Chapter 25

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Lounging on the bed in one of the hotel’s fluffy robes Nadine watches Cheryl blow-drying her hair. She knows she should get up and dressed herself but she doesn’t want to break the spell just yet. The moment they step out this hotel room, the real world will encroach again and she wants to hold onto this for a little while longer.

Cheryl shuts off the hairdryer and holds out her arms slightly. “How do I look?”

“Gorgeous,” Nadine responds instantly, emphatically.

The brunette gives her a dubious glance. “Mm, apart from the suitcases under me eyes.”

Nadine has the good grace to look a teeny bit abashed because she knows Cheryl’s going to suffer for only having had about three hours sleep but she can’t really feel guilty about it, not when she can still smell Cheryl on her skin, taste her on her lips.

The phone rings then and Cheryl answers it. There’s a short exchange and the Geordie offers Nadine an apologetic look as she says, “thanks,” and puts the phone down.

“That’s the car arrived,” Cheryl says, picking up her handbag and crossing over to the bed. She leans down to press a quick kiss to Nadine’s lips, lingering only for a second or two. “I’ll call you at lunchtime, okay?”

Nadine nods, a heaviness pooling in her stomach as she watches Cheryl leave.

Is this what it’s going to be like for them, she thinks, snatched hours here and there? It’s enough, she tries to convince herself. It has to be.

***

She briefly considers hanging around Cheryl’s hotel room until the other woman returns but quickly disabuses herself of that notion. Not only would it appear ridiculously clingy, she’d probably have to contend with fending off housekeeping - not to mention stave off boredom for fourteen hours.

So she goes back to her flat, nipping out the back entrance of the hotel to avoid any potential photographers that may be lurking outside.

For the rest of the day she busies herself with dealing with paperwork, returning phone calls and cleaning the flat. By the time Cheryl rings her Nadine’s vacuumed, scrubbed and dusted every surface twice.

They make a bit of small talk about the X-Factor contestants before Nadine decides to broach the subject that she failed to the previous night. “I was thinkin’... maybe we should invite the girls round to mine on Sunday.”

“Do we have to?” Cheryl says with a laugh. “I was lookin’ forward to havin’ you all to myself.”

Nadine takes a breath and decides to take the plunge. “Cheryl, I want to tell them about us. I hated lyin’ to Sarah and Nic last night about who I’m seein’. It doesn’t feel right to hide it from them.”

There’s a lengthy pause, the Geordie taking an uncharacteristically long time to choose her words. Nadine’s about to prompt her for a response when Cheryl starts talking. Her voice is quiet, hesitant when she says, “Can’t we just keep it between us for now?”

“Why?” Nadine asks, feeling a lump forming in her throat.

“I just want to enjoy bein’ with you without the added pressure of everyone knowin’ our business.”

This puts Nadine on the offensive. “The girls aren’t everyone. Jesus, I’m not suggestin’ we put an advert in the papers!” She's pauses. "Are you ashamed or somethin'?"

"Oh, don't fuckin' start this. Of course not!" Cheryl sounds shocked, angered by this assertion.

"Then why shouldn't we tell them?" Nadine prods, knowing that she should probably let it go, that now isn't the time.

"Because I'm not ready!" Cheryl says, exasperated.

A stilted silence descends and Nadine wishes she’d bitten her tongue; she’d never meant to enter into an argument. All the times she'd rehearsed this conversation in her head, it never went like this.

She hears a male voice in the background, saying something to Cheryl, probably a production assistant.

“Look, can we talk about this later? They need me back on the floor.” There's a pleading note in Cheryl's voice now.

Nadine sighs in frustration. “Yeah, sure."

“Babe-“

“It’s fine. On you go. We’ll talk later.”

Nadine hangs up before she can say anything to make the situation any worse and sinks down onto the couch, dropping her head in her hands.

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