Idol

by Carrie Duffy

She could hear the noises coming from the screen behind her, as Tom groaned in unison. Somewhere at the back of her mind, she hoped none of her flatmates could hear them through the wall. Sadie’s room was just next to hers, and the last thing she wanted to hear was Tom getting his rocks off.

  Christ, he really was making a hell of a racket, Carla thought distractedly. He wasn’t usually so vocal. She slowed down a little, but suddenly he shouted out and appeared to be trying to say something. Carla stopped and looked up, wondering if she was hurting him somehow.

  ‘Tom?’

  He could only gasp, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, as he pointed limply at the screen.

  Carla twisted round, wondering what debauched image she was about to be faced with. The sight made her cry out in shock. There were three people in the frame – first was a dark-haired man, whose face was turned away from the camera. The second was an Asian woman, wearing some kind of latex fetish wear. But there was no mistaking the third woman. She was sprawled naked on the bed, legs open and dark eyes vacant as she lazily made out with the other woman. The guy stood over them, pleasuring himself.

  ‘Oh God,’ cried Carla, as she instantly recognized her best friend.

  ‘Jesus!’ yelled Tom, as he came all over Carla’s freshly washed hair.

  12

  Jenna was packing, and the room was in chaos.

  Rock music blared from the stereo, and she sang along at top volume as she raided her walk-in wardrobe. Her clothing was strewn about the bedroom, with discarded garments draped over doors and lingerie hanging half in and half out of Louis Vuitton cases.

  Her head was full of daydreams of lazing around by the pool in a tiny wisp of nothing, or going on long, romantic barefoot beach walks with Nick, and she packed accordingly, her cases filling up with sexy little sundresses and bold print maxi-dresses. Then there were those bargain vest tops from Top Shop on Oxford Street, cropped cardigans with sequin embellishment and cashmere wraps for the balmy evenings. A whole case was filled with hats, from baseball caps affording blessed anonymity to the black wide-brimmed straw hat that made her look like a blonde Sophia Loren. She added them to the pile and paused for a moment, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ears as she decided what to do next.

  Shoes, she said firmly to herself, opening a door to a separate shoe closet that would have made Carrie Bradshaw weep with envy; Jimmy Choo stilettos, sparkly mules, slingbacks by Kurt Geiger and the inevitable, inimitable Manolos all sat on the shelves.

  With a sigh, Jenna reluctantly conceded that spike-heeled thigh-high boots were not going to be the most practical thing to wear by the pool, and turned her attention instead to jewelled flip-flops, gladiator sandals and stacked wedges.

  Humming away to herself, her head full of limited-edition diamond-encrusted heels, it took a few seconds for Jenna to realize that her phone was ringing. Turning down the stereo, she dashed across the room to grab it.

  Nick’s name was flashing on the caller display.

  ‘Nick, hi,’ Jenna purred, feeling her pulse begin to race. Then a thought struck her. ‘There isn’t a problem, is there?’ she asked nervously, praying that he wouldn’t say the trip had been cancelled.

  ‘No, no, everything’s good,’ he assured her in the low, Southern drawl that Jenna found so sexy. She could tell by the sound of his voice that he was smiling, and she relaxed at his reassurance. Curling up on her vast bed, among the oversized pillows and discarded scatter cushions, Jenna switched the phone to hands-free and wondered excitedly what he might be calling for.

  ‘How’s it going?’ He sounded buoyant, and as confident as ever.

  ‘Everything’s fine. I’m just packing now and I can’t decide what to take. I’ve got so much stuff and I don’t want to leave anything behind,’ Jenna replied, biting her lip anxiously as she surveyed the devastation of the room.

  ‘Oh man – so you’ll be the one waiting for hours for forty suitcases to come off the carousel while the rest of us have already gone,’ he teased.

  ‘Don’t even joke about it. I’m not sure the plane’s even going to be able to take off, the amount of things I’m bringing.’

  ‘I didn’t realize bikinis were so heavy.’

  ‘Neither did I,’ Jenna agreed, adding, ‘and mine are all so tiny you wouldn’t think they’d weigh anything at all.’

  She heard Nick’s intake of breath and smothered a giggle. Strike one to Jenna.

  ‘I guess naked suntanning’s the only solution,’ Nick said casually.

  ‘Maybe … but I never sunbathe alone,’ she told him. ‘I need someone to rub the cream into my back.’

  ‘I’ll remember that,’ Nick breathed, wondering how far he could push this. He wouldn’t mind a little phone sex with Jenna Jonsson. Maybe she’d even send him some photos if he asked nicely …

  ‘So, what were you calling about?’ Jenna asked, abruptly shattering Nick’s fantasy.

  ‘Huh? Oh yeah … I wondered what you’re doing about accommodation while we’re out there. Have you found somewhere to stay?’

  ‘Nick,’ Jenna giggled. ‘We’re flying out tomorrow!’

  ‘Yeah, I know. Sorry,’ he apologized. ‘I guess it was a stupid question. I just thought I’d check.’

  ‘It’s all arranged, thanks,’ Jenna explained sweetly. ‘Gerry’s booked me in at a hotel. I’ve got the name around here somewhere …’ She trailed off, looking around her for the email she’d printed out.

  ‘Cool,’ Nick interrupted, trying to sound enthusiastic. ‘I just thought if you hadn’t found anywhere, you could always stay at mine. I’ve got masses of space in my villa, and I thought it might be good for group bonding, y’know, if we all spent time together.’

  ‘Oh, are the other guys staying with you?’ Jenna faltered. Of course, she had been ridiculous to imagine it would be just her and Nick, she told herself, trying to fight her feelings of disappointment. Absentmindedly wrapping a strand of fine, blonde hair around a pale pink fingernail, she remembered her vow to make an effort to integrate herself more fully into Phoenix.

  Nick paused for a split second, wondering whether to tell her the truth or to lie. He decided to lie. ‘Yeah, prob’ly. I’m not sure about Zac and Amber – they might wanna stay in a hotel.’

  ‘Oh, is Amber coming then?’ Jenna cut in before she could stop herself. She had met the woman three times now, and her dislike of her grew on every occasion.

  ‘Actually, I’m not sure,’ replied Nick, wishing he’d thought his story through a little more carefully. ‘She might be working overseas. So, if she is, then I guess Zac’ll crash with me. He might as well, rather than staying on his own. And Ryan might stay, with all his kids,’ he rushed on, his mouth working faster than his brain. ‘’Cos Kelly’s coming out – although I’m not sure if you and Kelly … um … perhaps they’re hiring their own place, I’m not sure …’ he finished lamely.

  ‘Yeah,’ Jenna replied thoughtfully. She was feeling decidedly uncomfortable at the mention of Kelly. And why the hell was Nick acting so weird?

  ‘So d’you wanna stay?’ Nick’s eager voice cut into her thoughts. ‘Don might fly for a couple of days, he hasn’t decided. But everyone’s welcome …’

  He sounded distant as he floundered with his story, but Jenna was only half paying attention, quickly weighing up the options in her head. She was certain of one thing – wherever Nick Taylor was, that’s where she wanted to be. An opportunity like this was fate, and she didn’t intend to waste it. Quickly, Jenna scanned over her packing. Oh God, she would have to completely change everything now. All the dresses she had packed looked frumpy, the sporty shorts asexual. And she wanted to look hot 24/7.

  ‘Absolutely,’ she purred. ‘I’ll get someone to cancel my hotel reservation.’

  ‘Fantastic, see you tomorrow,’ enthused Nick, barely able to hide the triumph in his voice. He wanted to get off the phone before she changed her mind. He knew he should probably have told her the truth, but he couldn’t risk her saying n
o. Once he had her in the house it would be a walkover, though, he felt sure. No one could resist the famous Nick Taylor charm for long.

  ‘Sure. Have a great night,’ Jenna replied silkily, hanging up.

  Nick grinned as the phone went silent. Not long now, he told himself.

  The day was stormy. The half-closed blinds at the tiny window let in barely any light to Sadie’s room, and she lay on her bed in semi-darkness, curled up like a child. Dark clouds scudded past outside, billowing and ominous, but Sadie hardly noticed as fat drops of rain landed on the windowpane, hitting it with force like a dozen tiny fists. Just a few miles away the rain was battering down on the gleaming tower blocks in the City, the money men who inhabited them tucked safely inside their impenetrable fortresses where nothing could harm them. Somewhere, in one of those, sat Paul Austin, surveying the world below from his ivory tower. Sadie was numb; she didn’t even feel the hot tears that rolled down her cheeks and landed wetly on her pillow.

  Over a week had passed and she still couldn’t get the images out of her mind. She remembered Carla coming into her room, her face set with tension and guilt. ‘I don’t know how to tell you this hon …’

  Sadie had demanded to see the whole thing, even though Carla had told her not to. She’d felt nauseous as she watched it, but she’d sat through the entire footage. Jesus, had she really done all that stuff? She didn’t remember half of it. Afterwards she’d thrown up. She hadn’t even made it to the bathroom, just hurled in Carla’s wastepaper bin.

  She felt so stupid, that she’d allowed herself to be used like that. She’d been falling in love with the guy; she’d sworn she wouldn’t, but Paul had treated her so well, been so sweet to her. She knew he was married, but she’d managed to put that out of her mind while they were together, convinced herself it was just about the two of them. And all the time he was just playing her, using her to get what he wanted. He’d filmed her without her knowledge and put it on the net for everyone to see – she didn’t even know why. For his own sordid kicks, presumably. Jesus, it was so fucking humiliating.

  And it could potentially wreck her career, make her a laughing stock that nobody wanted to be associated with. Seeing herself behaving like that – besotted with Paul, doing anything he asked … The whole thing was a total nightmare.

  At first Sadie had been angry, stabbing furiously at her phone as she tried to call that bastard. But Paul didn’t pick up and, after an hour of trying, the feeling of helplessness set in. She knew he wasn’t going to answer. It was as though he had no further use for her. She’d been spat out and discarded like an old piece of gum.

  First thing Monday morning she rang him at his office, determined to get answers. His PA answered.

  ‘I’m afraid Mr Austin is in a meeting right now,’ Angela Lee told her, her voice calm and impersonal. Sadie felt a stab of pure, white-hot anger, wondering how many times Angela had lied to her in the past. Lied to her, and to his wife, and to however many other women he’d had before Sadie; she wasn’t naive enough to think she was the only one.

  When she called for the fifth time that day, Angela wasn’t quite so polite.

  ‘Haven’t you got the message yet?’ she hissed. ‘Mr Austin doesn’t want to speak to you. Now why don’t you put the phone down and stop calling here, before I report you for harassment.’

  The line went dead. Sadie stared at the phone in her hand, fury pulsing through her whole body. She jumped up from the bed, determined to go round to his office and have it out with him face to face, tell all his colleagues what a lowlife piece of shit he was.

  As she pulled on her jacket she realized it was futile. Even if she managed to get into the building, Paul would instantly have security eject her from the premises. Yeah, she could just imagine it – her kicking and screaming and yelling, while Paul stood there, cool and unruffled as ever, watching with a smile as some goon carted her off.

  She couldn’t go round to his house to confront him; she had no idea where he lived. She didn’t even know if the apartment was really his – for all she knew, he could have just rented it for the afternoon. Yeah, he’d done a pretty good job of keeping his life totally separate from her, Sadie realized, furious with herself for being so fucking dumb! And he’d just walk away, scot-free, to move on to the next girl. There’d be another, she felt sure.

  Sadie balled up her hands, slamming them hard into the pillow and wishing that it was Paul himself. She wanted him to suffer like she had, to be publicly shamed and humiliated, and to know that she was the one behind it. In short, she wanted revenge. She was going to destroy Paul Austin so that he had to live with the memories every day of his life, just like she would have to.

  Sadie fired up her laptop and typed in Paul’s name, looking for any information she could use. She was surprised she’d never done it before. A string of articles came up – a mention in The Times, the press release from his appointment at Willis & Bourne, details of a donation made to the Conservative Party. Then she clicked on Google Images. There was the same picture of him from the company website, looking handsome and powerful in a dark, crisp suit. Sadie hated to admit it but he looked gorgeous – she could see exactly why she’d fallen for him. But now she saw things she never had before – the steely determination in those cold blue eyes, the firm set of his jaw and the cruel mouth.

  The next photo showed him at a charity fundraiser, resplendent in black tie beside an imperious-looking blonde. She wore a glittering dress in palest blue that only reinforced the ice-queen image, and a dazzling diamond choker nestled at her throat. She was thin, haughty and stunningly beautiful. Mr and Mrs Paul Austin, read the caption.

  Of course his wife would look like that, Sadie thought, swallowing hard. She obviously had money, breeding, class – the kind of woman that Sadie would never be. She understood that now; rich and powerful men only saw girls like her as playthings, not serious prospects. They could have fun, fool around, but then they’d off and marry Henrietta or Annabel with the pearls and the Alice band.

  Unwittingly, Sadie thought of Jenna Jonsson. Life was working out just perfectly for her, she thought bitterly. She was gorgeous, rich and working with Phoenix. Why couldn’t it happen like that for her? When was Sadie Laine going to catch a break?

  She began to cry again, unable to help herself. She tried to keep it quiet, but soon broke down into big, gulping sobs, gasping for air as she cried as though her heart was broken. In a way, it was. She’d fallen for this guy big time, and now she felt utterly defeated.

  Carla knocked gently on her door. ‘Are you okay hon?’

  Sadie looked up, wiping her bloodshot eyes with the back of her hand as Carla pushed open the door. ‘Yes. No …’

  Carla came in, closing the door behind her. Her other housemates had accepted Sadie’s excuse that she had the flu and kept well away, but Carla knew the truth.

  ‘Do you want something to eat?’ she asked, her eyes full of concern as she sat down on the corner of the bed.

  Sadie shook her head. ‘I’m not hungry, thanks.’ She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had an appetite. All the pounds she’d gained after her last job had been cancelled had disappeared alarmingly quickly.

  ‘Sadie hon, you’ve got to eat something. You’re almost as thin as me.’ Carla tried to make a joke of it, hoping to snap her out of it. It didn’t work.

  They sat in silence for a few moments, a rare feeling of awkwardness between them. The rain hammered relentlessly on the window.

  Suddenly Sadie’s phone rang. For a split second she wondered if it was Paul; she couldn’t help it, and she hated herself for it. Glancing at the screen she didn’t recognize the number.

  ‘Aren’t you going to get that?’ asked Carla, as Sadie threw it back down on the bed beside her.

  ‘No,’ she replied listlessly.

  ‘It might be a job, or something exciting,’ Carla suggested, trying to lift her spirits. It was days since Sadie had shown any enthusiasm about anything.
r />   ‘Answer it if you want,’ Sadie shrugged.

  Raising an eyebrow, Carla reached across and picked it up. ‘Sadie Laine’s phone, her PA speaking,’ Carla giggled, hoping to get a reaction from Sadie. ‘Uh huh. Okay. Yeah, sure, I’ll get her.’ Carla put her hand over the mouthpiece and held the phone out to Sadie. ‘They want to speak to you directly.’

  ‘Who is it?’ Sadie was suspicious.

  ‘I don’t know. They sounded professional.’

  Sadie eyed the phone as though it might bite her. Warily, she took it from Carla. ‘Hello? Yes, that’s me. Yeah. Yeah. Oh, I see. That’s fine. Yeah, thanks. Okay, bye.’

  She hung up. Carla tried to read her face but Sadie was inscrutable. ‘Anything interesting?’ she couldn’t resist asking.

  ‘It was, actually,’ Sadie began slowly, as though still trying to process the news. ‘You remember that show I was supposed to do? 42nd Street – the one that got cancelled?’

  ‘Uh huh,’ Carla nodded her head.

  ‘Well, apparently we’re getting some compensation for it – breach of contract, loss of earnings and so on …’

  ‘Hey, that’s fantastic!’

  ‘Yeah.’ Sadie paused before adding lightly, ‘They’re giving us almost ten grand …’

  ‘Ten grand? Each?’ Carla blurted out, as Sadie nodded in confirmation. ‘Oh my God!’

  Carla’s mouth fell open but Sadie seemed strangely unaffected, as though she was still in shock.

  ‘Just think what you could spend it on!’ Carla shrieked. ‘You could get a little car, or go on a massive shopping spree. Or maybe you should be sensible and invest it or something …’ She trailed off, realizing what she’d just said. Involuntarily Paul flashed into Sadie’s mind. Mr Senior Investment Manager himself. We work with people who are rich and make them even richer. Sadie wondered if he would think ten grand was a fortune. It would barely keep him in hookers for the month, she thought bitterly.

  The memories hit her as if she’d been punched in the solar plexus, and she gasped out loud, unable to help herself.