Crystal (26 page)

She came to in A&E, lying on a narrow hospital bed with Luke bending over her, white with anxiety. ‘Thank God, Chrissy, are you all right?’

‘I think so,’ Crystal answered, wincing in agony as she moved her arm. ‘What happened?’

‘You got hit by a car; you were really lucky,’ Luke’s voice trembled and he held his sister’s hand tightly. ‘You’ve got a broken collarbone, concussion and a nasty cut on your left arm.’

‘I was trying to get away; there was a photographer after me,’ Crystal replied, feeling groggy from the concussion.

‘Just promise me you’ll never do anything like that again,’ Luke said urgently. ‘Let them take their pictures, it doesn’t matter, you’re the only thing that matters.’

Not wanting to worry him any more Crystal whispered, ‘Okay’, and closed her eyes. Did she matter? It didn’t feel like that any more.

She was kept in hospital over night. They gave her a CT scan, which was all clear, and she was discharged the following evening. She arrived back at Luke’s flat to discover his living room full of flowers from friends sending their love and wishing her a speedy recovery. There was even an exquisite bouquet of white lilies from Dallas, which made Crystal feel that maybe he was softening towards her. As Crystal looked through the labels she couldn’t help hoping
one of them was from Jake. Luke told her that he’d phoned Jake’s office and left a message with Stella, who promised to let him know what had happened. Crystal spent the next couple of days resting in the flat and fantasising that Jake would call her and tell her that it had all been a terrible mistake, that he loved her. On day three when there was still no word from him, she realised that he was never going to call.
He must really hate me
, she thought miserably.

All she wanted to do was curl up on the sofa in her pyjamas, with her iPod – she’d taken to listening to the Red Hot Chili Peppers as she knew they’d been Jake’s favourites – and gazing at the stormy sea. But after four days of seeing his sister in that state, Luke insisted that she get dressed.

‘Come on, let’s go out and have a coffee. It’s not good for you to spend so much time inside. You need fresh air.’

‘Have you seen the state of me?’ Crystal objected. Her left arm was bandaged, and her right was in a sling to support her broken collarbone. She also had a black eye and a cut lip.

‘I promise you, you’ll feel so much better if you come out.’

‘But what if there are photographers?’ Crystal asked anxiously.

‘They’ll have me to deal with,’ Luke said, sounding as if he meant business.

Very reluctantly Crystal hauled herself up to get dressed – which took ten times longer than usual because of her arm.

For the first time in ages, the sun was shining. Outside the safety of the flat everything around Crystal seemed so much brighter, the sounds so much louder than usual. The sky appeared bluer, the white Georgian houses in the elegant squares were so white that it almost hurt to look at them; the cars roared by, making her feel dizzy and the harsh cries of the seagulls overhead jarred her nerves. They walked slowly by the sea and when they got too cold they stopped at one of the cafés for coffee to warm up. Crystal was just thinking that she’d done okay when a large group of students arrived at the café and it went from being deserted to packed. Crystal felt panicky all of a sudden, as if she couldn’t
breathe; she felt giddy and sick. Everywhere she looked people were talking loudly and laughing and it felt as if their voices were pressing into her head, their words hammering into her brain . . .

‘What’s the matter?’ Luke asked, sounding concerned.

‘I don’t know, I feel really odd,’ Crystal gasped.

‘Put your head between your legs, and breathe deeply,’ Luke ordered. She did as she was told and gradually the horrible feeling of anxiety and fear subsided. After a few minutes she raised her head and looked at her brother.

‘What’s wrong with me? I’m such a fucking wreck.’

‘I think you had a panic attack,’ he replied. ‘Come on, we’ll go home.’

‘Belle’s got a new boyfriend, a footballer,’ Tahlia said, as they drank coffee in the living room while Leticia drew yet another picture of a princess in a tower, waiting to be rescued by a prince. Crystal resisted the temptation to tell her not to bother – there were no princes, only men who broke your heart. It was two days after her panic attack and she was trying to put a brave face on things.

‘Look, there’s a piece about them in
heat.
’

She passed the magazine to Crystal who read that Belle had been seeing Lee Raven, who played for Spurs, and was apparently getting very cosy with him. The piece said how pleased everyone was that Belle had found happiness after her recent heartbreak, and how much she deserved it. Crystal skipped over the next paragraph which was all about her own part in the break-up of Belle and Max. God, would the press ever let her forget it? Then she considered the photograph of the boyishly good-looking footballer, who, judging from the fake tan, shaped eyebrows and carefully tousled and highlighted hair, was obviously as dedicated to personal grooming as Belle. ‘Um, not bad, not really my type, but maybe he looks better in the flesh.’

‘Crystal!’ Tahlia said, clearly horrified.

Crystal laughed. ‘Tahlia, it was a
joke
.’

‘Oh, yes, sorry,’ Tahlia muttered, embarrassed by her mistake.

‘If my best friend thinks I’m capable of fancying another of Belle’s boyfriends, no wonder the tabloids are giving me such a hard time!’ Crystal exclaimed. Not even her recent accident had brought her any sympathetic headlines. Instead the press seemed to revel in her fall from grace, commenting that she’d swapped her luxurious West London pad for a small rented flat in Brighton and her designer clothes for the high street. Just before the photographer had chased her, he’d got a picture of her and much had been made about how her clothes came from Topshop. It was all bollocks, of course; Crystal had always mixed designer clothes with the high street. There were quotes from ‘friends’ saying that they were worried about Crystal’s mental health, that her drinking was out of control, and that she was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

‘Anyway, I’m glad Belle’s met someone else. What’s he like?’ Crystal asked.

‘Sweet, not the sharpest tool in the box. Plus he’s got the money to keep her in the style she thinks she deserves.’

‘I always saw Belle as a WAG in waiting,’ Crystal answered, then changed the subject. Thoughts of Belle always ended up making her feel guilty.

It did her good, though, to spend time with Tahlia and Leticia. Crystal felt tense when the time came for them to say goodbye. She knew that the next time she’d see Tahlia was for the video shoot in the New Year, something she was dreading. Tahlia had tried to brush off her worries, telling her it would be fine, but Crystal had a strong suspicion that it wouldn’t.

‘
I’M SORRY, THERE
must be some mistake,’ Crystal said to the smiley stewardess at the check-in, whose cherry-red lipstick was the exact shade of her uniform. ‘I seem to be in economy and I should be in first.’

The stewardess tapped away again at her keyboard, looked up at Crystal and said sweetly, ‘I’m sorry, Ms Hope, you are definitely booked into economy.’

‘Can’t I upgrade?’ Crystal pushed, feeling frazzled, ‘I’ll pay extra.’

‘I’m sorry, Ms Hope, the flight is fully booked.’

Crystal was aware of the queue of people waiting impatiently behind her and realising that she would have to accept the situation, she grudgingly replied, ‘Well, is there at least a window seat?’

‘I’m sorry, they’ve all gone, you’re in the central aisle.’

What a perfect start this was proving to be to her twenty-third birthday. She’d had to get up at the crack of dawn and she hated getting up early. Then she’d had to leave before the post arrived so she hadn’t received any cards. Crystal couldn’t help wanting the day to be a little bit special, but so far the only way it was proving to be special was in being exceptionally crap. As Crystal grabbed her hand luggage and marched towards departures, she felt furious. It wasn’t the lack of luxury she objected to, it was being surrounded by people – people who were likely to recognise her. At least in first, people didn’t stare as much or if they did, it didn’t
feel like they were crowding her because there was more space. It was already happening as she wandered through the departure lounge. She could see people’s eyes lighting up with recognition, see them pointing her out to their friends. One of the celeb mags had recently published a picture of her with her new hairstyle and her cover had been blown. The others would be protected from all this sitting in the VIP lounge, Crystal thought bitterly, as someone took a picture of her with their camera phone. Suddenly, as she looked around for somewhere to sit, she felt the familiar sick feeling of a panic attack coming on. She couldn’t breathe, her vision seemed to blur, her heart was racing and she thought her legs would give way. She somehow stumbled to the ladies where she locked herself into a cubicle. Frantically she rifled through her luggage until she found a paper bag. She put it over her mouth and nose, trying to remember what her doctor had told her about taking deep breaths.

You’re all right
, she told herself over and over again,
Just breathe.
As she sat there, Crystal lost all track of time, but then she heard her flight being called. To her horror she realised that it was the last call. Still feeling wobbly and light-headed, she grabbed her bag and started running for the gate. Just as she felt her luck couldn’t get any worse she realised that her gate was the last one. She got on the plane with minutes to spare and then had the humiliation of walking the length of the aircraft with everyone staring at her and hating her because the pilot had warned them that they may have lost their slot for take-off because of the final passenger boarding so late.

‘About bloody time too,’ she heard someone say, and another adding, ‘Stupid bitch.’

Finally she reached her row and did a double-take because there, sitting in the seat next to hers, was Jake. Her stomach flipped. She hadn’t seen or heard from him in three months. He looked up at her briefly and muttered ‘Hello’ before turning his attention back to his book. Crystal was too
stunned to speak. She nodded then tried to shove her bag into the overhead locker. It was already crammed with other passengers’ luggage and she was struggling to squeeze hers in. Just as she thought she would cry with frustration, with the stewardess threatening to take her bag somewhere else, Jake got up to help her and managed to force the bag in and shut the locker.

‘Thanks,’ Crystal mumbled, too overcome with emotion to look at him. She sat down in her seat, fumbling with the seat belt.

‘What are you doing on this flight?’ she asked.

‘I’m shooting the video. Didn’t you know?’ Jake replied. ‘It was part of my contract otherwise—’ he shrugged and he didn’t need to finish the sentence. She knew this was something he didn’t really want to do.

‘Hiya, Crystal.’

She turned and saw Gavin sitting next to Jake. ‘Oh hi, Gavin. I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.’ Crystal managed a smile and Gavin beamed back at her. For a moment Crystal thought he must be taking the piss. She wasn’t used to people smiling at her, then she realised it was genuine. Jake had his head buried in his book again, so Crystal leant back and pretended to watch the safety display by the stewardess.

She experienced the feeling of panic she always had during take-off. Usually she’d have been with Tahlia and she would have held her hand tightly. Now all she could do was grip on to the handrest so tightly her knuckles went white. She closed her eyes and prayed – not that she believed in God, but in times of stress it was useful to pretend.

After a few minutes she heard Jake say, ‘It’s okay, we’re up. You can open your eyes now.’

For a moment Crystal thought she must have imagined his voice, but she opened her eyes and Jake was looking at her.

‘I didn’t know you were scared of flying.’

‘Just taking off and landing. I read somewhere that’s where most accidents happen.’

‘Well, if anything did go wrong, I don’t think we’d have that much time to worry about it.’ Jake said dryily.

‘Yeah, I’m sure you’re right,’ Crystal answered and was about to ask him how he was but he’d gone back to reading his book.

Crystal’s own book was in the overhead locker and she didn’t like to ask Jake to get it down for her so she picked up the in-flight magazine and flicked through it, trying not to think about Jake sitting next to her – Jake who looked so incredibly gorgeous. He was still tanned from his trip to Australia which made his blue eyes look even more intense. His hair had been bleached blond by the sun and was cut close to his head, making his handsome face look even more striking. There was hardly enough room for his long legs and Crystal shifted in her seat, so hers couldn’t brush against his. She had thought – foolishly, she now realised – that she was starting to get over him but sitting next to him she felt the full force of her feelings for him return. If anything she wanted him even more because she knew she couldn’t have him.

The in-flight movie was some schmaltzy rom-com about true love prevailing in the end. Yeah, right, thought Crystal bitterly. It was the last thing she felt like watching, but as she had nothing else to do she bought a set of headphones and pretended to be engrossed. She couldn’t believe that Jake was sitting next to her. What the hell was it going to be like working with him? The prospect of filming the video filled her with dread. She was only doing it because she was bound by contract and because maybe, just maybe, if she did it well, Dallas might forgive her. She wasn’t expecting to stay a part of Lost Angels but perhaps another group, a fresh start?

‘Oi, aren’t you that girl from that group?’ Crystal looked up as someone prodded her on the shoulder. She saw a large man in his forties, dressed in an England football shirt, leering down at her.

Fuck, this is all I need.