Wags To Riches, page 7
“I won’t” I say, lying through my teeth. I’m already worrying about how I can lose half a stone and turn myself into a gorgeous goddess in just a few weeks. Oh God. I must have a magazine with an emergency diet plan in somewhere.
Chapter 8
Okay I’m really nervous now. We’ve just arrived at the hotel and Adam is turning into the underground car park. I was fine on the way here – talking to Adam and listening to the CD I’d bought him for Valentine’s Day - it’s some R&B thing that he said he would like. It’s not what I would normally listen to - me being a bit of an indie chick and all that, but it’s not bad actually. Now we’ve got here though and I can see all these posh cars in the car park, I’m feeling nervous and totally inadequate. I have singularly failed to lose any weight as well. It didn’t help Adam sending me a huge box of chocolates and a dozen red roses for Valentine’s Day. I couldn’t see him as he was playing that night, so I stayed in, watched Love Actually and ate nearly all the chocolates. I’m such a pig. At least I couldn’t eat the flowers.
Adam parks the car and turns to me. “You alright?” he asks. “You’ve gone awfully quiet”.
“I’m alright” I say, “I’m just feeling a bit nervous”.
“Why?”
“Well I don’t know anybody and they’ll all look down on me” I say, looking away. I feel so stupid admitting that.
“Gail - look at me” Adam says and I turn back to face him. He takes hold of my hands. “Nobody is going to look down on you. They’re just people at the end of the day. They are all nice and dead easy to get along with.”
“I’m sure they are” I mumble.
“You’ll be fine!” Adam says. “And you’ll look gorgeous in your new outfits!”
“Well that’s true” I concede and laugh. I’m so modest. And I do have the fabbest shoes in the universe to wear as well.
“So come on – let’s go and check in and have some lunch. I’m starving!” Adam says.
“Okay” I say feeling a teensy bit reassured and we get out of the car.
“I do like your bag” Adam says as he lifts my battered red adidas holdall out of the boot. “It’s really retro! Where did you get it from?”
“I’ve had it for ages” I say. “Gosh - it must be ten years old at least!”
“You’re ahead of your time!” Adam says smiling.
“Not really” I reply, fastening my jacket, “I think if you keep something long enough, eventually it will come back into fashion”. Apart from ra-ra skirts and pinstripe denim. Let us hope that they never come back into fashion. Bleurgh!
We go up the stairs to the hotel and walk into a beautiful foyer with plush carpets and large vases of flowers everywhere. Wow. We approach the huge, highly polished mahogany reception desk and the three staff behind the counter beam at us.
“Hello Mr Finchley” one of them says. “Welcome to the Dalton hotel!”
“Thanks” Adam replies, “I’ve booked two suites?”
The receptionist runs his finger down a typed list on the desk. “Ah yes – the Balmoral for yourself and the Princess suite for Miss Auden. If you’ll just fill these forms in, I will get your keys and get someone to take your bags up to your rooms”. He gives us the forms and I can’t help but smile at Adam delightedly. The Princess Suite! That sounds fantastic! I hope it’s as nice as its name implies. We complete the checking in forms and the receptionist gives us our keys
“Is the restaurant open for lunch?” Adam asks and the receptionist nods. “That’s great because I am starving!” Adam says.
“I am as well!” I say, “Breakfast seems an awfully long time ago”. Several days actually.
“I hope you enjoy your stay and of course the wedding tomorrow,” the receptionist says smiling.
“Thank you” we reply and walk towards the lift. We step inside and Adam presses the button for the top floor.
“All the suites are up there,” he explains as I reach for his hand and squeeze it tightly.
“Thank you Adam for this! I can’t believe I’m in the Princess suite,” I say, beaming at him.
“Apparently it is one of the best – if not the best - suite in the hotel,” Adam says casually.
“Gosh! I’m impressed already and I haven’t even seen it yet!” I say jokingly as the lift comes to a stop and the doors open. We step out into a corridor lined with plush creamy coloured carpet, walking down it for a few moments until we come to a solid oak door with a brass label on the outside that reads ‘Princess Suite’. “This is me!” I say and tentatively open the door.
What a fantastic room!
There’s a lovely four poster bed - all white, with white bedcovers and white voile curtains round it and at the far end of the room three sweeping steps lead up to a white leather sofa that curves round like a letter ‘C’ and looks like it could seat at least six people. A large plasma TV screen stands at the side of the sofa and there’s a glass coffee table in front. There’s also a sparklingly clean bathroom, which is as big as my living room at home through a door on the right and also an archway on the left, through which there is a dining table and four chairs. “Oh wow!” I exclaim, walking through to the dining area, “There’s even a mini Smeg fridge! How cute is that?” I’d so like to take that home! I open the fridge to find it full of champagne, wine, fizzy water, orange juice, Maltesers, Minstrels and bars of Toberlone. That’s me set up for tonight! Who needs a posh dinner? Near the dining table is also a small writing desk and on it a small wicker basket stuffed full of packets of nuts, different flavour crisps, Twiglets and Japanese rice crackers. “Yum!” I say to Adam as I look through the basket, “All my favourites! This room is great!”
“You haven’t seen the view properly yet” Adam says, walking back into the main room. We walk up to the sofa, the wall behind which is all glass and I can see for miles and miles across London. It’s amazing. “Look at that view!” I say to Adam. “I’m going to go out on the balcony and have a better look” and I open the door that leads out there. Adam follows me and we stand for a moment looking around.
“Gosh Adam - this is fantastic!” I say and go to hug him. “Thank you so much for booking this for me!”
“I’m glad you like it” Adam says smiling. “I hope mine’s as nice. I’ll go and find it while you unpack if you like and then call back for you?”
“Oh no – I want to come and see what your room is like” I say hastily, “I want to make sure my suite is nicest. Otherwise we’ll have to swop” I add as we go back into the corridor and Adam laughs.
“I am not staying somewhere called the Princess suite” Adam says firmly. “If the lads found out, I’d never hear the end of it” and I laugh.
“I’m really looking forward to the spa treatments this afternoon” I say. “What are you going to do while I’m in there?”
“I’m going in the gym for a bit, then I’ll have a quick drink with the lads before I get ready for dinner” he replies. “Shall I come and call for you about 6.30?”
“That would be great” I say. That gives me plenty of time to get ready and sample some of the delights of the mini Smeg fridge before dinner. I mustn’t eat all the Maltesers though otherwise I won’t be able to fasten my dress.
Must save some for later.
****
After admiring Adam’s hotel room, unpacking and having a very nice seafood salad and glass of wine for lunch, I head for the spa while Adam goes to the gym. I pause just to text my Mum and Alex to let them know we’ve arrived safely and also send them some pictures of the hotel suite and the view from the balcony. Alex texts me back immediately, saying it looks amazing. I can’t quite believe that that is my room myself even though there’s my stuff everywhere!
I arrive at the entrance to the spa and take a deep breath before opening the door. I’ll be fine. I’m sure the people will be very nice. Gosh - it’s like I’ve stepped into another world! The reception area seems to be made out of grey stone, it’s dappled with gentle light and the sound of plinky-plonky New Age music can be heard faintly in the air. There is a girl sat behind a desk and it looks like there are miniature waterfalls running down the wall on either side of her! The effect is mesmerising and I can’t help but look at it in wonder.
“Can I help you?” she asks in this strange, almost ethereal voice. She looks me up and down and it’s obvious she thinks I’m in the wrong place. “Did you want an application form for the cleaner’s post?” she asks.
I’m so taken aback I can’t think what to say. God - how embarrassing. “Er – no” I say blushing. “My name is Gail Auden – I’ve booked a couple of treatments for this afternoon?”
“Oh right. Sorry” she replies airily. “Are you staying here?” she asks in a tone of pure disbelief. Excuse me?! Yes I’m casually dressed in skinny jeans and jumper, but I don’t look that scruffy! She’s annoyed me now.
“Princess Suite” I say loudly. “The treatments were booked by Adam Finchley? We’re attending the wedding here tomorrow?”
She blinks and then writes my name and the suite name down. What I’ve said seems to have registered at last! “Oh yes – you’ve got the luxury facial booked, a manicure and the aromatherapy massage. Do go through!” she says in a much more friendly voice. “Here is your locker key to put your things in and here are your complimentary dressing gown and slippers,” she adds, handing me a large hessian bag. I open it and inside, exquisitely wrapped in tissue paper are a very soft and fluffy white dressing gown and matching slippers.
“Thank you” I say.
“All wedding guests who use the spa also get a complimentary selection of toiletries when you leave” the receptionist adds.
“Oh how kind”. Now that’s more like it.
“If you can just sign this form and then go through to the changing rooms when you are ready” she says. “They are just down the hall, on your left”. I sign the form and walk down to the changing room. That will be one to tell Adam – that I nearly got a job in the spa as a cleaner!
I go into the changing room and put on the dressing gown and slippers over my underwear, shoving everything else into one of the lockers. This dressing gown is lovely! Right – I’m ready. Facial first I think. I walk through the changing room and go out of another door, marked ‘Entrance to Spa’. Blimey! I seem to have walked into some kind of rainforest! I feel like Mr Ben when he used to go through the magic door in the dressing up shop. There are really realistic looking mossy rocks and ferns everywhere and in the centre of the room is a beautiful pool lit with pale green lights. Gosh! There are a group of glamorous looking women sat together near it - I wonder if they’re wedding guests as well? I think I’ll ask one of them where I need to go for the facial as I could be wondering round this place for days. I make my way carefully over the boulders and ferns towards them.
“Excuse me” I say, “I’m here for a facial. Do you know where I’m supposed to go?”
One of the women sits up from the sun lounger and smiles kindly at me. She’s got long, black, wavy hair, perfectly styled. A look I could never hope to achieve in a million years. “You go through that door there,” she says, pointing to a white door marked ‘Treatment Room 1’. “Me and Sharon -” she points to a woman with sleek, bleached blonde hair and grey eyes sat next to her, “- are going in too in a moment. You can come with us if you like”.
“Thanks,” I say.
“I’m Gina” the dark haired woman says.
“Gina?” I repeat. “Are you Gina Armstrong-Jones? Marrying Tim Winters?”
“Yes I am - why?” Gina replies, looking slightly alarmed. “You’re not a journalist are you?”
I laugh. “No I’m Gail - Gail Auden, Adam Finchley’s girlfriend?”
Gina’s face clears. “Oh hi! Great to meet you at last! We’ve heard all about you! This is Sharon, who is engaged to Tony Cardwell” and Sharon grins at me “And who, incidentally is one of my bridesmaids tomorrow, along with my sister Olivia”. She gestures towards another woman sat a little way away who waves lazily. “This is Sally, who is married to the Grandmere goal keeper, Mick” and points towards a girl with a sleek brown bob.
“Hi Gail!” Sally says warmly. “Nice to meet you! Settling in okay?”
“Yes thanks – the hotel is lovely!”
“Which room are you in?” she asks.
“The Princess Suite” I reply and Sally gasps.
“I wondered who’d got that!” she says. “Mick tried to book that for us, but it had already gone. So you got it did you – you lucky thing! It’s supposed to be one of the nicest suites here,” Sally says, smiling at me.
“Oh it is – it’s lovely!” I say smiling back, basking in the knowledge that Adam obviously went to a lot of trouble to book that suite for me and feeling all nice and special. Just then a waitress comes over with several bottles of champagne and champagne flutes.
“On the house Miss Armstrong-Jones” she says, putting them down on a little table, “To celebrate your marriage tomorrow”.
“Oh thank you, that’s very kind!” Gina says and opens one of the bottles. “Would you like a glass Gail?” she asks as she pours the champagne out.
“Yes please, thank you” I say and she hands me a glass. But I must start cutting down on my booze intake soon. I don’t want to end up homeless and roaring and wheezing under a bridge somewhere clutching a can of Special Brew.
“To Gina and Tim” Sharon says and we raise our glasses in a toast, “And to a fantastic wedding tomorrow!”
“I’ll drink to that!” Gina says smiling.
“Yeah - so I’ve been to New York three times for fittings for my dress,” Gina is telling me while the spa beautician smears some kind of green, clay like gloop all over my face “And then I had to go to Italy for my shoes...”
“Gosh!” I say, “Sorry – what does this do again?” I ask the beautician.
“It draws all the toxins out of your face,” she replies, slapping some more of the gloop on my forehead.
“Oh right” I say, “Though I think it’s only toxins which hold me together!” and Gina laughs.
“What is your dress like Gina?” I ask.
Gina smiles. “Oh Gail it’s beautiful. I know I would say that because it is my dress but it is lovely. It’s ivory with a fitted, strapless bodice and there are hundreds of tiny Swarovski crystals all over it”.
“That sounds really nice” I say. I dread to think how much it cost.
“Oh it is,” Sharon says as she sits up and idly removes two slices of cucumber from over her eyes. “Didn’t get much change out of ten thousand did you?” she adds and Gina laughs.
“No I didn’t” she says. Good God. I can’t imagine spending that much on a dress.
“Have you seen it then Sharon?” I ask and she nods.
“I went to one of Gina’s fittings with her in New York” she says casually, like she’d just got the bus with Gina into town. This is a whole other world to me this is.
“I went for two fittings and on the third time, bought my dress home” Gina explains, “and Tim was strictly forbidden to look in the box!”
“And what colour are your bridesmaids wearing?” I ask.
“Well, I’ve gone for a red and gold theme for the wedding – I thought quite warm colours as it is so cold this time of year – so Sharon and Olivia will be in red and the room will be all red and gold as well”.
“Ooooh - nice!” I exclaim. “Hey – my dress is gold as well Gina!”
“Oh, what’s it like Gail?” Sharon asks with interest and I explain.
“That sounds really nice Gail. Where’s that from?” Sharon asks.
“It’s from a designer called Alenta Chimera. Adam and I went into this shop and I saw it and fell in love with it,” I say.
Sharon sits upright. “You’ve got an Alenta Chimera dress for the wedding?” she asks.
“Yes” I say cautiously, “why?” I bet she’s got a reputation for making really rubbishy dresses or she’s out of fashion or something. I don’t care. I’m still wearing it.
“She’s only like one of the best designers – like – ever!” Sharon says, her eyes wide.
“Really?” I say in surprise, “I’d never heard of her before I bought - well before Adam bought me - that dress”.
“Oh it’s a very exclusive range,” Gina asserts.
Sharon nods in agreement. “Her stuff is fabulous, but it’s all one off pieces – they are usually snapped up in minutes” she says. “There’s already a waiting list for her summer collection. You were really lucky to get that dress!”
“Gosh” I say. “Lucky me then!” Style icon that’s me, although I don’t look very stylish at the moment with all this gunk on my face. Thankfully, the beautician starts to wipe all the clay off then and I gingerly touch my cheeks. My face feels really soft and smooth. I lie back as she gently massages my forehead and temples. It is so relaxing; I hope I don’t fall asleep!
“Did you manage to sort out the flights for the honeymoon?” Sharon asks Gina.
“Where are you off to?” I ask sleepily.
“Dubai” she replies, “But not till the season finishes”.
“That’s a bit tough” I say. “Can’t Tim get any time off?” and laughs and shakes her head.
“Footballers don’t get time off Gail!” she says. “Not until the end of the season. We’ve got the wedding night here, two nights at the Ritz in Paris and then Tim is back training on Tuesday afternoon”. “It’s okay honestly,” she continues as a beautician applies moisturiser to her face, “That’s why most footballers wait till the summer and the end of the season to get married. Tim and I didn’t want to wait though, so we found a gap in the fixture list and arranged everything for then”.
“That’s nice” I say and smile.
“I know – it makes you want to throw up really doesn’t it?” Sharon says and we all laugh.
“Hey – you wait until you and Tony tie the knot!” Gina retorts smiling.
“Oh no thanks! I’ve seen the organisation that went into this wedding and I don’t think I’m ready for that yet” Sharon replies. “I’m quite happy just spending his money at the minute” and I laugh.
