by Mel Sparke
FLIRTING - TAKE FOUR AND CUT!
“How do I look? Marks out of ten?”
Cat twisted and turned in front of the mirror in the posh Balinard Hotel loos, with Vikki standing beside her.
“It’s got to be a perfect ten,” said Vikki, standing back as far as she could, just to take in the spectacle of Cat’s outfit. Or maybe it was to get away from the glare…
Cat was out to shine. And there was no arguing that she was going to shimmy and shine in her gold halter-neck top, gold low-slung trousers, gold chain belt hanging loose around her hips and gold high sandals. Even the tips of her fingernails were gold and, when she moved, the metallic powder she’d dusted across her shoulders and cheekbones shimmered in the light.
Smiling with anticipation, Cat thought back with a delicious shiver to this afternoon, when filming had finally finished. It had been very dry and stuffy in the launderette, under all the spotlights - as Cat had noticed the day before. Today she’d been ready. It had nothing to do with luck that Cat had been on hand with a bottle of sparkling mineral water as Ben strode away from the set, complaining that his mouth felt like sandpaper.
Cat had been rewarded with one of Ben’s very best smiles as she’d presented him with a brimming plastic glassful, “you saved my life - again!” he’d said. “How come you’re always in the right place at the right time?”
“I’ve been learning so much all week,” Cat had told him, pleased at how natural and professional she sounded. “It’s the details that are important, right?”
“Right!” Ben had laughed. “You’re a natural, darling. Hope you’ve been invited to the wrap party tonight.”
“Oh yes - I’ll be there!” Cat had beamed. Ben had handed back the cup and their fingers had brushed.
“See you later, Cat,” he’d called back over his shoulder.
“It’s Pat,” she’d corrected, then slapped her hand across her mouth when she’d realised what she’d said. But it didn’t matter. Ben hadn’t seem to notice…
“He’s certainly going to notice you in that!” Vikki declared, bringing Cat back to the present.
“Who’ll notice me?” asked Cat, playing the innocent as she patted the tight blonde knots of hair she’d twisted up on either side of her head.
“Ben, of course!” laughed Vikki. “Who did you think I meant - Santa Claus?”
“I’m not dressing up for him - I’m dressing up for me!” trilled Cat, though she wasn’t fooling anyone.
“Well, whoever you’ve dressed for, are you ready to go and find this party?” asked Vikki.
“Of course!” Cat replied, with a force ten smile, bright enough to match her outfit.
The two girls left the loos, which they’d darted into as soon as the taxi had dropped them off at the Balinard Hotel. Their high shoes sinking into the plush carpeting, Cat and Vikki aimed for the snooty-looking bloke at the desk.
“Hi!” smiled Cat.
The desk clerk continued doodling something on a pad on the counter. Cat and Vikki exchanged glances. Obviously neither of them looked posh enough for the Balinard Hotel - well, at least not in this bloke’s view. Just as Cat was about to speak again, the desk clerk finally lifted his head.
“Hello,” he replied unsmilingly.
“Can you tell us which function suite the TV party is happening in?” Cat asked him.
“I’m sorry,” frowned the guy, “but both our function suites are hosting wedding receptions tonight.”
“Look, it’s OK!” said Cat, leaning on the counter and giving the unhelpful desk clerk a knowing look. “We have been invited! Just ask Daniel Farrow - he’s the production assistant, he said it would be all right!”
“Ah, you mean Mr Farrow and his party,” the man said haughtily. “Through there - the door on the left.”
“Thank you so much!” said Cat sarcastically.
“Hey, he’ll never win any prizes for helpfulness!” whispered Vikki as the two girls followed his directions.
“I felt like pushing that pen of his up his nose!” Cat giggled back. “Snobby gi—oh! This can’t be right! This door leads to the bar!”
“Maybe there’s a function suite at the back of it!” Vikki suggested, pushing open the door.
“Maybe,” shrugged Cat, “but I—” She stood in the doorway, a vision in twinkling gold. In front of her was a smoky bar - posher than the Railway Tavern or The Swan, but a bar nevertheless. The good news was the fact that the two girls recognised almost everyone there as members of the TV crew; the bad news was, they were all dressed in jeans and trainers, and downing pints.
“I thought this was supposed to be a party!” Cat hissed at Vikki as the room slowly quietened and everyone turned - as if their eyes were drawn by a golden magnet - towards the door.
“Rubbish party, isn’t it?” Cat muttered glumly, her chin resting on her hands, her elbows on her golden knees.
Vikki was sitting beside her on a brown leather sofa in a mainly deserted part of the low-lit room. It was much more crowded over by the bar, where loads of blokes - plus Rhona and Dawn - were all drinking and chattering and laughing.
“Well, I suppose it’s more of a booze-up than a party,” Vikki replied.
“Why’s it called a wrap ‘party’ then? Why don’t they call it a wrap ‘booze-up’?” Cat demanded.
“I dunno,” Vikki shrugged.
“I’m overdressed, aren’t I?” said Cat, pulling at her fancy gold trousers.
“Um… maybe just a little bit,” said Vikki, struggling to be supportive. “But who cares?”
“I do!” whined Cat. “And this was all for Ben’s benefit!”
Vikki decided it was tactful to say nothing.
“He’s not coming, is he?” said Cat mournfully. “I mean, we’ve been here for nearly two hours!”
“I guess not,” Vikki agreed.
“‘See you later,’ he said, Vik. ‘See you later.’ Why did he lie to me?”
“I don’t think he did, Cat,” Vikki told her. “I think it’s just something he says to everyone. Hell - he even said it to me.”
When they’d arrived, once everyone had got over the shock of Cat’s outfit, Daniel had cheerfully informed them that Ben Fitzpatrick might or might not have time to pop in for ten minutes or so, before he headed back down to London, where his mate was having a party.
“He’s mates with Kate Moss!” Cat moaned. “Of course he’s going to go to her party and not stay around for this!”
“But—”
“But nothing, Vik!” sighed Cat. “This has been a total waste of time!”
“Maybe it’s been a waste of time when it comes to you trying to snog Ben Fitzpatrick,” conceded Vikki. “But listen, Cat - stuff him. Don’t you think what 1 was just saying earlier is much more exciting?”
“Tell me again,” moped Cat, fixing her gaze on the chattering TV technicians once more. “I wasn’t really listening.”
“I knew it! Anyway, I was speaking to Jon, the director, and he told me he’s been very impressed with the work me and you have done this week!”
“Big wow…” said Cat flatly.
“But it is amazing, Cat!” continued Vikki. “I mean, we thought he was this snooty director who didn’t even know we existed, and now he’s gone to the bother of giving me some acting agency contacts for us both in London!”
The news didn’t get the response Vikki hoped for. Cat had sunk her head into her hands and was groaning gently. “How can I face my friends again after this?” she mumbled. “I told them all that tonight was the night for me and Ben!”
“But why are you even bothered about him, Cat? So what if he’s appeared in OK magazine? I don’t think much of someone who can’t even turn up for a quick drink with the people he’s been working with all week!”
“And he’s short!” Cat said bitterly, her face still buried in her hands.
“And he’s short,” Vikki agreed with her. “Cat, you deserve a much nicer - and taller - bloke than him.�
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Slowly, Cat raised her head and turned to face her friend again. “I do, don’t I?” she repeated, a worrying glint appearing in her eyes.
“Uh, yes, definitely!” nodded Vikki, sensing that Cat had just formulated a new plan.
“How do I look?” Cat asked, straightening herself up and wiping a finger under each eye. One of her tight knots of hair had slipped slightly to the side and started to unravel, but Vikki didn’t bother to point it out.
“You look great,” she said simply and, with that, Cat clattered up from her seat and twinkled into action.
“Cat! I was just coming over to speak to you!” exclaimed Daniel, tearing himself away from the cameraman he was chatting to.
For the first time, Cat noticed that his eyes were like a lion’s - golden-brown. They practically matched what she was wearing. It’s an omen… she decided to herself.
“I’m so glad to get you alone,” said Daniel, turning away from the nearest crew members for privacy.
“Are you?” asked Cat, arching her eyebrows. This was it. She couldn’t believe she’d got it so wrong. She’d wasted all her flirting efforts on someone who didn’t deserve it. But he wasn’t here, and Daniel most definitely was. And Daniel had been so cool to her all week - how could she have been so blind?
It’s not too late… she decided, giving Daniel her best killer Cat stare.
“Cat,” said Daniel softly, reaching for her hand.
Cat held her breath, letting her fingers curl round his.
“There’s something I need to ask you…”
She looked into his golden-brown eyes and couldn’t wait to hear what was coming next…
CHAPTER 20
HAPPY ENDINGS
The night was dark and star-spangled, though it was hard to see the stars twinkle at all, with the bright lights bobbing gently above yard where the night-lights flickered low.
Around the table sat Kerry and Ollie, Joe and Meg, Sonja, Andy and Matt. For the moment, there was no sign of Billy or Gabrielle - who’d been invited at Billy’s request - or of Anna. Billy and Gaby had disappeared inside the End’s kitchen, supposedly to make coffee for everyone, but they were certainly taking their time about it.
Matt, sitting at one end of the table, glanced up at the flat and wondered where Anna had got to. She’d disappeared upstairs to switch CDs a little while ago, but although the music had changed, she still hadn’t come back down yet.
“Smile!” Maya ordered her friends, standing a couple of steps up on the metal staircase and pointing her camera at them.
“Hey!” Ollie called out as soon as the flash had gone off. “Pity you’ve already entered a photo for that big competition. Maya. ‘Cause with our gorgeous faces in it, this shot would have got you first place, easy!”
“With your face in it, 01, it’s lucky the lens didn’t crack!” Sonja teased back at him.
Maya lowered the camera and walked back to her seat, smiling as her friends fooled around. She hadn’t the heart to tell them her news and bring the mood of the party down. If they knew that Alex had left a message on the Joshis’ answering machine earlier, telling her that she hadn’t been placed in the competition, they’d all have felt sorry for her. Maya - practical as always - hadn’t really expected to come anywhere in such a big competition, although it would have been great if she had. All that mattered to her now was her determination to make photography her career - whatever her parents had to say about it.
“Listen, I think I’ll go and see what’s happened to our lovely hostess,” Matt joked, getting to his feet.
“And tell her to hurry!” Sonja called after him. “She promised to bring down her tarot cards and do me a reading!”
“Hey, I can tell your future for you, if you want!” said Ollie with a cheeky grin.
“Oh, yeah?” Sonja replied, arching one eyebrow and gazing at him suspiciously.
Wafting his fork in the air, Ollie closed his eyes and tried to look mystical.
“Ah, yes… something will be missing from your life… that bit of cheesecake!” And in a microsecond, Ollie had stabbed the last piece of pudding Sonja had been toying with on her plate and stuffed it in his mouth.
“Ollie, you pig!” Sonja shrieked.
“Yep. That’s it - I’m officially stuffed!” said Ollie, through a mouthful of food and patting his belly. “I don’t know if I’ve got room for any more beer!”
“I’ll bet you’ll manage though!” giggled Kerry as female vocals drifted through the speakers, siphoned down from Anna’s flat.
“So,” said Sonja, giving Ollie a withering look and turning to Meg, “not long till Brighton. Not long till you and Joe are together!”
“Well, give or take an hour and a half’s drive on the motorway!” said Joe, more exactly.
“Yes, but think of it this way,” said Meg, snuggling closer to her boyfriend, “every weekend, I’ll be with you in your trendy flat in Shoreditch—”
Joe laughed at the thought of his paint-peeling new flat being described as trendy.
“—or you’ll be down in Brighton with me, talking moonlit walks along the beach!”
“Sounds good to me…” said Joe, moving closer to kiss her.
“Awww!” The others howled in unison around the table. Joe and Meg jumped apart at the sudden noise.
“C’mon, since this is supposed to be a posh dinner party,” said Ollie, pausing to burp as the others groaned, “let’s have a toast - to our soon-to-depart ace drummer and all-round top bloke!”
“To Joe!” said the others, raising their drinks.
“Speech!” called out Andy, laughing at the sight of Joe’s embarrassed face.
“No- I… no, it’s—” bumbled Joe, hating being the centre of attention. Meg giggled at his side.
“Come on, Joe!” said Matt, thumping him on the shoulder. “Say a few words, mate!”
Joe coughed, then his eyes settled on one of the others round the table. Inspiration struck…
“I want to make a toast…” he began, holding his glass in the air.
“Yeah! Go on then!” Ollie encouraged him.
“I want to make a toast to… Kerry!”
Kerry’s mouth dropped open.
“Me?!” she exclaimed, looking as embarrassed as Joe had done seconds before.
“Yep - a toast to Kerry for being so cool,” Joe continued, “that she’s letting Astrid take my place in the band!”
“Yeah - cheers for being OK about Stalker Girl coming on board!” said Andy cheerfully. “Or we’d have had to end up using a drum machine. And even I can see she’s a bit sexier than one of those!”
“Oh, don’t call her Stalker Girl!” winced Kerry. “I might change my mind! And she says she’s changed, so you’ve got to give her a break.”
“Joe’s right - you are so brilliant!” said Ollie proudly, grabbing her by the hand and pulling her close to him. “Do you know that?”
“I’m not brilliant - I’m just trying to be fair!” Kerry shrugged, still feeling awkward.
“And remember, lads, when we tell Astrid she’s got the gig, we have to spell it out to her that it’s only temporary, while Joe’s away at uni,” Ollie added, glancing over at the boys.
Joe could see his speech had embarrassed Kerry and decided to change the subject. “Anyone else got anything we can celebrate?” he asked, holding his glass aloft and looking round the table.
“Nope - but what about a drink to commiserate?” A vision in gold stood at the alleyway gate.
“Cat!” exclaimed Sonja. “What are you doing here?”
“She’s decided that we went to the wrong party,” Vikki boomed from behind her, ushering a dejected-looking Cat into the fairy-lit yard. “So, is there room for two more round that table?”
Matt paused in the open doorway and saw Anna sitting cross-legged on the floor of her living room, her tarot cards spread out in front of her on the coffee table.
“What are they telling you now?” he said softl
y, walking towards her.
“I don’t know exactly…” she sighed. “I don’t think I know what the future holds, but I’m not sure I can stay here, Matt.”
“Well, let’s see if I can read them,” he said, flopping down on to the floor beside her. “Now this one says to me that you should cheer up, ‘cause you’re going on holiday with your fantastic boyfriend soon!”
“Oh, Matt, I know you’re trying to be sweet, but I need more than just a holiday,” Anna sighed again. “I mean, I know I didn’t plan on waitressing forever, but at the moment I feel like a skivvy! The only thing that’s stopping me chucking it all in is that I don’t know what I would do next or where I would go…”
“C’mere…” ordered Matt, clambering to his feet again and pulling her with him. “These cards are rubbish. If you want to know the future, you’ve got to look at the stars…”
“But, Matt!” protested Anna as he dragged her towards the living room window.
“Ah, be quiet,” he told her. “You wanted to look at the stars at New Year, remember? Now it’s your turn to look and then listen to Mystic Matt.”
Anna giggled and looked up at the stars he was now pointing to.
“See that constellation over there? The one that looks like a coat hanger?”
“No,” Anna giggled again.
“Good. Anyway, that constellation tells me your future,” he proclaimed, giving her waist a squeeze.
“Oh, yes? And what does it say?” she smiled, playing along.
“It says you won’t be a waitress forever - you’re going to find your true vocation soon.”
“And what’s that going to be?”
“I don’t know, do I? That’s up to you. Anyway, shut up; I’m not finished.”
“Go on then, what else does the cosmic coat hanger have in store for me?”
“Travel,” Matt nodded earnestly.
“Yeah, yeah, the holiday to Ibiza,” Anna shrugged.
“No - it’s more complicated than that,” said Matt, his eyes still glued to the heavens.
“Oh, yes?” Anna replied.
“Yep. It’s saying that you and me are going to be busy on this holiday. We’re going to make contacts - lots of them. And we’re going to sort out work for ourselves for the whole of next season. We’re going to spend the whole summer together out there in the sunshine… maybe longer depending on how it goes.”