The Reluctant Celebrity

by Ellingham, Laurie

Unzipping his holdall, he rummaged through the clean clothes he’d packed first thing that morning until his hands touched upon his small black wash-kit. He had no idea how much time he had to kill but he might as well unpack and have a shave, he decided, opening the door to his room and crossing the hallway.

  His hand tightened around the cool brass doorknob, twisting it in his hand. Just as he heard the click of the spring he recalled Mrs Beckwith’s directions. He had gone straight-ahead instead of right, but it was too late to correct his mistake. The door released under the pressure from his hand and swung open to reveal a room identical to his own, but Guy’s gaze could focus on just one thing – Juliet.

  She stood in the middle of the room, wearing nothing but a black underwear set. The sight of her body pushed his head into a turbulent spin; the speech he’d practised late into the night disappeared as if someone had pressed the delete button.

  Guy watched her, open-mouthed, his eyes unable to move from the large blue bruise that travelled in misshapen blotches out from her underwear and down the curve of her bottom.

  ‘Ahh,’ she cried out, her eyes widened at the sight of him as she grappled to cover herself with a flimsy jumper.

  ‘Sorry.’ Guy blurted out as he fought to gain control, forcing his gaze away from her legs and up to her face; the green wells of her eyes as distracting as her half-naked body. ‘I thought this was the bathroom,’ he continued holding up his wash-kit as if it could vouch for his error.

  Without waiting for a response, Guy reached his hand back to the door handle, pulling it towards him before she could hear the noise of his heartbeat, amplified to the same volume as the stage speakers he used.

  Shit. What had he just done? Walking in on Jules in her underwear was not part of the plan.

  He stepped quickly away from the door, relieved to find the bathroom exactly where it should have been at the end of the small landing.

  Twenty

  Jules daren’t move as she listened to the sound of her heart raging through her body.

  She wished she could believe the man in the doorway had been a sick mind trick brought on by the shock of seeing parts of her life displayed so callously across two pages of a national tabloid. But the noise of running water coming from the bathroom made the past few seconds impossible to ignore.

  Jules pressed a hand against her chest willing herself to calm down. She had been moments away from being completely naked when the door had opened. It could have been a lot worse, she tried to reassure herself.

  In the instant before she had turned towards the doorway she had known it was him. The light had been there again, the feeling of a weight lifting from her body as if she’d taken off a heavy backpack after a long journey. She pushed the thought away before it could settle.

  Pulling on her discarded clothes, she stepped barefoot into the hallway, half expecting it to be empty after all. But there he was, standing in the open bathroom. A blue and white toothbrush in his hand. He placed the toothbrush next to hers in the aubergine china holder, like it was the most natural thing to do in the world.

  He had remembered to pack it, she realised suddenly as anger and pain swept over her so quickly it brought with it a wave of dizziness. In his rush to back up his things and run away to London, he’d remembered to pack his toothbrush.

  She was going to be sick.

  For the first time in all the years since, Jules wondered how long he had been planning it. She had always assumed their argument had driven him away, but maybe he had planned to leave her like that all along.

  It didn’t matter now, she didn’t care anymore. She swallowed back the taste of bile rising up the back of her throat.

  ‘Sorry about that Jules,’ Guy said, his tone impossibly light as he stared at her.

  He had called her Jules, not Juliet, but Jules. For a reason she couldn’t understand it maddened her more than when he’d called her by her full name.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ She forced herself to look at him. His eyes bore into her. She wanted to run away; she wanted to cry; she wanted to hit him as hard as she could, all at the same time.

  She clamped her teeth together, willing her body to stop bombarding her with emotions.

  ‘Would you believe me if I told you I fancied a mini-break?’ His face lifted into a familiar side grin.

  ‘No I wouldn’t.’

  How dare he joke? After the trouble he had caused he still had the gall to joke, she thought. A red heat crept up her neck and onto her face as she struggled to keep calm.

  ‘Alright then, I came here because I wanted to see you.’ Guy held his hands up in surrender.

  ‘Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear the last time,’ Jules began, fighting to keep her voice even. ‘I am not going to get involved with you or your publicity stunts, so leave me alone.’

  ‘I’m not asking you too.’

  His gaze continued to drive into her, the force feeling like a shove as the back of her heels teetered on the edge of the landing.

  You’re not asking me? Since when did you care about asking me? Unless I am mistaken nobody asked me two weeks ago if I wanted my picture splashed on the front page of that trash like some kind of…of….’ Jules struggled to find the right word. Instead she continued, ‘AND nobody asked me if I would mind having my life played out in that crap.’

  ‘I know,’ he mumbled ‘I’m so sorry. I should never have mentioned you, but I really hope you believe me when I say I had nothing to do with the rest of it.’

  ‘Really? And what have you done that would make me think for one second that you are anything more than a selfish pig? And what about me? How many people are going to believe the lies printed about me? It’s all well and good for you; I’m the one who’s been painted as a monster. Estranged from my parents,’ she began lifting her thumb up to count one, but she couldn’t remember the rest of the lies. For some reason the comment about her parents seemed to be the only one really bothering her.

  Guy opened his mouth, but closed it again quickly.

  ‘What?’ she demanded.

  ‘Look I know it’s all complete rubbish, but when I saw Bernie and Nora they mentioned that they hadn’t seen you since Christmas. I was surprised, that’s all.’

  ‘I love my parents. Just because I don’t…’ Jules stopped. What was she doing? ‘Hang on, I don’t need to explain myself to you, so you can stop with the guilt trip okay?’

  Jules closed her eyes, blocking Guy from view, but his image and his words still stuck in her head.

  ‘You’re right, I’m sorry. I came here to explain, to make sure you’re okay, I know the effect these stories can have and I’m truly truly sorry.’

  She paused for a moment, processing his words, before she said, ‘Fine.’

  ‘Fine as in?’ Guy questioned, another smile touching his lips.

  ‘Fine, as in thank you for the apology, as you can see I am okay, so if you don’t mind I am going for a run, please don’t be here when I get back.’

  ‘Great. It’s been a long journey and I could do with stretching my legs.’

  ‘No. No way are you coming with me. And since when do you run anyway?’

  ‘Since when do you?’ he shot back, his voice remaining infuriatingly smooth. ‘Is that a yes then?’

  ‘No it’s not.’ Jules stormed back to her bedroom, slapping her hand hard against the door. The sting hitting her at the same time as the door crashed shut.

  She couldn’t get her head around his sudden presence and the reason for his return. He seemed so at ease, like none of the pain he’d caused her mattered.

  Bastard.

  She could get in her car and go. Drive somewhere far away until Guy got the message and left. The thought of being recognised by The Daily readers didn’t matter in comparison to spending another minute with him. But why should she? Guy was the one that should be leaving, not her. She had no intention of being run out of her home.

  Five minutes later, Jules tightened the laces
of her trainers and stepped out of the guesthouse, ignoring the painful bruises on her back and stretching her hands to her toes.

  For the first time since Guy had invaded her life, she did not feel the punch of shock from seeing him as he stood by the door waiting for her.

  Twenty-one

  ‘What do you think you are doing? And what on earth are you wearing?’ Jules demanded.

  ‘What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?’ Guy bent his head down, eyeing the mud streaked black shorts and dirty red T-shirt he’d unearthed from an abandoned football kit lurking in the boot of his car.

  The T-shirt stretched against his chest, rising up to show an inch of stomach between the painfully tight waistband of his shorts. The last time he’d worn it he had still been modelling, when a beer after work had a penalty worse than death. It seemed the months of Chinese takeaways and bottled beers had taken its toll on his waistline.

  ‘Don’t think for a second that I’m going to let you run with me. Go back to London Guy.’

  Her green eyes flashed in the sun light, unlocking a million memories from deep inside the recesses of his mind. It filled him with a longing more desperate than he could have imagined possible.

  He had to tell her. Just not now. He’d have to wait until he knew she would listen, and based on her particular outfit, she would most definitely be considered a flight risk.

  ‘So where are we going?’ he asked instead.

  ‘I am going up that hill’ she replied, pointing to the woodland sloping up behind the guesthouse. ‘You are going back to wherever it is you came from to buy a washing machine and leave me alone.’

  Guy ignored the latter half of her statement. ‘Great, let’s go.’

  Jules stretched her athletic frame to the floor and touched her toes. He thought he saw her flinch, but her face remained impassive.

  ‘Seriously, you are not coming with me.’

  ‘Okay then,’ Guy conceded.

  A look of surprise crossed her face. ‘Good then.’

  Without saying goodbye, she took a few steps passed him, her body springing into action as she strode from the driveway and out of Guy’s sights.

  ‘Shit,’ he said aloud, sprinting after her.

  He made it to the roadside just in time to catch a flash of Jules’ body already disappearing up a thin mud path to the right of the guesthouse.

  Guy could feel the Danish swirl he’d eaten for breakfast lurch to the top of his stomach as he began his chase. How long could she continue at this speed? He wondered as his breath started to shorten under the strain of his sudden burst of exercise.

  He had never considered himself unfit before, but Jules appeared to be in a different league, he realised as she accelerated up the steep slope.

  Ignoring the sweet smell of fresh earth hitting his nostrils and the tranquil quiet of the woodland, Guy ploughed forward, forcing his legs to keep moving.

  ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Her voice startled him from his battle with the hill. The painful cramp snaking across his abdomen like a slashing knife relinquished its fury as he drew to a stop, slumping against the tree next to where Jules stood; her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed on him. She hadn’t even broken a sweat.

  ‘Running. Or dying maybe, it’s hard to tell at this point,’ he gasped between long pants for oxygen.

  ‘I thought you agreed to leave me alone.’

  ‘No,’ he replied, drawing in another long gulp of air, ‘I agreed that I wouldn’t run with you.’

  ‘So what are you doing?’

  ‘What?’ he asked in mock innocence. ‘I’m running on my own. I just happen to be taking the same route as you.’

  ‘Argh you are so infuriating.’

  ‘I know,’ he said, his reply unheard as Jules sprinted off again.

  Surely the valley had to end at some point, he pleaded, pushing off from the tree and feeling a pain grip his thighs as he started striding again.

  Guy had no idea how much time had passed. He kept going; head down against the almost vertical hill, his trainers crunching against the burnt orange of the fallen leaves. The chase for Jules momentarily forgotten as he battled against the cries of resistance from his body.

  Suddenly the crowded trees dispersed allowing sunlight to break in streams around him. He had made it. Guy took a long breath of relief, easing to a stop as he reached a large grassy clearing.

  Jules stood a few metres away from him, her body twisted in a bizarre pose as if she was walking a tight rope.

  His aching limbs forgotten, he strode towards her.

  ‘GUY WAIT,’ Jules cried out. ‘Don’t come any closer. The ground is about to give-’ she cut off as he reached her and realised too late what she was trying to say.

  The long grass of the hilltop had hidden the uneven ground, now crumbling underneath their feet.

  Jules went first. Her body slipping into the ground. He grabbed her wrist, trying to stop her falling, but there was nothing he could do to stop the ground disintegrating beneath them as they tumbled downwards into the darkness; their bodies tangling as they landed with a heavy thud.

  Twenty-two

  ‘Ouch. Now look what you’ve done,’ Jules cried out as she pulled her legs out from under his.

  ‘Hey, I tried to save you.’

  ‘Save me? If you hadn’t insisted on following me up here I wouldn’t be in this mess. Or better still, if you hadn’t used me to sell papers, or come to Cottinghale I-’

  ‘Okay, okay, I get it,’ Guy cut in as he scrambled to his feet. ‘For the hundredth time, I’m sorry. But blaming me isn’t going to help get us out of here. Now, are you hurt?’

  She said nothing.

  ‘Jules, please just tell me if you’re okay?

  ‘Well let’s see shall we – in the past week I’ve had lies about me printed in a national newspaper; I arrived at my new property to find my ceiling had collapsed; my back door smashed into smithereens; my stairs fell down whilst I was standing on them, and now I’m stuck in a bloody great big hole with you. So no, I am definitely not okay.’

  To Jules’ surprise, Guy scrunched his eyes shut and turned away from her, his body shaking.

  ‘Please tell me you are not laughing?’ she pushed herself up from the floor, her muscles crying out with pain after the fierce run she’d forced herself to do.

  ‘You do realise that we are stuck in the middle of nowhere with no way out?’

  A peel of deep laughter echoed around the darkened space. ‘Yes,’ he gasped between breaths.

  ‘That’s just great.’ Jules stepped away, her gaze scouring the darkness for an escape route or something to hit him with. Either would do at that particular moment.

  She could see the four square walls of what looked like an old cellar, but no way out. Above them, pockets of sunlight streamed through from across the length of the hole. If she jumped high enough, she might just be able to touch the earthy ceiling, but there was nothing to grip hold of or anything that could be used to climb up.

  ‘Oh come on, it’s kind of funny,’ Guy said, his laughter abating.

  She stared at him, fighting a smile that was threatening to break out. She couldn’t give him the satisfaction of laughing with him, however contagious his humour felt.

  He stopped laughing and gave an apologetic shrug.

  ‘Come on, give me a bunk,’ she said, stepping under the gap of light where they’d fallen.

  ‘What? You can’t be serious; you’ll never be able to pull yourself up.’

  ‘Yes I will, now come on,’ she commanded with more confidence than she felt.

  Guy did not move. He had stopped laughing, but the crooked smile that she remembered so well still touched his lips.

  ‘What?’ she asked

  ‘Was this your plan all along?’

  ‘What plan?’

  ‘Trapping me down here and then escaping. Leaving me to die a slow and painful death?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll get help,’ J
ules replied. Just maybe after a few hours, she added to herself.

  ‘I saw that look. I’m not helping you if you’re just going to leave me. Why don’t you give me a bunk?’

  ‘Guy,’ she sighed. ‘I promise I’ll will get help, now come on.’

  Despite the circumstances, Jules felt herself relax in Guy’s presence.

  ‘Fine.’ He took a step towards her, their bodies close.

  If she leant forward just a few inches her lips would graze against the stubble line of his neck. Jules leapt back. Where had that thought sprung from? This was someone she hated with every fibre of her being.

  She had to get out.

  ‘Ready?’ he asked.

  Her eyes met his. With the sunlight shining in from above them she could see the flecks of green in his otherwise dark pupils. They had always been that way. From a distance they appeared almost black, but up close they had speckles of a bright green which seemed to dance when he smiled. She had forgotten how mesmerising those flecks could be.

  The heat from his body radiated towards her.

  The effect was intoxicating.

  For one second, before she could gain control of her thoughts, she wished she was in his arms. But no matter how much her body seemed to react to him, she couldn’t do it to herself.

  She had to get out.

  ‘Yes, come on then,’ she finally croaked.

  ‘Juliet,’ Guy said in a deep whisper.

  ‘Don’t Guy. Whatever it is, don’t,’ she pleaded. She couldn’t take anymore.

  He nodded as if he understood before crouching down and cupping his hands out towards her.

  Lifting her left leg up, she rested her trainer on the step he had made, preparing herself to push upwards. She had to get out, she repeated over and over in her head.

  ‘Rest your hands on my shoulders.’

  Reluctantly, Jules placed her hands either side of his head, desperately trying to block the sound of the sea rushing in her ears as her heart pounded in response to their touch.

  With her right leg she pushed against the ground, leaping up at the same time as Guy lifted with his arms, pushing her towards the opening.