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Authors: Terry Tyler

Dream On (18 page)

BOOK: Dream On
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The feeling was good, whatever its cause.

 

***

"I've booked three double rooms at the Travelodge
on the North Circular Road," Ariel had said - and Dave's immediate thought was,
who's sharing with who?

Six of them. Four blokes and two girls. Yeah, of
course. He'd be sharing with Shane, and she'd be sharing with Melodie,
wouldn't she? Unless Shane could manage to persuade Melodie ... unlikely.

That meant three whole days away with Ariel, like a
holiday, but he wouldn't be able to sleep with her. How much of a joke was
that? A pretty lousy one.

"You're going to have to give me a bit of 'do not
disturb' time in the bedroom, mate," he said to Shane, when they were heading
down to the station on Sunday afternoon.

"No worries, dude, just say the word!" said Shane. "I bet
once I get into Melodie's frillies she'll be up for all sorts, anyway - she's
got 'foursome' written all over her."

"Get lost, you prat. You haven't got a hope in hell,
there."

"Yeah, but I bet you'd like to see her and Ariel together,
wouldn't you?"

Dave hardly dared let his thoughts stray into that
area, not in a public place. He concentrated on looking down the road as he
waited for the lights at the crossing to change.

"Fuck off. I'm serious about Ariel; don't talk about
the woman I love in the same breath as your smutty fantasies!" He laughed,
just the same.

"Yeah, yeah, you soft git! You need to lighten up a
bit, have some fun!"

Dave gave a snort. "What, you mean fun as in knocking off
some poor little chick over Christmas, who now thinks you're going to marry her
and won't leave you alone?"

Shane let out a groan, almost as if he was in
pain. He shook his head; his blond curls blew across his face, and he pushed
them away as an oncoming car veered forth. "Whoa, slow down, mate! Yeah, I
take your point. Jesus, how much do I wish I hadn't taken advantage of
that
little free offer?"

"She hasn't got the message yet?"

"No such luck. I mean, I don't even fancy her. She ain't
that
bad to look at or nothing, but she's a bit thick, you
know?"

Dave gave an even bigger snort. "What, you mean, not as
intelligent as Melodie?"

Shane laughed. "Man, I wouldn't care if Melodie
hadn't
got
a brain.  Come to think of it, I wouldn't care if she hadn't
got a head. A tenner says she's got her snatch done in one of those
Brazilians - will you ask Ariel to have a look?"

Dave laughed. "Animal."

"Too right! That's what that Kerry calls me. She
says my hair's like a lion's mane and calls me her Lion King. She actually
fucking texts me that, you know?
How's my Lion King today?
All the
time.  Wish the bloody woman would leave me alone."

Dave gave Shane a sideways glance; yes, as he'd
expected, he was looking rather pleased with himself, despite his complaints.

"I bet you're still going there, for all your talk, aren't
you?"

Shane hoisted his guitar case further onto his back
and grinned. "Needs must, mate, needs must."

They reached the station; the others were already
waiting outside. Ariel was smoking a last cigarette before getting on the
train.

She smiled when she saw him. She looked so beautiful, like
some sort of urban fairy, standing there in her denim jacket, combat pants,
black woolly gloves and huge thick scarf around her neck, her perfect rosebud
lips pale with cold, white blonde hair still shining in the fading winter
sunlight, and those huge, sapphire blue eyes looking straight at him.

Dave put his arms around her and kissed her; he
couldn't help it. He wanted to pull her inside his jacket and protect her from
the cold, protect her from everything.

She hugged him back for a moment, under his jacket,
and then she stood back and looked around at everyone, grinning.

"Okay, chaps, are we all ready? Fags smoked? Train leaves in ten minutes - follow me, I'm in charge!"

Of course. Ariel didn't need protecting, did she? She was perfectly capable of looking after herself. And everyone else.

 

***

Melodie was driving her nuts.

After checking in at the Travelodge yesterday
they'd dined at a cheap pizza and pasta restaurant, where Melodie proved to be
one of those people who didn't just diet, but wanted to remind everyone of this
fact at every possible moment, talking about the calories of every single dish
that came out, making sure everyone was aware of the benefits she would reap by
adding sparkling water to her one glass of wine. Once they'd got back to their
rooms - after the guys had agreed, under Boz's guidance, that tonight was
definitely not one for going out on the lash - Melodie had begun her night time
beauty routine, detailing every procedure to Ariel without first ascertaining
whether or not she was remotely interested.

"It's a pity your hair's not a bit longer, or you
could have had extensions," she said.

"I don't want extensions," Ariel said, strumming the
opening chords to 'Hotel California' on her guitar.

"Long hair's so much sexier," Melodie said, brushing
out her own black, waist length locks in front of the mirror, then picking up
her magnifying mirror to check for stray eyebrow hairs.

"I like it short," Ariel said, and tucked it behind
one ear. "I got fed up with it when I was out in Asia, it was so hot; I had it
screwed up in a knot all the time, anyway, so I thought I might as well just
get rid." She laughed, and looked off into the distance, remembering. "I
actually did, too; I just took a pair of scissors to it one day and hacked it
all off."

"Really? Bloody hell!" Melodie looked at her in
horror, as if she'd just told her that she'd performed her own appendectomy. Then she turned to look in the mirror. "I think I'd have braids if I went
travelling, like Katie Price did in the jungle. Mind you, you're pretty
enough to get away with short hair."

"Oh - thank you!"

"Yeah, I'd give anything to have eyes like yours,"
Melodie said, looking round and smiling. "Everyone always remarks on them,
don't they?"

"Oh, I guess so. I've got my mother to thank for
them, God rest her soul."

"Must've been hard growing up without a mum,"
Melodie replied, nodding. Then she stood up, looked at herself sideways in the
mirror, and pulled her stomach muscles in. "It's a pity you haven't got any
tits, or you'd really knock 'em all dead, you know?"

Ariel grinned to herself. "Yeah. Shame, that. Right, have you got your song sorted for tomorrow? You're still going to
do 'Beautiful', right?"

"Yes, I thought it would show off my caring side;
the words to it are really deep, aren't they?" said Melodie, and then she
turned away from the mirror, took off her t-shirt and unhooked her bra. Ariel
did a double take; Melodie's tits were
astounding,
almost like separate
entities, as if they weren't part of her body but had just been fixed on. Which, in a way, they had.

She slipped on a white vest, then took off her knickers and
replaced them with white shorts; of course, she'd had a Brazilian wax, too.
Ouch.
Then she climbed into bed.

"Okay, so we have to be at the studio for nine,
which means I need to be up at six," she said, and checked the alarm on her
phone before putting on a sleep mask. "Got to get my eight hours! Night
night, darling - I hope you don't snore!"

Unfortunately, Melodie
did
snore. As loudly
as Dave did, which amused Ariel at first, less so as night crept into early
morning. Finally dropping off to sleep at around one a.m., Ariel thought about
Dave, and wished she was sharing a room with him. No; on second thoughts, she
needed her sleep, too.

 

"I thought it would be like on The X Factor, with barriers
and people being interviewed, and cameras, and everything," said Melodie, as
they queued outside the back entrance of the studio.

"Melodie, this is a minor satellite TV station with
a hired studio," Ariel said.  

"Well, I hope we go in soon. My hair's going to frizz
up if we have to wait around in this damp atmosphere for much longer."

Ariel felt something grasp at her arm, so tightly
it hurt. She looked up; it was Ritchie, who was looking back down the queue, an
expression of mirth and incredulity on his face.

"Ariel! Look!" He carried on staring, apparently
unable to utter another word; he was going red and kept on squeezing her arm.

"Get off!" Ariel said.

"What's up, man?" said Shane, as they all followed
his gaze. "You look like you're straining on the khazi!"

"Down there!" he hissed, and nodded his head
southwards.

They all looked.

Wrapped up in turquoise mohair, smiling from ear to
ear at no-one in particular, doing a cutesy little jog on the spot to keep out
the cold, was Glynis Tooke, she of the Creative Workshop.

"Fuck!" said Ritchie. "I can feel me creativity being
nurtured even as we stand here!"

Ariel put her hand over her mouth.  "She's the last person
I'd have expected to see here. What's she going to do, sing them a merry
little ditty about domestic violence?"

It was at that moment that Glynis saw her.

"April!" she called out. "Yoo hoo! Great to see a
familiar face!"

She bounced away from her place in the queue,
ballerina pumped feet tripping along like a dancer's.

"Fuck!" said Ritchie again, and hid behind Dave, Shane and
Boz.

"Hi there," said Ariel, and walked over to where
she was standing. "You're auditioning, then, as well?"
Duh.

"Yessiree!" She put her hands at either side of her face,
palms outwards, and jiggled them from side to side, wiggling her fingers. "
And she sings, too
!" She laughed, and gave Ariel another ear to ear
smile. "Yes, I had some of The Sassy Monologues put to music, what do you
think of that? It's all very experimental, very free and innovative; I've
brought my bodhrán with me to add a little colour, too!" She reached over and whisked
some sort of Celtic looking drum and its beater out of a khaki coloured
knapsack that was lying on the ground, then gave Ariel an impromptu
demonstration. Ariel didn't dare look around at the others; she could see them
out of the corner of her eyes and had the distinct impression that they were
clutching each other with laughter.

"This contest is just the best, isn't it?" Glynis continued. "A real celebration of self-expression!" 

Ariel swallowed hard. "Yes, it's a great idea. Um, which
of your, er, monologues will you be doing for the audition?"

Glynis threw back her head, gave a little laugh and
said, "Oh, don't worry, I'm not doing 'One Thump Too Many'! No, I'm doing a
new one called 'Killer Heels'. It's about men who think we're oh so sexy in
our 'fuck me' shoes - when really we're using our
Killer Heels
to walk
all over
them
!" She made a fist. "It's
about
strong women
for
strong women - yeah, it's sassy and quirky, but it's
so
emotive,
too!"

"Sounds great."

Glynis beamed at her again. "Oh, you'll love it,
you'll, like,
so
identify with it! It's about women like you and
me, the sort who say, yeah, okay, I'm a bit crazy sometimes, I can be real
goofy, maybe even a little random, but if you can't take the worst of me then
you sure as hell ain't having the best, y'know?"

Somewhere in the middle of the last speech she had
developed some sort of faux American accent, Ariel noticed.

"Well, best of luck, then!" she said, swallowing
hard.

"You too, honey!" The US accent was still in place,
though it had changed now, from New England to Deep South. "Have you come down
on your own? Maybe we could hook up later - I sure ain't planning on
getting sent home today, I don't know 'bout you!"

"Well - no, I'm with some friends, actually, but
you're more than welcome to join us - for a drink, or something to eat, tonight." Oh dear. Ariel didn't want her to feel excluded; that, she realised as she
issued the invitation, was a hangover from her travelling days, when everyone
was free and easy and treated you like an old friend straight away, and no-one
was left out. Happy times.

"Oh? Who are you with?" English accent returned, Glynis
looked over her shoulder to see if she could see anyone she recognised; her
face fell, and Ariel realised she'd spotted Dave and Ritchie.

"Just my friend Melodie, and some others - a rock
band called Thor." She bit her lip. "Um, you probably remember Ritchie."

Glynis's eyes glazed over and her face broke into
its bright smile again, as if she'd just pressed a switch. "Yes! I remember
your friend, from the pub. They came to the workshop. Well, it's lovely to
see you anyway, April, and perhaps I'll see you inside - unless you're in the
under twenty-fives, of course!" She raised her arms above her head and waggled
her hands around. "Yay! Let's hear it for the top eighty!"

Ariel forced a smile. "Yes! Well, I'd, er, better get
back. I need to, er, go over my lyrics."

Glynis beamed at her. "You go girl! Catch you
later!" She bounced back off to where she'd been standing, the red flimsy
scarf tied around her messy dark topknot flowing in her wake.

Ariel re-joined the rest of them.

"Don't say anything.  Just don't," she said.

 

"Bands to the room on the left, under twenty-fives
to the right, over twenty-fives come with me, please!" said a girl with pink
spiky hair, dressed all in black, wearing a headset that she kept adjusting.

"That's us over there, then," Dave said, looking
down at Ariel. He kissed her, briefly, on the lips. "I thought we'd all be
together while we were waiting for the first auditions."

"Yeah, so did I, like on The X Factor, with people
doing backflips and street dancing and practising their singing in groups,"
said Melodie, peering into one of the rather bare rooms in which they were to wait,
disappointment all over her face.

BOOK: Dream On
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