Vanity

by Lucy Lord

  The song came to an end, to rapturous applause. After a bit, Mikey hushed it.

  ‘Thanks, Camden. Thanks. We appreciate it. And now, one of our new ones. It’s called “Pawn”.’

  ‘Filthy bastards!’ shouted one of their male fans.

  ‘No, you’re the filthy bastard,’ Dan shouted back, walking to the front of the stage. ‘It’s “Pawn”, spelt P-A-W-N, like in the chess game, not the stuff that you have to resort to when you don’t get the real thing … When you’re not a rock star!’

  More cheers. God, he was so arrogant, so cocksure. But ‘pawn’ as in chess? Sam looked at Sienna, who was shaking her head at her in bemusement. Neither of them had heard them rehearse this one.

  Olly started the song on one drumbeat, and then Dan was off, taking them all to another planet with his exquisite solo guitar riff.

  Sam was utterly transfixed. Had he actually written a song about her? Surely it had to be. She was the only person he’d been playing chess with recently, she was sure of it. When Mikey started to sing, though, nothing was any clearer. The lyrics were deliberately obscure, although there were references to being a ‘pawn in your game’.

  Well, all she had to do was ask. They’d both waited long enough. Dan had wanted her twice before, and she was sure he still did. She couldn’t have imagined the chemistry between them the other day. As she gazed at him, so cool and talented up there on the stage, her heart was beating so fast she was surprised it hadn’t burst out of her chest.

  It was absolute mayhem backstage, and impossible to get close enough to the boys to speak to them properly; although Sienna, by virtue of her long legs, had managed to squeeze her way through the mob, and was now clinging onto Mikey like a limpet.

  Sam was grinning wildly at Dan and giving him double thumbs-up over the heads of the adoring fans. He grinned back, mouthing ‘Later’ at her and miming swigging from a can of lager. As she watched, a middle-aged man in a black polo-neck sweater appeared out of nowhere at Dan’s side. He was speaking urgently into his ear and handing him a business card.

  Oh, God! It had to be the man from Pistol Records. It had to be!

  And from the delighted smile slowly creeping across Dan’s handsome face, it was. Sam watched as he shouted over to the other members of the band. One by one they managed to extricate themselves from the mob and get their arses over to where Dan was still talking to the A&R man.

  And then Sam saw somebody else approaching the band. Somebody for whom the crowds were parting like the Red Sea, who stood at least a foot above the rest of the female fans. Sam recognized her immediately, of course – and it looked as though everybody else did, too.

  With her wild mop of tangled black curls, slanting green eyes and scarlet-painted, bee-stung lips, Carlota da Silva was the coolest new model in London. Fresh off the plane from Brazil, she’d featured on the cover of nearly every glossy magazine in the last few months, as well as in all the gossip pages, as star guest at all the celeb parties. And she was making a beeline for Dan.

  Her heart slowly sinking, Sam watched as Carlota da Silva, bold as brass, took Dan’s face in her hands and started to kiss him, pushing her phenomenal body, in its skin-tight black leather minidress, up against his. After a second or two of confused hesitation, Dan put his arms around her and started to kiss her back.

  When Sam woke up the following morning, she was feeling a little stupid. Maybe she had overreacted, running off the way she had, but she simply hadn’t been able to bear to watch Dan running his hands all over that bloody supermodel. She should have stayed on to celebrate the band’s success, and find out about the man from Pistol Records, though. She realized that now.

  Oh, well, she’d just have to go and apologize, pretend she’d suddenly been taken ill or something, and ask them all about it this morning.

  She pulled on her dressing gown and padded down the wooden stairs to the bathroom.

  The bathroom door opened and Carlota da Silva, her long black hair snaking around her smooth brown shoulders, the tiny towel wrapped around her body, barely covering her arse, walked out. She gave Sam a friendly smile and Sam tried her best to smile back.

  Dan’s bedroom door opened and Sam started babbling, ‘Morning, Dan. Congratulations on last night. You were all brilliant! Was that the man from Pistol Records? What’s …?’ Her words were falling over themselves, so hard was she trying to prove she wasn’t fazed by Carlota’s presence.

  ‘Thanks for staying to celebrate with us, Sam,’ said Dan coldly. ‘Much appreciated.’

  He turned his back on her and smiled at Carlota. ‘Morning, sexy. Come back here and help me celebrate some more.’

  He grabbed her by the hand and dragged her, giggling, into his bedroom. As the door slammed behind them, Sam found herself shivering violently, her bare feet freezing cold against the wooden floorboards.

  Listlessly, she turned on her heel and stumbled back upstairs to bed. She wished she could sleep forever.

  Chapter 21

  ‘And so I told him that he’s just like sooo lame not to want to see the rest of the world? I mean, he thought that Bangkok was in Europe?’

  The large group of students milling around the departure lounge at LAX was irritating the crap out of Ben.

  ‘When everybody knows it’s, like, Africa?’

  ‘Brooke,’ said one of the boys, ‘we are flying to Thailand, which was, last time I looked, in South East Asia.’

  ‘Oh, you think you’re so cool with your world geography, map-boy. Man you are such a geek.’

  Ben walked over to a newsstand and pretended to browse through a gaming magazine. He wasn’t globally famous – yet – but knew that he had to disguise himself to a certain extent in order to get to Natalia without being noticed. He hadn’t been able to grow his hair, let alone a beard, for the sake of continuity in the last takes, but he had about a week’s worth of stubble, and had asked Eloise to weave in some fake shoulder-length, mouse-brown dreadlocks.

  ‘Method acting for a really exciting new project,’ he had told her, smiling his charming smile. ‘I want to look like a classic LA stoner going off travelling to find myself.’

  Eloise had laughed, and relished all the time she had spent with him, touching his head way more than was necessary, massaging his scalp as she gazed at his beautiful face in the mirror.

  So now Ben sported fairly impressive (if disconcertingly ginger) stubble, unpleasantly matted dreads and a pair of aviator shades. He was wearing knee-length combat shorts, a faded black T-shirt, a leather thong around his neck, friendship bracelets all up one arm, and Birkenstocks. He carried an army-issue rucksack, and had even gone to the trouble of getting a fake tattoo inked around one of his biceps.

  Plugged into his iPod, from time to time he nodded his head about and swayed a bit, tapping his foot for good measure, even though there was no music actually playing. He thought he was doing the LA stoner thing pretty well.

  ‘Jeez, look at that dude over there,’ he now heard the moronic Brooke ‘Bangkok is in Africa’ say, assuming he couldn’t hear her because of the headphones. ‘Like, what a loser?’

  Excellent. The disguise was working.

  On board the plane, ensconced in his hideously uncomfortable economy-class seat, Ben thought back over the events of the past few days. The studio spies had told him that, yes, there was a woman who not only fitted Natalia’s description, but also called herself Natalia, on Bottle Beach. Yes! He had called Poppy to tell her the exciting news and thank her, and she had been thrilled that she’d been right. She had sounded fairly subdued though, and when Ben had asked her why, she’d told him about Damian’s melodramatic departure.

  ‘Let me know if there’s anything I can do once you find him, Pops,’ he’d said, feeling awful that he had been partly to blame. He had no doubts at all that she would find him, just as he had no doubts at all that he’d find Natalia. It struck him as quite funny that while Poppy was heading out west across the States in search of Damian, he was
heading even further west in search of Natalia (though it did seem strange to be flying west to get to the Far East).

  Ben was incredibly excited that he’d be seeing Natalia in less than twenty-four hours. He had been dreaming about her, night after night, her beautiful long back, her beautiful long legs, the way she looked at him when she said, ‘I love you, Mr Movie Star.’ But it was her shy smile, which revealed the little gap in her teeth, that stayed in his head always, even when he was awake.

  ‘Sir?’ The air stewardess, a pretty Malaysian girl, was looking at him curiously. ‘Would you like a drink?’

  Ben remembered to stay in character.

  ‘U-huh. Beer would be cool,’ he drawled, as though every single word were a massive effort. The girl was looking at him more intently now and Ben started to wonder if he might be overacting a tad.

  ‘Do I know you from somewhere?’ she asked.

  Shit. He decided to take a chance.

  ‘Maybe we met in a previous life, my little lotus flower.’ He put both his hands on both her arms, and stared up at her through his aviator shades.

  It did the trick.

  ‘Oh, no, I think probably not, sir. Here is your beer.’ And she moved onto the next passenger as swiftly as she could.

  Ben downed his tiny beer in one, then pushed his chair back, smiling to himself. He was too excited to sleep, so again he ran over his plan of action. From Bangkok he had to take an internal flight to the island of Koh Samui, and from Koh Samui a boat to Koh Phangan. From the main village, Haad Rin, he then needed to take yet another boat to Bottle Beach, where he planned to sweep Natalia off her feet. The idea of the romantic reunion was thrilling. She would be so overjoyed to see him that she would agree to everything he said – of course it made sense to go to the police about being blackmailed. Then they would swim naked and make love under the stars, and everything would be perfect again. He couldn’t wait.

  Juho was lying in a hammock under a coconut palm outside Natalia’s little hut, slightly worried that she hadn’t attended the morning yoga practice. In the months that they had shared on Bottle Beach, Juho and Natalia had become the firmest of friends, and Natalia had blossomed, knowing that Juho was celibate, that he didn’t want anything from her except friendship. They had swum together for hours every day, smoked joints, sitting on rocks, played cards late into the night, and talked. God, how they’d talked.

  Juho had told Natalia all about the events that had led to his near-breakdown, back in Helsinki, an unoriginal combination of working hard and playing hard (cocaine, vodka and hookers). Natalia, in return, had opened up, telling Juho things she had never told anybody, not even Ben: about the bleakness of her childhood, the grinding poverty; the alcoholic father who had left Natalia and her mother to fend for themselves when she was three years old; her beloved mamushka’s death from radiation poisoning after the Chernobyl disaster when Natalia was just 16; the absolute grief and despair that had led her into prostitution – pretty much the only career option open to a beautiful young girl in the lawlessness that engulfed the area at the time; her escape to Moscow, and the early nineties boom years, in which she had quickly thrived; her move to London, and brilliant investments during the property boom of the noughties; and finally, Georgiou’s blackmail that had led her here, to Bottle Beach. The only thing she hadn’t told him about was Ben.

  Juho had experienced a lot of life, and considered himself pretty unshockable. He was, however, enormously impressed by the bravery, determination and resilience that had led Natalia to where she was now, and took every new revelation with his customary Zen-like calm.

  So the friendship was solid. But there was a problem. Juho, after all his initial protestations of celibacy, had found himself falling deeply in love with Natalia. She was so sweet and unaffected now, talking about her past with disarming honesty and wry humour, giggling with absolute abandon as they jumped off rocks into the sea or down waterfalls into rippling pools in the island’s jungly interior. And no man could be immune to that sensational face and body.

  Juho wanted to be a decent man, and thought that he had finally banished his demons, just by living on this beautiful island, practising yoga under the trees, his only intoxicants a gentle smoke every night. He was ready to break his vow of celibacy now. And he hoped Natalia would be the woman with whom to break it.

  He looked out to sea, relishing, as he always did, the incredibly calming view, and saw Natalia emerging from the water, looking like a goddess in her cheap string bikini, her long blonde hair dripping down her back. He felt the stirrings of lust that had become all too common this last couple of weeks. He had to tell her.

  ‘Hi, sweetie,’ said Natalia as she approached her hut. ‘I am sorry I didn’t make yoga, but I am having a bad day.’ She bent over to kiss his cheek in the hammock, then sat down on the sand with her long arms wrapped around her long legs, gazing out at the ocean.

  ‘Do you want to tell me about it?’ asked Juho, and Natalia’s eyes filled with tears. She turned to face him, and soon the tears were falling silently down her face as she just looked at him, filling him with both sympathy and fear.

  He jumped out of the hammock. ‘Oh, my God, what is it, what has happened?’

  Natalia continued to stare at him mutely, shaking her head. Juho proffered his hand to her, and she got up, following him, barefoot through the white powdery sand, to the relative privacy of her hut.

  ‘Better in here, huh?’ Juho smiled at her, which opened the floodgates. Natalia started sobbing and sobbing, her whole body shaking with the violence of her grief, as she sat on the edge of the ethnic throw that covered her thin mattress, her hands clasping the bed’s frame until her knuckles were white. Tentatively, Juho sat down next to her and put his arms around her.

  Eventually, Natalia’s sobs subsided.

  ‘I thank you, Juho. You are a good man.’ She looked at him with gratitude and, spontaneously, kissed him on the cheek again.

  ‘Can I trust you with a secret?’ she said suddenly, as though just having come to a decision. ‘Of course I can.’ She answered her own question. ‘You are my best friend, the brother I never had …’

  Juho’s heart sank slightly at this, but he smiled reassuringly and squeezed her hand.

  ‘Of course you can tell me. You can tell me anything.’

  Natalia took a deep breath. ‘I am in love with a wonderful man, but he is famous actor, and Georgiou was threatening to expose him, for being with me. That was the final straw, the one that forced me to come here.’

  ‘I see.’ Juho looked at her sadly, wincing at the word ‘forced’.

  ‘I ran away from my Ben. I left him a note. I was weak, but I knew I could not do it if I saw his beautiful face. I guess I panicked …’ Juho squeezed her hand again. ‘Sometimes the pain of knowing I will never see him again is unbearable. That’s why I was so sad this morning. I am sorry. I feel a little better now, just to have told somebody.’

  ‘Would a drink make you feel better?’ asked Juho gently. ‘And then you can tell me all about him.’

  ‘A drink? Like a beer?’

  ‘No, a proper, strong drink. Vodka, or Sang Som.’ Juho was smiling now. If he was ready to break his vow of celibacy, he could surely allow himself to get smashed for one day, if it would cheer Natalia up. Actually, he was hoping it might make him feel better too. The news that she was in love with another man was a crushing blow.

  ‘Yes, thank you, sweetie.’ Natalia smiled at him. ‘I believe it would.’

  Seven hours later, they were sitting in their special place, a tiny stretch of sand shielded from the rest of the bay by a couple of large rocks, the far end of the beach from where the longboats were moored. The sun had just set, and an enormous moon was starting to rise over the water. It was a full moon, so people were leaving the beach in droves for the monthly party at Haad Rin.

  Natalia and Juho were well and truly sloshed. They’d bought a bottle of vodka, two bottles of Sang Som (the local Thai whi
skey), and several cans of Coke, lemonade and Fanta from Bottle Beach’s one liquor store. All day they’d been giggling as they created different disgusting cocktails from the various ingredients.

  ‘Thank you, Juho, for today,’ said Natalia, raising her plastic cup at him. ‘You were right, this is just what I needed!’

  ‘It is just what I needed, too.’ Juho raised his plastic cup back at her, almost toppling over from his lotus position in the sand as he did so.

  ‘But why?’ Natalia’s lovely brow was furrowed in concern, and she placed a gentle hand on his forearm. ‘What is the matter, sweetie? I didn’t realize there was something wrong.’

  ‘Oh, but maybe it isn’t wrong!’ Juho banged his plastic cup down on the sand. The hard liquor to which he had recently become unaccustomed was making him feel reckless. ‘Maybe I am crazy, but …’

  ‘But?’

  ‘I think I am in love with you.’

  Natalia let out a peal of throaty laughter at this, then stopped, horrified with herself.

  ‘Oh, my God. You mean it.’

  ‘Yes. I mean it.’ Juho looked intently into her eyes. ‘Natalia, the last few weeks have been so special for me …’

  ‘Oh, for me too, me too.’ Natalia smiled sadly in the moonlight. ‘But are you not celibate? I love you like a brother, I told you that. I am in love with my Ben, my movie star …’

  ‘Oh, I am sick and tired of hearing about this goddamn movie star!’ Juho rarely got angry, but when he did, it was explosive. ‘He seems to me to care more about his career than he cares about you. Why hasn’t he come to find you? Huh? You are living in a crazy dream-world, Natalia. I am here, and I love you. And I think you could love me too, if you could only forget about this man.’

  Natalia looked at him, so handsome and passionate in the moonlight. He was such a good man, her one true friend, and she did find his lean, yoga-honed body extremely attractive. For a moment she was sorely tempted. But then she remembered that day at the Île du Levant, being with Ben on the speedboat, and she shook her head sadly.