Wishful Thinking (6 page)

“And this…Amber person – are they, you know, together?”

Katya shrugged and tossed her thick brown curls. “On and off, though more off than on these days, more’s the pity.”

Jess gave her a quizzical look. She didn’t want to be indebted to Katya, having harboured such ungenerous thoughts about her, but she seemed to be a font of knowledge on the subject and the temptation was overpowering. “Oh? And why is that, do you think?”

“Well they have a history, you know,” Katya said, sounding far older than her twelve years. “They were a big item a few years ago but something went wrong. The fans were devastated when they separated, of course. But after the band split, she went off with Adam.”

“Adam?”

“Adam Ainsworth – from Wishful – the lead guitarist –
you
know. He’s
gorgeous.
”

Jess repeated the name of the band to herself. Yes it did sound vaguely familiar to her, but there were so many of these bands nowadays – many of them one hit wonders. She certainly could not recall any of their music.

“You seem to know a lot about them, Katya,” Jess said politely. It didn’t seem so many years ago that she could speak of her idols in that knowledgeable way – as if they were all her intimate friends.

“Durr! It’s my job to know about them or I wouldn’t be able to write my blog.”

Jess stared at her, blinking hard. “You write a blog on a group that’s no longer together?”

“Well the band split but it re-formed again with some of the original members. Now there’s talk of a reunion with Christian and Amber and that’s mega news. Do you want to come and see my blog? If you follow it, you can get my newsletter sent to you.”

Jess could think of no verbal response and so followed Katya along the corridor to her room – a pink and mauve glittering wonderland fit for a fairy princess and far too young for Katya, Jess thought. Her pink laptop was open on a little heart-shaped desk and Katya quickly pulled up her blog page – also pink and crammed with information and photos. There was Christian in a dozen guises and poses: receiving awards, out on the town, Christian with numerous, glamorous women, Christian smiling alongside famous Hollywood stars both male and female, Christian on stage and crooning into a microphone with Amber at his side and a surrounding band – it was a pink shrine to Christian Goodchild and Amber Rayne.

Katya hit a button and loud band music filled the room. The sound was indistinguishable from many other modern bands in Jess’s opinion, but the vocals were surprisingly melodic and harmonious and, of course, it was not unfamiliar to her. She must have heard it on the car radio several times without really registering what it was.

“And this is Amber. Most people say it’s not her best, but I don’t care. It’s
my
favourite.” Katya flipped the screen to a YouTube video where a young woman in a provocative school uniform with the obligatory short tie and mini-skirt sulked into camera through a laser cage before stepping through the bars and strolling around a mock classroom complete with old-fashioned blackboard. Jess tried to focus on the lyrics rather than watch her climbing over desks and upturned chairs.

It ain’t that I bunked my lessons; it’s not that I was bad.

I sat in the back row, good as gold; smiled and did what I was told,

Jess quickly lost interest in the trite lyrics, expecting one of those typical teenage protest songs but then the tempo suddenly changed and Amber’s voice seemed to drop about an octave, her voice becoming very earthy and soulful as she practically sobbed the repetition on the next line:

I was a low, low, low, low flier; tried my best, just couldn’t climb higher

From then on it was impossible not to take notice and acknowledge that Amber had a remarkable and versatile voice that made compulsive listening. The lyrics turned around the usual message, evidently aimed at the low-profile, middle of the road kids who drift through school without ever being noticed or singled out as special. Amber’s message was about not letting the lack of academic achievement prevent them from following their heart's desire. No wonder the kids rate it, Jess thought. The song had been Amber’s first solo hit. It was certainly different to the girl band songs she’d listened to at Katya’s age.

“You like?” Katya asked as the song came to an end.

Jess nodded. “Very interesting.”

“You can sign in and join here, if you like,” Katya invited. “I haven’t had any new followers for nearly a week and I need to get my numbers up. Then I can keep you posted on both of them.”

Jess gazed at the crowded page and noted that the site had over three thousand followers. “I’ll tell you what – here’s my email address. If you send me the link, I’ll do it as soon as I get home so I can post a comment too. You have a lot of posts here and I’d like to sit and read them properly. It’s an impressive site, Katya. Well done.”

Katya preened. “I know. I work very hard on it. I should run Christian’s fan club really – I’d do a much better job of it than Paige Steele.” Katya paused, before muttering “Even if she
has
met him in person.”

Jess nodded sympathetically. “So his relationship with Amber is not…on, at the moment, as far as you know?”

Katya sat back in her chair, looking for all the world like a little starlet being interviewed on television. “Well personally I think Amber should stick with Adam. After all he says he adores her and that’s what she needs. Christian has his own career to take care of now and the fans can’t get enough of his films. We’re longing for him to sing in one of them.” She released a long-suffering sigh. “But she and Christian just can’t leave each other alone. They need closure, so they can move on. But I think they’re in each other’s skin.”

In each other’s skin
. The strange expression made Jess shudder slightly. It created an image of Lady Macbeth scrubbing away at the imaginary blood-stain on her hands.

“So
is
he the one you had facetime with? I need you to dish the dirt so I can blog about it.” Katya said forcefully, interrupting her thoughts. “It could be the exclusive of the year for me!”

Jess shook her head. “No, it was just someone like him. It wasn’t him, I’m afraid.”

Katya gave a contemptuous little snort. “I didn’t think so. I knew that silly little boy was wrong.”

All Jess’s old irritation with the precocious child re-surfaced. “He’s not often
that
wrong, Katya. If you took the trouble to get to know him, you’d find out.”

6

Although Adam supported Christian in trying to persuade Amber to stay in the clinic, she insisted on leaving, against the advice of all the staff. She claimed she felt ‘marvellous’ and didn’t want to miss the remainder of the Christmas festivities. After all, the band had made a special effort to get together for the celebration at Christian’s house, whether or not Christian could be bothered to join them for the whole holiday.

He’d returned from his parents on Christmas night to find her busy on the phone tipping off her sleazy press contacts. He guessed that meant she was hoping for the red carpet treatment when she exited the clinic. Amber was only ever happy when she was in the spotlight – a real press-darling. She had probably tipped them off about her intended overdose too – day, time, location, etc.

Once again he berated himself for his cynical thoughts and felt immediately guilty. His pity for Amber always overrode his anger with her. Outside of the band, very few people knew what a terrible life she’d had before being catapulted to fame in Wishful. He thought of her now much more as a sister than an ex-girlfriend. They’d come through such a lot together. He still loved her, but not in the way he once thought he did, when they were both so young and naïve. He knew her good points and her bad points and neither made any difference to their friendship.

When she started seeing Adam, he felt a great sense of relief. There was no better bloke in the world than Wishful’s lead guitarist and of all the band members, Christian felt closest to him. Undoubtedly the most talented, he worshipped Amber and seemed absolutely right for her. Amber knew that on her better days. But on her bleaker days, could be just too much for the sensitive Adam to handle.

Adam arranged to meet them at the clinic at 10 am, but he didn’t show and Christian couldn’t raise him on his mobile. He called Justin at the house who questioned the others but no one had seen him since the night before. It was a big house – easy to avoid people if you wanted privacy. Whatever Adam’s reason, Christian felt pretty sure it must be a good one.

But that left him in the lurch, with no choice but to escort Amber out alone. He’d pleaded with her to leave by the back door but she would have none of it. She’d called her beautician in at eight and felt no inclination to waste all that make up. Although she smiled in a bright and brittle way, she appeared far too unstable for his liking – but she’d made up her mind. They needed to get the ordeal over and done with as quickly as possible.

At least she’d agreed to cancel her commitments until after the New Year – which explained why her manager was stuck in his office on Boxing Day, sorting everything out. She would go straight to ‘Westacres’ where two nurses were awaiting her. That was the best compromise he could manage from her. Once he had her safely home and out of harm’s way, he might be able to start thinking about himself.

And Jess. Try as he might, he had failed to push Jess out of his mind. He realised she wouldn’t remain at ‘Good Rest Ye’, of course, when he saw the thaw setting in. He’d wished hard for more snow to keep her at the hotel for a few more days but when he saw the roads on his early morning dash into London, he waved goodbye to that idea. Before leaving, he’d had no time to write more than a quick note and had berated himself ever since for not writing more; telling her he wanted to see her again; or even giving her his phone number so she could call him.

On his return to the hotel the next day, he checked almost immediately to see what message she’d left for him, but to his dismay found none. Either his mother forgot to take her phone number, or Jess forgot to leave it. Of course, there also existed the possibility that she didn’t want to give it to him, but he preferred not to consider that.

He then checked her registration details and suffered yet more disappointment at finding only a name and a London postcode – and that so badly-written, he could barely make out the last three digits. His parents’ inefficiency in not insisting on proper registration details shocked him. Fliss, the usual receptionist, would never permit such incompetence. He even wandered into the room Jess and Ben had occupied, though not expecting to find anything – which, of course, he didn’t. For a moment he tried to persuade himself that her perfume still lingered in the air, but he failed to convince himself entirely.

And that was that. End of story. He couldn’t contact her, even if he wanted to. And in fact, he wasn’t sure if he
did
want to, or rather, if he should. His life seemed complicated enough right now. The best thing for both of them would be to draw a line under that night - closure. But it was hard to find closure when your mind kept taunting you about what hadn’t yet opened, or begun, he thought. He couldn’t help wondering what might have happened, had circumstances been different.

But right now he had Amber to worry about and Adam to sort out; another quick trip to LA followed almost immediately by a round of premieres and other red carpet appearances; not to mention a pile of scripts to read and consider. This was not the time to be embarking on a new relationship; especially one that came with baggage of her own in the form of a child.

He sat at his desk in the study of his Weybridge mansion – one of the few ‘off limits’ rooms in the house – and tapped Jess’s possible postcode combinations into Google.

****

“Home at last, Ben. Let’s get all our things unpacked and you can play with your new toys. I have a feeling Santa might even have left something behind under our tree upstairs.”

Although Ben had slept through most of the journey, as usual, he still appeared sleepy and subdued. Jess looked at him in concern. She had to be back at work tomorrow and Ben would have to be alert for the usual early morning routine in order to spend the day with the child-minder. It wasn’t the life she wanted, and she knew it wasn’t what Ben would prefer. Of course he was perfectly happy with his child-minder; she had no fears on that score. Maeve was a lovely Irish lady with two children of her own who seemed to adore Ben and with whom he played quite happily. Extremely artistic, Maeve did wonderful, creative things with the children, which they loved. They baked, they painted, they even made pottery and weird and wonderful sculptures but most of all, and what Ben liked best, they created and performed their own plays. Maeve called them ‘costume dramas’ and the children loved dressing up and performing to any willing audience – human or animal.

It was an idyllic lifestyle for any child. It would have been an idyllic lifestyle for Jess, if only it could have been hers. That was the role she had envisioned when she was pregnant with Ben and she thought the whole world would bloom and blossom for her and her child. Her partner promised her all that, so she had every right to expect it. Every right to believe in it. More fool her.