All Because of You (Lakeview #2) (9 page)

In the meantime, Freya met the love of her life Simon Ford and soon things began to change. Within a few months, Natalie’s best friend had changed from mad, fun-loving, champagne-guzzling Freya to a sensible, more mature, occasional drinker who, instead of partying in some of the city’s best bars and clubs, now preferred to host sophisticated dinner parties at the new home she shared in South London with her city broker fiancé. 

It was inevitable that their city-girl friendship wouldn’t last forever, Natalie thought, but while she was genuinely thrilled for her friend, she still couldn’t help thinking that Freya’s fabulous new house, her upcoming wedding, and her blissful domesticity seemed to garishly highlight her own lack of progress in this regard. Natalie had been ready to settle down and get married for some time, and the fact that Freya had beaten her to it merely made her want it all the more. Not to mention the fact that everyone she knew – Danni (who was only twenty-five!) included – seemed to be getting engaged and married too and Natalie was now in serious danger of being the only one left behind.

Having decided that it was too late to go out to dinner, Steve had since settled himself comfortably in front of the TV. “You don’t mind, do you?” he asked.

“No, I don’t mind,” she said, slumping down on the sofa alongside him, her pure silk Ben de Lisi now decidedly wrinkled from all the sitting around waiting. “I’ll be up early tomorrow morning anyway. I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on.”

The comment was intended as a jibe but, sure enough, he didn’t seem to notice. Steve was like that sometimes, Natalie thought wryly, the little barbs and remarks that could be so effective at work making no impression whatsoever on her easy-going boyfriend.

Then she sighed inwardly. She hated feeling like this, feeling so out of control, so much so that she’d reduced herself to behaving like some clingy desperate wannabe.  She was thirty-two years old for goodness sake! Sophisticated thirty-somethings did
not
sit around sulking and pouting like teenagers when things didn’t go their way.  No, sophisticated thirty-somethings were mature and adult and
dignified
enough to actually do something about those things. So there would be no more pouting and sulking about this, Natalie decided then – instead she’d have to think of a plan of action, something to help put this situation back on track.  Feeling better now that she’d reasserted some control, Natalie began to think more clearly. Typically, when she encountered a sticky situation – usually at work – she wasn’t the type of person to sit in a corner feeling sorry for herself like she’d done just now; usually she went right ahead and tried to find a solution. But Steve wasn’t work, was he? And Natalie couldn’t just dream up a fast-fix solution to this particular problem – could she?

Over the last few weeks she’d interpreted the situation very badly by convincing herself that Steve was working up to a proposal. Her usually dependable intuition seemed to have deserted her this time, and she didn’t like it. Then again, for some reason her intuition
always
made a run for it when it came to men. 

Although she knew Steve loved her (the sex was
amazing
after all and he said himself he couldn’t get enough of her), the idea of marriage obviously hadn’t yet entered his stupid little head. And this was a problem, because she knew without question that she wanted to marry
him
and had no intention of sitting around waiting for him realise it.  

Natalie’s gaze drifted idly towards the TV programme Steve was watching, some holiday programme or something. 

Steve yawned. “I could definitely do with something like that soon,” he said, nodding at the screen. “The negotiations for this new deal are taking forever.”

And just like that it hit her. A
holiday!
  Perfect!

Natalie thoughts began to race a mile a minute. She and Steve hadn’t really been spending enough time together lately – a week away at some fabulous sunny destination would surely convince him once and for all that she was the one for him. She sighed blissfully. Imagine a week relaxing in the sun at some fabulous hotel, doing nothing but eating and drinking and … well.  Natalie grinned to herself as she stared at the TV. By the time she was finished with him, Steve wouldn’t be able to remember what life had been like without her!

The following morning, Natalie arrived at the offices of Blue Moon, tired and still deflated that last night hadn’t gone exactly as planned. 

As she went upstairs in the lift, she glanced critically at her reflection in the elevator mirror. It was no surprise really that Steve wasn’t interested in taking their relationship to another level. She looked like absolute shit. Her wardrobe needed serious updating, and she could definitely do with losing a few more pounds. But at least the lipo-dissolve sessions she was getting would sort that out. Still, she made a mental note there and then to book herself a fresh appointment with the image consultant she used now and again. In this business, appearance counted for a hell of a lot and, apart from Steve, she was lucky that she hadn’t frightened off the young footballer and his father yesterday! 

Yes, a session with Janet from the Image Agency followed by a good dose of retail therapy at Selfridges would soon set her on the right track. And if she wanted to get to work on Steve properly during their romantic break in the sun, she’d have to ensure her wardrobe was well up to the task! 

Finding the time for all this was another story though. What with leaving the office early yesterday evening, and being out of it for much of the afternoon, she’d be lucky if she found the time to have lunch at her desk for the next few days, let alone factor in an image consultancy. 

Which made her doubly determined to go and see that time-management consultant Freya had recommended. Her friend had secured someone to help her cope with the time constraints of her forthcoming wedding, and Natalie thought she could certainly do with some of that type of advice too.

“She’s fabulous, Nat,” Freya had gushed. “She made me break my time down, not into things to do, but into
blocks
of time. And she reckons I’m
way
too generous with people, and that I should use my time much more constructively.”

Yes, Natalie could certainly do with some of that.  

But speaking of consultants, she thought, saying a quick hello to Danni before going into her office and closing the door behind her, she needed advice from someone in the travel business, and quickly.

She had it all arranged within the hour. The travel rep had informed her over the phone that at such short notice there wasn’t ‘a monkey’s chance’ of getting availability for her and Steve in her preferred holiday destination, St Tropez, or indeed anywhere in the Cote d’Azur. Instead, for this time of year, she’d helpfully suggested Sharm El Sheikh in Egypt.

“Egypt? Isn’t that one of those troublesome places?” Natalie asked, frowning.

“Well, if guaranteed thirty-degree sunshine, warm waters and unadulterated luxury is troublesome?” the travel rep joked. “Honestly, I’ve been there myself and it’s heavenly. Tony Blair goes there all the time – I think he has a holiday home in Sharm actually.”

Well, Natalie thought, if it was good enough for the PM, it was definitely good enough for her and Steve. And when the rep mentioned that the place was a treasure trove of beautiful gold jewellery, she nearly burst a blood vessel trying to make the booking. 

“So, it’s for two adults leaving Saturday ?” the other woman clarified as Natalie gave her and Steve’s details. “And flying first class from Heathrow to Sharm?”

“That’s right.” The flight and five-star hotel were going to cost her an arm and a leg but what the hell – Steve was worth it. And if, as Natalie hoped, the romantic trip abroad took their relationship to another level, well, then it would definitely be worth every penny!

He would get
such
a surprise when she told him, she thought, gleefully calling out her gold-card details. And what man wouldn’t be chuffed with a girlfriend who arranged last-minute luxury holidays abroad, not to mention Chelsea tickets at the drop of a hat!

That morning before he left her flat to go to work, Steve had casually mentioned that he’d kill to get his hands on tickets for the upcoming Chelsea’s Champion’s League opener in Stamford Bridge. In her line of work, piffling things like football tickets were simple to get, and since the beginning of their relationship she’d been arranging such tickets (
corporate box
tickets) on a regular basis. In fact, she did it so often that anyone would think Steve was seeing her
just
for easy access to the tickets, she thought grinning. But of course they’d be wrong.

“Your holiday tickets will be forwarded to your address within two working … actually, because you’re leaving at the weekend, it might be best if you collect them,” the travel rep told her.

“No problem, I’ll send a messenger,” Natalie said.

“And of course, you do realise that payment is completely non-refundable at this stage?”

“Of course.”

“Great. Well, thank you for booking with us, Ms Webb. I do hope to you and Mr Watson have a wonderful holiday.”

Oh, we will,
Natalie thought, as she ended the call,
you can count on it.

Chapter 6

“Mum, can you speak up a little? The line is very bad,” Tara urged, pressing her mobile phone more closely to her ear. But no amount of bad lines could obscure her mother’s disapproving sniff on the other end.

“It isn’t any wonder it’s a bad line, Tara,” she replied tetchily, “and it all
the way out there in the desert.”

Isobel, who had never been abroad in her life couldn’t understand the attraction people had for gadding off on these fancy holidays. And in the desert of all places! “How’s Glenn?” she added, almost yelling, and nearly taking the ear off her daughter in the process. Evidently she felt that her voice needed to be raised in order to carry all those thousands of miles in order for Tara to hear her. “Are the two of you drinking enough water? Or do you have to get it at one of those mirage things?”

Tara bit back a laugh. “Mum, I told you last week – Egypt isn’t just desert,” she said, her own voice instantly echoing back on the line. “We’re staying on the coast in this amazing holiday resort by the sea. Glenn’s out snorkelling on the reef as we speak.”

They
were finally in Egypt and Glenn was in his element. He was a decent swimmer, but as he and Tara hadn’t taken too many holidays abroad over the years, he hadn’t tried snorkelling until now. 

And
she thought, you could get no better introduction to the joys of snorkelling than in the waters of the Red Sea. Even as a non-swimmer, Tara had been able to enjoy the magnificent marine life around the reef of the Egyptian Sinai Peninsula from the jetty by peeking into the incredibly clear turquoise waters and watching a host of colourful tropical fish swim lazily at the edge of the coral reef. 

They were staying in a spectacular and sinfully luxurious five-star hotel overlooking the reef, and since their arrival late Wednesday evening , Glenn had with thrown himself with gusto into the huge variety of water sports available, leaving Tara relaxing by the hotel’s magnificent terraced pool. She didn’t mind. It was great to see him enjoying himself and all too soon they would be back home in Ireland to face the wet and cold winter. 

Now sitting on her hotel balcony, which overlooked the peninsula’s extraordinarily beautiful coastline, Tara once more tried to reassure her mother that she and Glenn weren’t at risk of severe dehydration.

“We’re having a wonderful time,” she told Isobel. “I’ll take lots of photographs to show you and Dad. How is he by the way? And Emma?”

“Your dad’s fine and sends his love!” her mother yelled back, but in the next instant her voice lowered and her tone changed as she added mournfully,  “As for Emma, well, I suppose it’s getting to her that you can afford to go off sunning yourself in Egypt and not a bother on you, while she’s going through all this hardship on her own.”

Tara gritted her teeth. What did they expect her to do – cancel her holiday just because Emma was pregnant? And if her little sister would stop chopping and changing jobs every six months or so, then she’d be well be able
to ‘afford’ to do it too. But of course it was futile pointing out this to her mother, or indeed pointing out the fact that Tara had been working non-stop for the last three years and might just have earned the chance to ‘sun herself’. Grrr.

“Well, I’ll have another chat with her when we get back,” she said, trying to keep the frustration out of her voice. “Tell everyone I said hello, and we’ll see you all again soon.”

“How long will ye be there again?”

Not long enough,
Tara stopped herself from saying. “Ten days in all, Mum – we’ve another full week to go yet.”

“OK then, well … enjoy yourselves!” Isobel yelled once more, before ringing off.

Dressed in the soft squishy towelling robe and satin slippers the hotel provided, Tara stood up from the patio chair, switched off her mobile and went into the bedroom.  Today she would be breakfasting alone. Although, blast it, she thought, gazing out at the brilliant blue sky, it was such a beautiful morning she might just skip breakfast altogether and head straight for the pool. Tara generally enjoyed a good lie-in on holidays, rather than running around at all hours scrambling to get a place by the pool before anyone else did. She didn’t care where she ended up – as long as it was under this glorious sun, little else mattered. But, as the hotel was busy, sun-loungers could be quite difficult to find unless you were up out of bed with the sun.