The Reluctant Celebrity

by Ellingham, Laurie

  ‘Sorry, I just...I’ve made a right mess of your sheets,’ she replied, scrunching her face in embarrassment.

  ‘I don’t know if you’ve noticed,’ he began, stepping towards her, ‘but Max is hardly the tidiest of housemates. Anyway, here you go, tea as promised, and I thought you could do with eating something,’ he said, placing a black round tray on her lap.

  Jules’ stomach churned at the sight of two thick slices of white toast, smothered in melted butter. A low grumble escaped from her body. Apart from the half-eaten corn flakes, she hadn’t thought about food all day. No wonder she fainted, Jules thought, berating her own stupidity and taking a huge bite of the fresh crispy bread.

  ‘I got Dan to call Mrs Beckwith. She’s left a key underneath the front doormat for you,’ he said, taking up his perch next to her again.

  ‘Thank you,’ Jules replied between mouthfuls.

  ‘But you’re welcome to stay here if you don’t feel up to walking back,’ he added, placing a hand on her leg just as Jules stuffed another oversized piece of toast into her mouth.

  ‘Oh’ she replied, between chews. The pressure of his hand on her leg made her hear bound.

  A long silence hung between them as Jules’ mouth battled with the clump of toast; her appetite disappearing as quickly as it had returned.

  ‘I…’ she began after several swallows. Washing the lump of food down with a sip of hot tea. ‘I…’ Jules said again, grappling for a response.

  Why shouldn’t she stay? Rich had been so sweet to her over the past couple of days and the warmth of his flat felt so inviting; not to mention his deep blue eyes. She definitely found him attractive. If only she could be sure that the butterflies in her stomach were for desire rather than despair.

  She really did want to say yes, but the memory of Phillip’s woeful story was still fresh in her mind. Everything with him had been a lie. She hadn’t wanted to be in the same room with him, let alone date him. She’d done it anyway though, just so she could tell herself she was over Guy.

  In fact, at that moment, lying on Rich’s bed, Jules couldn’t remember feeling much of anything for the handful of men she’d dated since Phillip.

  Jules shook her head, grateful for the dizzying headache washing away her thoughts. Now was not the time to be digging up her past. The Daily was doing quite enough of that already.

  Eventually, she looked up at Rich, meeting his gaze. ‘I’m not really with it tonight Rich. Rain cheque?’

  ‘Sure no problem. I’m here if you need me.’ Rich stood from the bed, his frame towering over her.

  ‘Thanks,’ she replied with relief.

  ‘How about I walk you back to Mrs Beckwith’s then?’

  ‘Thanks, but there’s no need, I know the way.’

  Rich let out a large sigh. ‘Jules, you’ve had a nasty fall. I’m not trying to be a knight in shining armour here. I just want to make sure you don’t faint again, okay?’

  ‘Okay’ she agreed with a small nod.

  Jules lifted her face towards the cloudless sky as they walked slowly up the lane. A thousand stars shone back, glimmering like a spray of glitter against black paper.

  ‘How are you finding it here?’ Rich asked, breaking the silence between them.

  Jules didn’t answer for a moment as she thought of the beautiful valley she’d looked across on her first day, the people she’d met – Terri, Dan, Jason, Rich, and all the others hell bent on befriending her. Their desire to interfere infuriated her, yet, how far would she have got without their help?

  ‘Good, I think.’

  ‘Will you stay?’

  ‘I don’t know yet,’ she answered honestly. Only as the words left her mouth did she realise she had actually been considering living in the house herself. She pushed the thought away. There was nothing here for her. She would move on eventually, she always did.

  They fell silent, neither pushing the subject further. Jules felt suddenly nervous as they approached the welcoming glow of Mrs Beckwith’s porch.

  Something in her relationship with Rich had shifted. The easy banter between them had been replaced with a stiff tension crackling between them in the crisp night air.

  As if reading her thoughts, Rich turned his body towards her, his wide chest covering her view as he stepped closer.

  Slipping one arm around her waist, she felt his strength sweep her towards him. Stooping his neck to the side, he scraped his stubble gently across her face as he moved his lips towards her, sending a fizz of déjà vu hurtling through her.

  A suffocating dizziness took hold as Rich’s mouth touched her. It had been a long time since she’d felt the sweeping wave of desire, but something didn’t feel right. She couldn’t breathe, she realised as panic took hold.

  Struggling to unravel herself from his arms, she pulled herself back, gasping the air from the night.

  ‘Sorry, I…’ Jules spluttered. She had no idea what happened. She liked Rich, didn’t she?

  ‘No I’m sorry,’ Rich cut in, pushing both hands through his hair. ‘You’ve had a big day; I don’t know what I was thinking.’

  ‘It’s okay. It’s not you, it’s me, the concussion,’ she blurted, cringing at her own weak excuse.

  They stared at each other for a moment, neither speaking.

  Rich took a breath. ‘Well Good night then.’

  ‘Good night, and thanks again Rich, for everything.’

  ‘Anytime.’ He nodded. Then with a short wave he turned back to the road and started walking.

  What had just happened? Jules wondered as she retrieved Mrs Beckwith’s spare key from under the mat and slipped into the silent house.

  She brushed the tips of her fingers against the spot Rich’s cheek had grazed against hers. For the smallest of moments she’d thought of Guy and the way his stubble used to rub her skin raw.

  The suddenness of the memory filtered through her body in a desperate longing before she could stop it. She fought back a sob threatening to burst out, blocking Guy from her thoughts with a tight grind of her teeth.

  It was just the fall, she told herself. Guy was not, and would never be a part of her life. It was Rich she should be thinking of, Jules told herself as she filled a bath with hot water of the bath.

  The next time she found herself in Rich’s arms she wouldn’t pull away.

  Sixteen

  THE DAILY

  SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 23RD

  CELEB SOT

  Gorgeous Guy performs live

  Record breaking singer, Guy Rawson will be performing songs from his debut album ‘Regret’ tonight for the sell-out crowd at the 02 Brixton Academy. Seeing the star? Text Celeb Spot to 88309 and be one of our Reader Reviewers.

  ‘You were amazing,’ Sonja screeched into his ringing ears as he stepped backstage.

  ‘Thanks,’ Guy replied, running a hand across his damp forehead.

  ‘Loved the pause in the middle of “A Goodbye Fool”. You had the crowd gagging for more.’

  ‘Really?’ Guy searched Sonja’s glistening face for the hidden meaning in her comment. The heat from the stage lights had melted her make-up into a slippery sheen, as if at any moment it would slide from her face and reveal a different person underneath.

  Like so many publicists and media types he’d met, her features seemed sharper than most. Guy often wondered if a special human sub-breed had been created for their unusual mix of celebrity pandering and killer media instinct.

  ‘Totally.’ Her narrow eyes caught his.

  She must have known that the pause had not been intentional. He had choked; plain and simple. The silence of the crowd had been deafening.

  Usually he clicked onto autopilot when he stepped onto the stage. Ignoring everything except the movement of his fingers across his guitar strings and the sound of his voice reaching into the crowded room.

  The set had been going well. He’d warmed up the audience with ‘Regret’ and kept them going through the song list stowed in his head. But something had
changed. The opening chords of the fifth song had reached deep inside him, digging out the emotions of the lyrics and catching in his throat like a noose tightening around his neck. The seconds had ticked slowly by as he’d found himself unable to breathe let alone sing.

  ‘Awesome set mate.’ A backstage technician clapped a hand on Guy’s shoulder, breaking his thoughts. ‘Come on, it’s this way guys.’

  ‘Cheers,’ Guy replied as the man led them through the dark narrow hallway and through to the dressing room.

  The space doubled as a storage area with stacks of chairs lining the back wall. Depending on the line-up, the windowless room could have up to twenty musicians crowded into it. The nerves and the adrenaline made for a lethal mix when it came to sharing the space, and Guy was relieved to find it empty.

  ‘Anything you need?’ the technician asked with a friendly smile.

  A hot shower, a cold beer and an early night, Guy thought. He had no idea when Sunday night gigs had become so popular, but he missed Debbie’s roast dinners and an evening sprawled in front of the telly.

  ‘Guy?’ Sonja prompted.

  ‘Sorry, no I’m good thanks mate.’

  ‘Well hang around as much as you like, we’ll be closing up in about an hour, but the band before you are over in the Far Side Bar if you fancy a pint.’

  ‘Maybe next time,’ Sonja answered, before Guy had a chance to accept. ‘We’ve got somewhere else to be tonight.’

  ‘No worries, see you around,’ the man replied, already moving back through the doorway.

  Sonja spun on the points of her vast heels, turning her sizable cleavage towards him. ‘So shall we head off then?’ she asked with an arch of her pencilled eyebrow.

  For once, Guy did not need an interpreter to find the meaning behind her words. After all, they’d been building up to this moment for most of the week.

  It had started with the flirtatious dinner the night he’d returned from seeing Juliet. However much Guy hated to admit it, he’d enjoyed the attention after his earlier knock back. Sonja had an amazing knack for making people feel good. It seemed to be the way she said things rather than what she said. Touching his hand when she spoke, or staring intently into his eyes when he talked.

  Before he knew it, she had proposed a celebratory drink after his set that night, with more than enough suggestion in her voice for Guy to catch her drift.

  It had seemed like a good idea at the time. He was supposed to be getting back in the game after all. But something didn’t feel right. He was living the dream - the rock and roll lifestyle – a packed-out performance followed by a shag with a gorgeous woman. So why did he wish he would just wake-up from it all?

  ‘Guy? Did you hear me?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ he nodded, pushing his face into a smile. ‘Let’s go.’

  Guy gave himself a mental slap. He needed to stop thinking so much. Sex with a good looking woman did not require the same level of contemplation most men put into a marriage proposal. It was no wonder he’d had a problem last time.

  ‘Fabulous,’ she purred, her hand touching his arm as they negotiated their way through the corridors and out the back door.

  Guy unlocked the front door of his large studio flat, pushing it open for Sonja to enter first.

  ‘Can I get you a drink?’

  ‘Twist my arm why don’t you,’ she replied, with a giggle that sounded to Guy like something from a David Attenborough documentary on jungle mating calls. It had taken the mercifully quick car journey home for him to realise just how annoying her laugh was.

  Don’t think, he reminded himself as he moved into the spacious kitchen area and yanked open the door of his huge silver fridge.

  His gaze fell straight to the slim green beer bottles lining the top shelf. Their smooth German taste had become a customary part of his post-performance wind-down. Somehow he couldn’t imagine Sonja’s bright red lips wrapping themselves around the bottle.

  Instead, Guy reached for the bottle of Bollinger that had lingered at the back of his fridge for longer than he could remember.

  ‘Oo lovely,’ Sonja cooed as Guy handed her the tulip glass and fell onto the opposite end of the sofa.

  In a single movement, she threw back her head of dark red hair and emptied the contents of the glass.

  ‘Thirsty?’ He forced a smirk.

  ‘You’d better believe it.’ Sonja shifted her body along the sofa towards him.

  Before he could find a reason to move, her face was looming next to his. He let his lips part and felt the smoothness of her tongue dart across his own as she leaned against him. This was the point he’d expect the first yearn of desire to move beneath his jeans. Instead Guy felt an emptiness so deep it filled him with a terrifying sadness.

  Out of nowhere, Debbie’s voice jumped into his conscious: ‘You’re not happy.’

  Whether it was the sentiment behind the voice or the fact that it came from his sister, Guy had no idea, but it unnerved him.

  He pulled his head away, fighting the urge to push Sonja back.

  ‘Is everything alright?’ she asked, reaching for the glass in his hand and taking a long sip.

  ‘Yeah of course. I’m just going to grab a quick shower. That stage was pretty hot.’

  ‘Want some company?’

  ‘Err,’ Guy wrestled for a response other than the rude retort balanced on the tip of his tongue.

  ‘I was kidding Guy, go on, I’ve got a few phone calls to make anyway,’ she replied, pulling her enormous purple bag from the floor.

  ‘Great, I won’t be a sec.’

  He forced his body to move at normal pace as he escaped from the sofa. He loved the large open space of his studio apartment in the nice end of Camden, only a few roads away from Regents Park. But all of a sudden he wished he had another room to hide in. He suddenly felt very conscious of his bed, lying empty just across the room from where Sonja sat.

  His flat would probably be described as minimalist. Something that seemed to be considered as a good thing on the rare occasions he invited colleagues and acquaintances in for drink. Only Debbie laughed at his inability to buy furniture or decorate. But to Guy the place had never felt like his.

  He had bought it outright after his second contract with GiGi had been signed. A trendy flat in a trendy location for a so-called trendy model. It had taken him until recently to realise that the studio had never felt like home. Home was the messy room he’d shared with Juliet at University, or Debbie’s house, full of life and love.

  Grabbing some fresh clothes from a long mirrored wardrobe, Guy stepped into the black and white tiled bathroom and locked the door.

  Within seconds, his naked body stepped underneath the powerful spray of hot water.

  Guy closed the lids of his eyes and dropped his head, relishing the pricks of heat bouncing onto the back of his neck.

  As he felt the adrenaline from his performance slip away and his muscles unwind, her image floated back into his head. The way her face had softened when she’d seen him, the widening of her already huge green eyes.

  Juliet’s face had been haunting him for days, keeping him from sleep at night and nudging him awake each morning.

  With his eyes still closed, Guy moved his body to face the water, twisting the dial to cold. With a sharp intake of breath he felt every inch of his body break into goose bumps as the icy water flooded over him.

  Still her face danced in front of him.

  Maybe, just maybe, Guy let himself wonder, as he turned off the water and reached for a towel, a part of her had been pleased to see him.

  It felt good to stop hiding from it. Maybe he had been right after all. He had hardly stuck around long enough to find out, he thought, reaching for the door handle.

  Suddenly, Guy remembered what awaited him from behind the single lock of the bathroom door and his spirits sank. He couldn’t do it. It had nothing to do with his body; his heart just wasn’t in it.

  He dressed quickly, pulling on a fresh pair of
jeans and an old grey t-shirt and stepped bare foot from the steamy bathroom; his lungs filling with a sharp intake of breath as his eyes took in the view in front of him.

  Sonja sat exactly as he’d left her, with one small difference. She was naked.

  Instinct pulled his eyes to the curves of her enhanced breasts, following the line of her petite body all the way to her feet, still encased in her giant heels.

  ‘I’ve got a surprise for you,’ she purred.

  ‘I can see that,’ Guy responded, rooted to the spot as he struggled to regain control of his wandering eyes.

  ‘Well two surprises then.’ A wide smile crossed her face. ‘I’ve just got off the phone with my contact at The Daily.’ Sonja paused to take another sip from his champagne glass.

  If he’d felt the slightest bit aroused by the naked woman perched on his sofa, it evaporated at the mention of the tabloid, which seemed to have dominated his life of late. Although he only had himself to blame for that.

  Sonja finished the fizzing liquid and continued, ‘they are doing a double page spread in tomorrow’s paper.’

  ‘Really? What’s the angle?’

  ‘Well it’s actually on that girl they’re fixated on, but they’re only doing it because of you’

  Shit; this could not be good, he thought.

  ‘They’ve have found some more people to go on the record then I assume?’ Guy asked.

  ‘Like you wouldn’t believe. Apparently she’s been a bit of a slapper since you broke up with her.’

  ‘Damn.’

  ‘I have to say Guy,’ Sonja continued as if he hadn’t spoken. ‘I was a bit sceptical about how the lost love angle would play, but you’ve handled it perfectly.’

  ‘It wasn’t like that,’ he mumbled. ‘This is very bad.’

  ‘Don’t worry babe, you’re still mentioned throughout the piece and I gave them a quote to juice it up a bit.’

  ‘I wish you hadn’t,’ Guy responded, thinking of the anger in Juliet’s face last time he’d seen her.

  ‘That’s my job Guy. But hey, I think that’s enough work for one night, don’t you?’ She stood from the sofa without the slightest hesitation and crossed the room towards him.