when she finally blew her top as he scribbled on her drawing of a castle. Helen lashed out with her right fist and connected perfectly with his nose, shocking herself so much by the act of violence and its effect (within seconds Sam’s T-shirt was covered in blood) that she had never hit anyone since. As she looked into Caitlin’s eyes and saw all the spite there she felt that same anger. Instead of making a fist, however Helen picked up a serving spoon, poked it fiercely into the lasagne, took out a huge scoop and then gave herself a scoop of the goulash
and
the chicken korma next to it, just daring Caitlin to say a word.

When Helen finally pushed away her plate (with half the food she had loaded on it still looking back at her), some of the girls had disappeared to get ready for the spa’s trademark full-body detox – a ninety-minute beauty session involving dry skin brushing, the application of several different types of poultices and a head-to-toe seaweed mask. Helen’s was happening in a short while and she was feeling both excited and apprehensive. The apprehension was due to the disclaimer at the bottom of the brochure: ‘Please note that the full-body detox may cause some clients to feel overwhelmingly emotional. For this reason please refrain from drinking alcohol, remain hydrated and take time to decompress before and after attending your treatment.’ What with her weekend so far, Helen was afraid she would start foaming at the mouth the minute she walked into the therapy room.

With Caitlin less than two feet away, deep in conversation with Ros and Dee about the intricacies of Aiden’s love life, there had been no opportunity for Helen to talk to Yaz privately, so when Yaz stood up Helen took this as her cue to make her escape.

‘Listen,’ said Yaz, as they stood by the French doors that led to the rear patio, ‘I’m really sorry about dropping you in it earlier, but that is one sly cow you’ve got for a sister-in-law. I had my eye on her virtually the entire time as we came in to lunch and then there was a bit of confusion about what order the treatments were happening and by the time I’d sorted that out she’d gone. I thought about going after her but I was afraid of making things worse.’

‘It’s fine, really,’ said Helen. ‘Actually it was Aiden who bailed me out in the end. He made up some story about wanting to hire me as a producer for his breakfast show but I think Caitlin was too busy flirting to notice how flaky it all sounded.’

‘She was flirting with Aiden?’

‘Uncontrollably. I’ve never seen her like it. Phil’s always saying that because she’s so pretty she tends to give most blokes short shrift. She normally goes for guys with good looks and money, investment banker types and she even makes them work pretty hard. But you should have seen her with Aiden: she was practically all over him from the minute he said hello.’

Yaz laughed. ‘Not that I know him but I’m guessing she’s not exactly Aiden’s type.’

Helen shrugged. ‘You’d hope not, but nothing would surprise me with those two.’

‘So what did he want?’

Helen rolled her eyes. Where to begin with that one? ‘Do you know what? I really have no idea. He was insistent that we went for a walk and took me to this really pretty spot down by a stream and started rambling on about how great it was to see me, how he thought my show was good. Then I finally plucked up the courage to tell him that this is actually my hen weekend and he seemed to go a bit weird.’

‘Weird how?’

‘Well, put it this way, the last thing he said to me before her royal highness turned up was that the reason he split up with his ex-wife was because of me.’

‘Because of you? But that doesn’t even make sense! You hadn’t even seen him since you two split up!’ Helen looked guilty. Yaz was incredulous. ‘Are you saying that you’d seen him before today?’

‘It was just the once, I swear,’ said Helen. ‘About five years ago he contacted me out of the blue basically begging to meet up.’

‘So you said yes? Are you mad?’

‘I must have been,’ sighed Helen, ‘because when I look back the whole thing was more like a dream than reality. We met, we talked, he apologised for the way things ended and then we went our separate ways. It was all over in under an hour. I remember thinking to myself, “Did this really happen?” ‘

‘And you never told Phil?’

‘What would have been the point? I knew I wasn’t going to get back with him.’

‘So why did you see him?’

‘Because I wanted to show him that he hadn’t crushed me. I wanted him to know that I’d moved on.’ She laughed bitterly. ‘Maybe that’s what he wanted too because less than a week later his girlfriend was in all the papers showing off her engagement ring.’

‘And now he’s blaming you for the marriage not working out because, what, he was still in love with you?’

‘I don’t know. None of it makes sense.’

Yaz considered the situation for a moment and was ready to dispense her advice: ‘Seems to me that you’ve got two choices,’ she began: ‘one, you can spend the rest of the weekend driving yourself crazy trying to work it out or two: go and ask him. You can’t just leave it like that, H, you know you can’t.’

‘I’m not so sure,’ said Helen. ‘How would I even bring the subject up and more to the point, do I really want to know?’

‘So you’re just going to leave it?’

Helen shrugged. ‘For now I’m just going to do everything I can not to think about it.’

A combination of Yaz immediately having to dash off for her full-body detox, the lure of the outdoors thanks to the strength of the summer sun, and Helen’s head beginning to ache meant that for the time that she had left before her beauty appointment she did nothing other than grab her things from her room and lie on one of the loungers flicking through a copy of
Harper’s Bazaar
.

She looked at her watch. It was time to go. She grabbed her tote bag and headed across the grass to the Spa.

At the spa reception Helen was handed a clipboard with a form covering everything from her health to her current state of mind. Normally Helen hated filling out forms but as this was more like a quiz in a women’s magazine than a tax return she filled it in with gusto.

A few moments later a troupe of young, white-uniformed girls arrived at reception and called out the name of their individual clients. Helen’s was a pretty auburn-haired girl who introduced herself as Roisin whom Helen warmed to straight away.

The lights in the treatment room were dimmed, a tall scented candle was burning on one of the white marbled surfaces and ‘new age whale music’ was coming from a slim-line iPod speaker. Roisin handed Helen a robe and promised to return once Helen had undressed.

‘Right, let’s have a look at your details,’ she said picking up the clipboard. Her accent was strong and northern. Preston or possibly Stockport, thought Helen, definitely not Manchester.