‘You think you’re entirely blameless in all of this?’ Emily says as she wipes her eyes. ‘You brought this on yourself, Nicole.’
I don’t know if they were crocodile tears before, but they are fast drying up now and her voice is getting stronger again.
‘How on earth did I bring this on myself?’ I ask.
‘I hardly see you these days. We’re supposed to be best friends, and you’re never around. Vicky was always around and she was just so easy to talk to.’
‘She was always around because she was living at your house, and she was easy to talk to because she was trying to get dirt on me. How could you be so stupid?’
‘I’m stupid?’ she replies, standing up and walking towards me. ‘If you didn’t get yourself in these situations, then there wouldn’t be a problem.’
‘So you thought that made it OK to tell Vicky one of my biggest secrets? What else have you told her, eh?’ This isn’t a serious question, but then I noticed the look on her face and I can read her like a book. ‘Are you fucking kidding me? What else have you told her?’
‘Back when the Plastic Rap story broke, I panicked and thought maybe she’d blabbed, but then you said you thought it was one of the girls there, and I realised I could trust her.’
So it was Vicky who leaked it.
‘Anything else?’
‘I might have mentioned some stuff about you and Luke being close – but that was before anything happened.’
‘Did you not think it was a bit suspicious when we read that article about me?’ I ask, unable to believe she could be so stupid.
‘There’s no smoke without fire, Nicole,’ she tells me, like she is so perfect and I’m so terrible.
‘So let me get the straight. Vicky has been living in your house and you’ve not only been doing everything possible to make her happy, but you’ve been telling her all my secrets?’
‘I didn’t plan on it, it just happened.’
‘You don’t even care, do you? You’ve probably ruined my career because no one will trust me now. You’ve probably ruined Dylan’s marriage – he’s got twins on the way, for God’s sake.’
Emily casually shrugs her shoulders. I can’t believe she’s done this to me.
‘I thought I could trust you with anything,’ I tell her quietly.
‘Nicole, you have been able to trust me with a million other things,’ Emily says in self-defence.
‘It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve been able to trust you,’ I tell her. ‘It matters how many times I haven’t.’
‘Whatever.’
‘I can’t believe you’ve done this to me,’ I tell her. I really can’t believe it, up until this moment I would have trusted Emily with my life.
‘Oh my God,’ she yells angrily. ‘You are so selfish!’
‘Look—’ Jake starts, but Emily cuts him off.
‘Stay out of this, Jake, we all know whose side you’ll be on.’
‘Oi, leave Jake out of this,’ I snap.
Before we have chance to continue scrapping and getting nowhere with it, ET barges into the office.
‘My phone is ringing off the hook,’ he shouts. ‘What the hell is going on?’
‘That will be because we unplugged ours,’ Jake tells him.
‘Vicky has set me up, made me look bad and sold the story to a tabloid,’ I squeak at him.
‘You made yourself look bad,’ Emily snaps.
‘Oh my God, shut up, you—’
‘Everybody quiet,’ ET bellows, stopping me mid-sentence. ‘The ByteBanter team are being bombarded with calls and emails about this, and all you’re doing is arguing like school children in here. You can all go home until we sort this mess out!’
‘Nice one, Nicole,’ Emily says sarcastically.
‘This is more your fault than it is mine,’ I insist.
‘Girls, please,’ ET shouts. He’s so used to dealing with men, he probably doesn’t know how to cope with two pissed-off females screeching at each other in front of him.
‘I’m out of here,’ Emily says, storming off and slamming the door behind her.
‘Good riddance,’ I call after her.
ET rubs his eyes and exhales deeply with exasperation before leaving the room. For a second Jake and I just stare at each other in disbelief, because neither of us expected a drama today. As I think about everything that has happened, and the consequences that will surely follow, I can feel myself getting more and more upset. It’s bad enough that mine and Dylan’s reputations will suffer, but the magazine is paying for it too. As my mind races and I wonder what the hell I’m going to do, I can’t help but burst into tears.
‘Come on, Nic,’ he says softly. ‘Let’s try and get you home.’
Chapter Forty-Seven
The Splash
I’ve always craved a celebrity lifestyle, but if this is what it’s like then I think I’ll pass – although it might be too late for that because this morning I was chased by the paparazzi! I’m on the front of a national newspaper!
Having made it home safely (our office has a back door – who knew?), the first thing I did was call Dylan to warn him but he didn’t pick up. I got a text a few minutes later saying Charles had called him to tell him and that he was trying to get out of the hotel unseen. That’s when I realised – Charles! I’m going to call him and explain, just as soon as I work out what to say. The important thing to remember is that I haven’t done anything wrong, but I’m a bit worried after our last misunderstanding. He knows me, he knows Dylan, he’ll be fine about it…so why am I worried?
I pour myself a large drink – alcohol is absolutely the right thing to do. Having a hangover is only making my situation worse, and vice versa, so if I can get back to being tipsy then things will be a lot easier. As I lean forwards to pick up my mobile, I catch a strong whiff of chemicals – it’s my post-foam-party hair. My head suddenly feels unbearably itchy. Perhaps I’ll have a bath before I call Charles, give myself a little time to calm down.
My hair is washed and I feel considerably less foamy, but I can’t bring myself to get out of the bath. My phone is on top of the drawers next to me, staring at me, reminding me that I should call Charles. No more putting it off, I’m going to do it right now and get it out of the way. I dry my hands and pick up my phone. His mobile is switched off, so I call his office and it rings for ages, in fact I’m just about to hang up when he answers.
‘Charles Pace.’
‘Charles, hey, it’s Nicole.’
He doesn’t say anything, forcing me to speak first.
‘How are you?’
‘I’m a bit busy actually, Nicole. One of my married clients has been caught having spent the night in a hotel with another woman.’
I giggle before realising that he isn’t joking.
‘I can’t believe people are thinking that! You know this is Vicky trying to ruin my life. The bitch even used my camera to take the picture.’
‘What is it your lot say? A picture is worth a thousand words.’
‘Something like that.’ I giggle nervously.
‘Nicole, this isn’t funny,’ he snaps.
‘Charles, I’m really sorry.’
‘You’re sorry? It’s going to take a bit more than sorry, you stupid little girl.’
‘You’re not the first person to have a client get a bit of bad press, you know,’ I reply, raising my voice slightly.
‘You think that’s what’s bothering me?’ he asks. ‘Disgusting. Nicole, you not only shagged someone else behind my back, but you shagged one of my clients. You’ve humiliated me!’
I try to speak but my voice fails me.
‘You don’t honestly believe that?’ I eventually manage to whisper. ‘You don’t think I’d do that? He’s my best friend and he’s married. What kind of girl do you think I am?’
‘I know exactly what kind of girl you are,’ he says coldly. ‘Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of work to do today.’
‘Charles, w
ait. Please, I don’t know what to do. I’m being chased by photographers, Vicky has set me up, I’ve fallen out with Emily. What do I do?’
‘I’m sorting things out for Dylan because he pays me. If you want a bit of damage control, then I suggest you do what all the other kiss-and-tell tarts do and hire someone.’
‘What did you say?’ I ask, regaining a bit of my confidence. My mind instantly goes back to that conversation I had with Mark on tour. He told me that no one has the right to say things like that about me and he’s right. Charles might not believe me, but I haven’t done anything wrong.
‘You heard me. You know after I saw those photos online, with you all over that boy,’ I can hear the disgust in his voice as he speaks, ‘I thought that maybe it was a one-off, especially when you promised me that I could trust you and that it wouldn’t happen again. Well, look where it’s got me. I should have stuck with my instincts and ended things between us the second I saw those photographs.’
I am not usually very good at controlling my temper, and today is no exception.
‘Oh, go fuck yourself!’ I shout, throwing my phone. As soon as it leaves my hand, I realise what I have done. My phone lands in the bath with a big splash. It’s only in the water a matter of seconds, but I fear the damage has been done. Jumping out the water, I grab my towel and dry the phone. I prod a button but it fails to light up this time. I panic because my entire life is in this phone and I can’t remember what you’re supposed to do with them if they get wet. I wrap it back up in the towel and run out of my bathroom. Maybe if I blow it with my hairdryer it will help to dry it out. I grab my dryer from my bedroom and hurriedly plug it in. I’m just about to switch it on when I hear my front door open. Suddenly very aware that I am naked, I grab the towel from my phone and wrap it around myself. No one can get in without a key so it must be Jake.
‘Jake, is that you?’ I shout.
‘Yeah, you OK?’ he calls back.
‘No,’ I cry. ‘Can you come in here please?’
‘Whoa! I’m not looking!’ he says as he walks through the door and realises I’m wearing nothing but a towel.
‘I dropped my phone in the bath, what do I do?’
‘Not that!’ he says spying my hairdryer. ‘That will only drive the water in further.’
He grabs my phone and does something I wouldn’t have known how to do.
‘Put this somewhere safe,’ he instructs, handing me my SIM card. ‘Do you have a vacuum cleaner?’
‘Do I have a vacuum cleaner?’ I echo with a laugh.
‘Do you have any rice?’
I stare at him blankly.
‘Right. Of course you don’t. I’m going to pop back to mine with this, don’t go anywhere,’ he calls as he runs towards the door. ‘It’s crawling with photographers out there.’
‘Thank you,’ I call after him.
Ruining my phone is just the shit-flavoured icing on the cake today. I feel so alone, and I have no one to talk to. I glance over at my telephone, my proper telephone that is. The only reason I have a landline is for the Internet, I hardly ever use this phone. I need to talk to someone, but all of my numbers are in my mobile. I know Emily’s number off by heart, of course, but I don’t want to speak to her. I can’t believe she’s done this to me. If she told me a secret and asked me not to tell anyone, I would never ever blab. Especially not to someone she hated. Has this been Vicky’s intention from the beginning? I feel sick at the thought of her scheming behind my back all along. At least I know where Scott Hale got his story from. Oh my God, that day when I read the story, it was Vicky who egged me on and told me to send Scott a nasty message. If I wasn’t feeling so devastated, I’d probably be impressed.
Part of me thinks that I should forgive Emily, but today I have lost everything. My boyfriend, my credibility, my mobile phone... I may as well add a back-stabbing best friend to the list. I pick up the phone as I consider whether to call her or not. There’s a card poking out from underneath the phone and, as soon as I see it, I realise what it is and what I should do.
I punch the number in and sigh with relief when it is answered straight away.
‘Hello, Mum,’ I say as cheerily as I can.
‘Hello, darling, what a nice surprise. How are you?’
‘Not so good actually.’ I burst into tears.
‘Nicole! What’s the matter?’ she asks me. I try to reply but once again my voice fails me. ‘You sounded so happy in your last email. Have you had a row with your new boyfriend?’
My mum waits patiently for me to stop crying and I explain to her what has happened in parent-friendly detail.
‘That’s horrible!’ she exclaims. ‘I’m sorry I’m not there to help you, darling. Do you want me to get your dad to book you a ticket over here? You could be here by this time tomorrow.’
‘I don’t want to run away, Mum. I have to fix this. I have to keep the magazine going and I have to make people see that I haven’t done anything wrong.’
‘You’re a brave girl but I don’t like to think of you upset and alone. I thought better of Emily.’
‘She just got caught up in it, I guess. I don’t know how I’ll be able to forgive her though.’
‘Give it time, love. Oh, my poor little girl!’ It sounds like my mum is crying, which makes me feel even worse.
‘Jake is looking after me, Mum. Don’t worry.’
‘You could do a lot worse than him, you know.’
‘I know, but we’re just friends,’ I remind her.
‘I know, but maybe he’s the kind of man you should be going after.’
‘No more southerners,’ I hear my dad call out. I’m not even sure he knows what is going on yet, but as far as he is concerned it always pays to remind me of that little snippet of advice.
‘Say hi to Dad for me,’ I say with a laugh, instantly cheered up just for hearing their voices. ‘I’m going to go, Jake will be back with my phone soon.’
‘Well take care of yourself, and remember we’re not that far away, you could be here in a matter of hours if you wanted to. Let us look after you,’ she teases. ‘You’re still my little girl.’
‘I know. Thanks, Mum.’
‘Why not go back home for a few days. It’s the perfect place to hide,’ she suggests, but the idea of going back to the village and staying with my uncle, auntie and perfect cousins is not one I’m overly keen on.
‘I’ll be fine, Mum. It’ll blow over in a couple of days.’
‘OK, love. Well, I’m off to Google you.’
‘You do that,’ I chuckle.
It’s at times like these that I really miss my mum. I can’t wait until my family move back home, but for now it’s just me against the world.
I peep out of my window and see that Jake is right, a gang of photographers are hanging around outside the door, the bloody vultures. It angers me that these people are harassing me just to get a photo to go with a story. My privacy feels majorly invaded, but isn’t this basically what I do for a living? Although in my case I can safely say that the story is absolutely not true. I’m going to have to find a way to make people see that.
First things first, I’d better put some clothes on before Jake gets back, he looked mortified before when he walked in and saw me in my towel. Did I even wash my conditioner off? I’ve nothing better to do so I may as well get back in the bath.
After warming up the water and adding a shot of something expensive and purple that is supposed to make me feel relaxed, I lie back and let the water cover my face for a moment. I feel safe under here – a million miles from the outside world.
I dread to think what people are saying about me as they’re picking up the morning paper and seeing those headlines and that misleading photo. That bloody photo that Vicky took on my own camera. Despite only looking at it for a few seconds, the image is burned into my mind and it’s all I can see whenever I close my eyes. I pull myself up out of the water suddenly and gasp for breath. I can’t hide for ever, can I?
The Problem
‘I’ve tried them, Jake. Their publicist doesn’t want to know.’ I snap my laptop closed in temper. ‘Don’t worry,’ Jake says, pushing a cup of tea into my hand. ‘We’ll find someone – anyone.’
‘Like who?’ I ask, flinging my arms in the air and spilling my tea down my onesie. It’s been a few days since my ordeal – maybe even a week or so, I’m not sure. When you don’t leave the house for a while, all the days just merge into one.
Unfortunately what happened is still big news. The paps are still hanging around outside my flat and although there aren’t as many now, the few that remain are playing the long game because they know I’ll have to leave at some point. Well let them wait, because I can sit here in my tea-soaked clothing forever if need be.
Dylan is supposed to be making some big statement soon, not that it will do any good. On the day the news broke, Dylan hadn’t even made it back to London before some more news broke – that Crystal had gone into labour.
Jake has been my knight in shining armour through all of this. He’s been looking after me, shopping for me and he’s even set up a little office in my flat so I can work from here. I never need to go outside ever again.
For the first few days I had him buy me every tabloid and trashy magazine on offer, keen to keep an eye on what was being printed. I’ve cut that out now though, because not only was it working out quite expensive, but the more I read, the more the story changed. It wasn’t true to start with, but one paper in particular is just making things up – the one Vicky appears to be working for now – the bastarding Daily Scoop.
Do you know what, though? This is great. It’s getting really cold out, so being able to work from home in my pyjamas is awesome. Well, that’s what I’m going to have to start believing anyway, because I’ve been sitting here for the past couple of days trying to get an interview with anyone at all and no one wants to know. I’ve tried every contact I have. My band friends don’t want to be associated with me right now, and all the publicists in the world are worried I might try and shag their clients and ruin their careers in the process.
How Not to Be Starstruck Page 21