On the way to the Regatta, I asked Sam if they’d thought more about auditioning another singer. He glanced at me in the rearview mirror. ‘It’s going to be hard to replace you.’
It hadn’t really felt like I was leaving until that moment. His words made it suddenly seem real. ‘You’ll find someone.’
‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘But she won’t be Lady Stardust.’
I hid my face from Tish so she didn’t tell me off for smudging all her hard work.
It was past nine. In Australia, my friends and family would be waking up to a sunny winter morning and getting ready for my return. Dad would be driving Nonna to church and Jack would be nursing his hangover and checking the surf. Phoenix would be scrambling to finish assignments for Monday and Ellie would be heading to the skate park. Life had gone on as usual for them, but for me, everything had changed.
I didn’t know how I was meant to go back to writing my own songs, picking out a melody without the safety net of the band. I didn’t know how I was going to sleep in the bedroom I’d had since I was eight, without the sound of eleven other girls snoring every night.
I didn’t know how I was going to leave Carter and Sam.
•
The smell of German sausages and fairy floss hung over the main street of Henley, which was lined with market stalls and blocked to traffic. In the town square, a stage had been set up with a view right down to the river. Richie was holding a corner of the banner that had bought our freedom to perform while Carter tied one edge to a pole. A girl in a tight dress perched on the lip of the stage, scrolling through her phone. For the first time, I was glad I was wearing Tish’s clothes.
Carter jumped down from his stepladder, and his gaze snagged on the sliver of skin at my waist. ‘Where you been hiding that body then, Jim?’
I blushed under all the make-up. ‘Somewhere you’d never find it.’
‘Oh, you wound me.’ He hit his chest with a mock arrow, then turned back to the banner. I wiped the lipstick off on my wrist. If I’d wanted a bigger reaction from him, I’d clearly never met the guy.
We were the first band on tonight, opening for the big acts. Nerves rose in my throat and I clamped them down, determined to enjoy our first and last real gig. I cranked out ‘Blister in the Sun’ again and the crowd laughed. From the corner of my eye, I saw Sam watching as if I was the conductor of our tiny orchestra. I wished Dad and Jack and Phoenix were here to see it. I wished Ellie could hear the words that had poured out of me when I finally knew I had lost her.
We moved seamlessly through the set list, letting each song stand on its own but building to the end. We had rehearsed our songs into oblivion and now muscle memory kicked in. All we had to do was ride the music until it set us gently down. I knew Carter, Sam and Richie would just find someone else to front the band, that they would write new songs with their new singer, but I was determined that they wouldn’t forget me. If I couldn’t be part of Lady Stardust forever, at least I could be the kind of founding member who left their mark.
The final song, of course, was ‘King Cutie’ and the audience went wild. As the feedback reverberated into silence, I was too emotional to say anything, so I grinned insanely at the crowd until Carter took the mic from me and thanked everyone for watching. When we finally leapt down from the stage, the sweat was drying cold on my skin.
Sam started dismantling the drum kit and Richie disappeared for a cigarette. Carter had his arm around the girl in the skintight dress and was heading towards the German sausage van. I leaned against the stage and breathed in the evening air.
A narrow-shouldered guy with thick-framed glasses approached me, hand outstretched. ‘Hi, I’m Jerry.’
Maybe one of the unfortunate side effects of playing a great gig was having to be polite to the randoms who’d enjoyed it. ‘Liliana,’ I said cautiously. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘I think it might be more what I can do for you,’ he said.
Ugh, what a line. He was a lot older than me. Sam was taking his equipment to his car, too far away for me to call for help, and Carter and his pull were lost in the crowd by now.
‘Liliana, is it?’ Jerry’s teeth were sharp. ‘I am in A&R at Beatnik Records.’
I let out a laugh. He was bold. Did he really think I’d fall for that?
He wordlessly extracted a business card from his pocket and tapped it twice on the edge of the stage before handing it over. The card had the Beatnik logo and this guy’s name: Jerry Love, Artist & Repertoire. Heat swept over my face. Beatnik wasn’t just a record company: they had the contract with Quest for the Best. They were the ones responsible for assembling Perfect Storm. This guy had probably met Addie Marmoset.
‘Someone sent me a link to your video channel and I thought I’d come along tonight and check you out.’ I sent a silent thank you to Tish, who had vanished in the direction of the fairy floss stall the minute our gig was over. ‘Let me say, that song – “King Cutie”? Brilliant. I’d like to introduce you to some of my colleagues. It’s not a guarantee of anything, but we’ll get you in front of the right people.’ He took a pen from the inside pocket of his blazer, plucked the business card from my fingers and wrote an address on the back. ‘How does midday tomorrow suit you?’
My grin faded. ‘I can’t …’ I spluttered.
‘Liliana,’ he said, grasping my hand. ‘I think you’ll find you can.’ He looked at me over his glasses, and the bottom fell out of the world as he wove back through the crowd.
I turned the card over a few times. At midday tomorrow I would be hurtling through the air, barely six hours into my trip home, after hugging Sam and Tish goodbye at the airport. I would be flying away from the biggest opportunity of my life while the boys sat down at Beatnik ‘in front of the right people’.
I did a circuit of the street and found Carter and the girl near the sausage stall. I held up Jerry’s business card and tried to assemble my face into the delight I knew Carter would feel. Maybe when I saw his reaction, it would be real.
‘You got any plans tomorrow?’ I said.
Carter grabbed the card from me as I told him what had just happened.
‘You’ve got to be joking!’ he exclaimed. ‘I missed that?’ He took hold of my waist and whirled me round, and my heart lurched with the breakneck turn the night had taken. ‘I knew this day would come! I knew we could do it! And in the nick of time, too. Just think, Jim, if it had been one day later, you would’ve been back in Australia already.’
‘I can’t go,’ I said. ‘I have to get my flight.’
His mouth tightened and he abruptly let me go. ‘Jimi. It’s Beatnik Records.’
‘You and Sam and Richie should go.’
‘Of course you’re going. Just delay your flight by a week. You can stay with Tish.’
‘I can’t delay it. It’s a non-refundable ticket and Dad’s expecting me.’
He frowned for a moment and then brightened. ‘Well, let’s see if we can change your mind. This calls for a celebration, in any case. Find Richie and Sam. I’ll meet you in the Angel.’
•
Carter arranged a handful of glasses on the table and opened a bottle of whisky. From the schoolhouse, I’d often looked across the river at the pub beside the bridge, and now we were inside – Carter was right, no-one was checking ID. At first, knowing we could still be thrown out at any minute put me on edge, but the harried bar staff didn’t give us a second glance and after a few minutes I relaxed.
‘Do you think Jerry Love is his real name?’ Carter necked his drink and poured a second. The girl in the bandage dress – Stevie, Carter had said her name was – had followed us here and was now perched beside him, watching us closely.
‘It doesn’t matter. And you’d better not ask him tomorrow or you’ll ruin it for everyone,’ I said, ignoring the whisky he’d placed in front of me.
‘It’s no use anyway,’ Richie said. ‘If Liliana’s not coming, they’re not going to want us.’ I wondered if Richie realis
ed this was the first time he’d ever admitted that I was any good, even in a backhanded way. ‘Why are you all pretending we’re in with a shot? He wanted the band, and we’re not the band without Liliana.’
‘You’ll just have to rebrand yourself as a three-piece until you find another singer,’ I said. ‘And you’d better thank me in your Supernova speech when you’re famous.’
‘Anyway, Jerry Love might not even be the guy to impress,’ said Sam. ‘A&R puts artists forward, but I’m pretty sure it’s management that hands out record deals.’
‘Don’t you want that?’ Carter said to me, motioning towards my glass, and I shook my head. He held it aloft. ‘A toast. To Liliana.’ All his usual bravado was gone and he looked like he was enjoying my astonishment. ‘Our lives changed when you arrived in England and we wouldn’t be here without you. Even though you’re leaving us, you’ll always be part of Lady Stardust.’
CHAPTER 15
It smelled less like beer in the back room of the pub, and the lights were brighter. Carter and Richie were chasing each other around a pool table, failing to pot any balls, while Stevie watched from the sidelines. I set a pound coin on the edge and leaned back against the chipped wall of the pub.
‘Reckon you can best me, Jimi?’ Carter grinned.
‘You think I left my pool skills back with my jeans?’ I shot back.
‘Oh, it is on.’ He took a swig of his beer and nodded to Richie. ‘Just let me finish wiping the floor with this douchebag – you’re next.’
I watched the end of the game, standing next to Stevie and sipping the orange juice Tish had bought me. Dance hits of the noughties were playing from the front of the pub – Pussycat Dolls, Vengaboys, bands that had faded without a trace – but the speaker back here was dusty and the sound was muted. Carter potted the last ball and declared himself the champion. ‘How’d you like that?’ he whooped, then grabbed Stevie and kissed her. I tried not to look. How had I ever thought I could compete with that? It would take more than a skimpy top and a bit of lipstick to give me the confidence to kiss someone in a crowded pub.
I rolled my eyes at Richie, who looked like he was used to it. ‘I’ll break, then, shall I?’
Carter disentangled himself and strode over. When we played pool in the rec room we were evenly matched, but tonight his first shot was sloppy, probably thanks to the Scotch. I sank two balls smoothly. When I leaned over the table to take my third shot, he came up behind me and pinched my bare waist. The ball thumped across the table and I whacked the cue against his chest. He just laughed.
‘You are kind of asking for it,’ said Richie. ‘Dressed like that.’
This was such a predictable comment from Richie that it was hard to be offended. ‘Tell me, Richie, when did you graduate to full dickhead?’ I said. ‘Did you have to pass a test or do they just hand out certificates based on brain function?’
Carter stepped sideways past me. ‘Don’t listen to him, Jim. I like the new ensemble.’
‘You can blame Tish for that,’ I said, down to the last ball. ‘It was a stupid experiment.’
He bent over and skimmed the cue a couple of times over his fingers. ‘Oh yeah? What was the hypothesis?’
I leaned in and said, close to his ear, ‘That it would get you to notice me.’
His cue skidded over his hand and the white ball missed its mark.
‘That’s two to me,’ I said. ‘Psych.’
Carter was looking at me sideways. My heart was hammering, but I potted the black as casually as I could and laid the cue down on the table.
‘Should’ve put money on it, Jimi,’ he said, and I thought his voice shook, but I could have been imagining it.
I went upstairs in search of the bathroom. How could I have said that to him, and in front of Richie and Stevie, too? There was no reason for me to put my neck out like that. Unless Tish was right – maybe I did have nothing to lose.
I splashed cold water on my face. Some of it trickled down my neck. There was no paper towel so I dried my hands in my hair. Tish’s styling products held firm, although I’d sweated a lot of the make-up off during the show. Black residue had gathered in the corners of my eyes.
The bathrooms were next to an empty function room with a balcony that looked out over the river. I could hear the shouts from the street party behind the pub and, across the water, I could just about make out the boathouse and the willow, its fronds reaching into the river.
I didn’t have a right to be disappointed. What had I expected from tonight, anyway? I was leaving first thing tomorrow. Maybe when I was back in the same country as Ellie, I could make it up to her. The two months at the academy would be a blip and I would forget all about Carter.
Behind me, someone said my name. Carter, of course. I should have known there’d be a reckoning. He held up his cigarettes. ‘Want one?’
I shook my head and he stood beside me, leaning against the balcony railings and gazing at the river.
‘It’s weird to think you won’t be here tomorrow,’ he said. ‘I feel like you just got here.’
‘Me too,’ I said, and suddenly I felt trapped, suffocated, my early morning flight looming. I leaned against him and he let out the smoke in a stream.
‘You must be excited to get home,’ he said.
‘Not really,’ I admitted. ‘I missed it a lot at first.’
‘But that was before the band.’ His eyes were trained on my face.
I breathed out. ‘Yeah, that was before the band.’
‘Do you think this is real, Liliana?’ he said. I straightened – he never called me Liliana. ‘I mean, it feels like we could be on the brink of something. Like the whole world is about to give way.’
I would never have dared to say it aloud, I would’ve been scared that putting words to it would jinx it, but Carter wasn’t afraid of that. I wasn’t sure if Carter was afraid of anything. It was a weird power, giving a name to it. For a second I wondered if I could call Dad and explain, with six hours to go before my flight. Would he understand? Would he pay for another flight back? But what if Beatnik offered us a record deal? They’d want me to stay in England, and Dad would never let me do that.
Our bodies were flush against each other as though we could form a barrier to the wind.
‘After my dad left, I kind of felt like nothing was real,’ he said. ‘It was like, if I couldn’t even tell that he was going to leave, and I lived with him – how could I trust anything at all? It’s taken me a long time to trust my instincts.’ His gaze flicked to my mouth. ‘But this …’ he murmured. ‘I’m pretty sure this is real.’
And that’s when I knew he hadn’t been talking about Beatnik.
His mouth met mine and it was a couple of seconds before I believed it, before I stopped holding myself upright and relaxed against his weight. God, it’d been ages since I’d kissed anyone, and it was overwhelming, the taste and smell of him, beer and smoke and breath and sweat and delicious. He pushed me against the railings, his jeans rough on my bare legs, zero to sixty in half a minute. I tried not to think that he’d been doing this with Stevie only minutes ago, or wonder what it might mean, or what he might think of me afterwards, but I couldn’t ignore it.
‘Carter ...’ I murmured.
‘Huhm ...’
‘Carter. Wait.’ He drew back, touching his mouth. I floundered. ‘Shouldn’t we talk about this?’
He looked away, as though there was something fascinating in the dark river, as if he could see inside the boathouse on the other side. ‘Um, OK, if you want.’
‘Look, I don’t know what’s going on with you and Stevie ...’
‘She’s not my girlfriend.’ His hand moved to my waist, slipping under the hem of Tish’s camisole to pull me close again, and I remembered him touching my hands under the willow tree all those weeks ago, and Verity’s tear-streaked face in the bathroom mirror.
‘It’s got nothing to do with us,’ he said. ‘You and me, Liliana – that’s something else. I’ve want
ed you for weeks.’
He kissed me again and I curved up into him before my head could kick in. The cold railings dug into my back. I hooked his belt loops through my fingers, pulling him closer.
‘God ...’ he murmured. ‘This is something else ...’
What was wrong with me? This was what I’d wanted – what I’d been angling for all night. The only reason to fight it was self-preservation, which, as reasons went, didn’t seem very compelling right now. His pulse rushed under my fingers, and I remembered how quickly the Scotch had disappeared.
‘How foxed are you?’ I asked.
‘Sober as a judge,’ he said into my mouth. His fingers linked through mine. We stopped talking and I finally forgot about Stevie and the band and tomorrow and my flight in six hours and the meeting with Beatnik. There was nothing but the taste of him and the feel of his body against me and the blood flowing through mine.
The light came on in the function room and I hastily yanked the camisole straight. Carter shielded me with his body as I blinked over at Richie, who did not seem amused.
‘Oh mate. Seriously? What is it with you?’ I was still fully clothed but, as Richie’s eyes swept over me, I felt like I wasn’t. ‘Does he have a chocolate-flavoured penis or something?’
‘That’s racist,’ said Carter mildly.
Richie shrugged. ‘I’ve been looking for you. Sam is looking for you. Your girlfriend is looking for you.’
‘What can I say, I’m a popular guy.’ Carter tugged his T-shirt down. I noticed he didn’t correct Richie on whether Stevie was his girlfriend. ‘You got a good reason for interrupting?’
‘They’re pulling down the stage. Techie wants you to get your gear out of the way. You can put your stuff in my car if you like.’
Carter went to follow him out, but before he left, he grabbed my waist.
‘Let’s continue this later, yeah?’ He kissed me again, more forcefully than I was expecting.
Behind him Richie muttered, ‘Unbelievable,’ but I didn’t care.
Stars Like Us Page 7
