Stars Like Us Read online

  When we finally swept into the waiting car, Amir was still huffing about the mob. ‘Of course the French have no idea how to do crowd control. There should be a velvet rope and a security guard, at the very least.’

  ‘We don’t mind signing a couple of autographs,’ said Richie amiably.

  Amir was already on a call to Beatnik, running through our itinerary. Out the window I saw narrow city streets, stone buildings, women in linen shorts and tanned men laughing and chatting, and tried to memorise it all so I could tell Phoenix about it later. They’d been so excited for me when I’d said the band was going to Paris, but if the scene at the airport was any indication, we wouldn’t be able to explore the city without an entourage.

  Amir hung up and turned from the front seat to face us. ‘So it’s Carter’s turn to be front-page news today.’

  Carter’s head snapped up. ‘What?’

  ‘Someone named Verity Coleman has spoken to Have You Heard,’ said Amir.

  Richie laughed, and I had to admit it did feel a bit karmic.

  ‘Same as Ellie?’ asked Sam.

  ‘This is a little more – uh – explicit,’ Amir clarified.

  Carter was anxiously getting it up on his phone. ‘Can I read it after you?’ I asked, trying to keep the laughter out of my voice.

  ‘No, you sodding cannot,’ he said. ‘And you won’t be laughing when you see what she said about you.’

  ‘I barely even know Verity. What could she say, apart from that I generously gave her my Oyster card when you failed to show her the courtesy?’

  ‘Let’s see ...’ He scrolled through the article. ‘How about ... “Lily Donadi was an incorrigible tease who wanted all the boys to fancy her and would stop at nothing until she had Carter eating out of the palm of her hand.”’

  ‘I didn’t know Verity knew words like “incorrigible”,’ said Richie.

  ‘I think that might be a bit of artistic sub-editing,’ said Amir.

  This might have been a joke to them, but I was already searching for the article myself, ignoring the roaming charges. I read it with the same sinking feeling I’d had with Ellie’s interview.

  Since Lady Stardust first burst onto the scene with their hit single ‘King Cutie’, rumours have swirled as to Lily Donadi’s mystery muse. Finally, we can reveal in an exclusive that the subject of the song is none other than the band’s guitarist, Carter Tanqueray!

  ‘I knew the minute I heard it that she’d written it about Carter,’ said Verity Coleman, 16, who was Carter’s first love and is a student at Henley-On-Thames Music Academy, the prestigious boarding school that Carter and Lily also attended. ‘It’s embarrassing, really – it was so obvious.’

  Verity reveals that Lily always had a crush on Carter, even resorting to underhand tactics to steal him from her.

  ‘She would pretend to be my friend to get inside knowledge on what Carter liked,’ Verity reveals, adding that their friendship stood for nothing when the bisexual Australian siren decided to go after Carter. ‘I used to tell her everything about me and Carter. I never expected she would use it against me.’

  ‘We should name the album Bisexual Australian Siren,’ interjected Sam, trying to make me laugh. ‘What do you say, Donadi?’

  I managed a watery smile, but inside I was churning.

  Verity says things came to a head at a wild party at June’s Henley-On-Thames Royal Regatta. ‘She knew Carter and I were together, but at the party she kissed him and then bragged about it.’

  That was such a misrepresentation of what had actually happened that I wanted to throw the phone out the window. I thought of the last time I saw her, the look on her face, like she needed to claw back her dignity. Maybe she wanted revenge on me for witnessing her humiliation that night – but it felt so much more personal than that.

  The only consolation for Verity was that Lily’s underhand tactics were unsuccessful. ‘Carter came back to me in the end,’ she said. ‘What we have is unique. We’re soulmates.’ Even though the pair is currently on a break, Verity is confident they will be reunited. ‘We need space right now but I know we’ll end up together. We’re endgame.’

  Well, she was right in one way. Carter and I might have repaired our friendship, but we were a long way off being a couple. Living in the same house as him really drove that point home.

  Verity claims his reputation as a Casanova is undeserved. ‘He’d talk like he was good in bed, but when it came to it I was actually very disappointed. He’s not very well-endowed, and he wasn’t interested in my pleasure at all. He just wanted to get off.’

  Wow. Verity was bold, especially if she thought she could say something like that and still expect to be Carter’s ‘endgame’. I let out a bitter laugh, but when Carter looked up I realised how deeply this had cut him.

  ‘Sorry,’ I muttered. ‘But how are you meant to defend yourself against that? Are you meant to whip it out on national TV to prove she’s wrong?’

  He started laughing too. It was slightly hysterical, still on edge, but it was laughter all the same.

  •

  But that wasn’t the last of it. In a live TV interview that morning, a rail-thin presenter asked point-blank whether Carter was the subject of ‘King Cutie’, although she stopped short of inviting him to get naked on air to refute Verity’s claims.

  ‘The song is about a sort of combination of people,’ I said as breezily as I could. ‘There are traits from lots of different guys I know.’

  ‘And is it true you and Carter used to date?’

  ‘No,’ I said, somehow keeping the tremor out of my voice. ‘That’s a really weird rumour. We’re just friends.’ Beside me, he was very still; I wondered if he was holding his breath. I cast around for a change of subject. I couldn’t see Amir or Saskia offstage this time: it was all on me. I thought about the way Addie had squeezed my hand in the back of the car, the way her hair had fallen around her face after we’d run from the photographer. ‘And anyway, I’m not exactly single right now.’

  ‘Aha!’ she said. ‘Yes, Addie Marmoset, isn’t it? Is it love?’ I was already regretting saying something outright. It was one thing to have paparazzi photos of us walking in a park; it was another to lie. ‘It’s very early,’ I said, in my most coy voice – Perennial Single Girl to the max. But then I thought about Ellie, and how brutally she’d sold me out, and how when she found out I was with Addie it would show her I didn’t care how many news outlets had bought her story, and the words were out of my mouth before I realised what I was saying. ‘We’re just having fun and I’m looking forward to seeing where it takes us.’

  ‘Look at you!’ she said. ‘You look very happy.’

  ‘I am,’ I said, and the audience smiled as one, but my insides twisted like a tornado. ‘I am just very happy.’

  ‘Because you were single for a long time?’ she suggested.

  Well, I wouldn’t have said it was perennial. I clamped back my thoughts and hoped my smile looked natural. ‘Yes, and I think that really makes you appreciate it, you know?’ I said. ‘When something real comes along after all that time.’

  That night, in my hotel room, I thought about how I’d leapt on board with Amir’s plan. I felt hot and ashamed, as if everyone might see through me immediately – but no-one had. The whole audience had cooed and leaned in to hear more. I wondered if Addie would mind, if this was violating our agreement to take things as they came.

  I picked up my phone and sent a text to Addie.

  I still couldn’t believe that the number she’d given me was her actual personal mobile. I considered telling her about Verity’s tell-all, but it was too complicated, so in the end I just added:

  I was still thinking about Verity’s interview when I got into the shower. Washing the long day away, I wondered if I could force the website to retract it. We falsely reported that Lily and Carter were more than friends. But I couldn’t confront Have You Heard without making it into a bigger deal than it already was. Anyway, Verity hadn’t e
xactly lied –she’d just told the truth as she saw it. And if she wanted to think of me as a siren, so be it.

  There was no way I was going to sleep after the day we’d had. Sam would already be in bed, but Carter and Richie would be heading out on the town. I’d turned them down so many times that they’d stopped inviting me, but tonight I needed to escape from my own head. I put on jeans and a baseball T-shirt and knocked on the door to Carter’s room.

  He answered almost immediately, fresh from his own shower and dressed in a towel, droplets of water at the hollow of his neck. I looked away from all his unblemished skin and barged into the room. Commentary was coming from the TV: Aston Villa were two goals up against Arsenal. That would put him in a good mood.

  ‘I think I’ll come out with you and Richie tonight,’ I announced. ‘It’s been a while.’

  ‘It hasn’t. We went to Yellow Brick Road the other day. Or were you distracted by someone shiny?’ He narrowed his eyes and ran a hand over his hair. ‘If this is about Verity –’

  ‘It’s not about Verity.’ I sat on the bed beside him, trying to ignore the smell of soap radiating off his bare skin. I didn’t want to go back to my soundproofed room and lie awake thinking about him kissing French girls. ‘I just think we should go out. As long as you promise not to abandon me as soon as you’ve pulled.’

  ‘Would I do that?’

  ‘You would definitely do that.’ But I couldn’t feel any anger about it. ‘So where are we going?’

  ‘Well, the first option is this club in the Marais Richie wants to check out. He said the last time he went there they had girls dancing in cages.’

  I gave this the silent treatment it deserved. ‘And the other place?’

  He grinned. ‘Whisky-A-Go-Go. It’s a karaoke bar in the Latin Quarter.’

  CHAPTER 29

  The petite, dark-haired girl onstage was mangling ‘I Love Rock And Roll’ but the onlookers didn’t care, shouting encouragement and swaying in time to the beat. It was meant to be a restaurant, but it was bathed in blue light, which lent it more of a jazz atmosphere. Most of the customers were dressed in work clothes even though it was well past midnight.

  Richie had insisted on heading solo to the club in the Marais, but to my surprise Carter had backed me up and we’d ended up here. He went to the bar and ordered four Sambucca shots without getting carded.

  ‘Two for you.’ He slid them across the bar. ‘And two for me.’

  I sniffed the shot, remembering my promise to Dad. It smelled like liquorice and petrol. ‘No thanks. I’ll have a lemonade.’

  ‘You’ve got to be properly buzzed to do this,’ he said. ‘Trust me.’

  I ordered my own drink, ignoring his eye-roll, then followed him to a free table and slid into the chair beside him so we could both see the stage. He flicked through the ageing Filofax on the table and said, ‘Now we choose a song to knock these folks sideways.’

  ‘How do you know so much about this?’

  ‘Dad used to take me. It’s a good way to get over stage fright.’

  It was hard to believe Carter ever got stage fright. The girl stepped down, there was lacklustre applause, and then a couple of young women in corporate gear took the stage. ‘So, we’ve had Joan Jett to start – a classic, if a little predictable,’ he narrated. ‘What’s next, what’s next?’

  I thought I was ready for anything, but when the opening bars of the next track began I grabbed his hand, my fingers digging into his skin.

  ‘Ow,’ he said and, as I always did when I touched Carter, I second-guessed myself – but he didn’t move his hand.

  ‘Did you plan this?’

  He let out half a laugh. ‘How could I have planned this, Jim?’

  ‘He’s always single but he’s never alone,’ sang the first girl in a decent voice, while her friend bobbed along, holding the mic like she had no idea what to do with it.

  He’s got a million girls saved into his phone

  If he’s ever lonely, he just calls up and sees

  Who’s ready to tango with King Cutie ...

  I couldn’t wrench my eyes from the stage. It was like stepping into a movie, seeing strangers – in Paris – singing the words I had written. Carter was loving every second of it. He spoke into my ear as the backing track swelled.

  ‘Watch and weep, Jim. These random French chicks will show you how it’s done.’

  He was built for chasing tail

  Almost undefinably male

  The second girl couldn’t sing as well as her friend, but was more confident in her delivery. As she sang the line, ‘One cocked eyebrow and an arm’s-length smirk’ I looked over at Carter and he cocked one eyebrow.

  ‘How do you do an arm’s-length smirk, Jim?’ he asked. ‘I’ve always wondered that.’

  At the party, the bar, or in the club

  He’s chasing the night but it’s never enough

  And on the dance floor, at Whisky-A-Go-Go

  – the crowd cheered at the update –

  He steps up close and says, ‘Baby, let’s go’ ...

  ‘Which song are we doing, then?’ Carter hooked his fingers through mine, like he had on the balcony at Regatta, and adrenalin pulsed through me at the memory.

  ‘You choose,’ I said. ‘I’m up for a challenge.’

  He stepped in close to me. ‘OK then, baby, let’s go,’ he said, and pulled me over to the stage.

  •

  We walked back to the hotel with our arms around each other. My head was racing as I thought about the unexpected turn the night had taken. I would never have picked Carter for a karaoke fan. I would never have thought he would hold me like this again, like Regatta had never happened.

  We’d started by belting out Meatloaf, of all things – Carter’s choice – before moving on to our old classics from the early nights in the boathouse: ‘Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High?’ by Arctic Monkeys, Fleetwood Mac’s ‘The Chain’, Queen’s ‘Under Pressure’. We weaved and dipped around each other, taking turns to pick the song and do the lead. And, best of all, no-one recognised me: it turned out my normal clothes were the perfect disguise.

  Carter bought me a bottle of water from a kiosk and lit a cigarette as I took a swig. It was a warm night, the sky clear and bright with streetlamps, but not so bright that we couldn’t see the stars.

  ‘I didn’t know Verity was your first love,’ I said.

  His smile was a little embarrassed. ‘Yeah. Well, I wouldn’t have phrased it like that. But we’ve been on and off for a while.’

  ‘That makes it worse.’ I pressed against his side, and he squeezed my waist.

  ‘How does that make it worse?’ His voice was quiet, like we were the only two people in the city.

  ‘Well, you’ve known her a long time. You’re supposed to be able to trust her.’

  ‘Hmm.’ He carefully blew his smoke over his shoulder, away from me. ‘She would probably say the same, though. It makes what I did to her worse. She should’ve been able to trust me.’

  That seemed fair enough. It was strange, almost thrilling to hear him admit he wasn’t proud of the way he’d behaved. Carter wasn’t exactly given to apologies.

  ‘Anyway, what about Addie …’ he said. ‘Are you just doing what Amir wants, or do you actually like her?’

  ‘It’s not anything,’ I said. I wanted to be friends with Addie, but couldn’t imagine feeling at home in the house with the statues on the lawn. I couldn’t imagine her ever letting her guard down enough to kiss me, even if I’d wanted her to.

  ‘Certainly sounds like it’s something when you’re asked about it in interviews,’ he commented.

  ‘That’s just for Amir,’ I said, but that wasn’t entirely true. I’d been thinking about it all night, and I realised a part of me had enjoyed the way the presenter and audience looked at me when I’d spoken about Addie. It was kind of flattering that all those people really believed I could pull someone like her. But I couldn’t tell Carter that. And I di
dn’t want to talk to him about Addie right now, anyway. Not when his hand was brushing my bare skin, and all I could think about was how right it felt to have his arm around me.

  Finally, we found ourselves at the hotel. We stood at the foot of the steps, and he turned to face me. For an exhilarating moment I thought he might kiss me, but he didn’t, just pressed his forehead against mine. It seemed dreamlike, as if the world’s rules had been turned on their heads.

  As the lift opened on our floor, he asked me to come to his room, and I said yes because I didn’t want the night to end.

  ‘I need your advice on something,’ he said as he slid the key into the lock.

  The curtains were open and the early orange light of dawn filled the horizon beyond the spires of the city. I sat on the bed while he got his guitar out of its case, trying not to feel disappointed that he really did want my advice on a song and that the invitation hadn’t been a ruse to get me into his room. I decided to focus all my attention on his song; at least then I wouldn’t be thinking about me and him and what might have been. We’re just friends, I reminded myself firmly as he perched opposite me, put a pick between his teeth while he tightened the tuning pegs, then started to play. It was a moody tune, almost eerie, with the strong influence of his favourite bands: Muse, Panic! At the Disco, Lana Del Rey. When he started to sing, his voice was shaky despite the hours we’d spent warming up at the karaoke bar.

  In the club, I know my type

  Grab your coat and I’ll take you into the night

  This one has that look I like

  If you come with me I’ll make it worth your while

  I smiled. I liked how blatant his lyrics were – how completely unapologetic about his intentions, his desires. Of course this was what Carter would write about. With a shiver, I tried to imagine my voice singing these words. He kept his eyes down, avoiding my gaze, as if what I thought actually mattered to him.