As far as I know, I am the first one to wake up. It’s light out, but I have no idea what time it is. I scooch along the sofa carefully, trying not to wake anyone up. I am equally as careful as I tiptoe across the room to the bathroom because I wouldn’t want to stand on anyone. There are bodies everywhere, all alive hopefully.
I peer around the open bathroom door slowly – something I learned to do the hard way. The only person in there is Mark, who is asleep in the bath. I glance around the room for my clothes and spot them on the towel rack. I feel them and not only are they dry, but they are warm too. I change into them carefully, putting the hoodie back on over my stinky top, hoping it will mask the smell of champagne so I don’t smell like a drunk on the journey home. I wash my face and rinse my mouth under the tap after using my finger as a toothbrush with the help of the complimentary toothpaste. I am bursting for the toilet but I’m not sure I want to have a wee with Mark in the room, even if he is asleep. Lifting the toilet lid, still unsure if I should risk it or not, the decision is made for me because it’s full of random things. At a glance I can see a trainer, a toilet roll and everything is covered in sick. I don’t think I will ever need the toilet badly enough to reach in there and fish them out.
I bravely look in the mirror and instantly wish I hadn’t, but it does amuse me to see that I am still wearing my nurse’s cap.
Back in the main room I search for my handbag. The room is well and truly trashed, but the TV is still on the wall and none of the windows are broken – they would have been Dylan’s first port of call if he were here last night, he’s like a magpie when it comes to shiny, breakable things.
I start to count the empty bottles of champagne, but lose interest by the time I reach number eight. Let’s just say there are lots. Ben is sleeping upright in one of the big chairs with Carla sitting on his knee, who is also asleep with her mouth wide open and her camera still in her hand. I carefully take the camera from her, snap a photo of the two of them and then place it back in her hand – well she took plenty of photos of me last night.
Searching through the piles of empty bottles, cans, glasses and random people, I look for my handbag but can’t find it anywhere. I’m going to have to look in the bedrooms, so I creep quietly into the nearest one. Eddie is in there with a girl either side of him. He’s got an arm around each one and, despite being asleep, I could swear he had a smile on his face. As I look for my bag, I considerately glance around the room for his crutches but I don’t see them anywhere. I hesitate before I walk into the next bedroom because Luke must be in here and I’m not sure I want to see who he’s with. I feel jealous, but remind myself that I have a boyfriend. Luke can do what, or who he likes, I’d just rather turn a blind eye to it. I tell myself I am being stupid and take a deep breath before opening the door. I don’t look at the bed and I won’t unless I absolutely have to. I begin to search over the opposite side of the room and it takes all my strength not to look behind me, but despite the huge strain on my tired eyes I manage to resist. I spot my bag on top of a set of drawers and grab it a little over-enthusiastically, knocking a lot of other stuff onto the floor. With the curtains closed, it is still quite dark in here, but I search the floor for the items I knocked over and begin to pick them up. I’m not sure why I’m doing this, because the entire suite is a total tip. A little box hits the floor and its contents have spilled out at my feet. As I start putting things back inside, I realise what I am touching, even in this poor light. I’ve watched enough TV to realise this is Luke’s little drug box with all his various bits and pieces in – little bags of powders and pills and some other things I don’t recognise. Just holding it in my hands makes me feel sick and I quickly drop it.
‘Nicole?’ Is that you?’ Luke asks me. I suppose I’ll have to turn around now.
‘Good morning,’ I say, trying not to sound suspicious. ‘I was just looking for something. I found a bag.’ Why did I say that? ‘My bag, I mean. I found my bag. The bathroom is in a bit of a state, I’m going to go downstairs and use the one in the lobby, freshen up my make-up and stuff.’
‘I’ll come with you. Wait there.’
Luke slowly sits up and moans. ‘Shit, we really overdid it last night, didn’t we?’
‘Just a bit.’ I smile, although some of us overdid it more than others in my opinion.
Luke stands up. He is wearing nothing but his underpants but it doesn’t take him long to find his bag and put on some clean clothes.
‘Let’s go, but don’t get too close, my breath stinks.’ He laughs, but I’ll keep my distance just in case.
Once we are in the bright light of the main room, I can see how terrible he looks. I mean, I know I don’t look so hot this morning, but Luke looks really ill. His skin is white and his bloodshot eyes are only made more obvious by the dark circles below them.
‘You OK?’ I ask him quietly as we walk through the sea of people towards the door.
‘This hangover will go down in history,’ he laughs, before wincing and putting his hand to his head.
‘Maybe we should grab a coffee too, I think we need it.’
Chapter Forty
The Goodbye
Having made myself as presentable as possible (thank God I keep my make-up in my handbag), I head to meet Luke in the bar. He is already there, waiting for me with two cups of coffee in front of him. As I sit down next to him, he pushes one towards me and I thank him.
‘Last night. Oh man.’
‘I know just what you mean,’ I reply. ‘How much do you remember?’
‘Not nearly enough. How about you?’
‘I only know the things I don’t remember,’ I tell him, and he looks confused.
‘How do you mean?’
‘Well I don’t remember taking my skirt off.’
‘I’m sure I’d remember if you took your skirt off.’ He winks.
‘Honestly, I woke up without it.’
‘Well I don’t remember that, and for that I will never forgive myself.’
‘I don’t even know what time it is,’ I suddenly realise out loud.
‘Wow, it’s 11 a.m.,’ Luke informs me after checking his phone. ‘And I have a few missed calls from Mick.’
‘Oh, can you call him back? I really need my clothes! I smell like an alcoholic.’
‘I know, it’s turning me on,’ he jokes. ‘But if you insist, I will call him.’
Mick must have answered the phone after one ring, I think he’s been waiting for this call.
‘Right, he’s on the bus outside. He can bloody wait until we’ve finished these though.’
I notice that Luke has nearly finished his coffee, whereas I have hardly touched mine because it’s way too hot for me.
‘So what’s the plan for today? Are you heading home?’ Luke asks me.
‘Yeah, I’m going to head over to the train station as soon as possible, hopefully there will be a seat available.’
‘Well if you can’t get a train you can always come and stay at mine.’
‘Thank you, but if I’m not at work tomorrow I’ll be in serious trouble.’
‘And you’re the boss?’
‘I’m the boss.’
We both laugh.
‘Well the offer stands, if you ever need a place to stay in London, just let me know.’
‘Thank you,’ I tell him, squeezing his hand.
Luke has finished his drink, so I knock back the rest of mine a little faster than I would usually.
‘Ready to go?’ he asks.
I nod, but as we stand up I come over all dizzy and wobble on my feet slightly. Luke notices and takes me by the arm.
‘You OK, babe?’
‘Yeah, just hungover. It will be a long time before I drink again,’ I tell him.
‘Of course it will. Well, I’ll keep hold of you, just in case.’
We walk, arm-in-arm, to the bus where we find Mick sitting in the doorway smoking a cigarette.
‘Mick,’ Luke acknowledges him with a no
d.
‘Hello,’ Mick says sheepishly. ‘I’ve had a call from the Simon at the record label—’
‘I know,’ Luke interrupts him. ‘He called us last night, we celebrated without you.’
‘And don’t we know it,’ I add.
‘Brilliant,’ says Mick, standing up to let us on the bus. He is surprisingly quiet and I wonder how his date went, but I don’t think he’d appreciate me asking.
Once on the bus I grab my clean clothes and a bottle of water from the fridge and take them into the bathroom. I wash my face and brush my teeth properly using the bottled water, because the water from the bus taps never seems clean. I change my clothes and apply lots of make-up, but no amount of my Vera Wang perfume can truly cover the smell of champagne coming from my body. Still, it’s better than smelling like beer I suppose.
I always hate the last day of tour. I hate saying goodbye to everyone and hanging around, waiting to go our separate ways. Usually I try and leave as soon as possible, which is odd considering the reason I do it is because I wish I didn’t have to.
Luke is waiting for me in the living area.
‘I might head over to the train station now, I’ll have a better chance of getting a ticket.’
‘Yeah, sure. Well it’s been great seeing you, it wouldn’t have been right without you last night. I’m glad we’re OK.’
‘Me too. I’d hate to think I might lose you as friend.’
Luke stands up and I wrap my arms around him. He gives me a gentle kiss on the cheek.
‘I’ll miss you, though.’
‘I’ll miss you too,’ I tell him, honestly, ‘but I’ll see you soon. Congratulations again.’
‘Thanks. Maybe you could come with us.’
‘Around Europe? You don’t want me cramping your style,’ I tease.
‘It wouldn’t be the same without you, you’ve been with us since the beginning.’
‘I’ll think about it,’ I smile. It’s hard to tell if he’s being serious. ‘Say goodbye to the guys for me. And Carla too, it was great to meet her.’
‘Yeah, she’s a good girl.’
‘And what am I?’
‘Bad to the bone, Nurse Wilde,’ he tells me with a cheeky grin.
‘Which reminds me.’ I grab the nurse’s cap from my handbag. ‘Can you give this back to Eddie, please.’
‘Keep it,’ Luke insists. ‘It was always meant for you anyway.’
I smile and put it back in my bag – I have a spot on my dressing table where it can go, you know, along with the rest of my groupie treasure.
I give Luke a little wave as I head for the door. As I step off the bus, Mick asks me if I am going.
‘I am. I hope you had fun last night,’ I tell him and, for the first time ever, Mick actually blushes. ‘See you next time.’
Chapter Forty-One
The Nap
Not only did I manage to get a train home, but I got to sit on an actual seat too. Anyone who travels by train will know what a novelty an actual seat can be. I turned up at the station and joined the queue at the ticket office straight away. I was ecstatic when the woman working there told me that I could get a seat on the next train – I wasn’t quite as happy when I saw the price. Still, it’s better than hanging around.
I thought about giving Charles a ring to see if he fancied meeting up, that way I could see him and I wouldn’t have to kill time alone. It was probably for the best that I didn’t, though. It’s way too early in the relationship for Charles to see me looking how I looked this morning and I don’t think that the hungover look (complete with champagne-sticky skin) is one that a lot of men go wild for.
After a nice long bath, I am sitting on my sofa in my pyjamas, despite the fact that it is only 6 p.m. To be fair, I didn’t get much sleep last night because we partied until God knows what time and I didn’t get much the night before because Charles was here and, well, we didn’t do much sleeping.
Speaking of Charles, I’d better call him and let him know that I am home (and that I went to London in the first place). I pick up my phone to call him but it rings before I have the chance. It’s Emily.
‘London?’ she says as soon as I answer the phone.
‘I see you have spoken to Jake,’ I reply with a giggle.
‘I have, we went out for lunch today. Vicky too,’ she informs me. ‘Jake told me everything! You and Charles...I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!’
Is she mad at me? She sounds a little pissed off.
‘It all happened so fast, Em.’
‘I love that you bag yourself a boyfriend and then go off on tour with the band that you are head groupie for.’
‘I am not head groupie,’ I protest. ‘And just because I have a boyfriend, it doesn’t mean I’m going to stop touring. Why would I have to do that?’
‘Most guys wouldn’t be happy about it,’ Emily informs me, before backtracking a little. ‘You don’t have to stop, I was only joking.’
‘Let’s hope I never have to choose between the two, eh?’
‘Yeah, that boy would be out on his bottom.’
‘Speaking of arses, have you got rid of Vicky yet?’
‘No. You should have seen her face when Jake was telling us about you, Charles and London. She couldn’t hide her jealousy.’
‘Why does she hate me so much? I’m always nice to her, aren’t I?’
‘You are always perfectly nice to her face.’
We both laugh. It doesn’t matter how horrible or annoying Vicky is, I could never be nasty to her face and neither could Emily – which is probably why she is still living at her house.
‘I think she likes you really.’
‘Why would you think that?’ I ask, totally baffled.
‘She is always asking me questions about you. She is really interested in everything you’re doing.’
‘I’m not convinced. If you like someone, you’re nice to them. I don’t think girls do the whole treat ’em mean, keep ’em keen thing.’
‘You gave her a chance, that’s all you can do. Not many people can see her good side, but she is really quite sweet.’
Emily really cannot see the bad in anyone. Vicky could kill a kitten, and Emily would still think she was doing the right thing. Emily and I have so much in common, it’s the reason we get on so well, but she is just way too trusting. I know better, but I found out the hard way.
‘I’ll be at work in the morning – on time,’ I tell her optimistically.
‘What a novel idea,’ she teases.
‘I will,’ I insist. ‘I’m ready for bed now. I’m knackered.’
My body must be listening to me because I yawn right on cue.
I feel bad for not telling Emily about Charles first of all, but everything happened so quickly. I know I’ve been neglecting her a bit recently, but now things are calming down I can make it up to her.
I fluff up the big pillows behind my head and slouch down further. I am so comfortable here, I never want to move again. I’ll call Charles and tell him about my weekend and then I’ll get in bed, that way I can catch up on my sleep and be up nice and early tomorrow. What a great plan.
Chapter Forty-Two
The Evidence
Well, what a terrible plan that turned out to be.
I must have fallen asleep minutes after getting off the phone with Em. Not only did I neglect to call Charles, but I must have dropped my phone in my sleep because there’s a new little scratch on the side. Just brilliant.
Despite my very early night, I have managed to sleep in. Yes, I’m going to be late, but they expect it of me these days. That said, I don’t want to push my luck so I quickly grab whatever clothes are scattered across my bedroom floor and hop into them, pile on some make-up and untangle the plaits I lazily pulled my wet hair into last night.
I’m halfway to work and rummaging around in my bag for more lip-gloss when I realise that I have left my mobile at home. I hate being without my phone – it’s usually a permanent extensi
on of my hand and I genuinely feel like I am missing a limb without it. It’s too late to go back for it now, though.
Finally inside the office, everyone is hard at work – even Vicky – and it takes a few seconds before anyone notices I have walked in.
‘Good morning, darlings. I know, I’m late, I’m sorry. Vicky, I’ll get you some money, go to Starbucks and get whatever you guys want.’
‘Fine.’ She snatches the money from my hand and I take a deep breath to stop myself from saying something. A nice girl deep down, my arse.
As soon as her butt is out of the door, I walk into my office and plonk myself down at my desk. Emily follows me inside.
‘Charles has called for you.’
‘Yeah? I left my mobile at home. I forgot to call him last night, he’s probably wondering what’s happened to me.’
‘He’s called a few times actually, he sounds a bit pissed off.’
‘Really?’ That surprises me. I know we haven’t spoken for forty-eight hours, but I didn’t think he’d be the needy type. ‘I guess I’d better call him back now then. Cheers, doll.’
‘I’ll leave you to it. If Vicky gets back with your coffee, I’ll keep it out here until you’re done,’ Emily says, closing the door behind her – she really must think something is wrong. I search my desk for the little pink Post-it with Charles’s number on and punch it into the phone on my desk.
‘Charles Pace,’ he answers in his usual serious tone.
‘Hello, boyfriend, how are you?’
‘Fine, and you?’
‘I’m great, thanks. I’ve had one hell of a weekend—’
How Not to Be Starstruck Page 18