All Because of You (Lakeview #2) (11 page)

“I’ll have a Mai Tai, and a chicken sandwich,” Natalie told the Egyptian waiter, who was busily trying to avoid looking at Natalie’s magnificent bust, his religion and culture totally at odds with all this Western exhibitionism. But refreshingly, Tara thought, the girl seemed totally unaware of her beauty and the effect she was having on all the surrounding males in the vicinity.

“And I’ll have the virgin Poco Loco and a pizza,” Tara told him, throwing her usual healthy eating habits out the window. To hell with it, she was on holidays.

“Well,” her new friend
smiled, when the waiter had taken both their orders and left, “thanks to you this holiday mightn’t turn out to be such a disaster after all.”

Chapter 7

Later that evening, Natalie sat alone in the hotel, still quite unable to believe that she was in this amazing place all alone. It was such a pity that Steve hadn’t been able to make it. 

Such a pity because he’d sounded so eager when she’d first mentioned her grand plans for a holiday.   

“Sounds good,” he’d said. “I could do with a break.  Like I said, we’re in the middle of a huge deal at the moment, and it’s been hard going. After all this, I’d jump at the chance to get away.”

As a property developer, Steve didn’t have to keep nine to five office hours like everyone else and (unlike Natalie) could easily get away at the drop of a hat. This had been the main reason she’d been so confident about booking it at such short notice.   

“So, I’ll let you know when would be a good time for me, and we’ll talk about it then, OK?” he told her.

Natalie gulped. This was obviously not the time to tell him that she’d already arranged the entire thing, first class flights, five-star hotel, lock stock and barrel and that they were leaving in a few days’ time! But she’d been certain that Steve would be fine with it in the end. After all, what man
wouldn’t
want to be whisked away on a last-minute holiday by the woman in his life? All men loved an assertive woman, didn’t they?

So, later that week, she’d phoned Steve, and excitedly left a message on his answering machine, informing him that she’d booked them a fabulous last-minute break in Egypt, and they’d be leaving first thing Saturday morning.

And by the end of that particular week, Natalie sorely needed a holiday herself. 

It had easily been the toughest few days at work in living memory. Midweek, Michael Sharpe had been involved in a punch-up with his team mate, not in a nightclub, but right on the football pitch in full view of the fifty thousand or so spectators at the match. He’d got in a strop because his team mate, a younger and more inexperienced player, hadn’t passed the ball to him at a crucial stage, which Michael believed was an offence deserving of a punch in the eye. But it got worse. When the referee tried to intervene, Michael promptly spat in his face, earning himself an immediate red card and, Natalie reckoned, a three-match suspension for his troubles, if not more. Having just about managed to get the
Sun
story pulled earlier that week, she just couldn’t
believe
that Michael had got himself into more trouble so soon. Player altercations she could handle, spitting at referees was a different story altogether. Still, she’d had to do something to try and save face, and that evening she and Danni had stayed till all hours at the office and brainstormed until the two had eventually come up with something that would serve as a decent excuse as to why he’d lost the rag on the pitch.

“We could say that Clara had threatened to leave him unless he stopped his boozing and wandering eye,” Danni suggested and Natalie wanted to hug her.

So, with a speed that would put the Schumachers to shame, they’d arranged an exclusive interview with the
Mail on Sunday
for the following afternoon during which Michael carried off a truly Oscar-winning performance as a ravaged and tormented human being, terrified of losing his family. 

“I don’t know what I’d do without Clara – she’s my rock,” he’d sniffed. “I couldn’t cope – I try not to bring my problems onto the pitch, but once I got out there, I just cracked. It was all too much for me.”

Natalie had to admit that the man was good; for the benefit of the photographer, he had even managed to produce real tears.

“My family mean everything to me!” he wailed. “If I don’t have them, all the medals and trophies in the world mean nothing.”

Clara had no more threatened to leave him than she had to give up shopping, but painting such a doleful picture of this talented player, haunted by demons and so upset over family meant that he at least gained sympathy from fans and most importantly, from certain sections of the media. Everyone loved a tortured genius.

So, thanks to Danni and Natalie’s savvy bit of PR, come Sunday, Michael Sharpe would no doubt be once again restored to position as England’s most adored and even-more-indulged footballer.

But by the weekend, Natalie had been feeling the effects of a full week’s troubleshooting, and was only too ready for a relaxing week abroad. 

However, in the meantime, and with all the hullabaloo with Michael, she hadn’t  managed to get Steve on the phone, and instead, she’d texted him the details of their flight and arranged to meet him at the airport. Obviously, he was trying to get this property deal tied up before they went, so much better to just let him get the job done and then they could both enjoy their time away. Then, on her way to Heathrow in the cab on Saturday morning, she’d sent him another text telling him she’d meet him outside WH Smiths in Terminal 2.

Almost immediately Steve phoned.

“Natalie, I can’t go on holiday with you today!” he said, sounding flustered. “What on earth made you think I could?”

“But it’s all booked, Steve! We’re flying out this morning. You knew that!”

“I did
not
know that! You told me you were thinking of booking a week away for us at some stage. As far as I was concerned it was just an idea! Then when I got these texts telling me we were flying out this weekend, I didn’t know what to make of it. To be honest, I thought you were having me on.”

“But –”

“Natalie, are you out of your mind? What made you think I could just drop everything and take off for a week at such short notice? I have a business to run!”

He sounded very upset, considerably more upset than the situation merited, Natalie thought. After all,
he
was the one leaving her stranded, after more or less agreeing to go on the holiday with her!

“Natalie …” Steve paused for a moment. “Nat, this is coming across a little bit weird … a little bit heavy, to be honest.  And the thing is – ”

“The thing is what?” Natalie asked, her nerves instantly on alert.

“I don’t like being railroaded – into anything.”

Sensing that she’d crossed some invisible line, Natalie’s heart began to race. “Look Steve, we obviously got our wires crossed here,” she said quickly, her voice unnaturally bright. “I really thought you were fine about this trip, so I went ahead and booked it. Obviously I was wrong.”

“Yes, you were.”

This was followed by an uncomfortable silence, and Natalie wanted to kick herself.  Why oh why had she pushed it – why had she been so impulsive? Of course she should have checked the details with him, of course she should have made sure.

But when Steve eventually spoke again, his voice had softened somewhat. “You’re right. Maybe I didn’t make things clear enough. But look, why don’t you go along without me? You said yourself you badly need a break from work.”

The idea of going on holiday alone, quite frankly, sounded a little sad to Natalie, but then again, unlike Steve she
could
get away. Jordan King had since signed with the agency and her boss, Jack was so pleased about that, he’d have let Natalie fly to the moon if she’d wanted to.

“Honestly, you should go,” Steve insisted. “And I’ll pay you back for the money you lost on my ticket.”

“Oh, don’t be silly. It was my fault for booking it in the first place without consulting you properly.” It
had
been rather rash of her. But he’d seemed quite enthusiastic about the idea initially so …

“Even so, there is no point in letting a perfectly good holiday like that go to waste,” Steve went on, his tone now sounding rather impatient, she thought.

Natalie bit her lip, trying to decide one way or the other. She’d really wanted this time alone with Steve – time to make him see how important she was in his life, and how he couldn’t possibly live without her. “I suppose.” 

Eventually, and after considerable encouragement from Steve, Natalie decided that she would go. If anything it proved to him that she was an exciting unpredictable woman, who was confident and assertive enough to go on holidays on her own. So, she bid Steve a regretful goodbye over the phone, and promised to call him when she got to the hotel in Sharm el Sheikh.

“I’ll be very busy over the next few days,” he’d told her, his voice sounding tense once again. “So it mightn’t be that easy to reach me.” 

“OK, well, don’t work too hard,” Natalie said, her eyes welling up a little as she finally began to come to terms with the fact that he really wasn’t coming with her. “I’ll really miss you.”

“Yeah, me too,” Steve said, before ringing off and leaving Natalie staring out the window of the cab. From the sound of his voice, the poor thing was obviously very stressed by this deal, she decided, putting her phone back in her bag. Never mind, she’d speak to him when she got back. In the meantime, she’d just have to try and get through this week on her own. 

Now, in the hotel, as she got ready to go out for dinner, Natalie sorely wished Steve were here. How the hell had she got things so mixed up? She’d been certain he’d be able to come with her.

Oh, well, there was no point in worrying about it now, she thought, smoothing her dress down over her thighs. She was here – on her own – so she’d better just try and relax and enjoy herself. After all the fretting and worrying she’d been doing lately, she deserved it.

That evening, having spent an enjoyable afternoon sunbathing and chitchatting with Natalie by the pool, Tara got ready to go out to dinner. 

Glenn – who’d finally returned to the hotel room a good hour after Tara had finished sunbathing – was still wildly enthusiastic about his scuba-diving lessons, but weary after the initial preparation.

“First, I had to swim a couple of hundred metres, then the instructor got me to tread water for a full ten minutes, which was hard going on the calves I can tell you,” he told Tara as they made their way to the Souk, the hotel’s popular Beduoin-themed restaurant area. Situated outdoors on the uppermost level of the building and overlooking the bay, the Souk consisted of a variety of five different restaurants, some offering traditional Lebanese and Middle Eastern
mezzeh
, curried and spiced meals, hummus and
aish –
a type of Egyptian flatbread. Another specialised in mouth-watering Mediterranean food reflecting the traditional cooking of Spain, Provence, Italy and Greece, while the chefs at the Oriental kitchen prepared seafood, noodles and rice dishes judiciously seasoned with soya sauce, oyster sauce, rice wine, sesame oil and lemongrass. And a typical choice of Indian and Middle Eastern pastries, sweetmeats and Turkish delights from the desert kitchen nicely finished off a meal. 

Guests could, on any given evening, choose from a range of dishes from any of the five kitchens, meaning there was no shortage of variety and little chance of anyone getting bored. The balmy outdoor setting and fragrant mosaic of herbs and spices in the air, set against the background of traditional Bedouin music and rhythmical drumbeat, made for an exotic and enjoyable Arabian experience.

Glenn and Tara both adored exotic food and, upon reaching the Souk, he wasted no time in finding them a vacant table overlooking the tip of Naama Bay, the bright lights of the town twinkling brightly against the darkness. Glenn, however, was less interested in the view, and more in getting the attention of one of the waiters, eager to get started on the food. 

“I’m starving,” he told Tara. “I think I’ll try something from all five places tonight.”

“Won’t all that extra weight affect your buoyancy?” Tara teased, studying the drinks menu.

“I don’t know, but all that training sure makes me hungry,” he replied, before trying to smother a yawn. “Not to mention exhausted.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather wait and do this scuba course some other time?” she asked, her voice full of concern. “We’re only here for ten days and it sounds like you won’t have much time to relax.” 

According to Glenn, the scuba-diving course was to take place on three consecutive days, and in order to successfully achieve his PADI open-water diving qualification, he would, along with the training, also have to complete two open-water dives – a punishing schedule in Tara’s estimation.

“Nah, I’m not bothered about relaxing,” he assured her. “I’d much rather be doing something interesting. And I’ve been dying to do this for years, so I wouldn’t dream of giving up now!”