Authors: Ilana Fox
‘And what about you? Will you use Danny’s success as a platform for your own work?’ Jim asked, looking at his notebook as though the question didn’t really interest him. But Ella knew it did. This was the part that would prove to everyone she was more than a footballer’s wife. It would show everyone she was
someone
.
‘I’m really fortunate that doors open for me because I’m married to Danny,’ Ella began smoothly. ‘But I’m not sure you could say it’s a platform for me. People who idolise Danny on the pitch aren’t interested in what I do, especially not my fashion work.’
‘You work in fashion?’ Jim asked, as he raised an eyebrow. Was Ella going to be the new Victoria Beckham and launch a fashion label?
‘I’ve just done some work with
Cerise
magazine. I do pieces where I create high-end fashion outfits with lifestyle and current affairs in mind. It’s fashion with a twist,’ Ella said, remembering that last sentence from the press release Aaron had insisted the magazine put out.
‘I’m not the sort of girl who likes to sit around looking pretty,’ Ella continued, her wide violet eyes shining as she thought about
Cerise
. ‘I like fashion, I like current affairs, and I like the fact that I’ll be able to merge the two, and to bring about a more serious side to looking good.’
Jim stared at Ella for a moment. He’d interviewed WAGs before – vacuous types who doted on their husbands and didn’t have a single original thought to their name – but this one was different. Jim had agreed to do the interview as a favour to Aaron Kohle as they went back years, but he could see now this wasn’t going to be a puff piece. This could, potentially, be the newspaper profile that announced her to the world. Ella was a mixture of startling good looks and a decent brain. In a WAG, it was a dynamite combination.
‘Tell me more,’ Jim said with interest, and he leant forward as Ella began to speak. ‘What gets you going, and what sort of current affairs will you feature in the magazine?’ Ella smelt good – of orange blossom and roses – and she looked amazing. If he wasn’t a married man, and she wasn’t Danny Riding’s wife, he would have been interested. Very interested.
Ella silently blessed the fact she’d watched
Newsnight
earlier in the week and began talking about how the recession had affected the British fashion industry. Her face was so serious, and she spoke with such feeling that Jim couldn’t help but be surprised. Okay, so she wasn’t exactly an economist, or the most intelligent woman he’d ever met, but she had something. A spark.
‘So where do you see you and Danny in five years’ time?’ Jim asked, turning the conversation back to her. Whatever he’d thought of Ella Riding previously, he was practically in love with her now.
‘Hopefully still being blissfully happy with our life together,’ Ella answered with a smile. It was all she wanted. She wanted Danny and herself to keep being exactly how they were, for ever and ever.
Jim reviewed his notes and thought about what Ella had been talking about, and how well she’d come across. England was desperate for a new sweetheart, and Jim knew that this profile piece would turn her from a moderately well-known WAG into a person in her own right. She was intelligent, self-assured, and the perfect role model for girls of all ages. Yes, she was married to a rich footballer and lived a life of luxury, but she was making the most of this opportunity to better herself, not to gain column inches or to show off. He’d never known anything like it.
‘I think that’s a wrap,’ Jim said, as he turned his Dictaphone off and grinned at Ella. He felt honoured to be chosen as the first to interview her, and was certain that as soon as his piece was published, Ella would be a star. Move over Victoria, there was a new girl in town.
Ella sat back in her red leather seat and smiled contentedly. She’d just finished watching the first
Sex and the City
movie, and for the first time since she’d married Danny, she felt she identified with someone else. Her life was turning out to be just as impressive as Carrie Bradshaw’s: she had the perfect man, the perfect new job, and a wardrobe that could rival Carrie’s. Yes. Life was good.
She was just missing three equally glamorous friends to share it with.
Ella briefly thought about giving Stacey a ring to see what she was up to, but decided against it. What would she talk about if Stacey asked about her day? Saying she’d been interviewed for a profile piece in the
Sunday Times
, and that she’d watched a film in her home-cinema wouldn’t really do her any favours. Ella thought hard. It was a Tuesday – Stacey would have gone to work in the day, and probably would have ordered a Chinese takeaway for her and Jay in the evening. In comparison she’d eaten scallops for a starter, and then guinea fowl with apple gravy for a main. No, she wouldn’t phone Stacey. Ella still felt too awkward sharing her life with her, and Stacey still got jealous. God, it was hard.
Ella wandered from room to room, taking in the beauty of each. It was such a lovely house, and she knew she was very lucky. She just wished she had some friends that she could hang out with. The house screamed out for laughter and fun. Okay, so she had Danny, and that was great, but when he was busy with training or matches she had nobody at all. Stacey had been left behind in Ella’s old life, and Aaron was against Ella spending too much time with Chastity because he thought she was a bad influence on her. So who did that leave her with?
Nobody, Ella thought. Nobody at all.
Ella sighed, and picked up the phone to give Chastity a ring. Okay, so Aaron might not like it, but what Aaron didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him . . . and Ella was sure that underneath her bitchy exterior, Chastity could become a true friend. She was sure of it.
‘I don’t know what to do,’ Chastity sobbed, as she reached for another tissue. Her nose was red and her mascara was running down her face and dripping onto her pushed-up cleavage, but there was something in Chastity’s eyes that made Ella wonder if she was enjoying the drama of it all.
‘Freddie said he wouldn’t cheat on me again, ever, but he got caught getting a blow job in a nightclub after the Liverpool match, and I can’t trust him. I just can’t.’
Ella sat on the sofa next to her and felt uncomfortable. When she’d phoned her earlier she hadn’t expected Chastity to answer the phone in tears, and she had no idea how to help her. What could you say in a situation like this? Chastity would never leave Freddie – she loved her lifestyle too much – so Ella couldn’t wheel out the ‘all men are bastards’ line, but at the same time, Ella wasn’t sure what
would
comfort Chastity. Everyone in the industry knew Freddie played around. It was an open secret.
‘Last time he did it he told me it was a mistake, and that he was so drunk he could barely remember doing it. He told me he loved me, and that he’d never do anything to hurt me again, but he has! He’s gone and done it again.’
‘How did you find out?’ Ella asked softly. When Fin had been cheating on her, she’d had her suspicions: those nights when he came in at six in the morning saying he’d been drinking with the boys all night, the way he couldn’t remember his lies, and how he got over-the-top angry and said she was mental, crazy, paranoid and insecure if she commented on it. But she never had any hard evidence to prove he’d been doing the dirty, so she chose to believe him when he said his flirtations with other girls were innocent. She’d been wrong, though. And by the time she found out just how wrong she’d been about Fin, it had been too late. She’d got burnt, and badly.
‘His agent sat us down and told us the stupid little whore had gone to the
Sun
. We had to pay off the paper to get the photos from them.’
‘The photos?’
Chastity laughed bitterly. ‘They were in a corner of the club and the tart got a friend to take photos with her camera. She only did it for the money, of course, and the fame. I bet she thought this would make her a star . . . or get her a job on Babestation at the very least.’
‘God, Chastity, I don’t know what to say.’
Chastity wiped her eyes. Her face was blank and she looked a bit defeated and drawn.
‘There’s nothing you can say,’ Chastity said softly. ‘Freddie plays away, but I love him too much to leave him. I just have to put up with it.’
Ella bit her lip. ‘You don’t
have
to, you know. You could leave him, start again, meet someone who—’
‘Oh don’t be stupid,’ Chastity interrupted. ‘I can’t leave him. I signed a pre-nup; I’ll hardly get anything unless Freddie chooses to give me money, and I’ll be for ever known as the girl who was once married to Freddie Taylor. I don’t want to end up as a has-been.’
‘But you don’t want to end up sour and resentful, either,’ Ella said boldly. ‘Listen to me; I know what I’m talking about – I lived that life, I had a boyfriend who cheated on me, and when I confronted him about it he got, well, violent. It was horrible.’
Chastity rolled her eyes. ‘Listen, honey, you’re very sweet and all that, but this isn’t the same kind of thing. We’re talking about Freddie Taylor, you know. He’s an English football legend. So what if your little boyfriend cheated on you and bashed you about? Of course you’d leave him. Why would you stay with him? There are hundreds of boys out there who are all in the same league, and they’re all pretty interchangeable. But Freddie Taylor? He’s the top prize. And he knows that if he cheats he can get away with it.’
‘You’re better than that though,’ Ella said softly, and Chastity sank back into the sofa.
‘Am I? Am I really? If I was that good Freddie wouldn’t give into temptation. Why would he? He wouldn’t go abroad for matches and fuck foreign prostitutes afterwards. He wouldn’t smile when girls elbow me out of the way to give him their phone number. And he wouldn’t cheat on me. He’d
love
me. He’d
respect
me.’
‘So why do you stay with him?’ Ella wondered, and Chastity paused.
‘Because despite everything I love him,’ she replied solemnly as she hugged her knees to her chest. ‘And I know he doesn’t
mean
to cheat on me. There’s temptation everywhere he goes, and sometimes he’s weak and gives into it. He can’t help himself.’
Ella shook her head. ‘Can’t he?’ she asked, and Chastity’s face turned hard.
‘None of them can,’ she spat. ‘They’re all the same. Don’t tell me you think Danny’s faithful to you. Because he’s not, you know. He’s definitely not. Since he married you he’s had hundreds of girls throwing themselves at him, and he loves it. Freddie told me.’
Ella didn’t quite know what to say.
‘Danny doesn’t cheat on me,’ Ella said to Chastity as gently as she could.
Chastity laughed. ‘Oh yeah? You sure about that?’
Ella stared at the girl opposite her. Despite the thousands she spent on her appearance – the Botox, the designer clothes, and the daily trips to the gym – she was desperately unhappy and insecure. Ella felt sorry for her.
‘I’m one hundred per cent sure,’ Ella said smoothly. ‘Danny loves me, and he wouldn’t ever hurt me.’
Chastity shook her head. ‘You have a lot to learn about being married to a footballer,’ she remarked knowingly, and she reached for her glass of wine. ‘So much to learn.’
‘I’m home!’ Ella called out as she pushed open the front door, but Castle House was silent. Ella frowned and checked her phone again. Yes, Danny had definitely sent her a text saying he and Yves – Danny’s best friend and French centre forward for Kingston United – were coming home to hang out after going for dinner, and as Ella thought of Yves she smiled. Danny was handsome and athletic, but Yves was on a whole different level – he was drop-dead gorgeous. Currently starring in a hair-gel advert, and with a legion of teenage girls plastering their bedroom walls with posters of his naked torso, Yves looked more like a boy-band member than a footballer. He was making a lot of money off the pitch because of it.
Ella walked through the house, picked up a nearly-empty bottle of wine that the boys had left on the kitchen counter, and then saw the swimming pool lights were on through the window. She grinned – going for a swim with Danny and Yves would be the perfect pick-me-up from having to handle Chastity’s tears, and as she walked through the back door and ambled through the beautiful rose garden, she felt herself relax. Yet again, Ella thought how wonderful her life was. Aaron may be concerned that she’d get spoilt, and that she’d take it for granted, but Ella knew she never would. She was living the fairytale dream of millions of girls, and she knew it wasn’t something to take lightly. She was grateful for everything she had. And she’d never, ever, think about throwing it away.
Ella turned the corner, and glanced at her swimming pool, lit up in ever-changing colours of the rainbow. It was gorgeous. And there, right in the middle of the pool, were Danny and Yves, chatting amicably in low voices. Ella began to walk towards them, but the men were so focused on their conversation that they didn’t notice her coming, didn’t hear her approach.
Just as she was about to speak to them, Ella froze. Her mouth hung slightly open in preparation for whatever she was about to say, and her eyes widened.
In one smooth movement Danny had grabbed Yves and kissed him on the mouth – passionately, desperately and fervently. Their chests touched, and as Danny let out a low moan, Yves ran his hands through Danny’s reddish-brown hair before moving them down his back. Their bodies pressed closer together, and Danny clung to Yves in utter infatuation.
Ella stood still for a moment, and then silently crept away.
When Ella first met Danny in Thailand, she hated him on sight.
‘I’ve been watching you and you seem so incredibly fed up,’ he said to Ella as he sat down, uninvited, in the sand next to her. Ella tried not to scowl. Yes, this stranger was really hot, but she wasn’t in the mood to be hit on. She hadn’t come to Thailand to find a rebound man – a one-night stand, a boyfriend, or anything in between – and she just wanted to watch the sea in peace.
‘You’re on a beautiful beach in paradise,’ he continued, ‘and you have the moodiest face I’ve ever seen.’