by Suzy K Quinn
‘You really think my mother would do something like that?’ I say. ‘Make something up?’
‘She’s done it before,’ says Diane. ‘Many, many times. She’s tried to ruin us. You never know what she’s capable of. God, I’m shaking.’ She holds her hands out, and I see trembling red fingernails. ‘I gave her a piece of my mind, Michael. I couldn’t help myself. She was saying all sorts of things. So much nonsense. I couldn’t stand it.’
‘Lorna always had an interesting relationship with the truth.’ Michael gives Diane a knowing look. ‘And no doubt she’ll be telling people we’re keeping Liberty prisoner here.’
‘Prisoner?’ Diane gives another harsh laugh. ‘Yes, I imagine that will be the next lie. We’ve heard that one before. About Cat’s daughter.’
My stomach creeps at the thought of my mother waiting at the gates. I know she’ll be crazy upset and I hate myself for doing this to her. But it’s the only way. Time to move forward, no turning back.
‘Can someone just tell her I’m not here?’ I say. ‘That she’s made a mistake?’
‘We can’t lie to her,’ says Diane. ‘We’re not those people. We don’t do things the way Lorna does. Look, the police will sort it out, okay? You two shouldn’t be disturbed. She should have the decency to let you catch up after all this time.’
I fiddle with my silver Gemini ring. ‘Will they arrest her? I don’t want her to be arrested.’
‘It’s okay, Liberty. The police know the history. They know your mother has … some mental issues. They’ll be fair and kind. God, I need a drink. Come on.’ Michael ruffles Skywalker’s head. ‘Tell this fellow he needn’t be afraid. Let’s go inside and I’ll show you the thing I’ve been saving for you all these years.’
I kneel to rub Skywalker’s face. ‘It’s okay, boy. Nothing to be frightened of. Come on. My dad’s just going to show me something. Okay?’ I stand and click for him. ‘Heel boy. Let’s go.’
Still Skywalker won’t move. I grab his collar and pull. ‘Come on, Sky. It’s okay. Really. It’s just a kitchen.’
Skywalker whines as I pull him onto the marble tiles, his claws clicking as he steadies himself.
‘I’m going back out to the gate,’ says Diane. ‘To see if I can persuade Lorna to leave before the police get here.’
My stomach crumples like a piece of paper. ‘Tell her I’m okay,’ I say. ‘Would you? That I’ve chosen to be here. And that I’ll be home soon.’
‘I’m not sure you should speak to Lorna again, Diane,’ says Michael, eyes swimming with concern. ‘You know how she twists things.’
‘I’m wound up, Michael,’ says Diane. ‘I want that woman off our property.’ She glances at me. ‘Sorry, love. Look, I know it’s your mother. But we’ve suffered a long time. A very long time. I just want her gone.’
I swallow. ‘As long as she leaves. That’s the main thing.’
‘She will, love. One way or another. The police are on their way. Go on in with Michael now. Let him show you this thing of his, whatever it is.’
‘This way.’ Michael waves me towards a pantry, opening the door. ‘In here. You go first – I’m a tubby little fellow these days; I’ll squeeze in after you.’
Skywalker barks, and I hesitate at the door.
Michael laughs. ‘Calm down, doggy. It’s just our larder. Listen. I’ll go first, okay? So your doggy doesn’t get separation anxiety.’ He walks inside the pantry. There’s a lot of convenience food on the shelves – crisps, sugary drinks, biscuits, sweets and packet cakes.
Skywalker sits by my heel, looking up at me with big brown eyes.
‘My word, there’s a lot of junk food in here,’ says Michael, picking his way to a freezer at the back. ‘A bit embarrassing, you seeing my bad eating habits. And I can’t blame Diane. She’s part of the my-body-is-my-temple crowd. Hardly eats a thing.’
‘My stepdad is into healthy living,’ I say. ‘He won’t shut up about protein.’
Michael laughs. ‘Is he a good fella though, your stepdad?’
‘Probably.’
Michael opens the huge, humming chest freezer at the back of the pantry. It’s an old, energy-inefficient 1980s model – the decade that hated the environment.
‘Right.’ Michael smiles as lemony light spills out of the freezer lid. ‘You’ve got to come inside and see this, Liberty. It’ll be worth it, I promise you.’
‘This is the thing you want to show me?’ I ask. ‘In the freezer?’
‘Yep.’ Michael gestures me forward. ‘Come on in.’ Skywalker growls.
‘Your dog is still nervous?’ Michael laughs. ‘He can’t be scared of a freezer.’
‘Come on, Sky.’ I step forward, my hand held tight on Skywalker’s collar. ‘Let’s go see.’
Lorna
‘LIBERTY!’ I’m screaming, really screaming, through the railings, boots wedged on twirling wrought-iron dragons. ‘LIBERTY!’
‘Get down from the bloody gate, Lorna.’ Diane appears through the trees again. ‘Before you hurt yourself. What do you think? You’ve got a few muscles, and now you can scale a ten-foot fence?’
I drop to the ground. ‘I’m stronger in every way these days, Diane,’ I say. ‘Now I don’t keep myself as thin as a twig for Michael.’
Most women fill out a little in middle age, but Diane hasn’t. She has skinny limbs like a teenager. Too thin. Brown hair. White skin. Michael definitely has a type: pale, frail and vulnerable. I often think, if the cancer hadn’t made me so thin and weak-looking, Michael wouldn’t have been interested.
‘Have you no shame?’ Diane puts hands on boy’s hips in tight jeans. ‘Do you know what today is? Our wedding anniversary.’
‘Send Liberty out and I’ll leave.’
‘As if I’d take your word for anything.’ Diane sounds tired. ‘We both know it’s meaningless. How can I trust a liar? Look, just leave, okay? Haven’t you hurt us enough already?’
‘Give me my daughter.’
‘She’s here to see her father,’ says Diane. ‘They’re catching up on the years you stole from them. Can’t you give him that, at least? Can’t you have the decency to let them get to know each other?’
‘Get to know each other? He’s brainwashing her, the way he’s brainwashing you. Haven’t you figured it out by now, Diane? Nothing he says is true. None of it is real.’
‘It’s you who tells lies.’ Diane’s lips pull tight. ‘I’m sorry Michael wasn’t kind to you. But Jesus, had you no common sense, woman? If you will sniff around after a married man, what do you expect?’
‘I was an idiot. I’m not saying I wasn’t. But Michael picked me up, not the other way around.’
‘What man’s head wouldn’t turn when a semi-naked teenager hangs around a stage door like a prostitute?’
‘I wasn’t semi-naked.’
‘Look, Michael did wrong,’ Diane continues. ‘Fame went to his head. He thought he could sleep with who he wanted on tour and no one would get attached. What happens on tour stays on tour. Musicians aren’t saints. Everyone knows that. But he isn’t the reason you had a mental breakdown. We hope you find peace and the help you need.’
‘Please. Please, Diane. I’m begging you. Give my daughter back. Don’t take her from me – you know what Michael’s doing. He’s turning her against me to get revenge for those press articles.’
‘She’s with her father right now,’ says Diane curtly. ‘And I dare say he’s telling her all the things you’ve left out of the story. The truth. Something you wouldn’t understand if it came up and bit you on the behind. Just go home. Okay? Liberty will come back to you when she’s good and ready. If she’s good and ready, after all the lies you’ve told her. She can stay here just as long as she needs.’
‘You need a reality pill, Diane,’ I snap. ‘We’re both his victims. You just don’t see it. He’s using you. You’re good for his image.’
‘I’m not a victim,’ Diane shouts. ‘Michael and I are still going strong after twenty years, in s
pite of girls like you throwing yourselves at him. What did you expect when you picked up a married rock star outside of a concert? Happily ever after?’
The truth is, that’s exactly what I expected – stupid little teenage idiot that I was.
‘I’m asking you to leave our property,’ says Diane. ‘I have an anniversary party to organize.’ She gives an odd smile, then turns back to the house.
‘Please, Diane—’
‘Excuse me, madam.’
I feel a tap on my shoulder.
Two police officers stand behind me. One has shiny brown hair pinned into a bun, large sun spots on her cheeks and carrying a good twelve pounds of flesh around her stomach. She looks overheated and holds her cap in short, fat fingers.
The other, a male, reminds me of a milk bottle: tall, pale and skinny with an impeccable uniform. And way too young to be doing this job.
‘What?’ I demand.
‘You’re on private property,’ says the policewoman.
‘I have a right to be here,’ I say. ‘My daughter is here. Behind those gates. She’s only sixteen.’
‘Mrs Ray told us the full story,’ says the policewoman. ‘You’re on private property, so if you could come with us, please, Miss Miller.’
‘How do you know my name?’
‘Mrs Ray filled us in.’
‘Get my daughter out of there and I’ll go with you.’
‘Miss Miller. If you don’t come with us now, you’ll be charged with trespass. We know … we know you’ve had problems.’
‘You’ve got your facts mixed up.’ I turn back to the gate, wedging my foot back into the railings. ‘Michael isn’t what you think he is. He’s a monster.’
‘Miss Miller!’ The policewoman shouts. ‘Come with us now, before you get yourself into any more trouble. This is Mr Ray’s private property and you have no right to make a nuisance of yourself.’
‘You don’t understand,’ I say, finding another foothold on the gate and pulling myself up. ‘If you did, you’d be telling Michael to open the gates and let my daughter out.’
‘We understand the situation.’ The female police officer looks up at me. ‘You’ve been … very keen on Mr Ray and his music for a long time. And you just want to get close to him.’
The skinny policeman adds: ‘The word is stalking.’
I look down. ‘This is a set-up. I don’t care if you arrest me for breaking and entering – I’m speaking to my daughter.’
‘We will arrest you right now for attempted breaking and entering,’ says the policeman.
‘So don’t do anything silly, okay?’ says the policewoman. ‘Listen. We know you’ve had some issues in the past.’
‘I’m not leaving here without my daughter.’
‘Let’s give Mr Ray the respect and space he needs. He’s entitled to enjoy his home without fans mobbing the gates.’
‘He’s allowed his privacy,’ chimes the male police officer, coming forward to grab my arm.
Fury rises to the surface. ‘Michael isn’t a good person. He’s fooling you. All of you. It’s what he does.’
‘Get away from the gate right now, Miss Miller,’ says the policeman, tugging at me. ‘Right now. I’m this close to arresting you.’
‘Arrest me?’ I cling tight to the bars. ‘What a bunch of bullshit. Do you know what happened behind these gates? Do you have any idea what Michael’s capable of?’
‘Come down now, Miss Miller. Or we’ll be forced to remove you.’
I try to climb but feel hands grab my ankles and wrists.
‘You’re his puppets,’ I yell as my fingers are peeled from the bars. When my boot accidentally hits the policeman in the face, he loses his temper.
‘Get down now!’
‘Keep it calm, PC Holmes,’ says the policewoman. ‘Let’s all stay nice and calm, shall we?’
Eventually they pry me off the gate and drag me flailing and shouting to the police car. I’m proud to say it takes them at least twenty minutes. I’m nothing like the skinny little girl who cried her eyes out over Prince Michael all those years ago.
Not anymore.
Once upon a time …
Welcome to your new life at Michael’s mansion, Lorna. Lady of the house. Queen of the castle.
I cried all afternoon in that turret bedroom, lying on the single mattress, looking up at an unpainted ceiling of raw pink plaster. I wanted to go home. I wanted my sister. I wanted to eat. But more than any of those things, I wanted Michael to come up here and tell me he loved me.
As dusk fell, I was too hungry to cry anymore. So I used the black paint and stiff brush to draw a silhouette of Johnny Rotten over the fireplace.
Michael was still downstairs with his wife, Diane. Did he love her? Were they still having sex?
As I put the finishing touches to Johnny Rotten’s eyebrows, the smell of steak and fries drifted up the stairs.
That was it. The absolute limit. I hadn’t eaten all day and I was starving. Michael hadn’t bothered to feed me. This had been a regular thing on tour – probably because Michael thought I should stay skinny – but tonight was different. He and his wife were eating dinner together, while I was stuck up here, hungry, looking at streaky painted walls.
Diane would be making big eyes at my man, playing the sympathy card. ‘Don’t leave me, Michael, we’re married. Give us another chance. Please.’
What if she succeeded?
I worked myself into a jealous fury, imagining my territory being invaded by this woman. Diane and Michael had known each other since childhood. She was beautiful and so skinny. Michael liked skinny. And they were still married. What if Michael was too weak to say no? What if they ended up getting back together?
Something snapped and I just lost it.
I stormed down the staircase, tripped and climbed over building materials, and marched through a hallway into a partially built kitchen extension.
Michael and Diane were in the kitchen, sitting on plastic chairs and eating a steak dinner from china plates in the midst of building chaos. There was a rose sticking out of a coffee cup and a bottle of champagne on a workman’s bench. Tealight candles glittered on top of an oven still in its wrapping.
Diane looked stunning, her pale skin gleaming, eyes glittering. Her blouse was a little bit open and I could see the top of a white lace bra.
‘What’s going on, Michael?’ I demanded.
Diane shrieked and leapt out of her seat, plate smashing on the concrete floor.
Michael stayed calm, putting his plate on the floor and standing. ‘How did you get in?’
‘You brought me in. Tell her the truth, Michael.’
‘You shouldn’t be here, love,’ said Michael. ‘This is my home. You need to leave.’ He took my arm, fingers digging, and pulled me out of the kitchen.
‘What are you doing?’ I said, trying and failing to pull my arm free. ‘You’re having dinner with her while I’m upstairs? She wants you back, don’t you realize that? Tell her the truth, Michael. It’s time she knew about us.’
Diane took deep breaths. ‘Who the hell is this, Michael? What is she doing in our house?’
‘It’s okay, Diane,’ said Michael. ‘She’s just a girl from the shows. A fan. Let me get her out of here.’
‘Get me out of here?’ I struggled against his grip. ‘It’s her who shouldn’t be here. She needs to get over you and move on. She’s had her time. It’s my time now.’
Diane’s eyes widened just the right amount to show she thought I was crazy. Then Michael manhandled me through the house and out the front door. I struggled, but Michael always had superhuman strength when he was angry, and I ended up stumbling behind him.
‘What do you think you’re playing at?’ Michael raged, pulling me away from the house and under dark, cold, hostile trees. ‘I told you to stay in your room. Now you’ve started all kinds of trouble. I feel like strangling you, I swear to God.’
I’d never seen Michael so angry, and for a brief moment
I imagined him throttling me and dumping my body out in the roaming woods. He certainly looked like he wanted to.
My stomach pulled into a tight ball. ‘You left me upstairs all day.’
‘You’re pathetic,’ said Michael. ‘Like a child.’
And he was right.
‘It looked romantic,’ I said, my voice high and frightened.
Michael still had tight hold of my arm and began dragging me further into the woods. I couldn’t see the house anymore and the dark anonymity, coupled with Michael’s mood, terrified me. I’d been scared of Michael before, but nothing like this. I’d never felt this blackness from him.
‘If you’d have stayed put there wouldn’t have been a problem,’ Michael raged. ‘You’re jealous. You saw what you wanted to see. I was making things right with Diane. Calming her down. You have to know how to handle her – she can really lose it.’
‘You told her I was a fan. She thinks I’m crazy.’
‘You’ve made a big mess, Lorna. A really big mess. What did you expect me to do? I have to clear it up somehow.’ Sweat glistened on his forehead under a full moon.
‘I want to go back to the house, Michael, please.’ I pulled at him. ‘Where are you taking me?’
Michael met my eyes, all intense and staring. ‘You know I care about you. Right? But you can’t go back to the house now. You’re gonna have to sleep out here tonight.’
‘Where?’
‘Here. See?’ He pointed at shadows through the trees. ‘You’re gonna sleep out here in the cottage. Diane’s gonna stay over and—’
‘No way.’ I pulled back. ‘She’s staying the night? Absolutely no way. If you do this, Michael …’
‘What? You’ll leave? Where will you go? Back to your sister who can’t stand you?’
‘She can stand me. I’ll … I’ll …’
‘Hitchhike your way back to America? Go then. Go on. I’m not stopping you. Good riddance.’
I burst into tears. ‘Do you mean that? You don’t love me anymore?’
‘Sometimes I wonder. Just … don’t get smart, Lorna. I’m trying to fix this. It’s all your fault. Help me out, for God’s sake. I don’t want Diane to flip out again.’