Beyond the Lens

by Hannah Ellis

  “Why three weeks?”

  “Presumably because by then the interest will have died down and no one will care what any of us have to say.” I shrugged. “I don’t know. We have to do a live show in three weeks. I don’t know what will happen then.”

  Chapter 26

  More reporters blocked the doorway when I arrived home. Squeezing my way through, I politely said I couldn’t speak to them and went inside, with the intention of hibernating for a long time.

  I started to unpack my bag and laughed when I found the T-shirt that Chrissie had cut away at. A wave of sadness washed over me and I made a conscious effort not to let myself spiral into a pit of despair. I threw everything in the wash and then wandered the apartment aimlessly. Kerry had warned me not to watch the TV. Apparently we were getting a fair amount of coverage. She told me it was big news that we had arrived home, and there was a lot of media speculation about our public silence.

  Melissa shouted hello as she came in, then disappeared to her room. I sat on the couch with a book in my hands, though I couldn’t focus on it and read the same page several times. I got ready for bed and paced the apartment in my pyjamas, sure I wouldn’t be able to sleep.

  “Hi,” I said to Melissa, hovering in the doorway to her bedroom.

  “Hi,” she said without looking up from her computer.

  “How are you?” I asked awkwardly.

  “Fine. Busy. You okay?”

  “Yeah. I can’t stop thinking about all this TV stuff. Nothing really happened the way they showed it.”

  “It’s just a stupid TV show.” She finally looked up at me. “It amazes me that anyone watches that sort of thing.”

  “You watched it, though?”

  “Just because you were on it. I bet you wish you’d listened to me and stayed at home.”

  I wasn’t sure why she enjoyed being right on this occasion.

  “I’m glad I went,” I told her. “I had fun. Plus, I got a nice watch and a new car.” I held my arm out to show her, but she went back to tapping away on her computer.

  “Doesn’t really seem worth it if you ask me. Anyway, did you want something? I’m kind of busy.”

  “No,” I smiled at her. “Just thought we could chat – but it doesn’t matter. Goodnight.”

  ***

  I slept well but woke feeling groggy and with no desire to get out of bed. Waking up to a morning chat with Chrissie had been much more fun. I wanted to be back in Spain. I’d get up to find Adam waiting outside my door and go down for breakfast and my daily exchange with Maria. My thoughts settled on Adam and my heart ached. I’d just stay in bed forever, I decided.

  I dragged myself up briefly to answer the door, returning to hide under the bed covers when it turned out to be a reporter from a women’s magazine asking for my story. I ignored the doorbell the next few times it rang, but forced myself to answer the home phone when it rang late in the morning.

  “I’m at the door,” Mum told me. “Let me in, will you?”

  “Hi,” I said drearily when she’d come in and closed the door behind her.

  “Hello!” She gave me a big hug. “My daughter – the celebrity! It’s so exciting!”

  “Not really, Mum,” I argued. “I don’t think I really came out looking very good, did I?”

  “Who cares? You’re famous!” She grinned. “Let’s have a cuppa and you can tell me all about it. Kerry’s really worried about you. She said I need to make sure you’re eating properly. And she thinks you should go and stay with them for a while.”

  “You don’t need to talk to Kerry about me,” I told her. When Kerry married my dad, Mum had decided that they should be friends since they were co-parenting. So Mum rings Kerry now and then to talk about me, and Kerry is ridiculously patient about the whole situation.

  “Well, we worry about you,” she told me firmly. “I knew you’d have been straight over to talk to her, and I wanted to know how she thought you were doing.”

  “Are you upset that I went to her, and not you?” I asked. I’d always been close to Kerry, and Mum had never commented on it or seemed to care.

  “No. I’m glad you’ve got Kerry. Considering you’re not blood relations, you’re quite alike. I wasn’t having a dig at you. It’s just the way things are. Anyway, are you eating?”

  “I haven’t eaten today,” I confessed. “I could probably manage some toast.”

  “Okay, go and sit down and I’ll make you something.”

  She joined me in the living room five minutes later and placed a plate of scrambled egg on toast in front of me before returning to bring in two cups of tea.

  “Tell me all about the week, then …” she prompted after I’d eaten. “What really happened?”

  I took a deep breath and launched into my account of the week and the friends I’d made. It was fun telling her all about everyone and everything that had happened, comparing it to the snippets of information she’d got from the media. Apparently the clip of Dylan playing his guitar had been shown, and it had been suggested that he was dark and brooding due to so many knock-backs from the music industry, not because he’d fallen out with his dad. I felt a little better after talking to Mum, and she stayed with me for most of the day.

  I spent Sunday with Dad, Kerry and the boys, which was a welcome distraction, but then I retreated back to the safety of my apartment and wondered what life as a recluse would be like.

  ***

  By Tuesday morning, I was in a fairly dark place. I lay on the couch and ignored the doorbell yet again, preferring to stare at the ceiling and wonder what to do with the rest of my life.

  “Lucy!” a voice called impatiently. Then there was a banging on the door and the bell went again – and again. The press were getting pretty obnoxious. I contemplated calling the police.

  “Lucy! It’s Adam!” The voice came again. My stomach lurched as I jumped up and ran to the door.

  “Hi,” I said cautiously, resisting an almost overwhelming urge to throw myself at him. “Come in, quick,” I told him as reporters snapped away. At least they’d taken up camp at a slightly more respectful distance now. My heart was racing when I closed the front door, leaving us alone in the hallway.

  “You’re a hard one to track down,” he told me as I motioned for him to follow me into the living room. Sitting beside him on the couch, all I could think about was kissing him again. His cool and calm demeanour was at odds with the nervous breakdown which I was trying desperately to keep bottled up inside. “I’ve been trying to call you.”

  “I’ve not switched my mobile on since we got back,” I told him. “How did you get my number, anyway?”

  “Chrissie called me. Matt got in touch with Jessica and bullied her into giving up our phone numbers. The whole gang went over to Dylan’s pub on Sunday and had a little get-together in the back room. I called in and had a quick drink with them. Everyone missed you.”

  “Really? Everyone was together?” Jealousy hit me like a truck. “I couldn’t have come anyway. I’m so embarrassed.”

  “Why?”

  “What do you mean, why?” I asked, turning to face him. “Haven’t you watched it? They made me look like a crazy person.”

  “Yeah.” He looked at me, humour in his eyes. “But it was great TV!”

  “Hey!” I gave him a shove. It felt good to laugh again.

  “I’m joking, I can’t believe they edited everything like that but you can’t sit around here, hiding from the world forever.”

  “Not forever,” I said. “Just for a little while.”

  “You should go to Dylan’s pub tonight,” he said, shifting to the edge of the couch as though getting ready to leave. “I can give you the address. Chrissie gave me strict instructions to find you and get you to come …”

  “Are you going?”

  “Yeah, I think so. I just have to head home first to pick up a few things, I’m on my way now.”

  “Do you live nearby?” I realised that I didn’t know much about
him.

  “No. I’ve got a place out in Havendon.”

  I looked blankly at him.

  “It’s a little village, about an hour’s drive. I stay with Carl when I’m in town. I told you in Majorca, remember? Their garage is converted into a flat, and they let me use it in return for babysitting.”

  “Carl’s got kids?”

  “A little boy, Josh. He’s a cutie.”

  “That’s nice.” I stood up with Adam, and wished he didn’t have to leave so soon.

  “I’d better get off if I want to make it back into town this evening … Here’s the address for the pub and everyone’s numbers.” He handed me a slip of paper and moved towards the door.

  “I’ll see you later, then?” There was a definite hint of desperation in my voice when he reached to open the front door.

  “Yeah.” He hesitated, his hand on the door. “Unless … do you want to come with me? If you don’t have any plans for the day?” He looked vulnerable while he waited for me to reply.

  “Yeah … okay.”

  “It’s not the most exciting of trips, but …”

  “I’d like to come,” I interrupted him.

  “Great.”

  “I just need to jump in the shower quickly.”

  “That’s fine,” he told me, following me back into the apartment.

  “I’ll be quick,” I promised while I backed into the bathroom.

  “Is it okay if I grab a coffee?”

  “Kitchen’s there,” I pointed. “Help yourself.”

  Panic set in as I rinsed the shampoo from my hair. I’d eagerly agreed to spend the day with Adam, but now I was overcome with nerves about spending time alone with him. It was so easy in Spain when he was just always there in the background. It had been such a surreal situation. There was a chance that in the real world we wouldn’t get on at all.

  I also started to panic about what to wear. I considered turning my phone on, to call Chrissie for advice, but I didn’t know how I could pull that off without Adam noticing, since the piece of paper with Chrissie’s number was in the living room. With deep breaths, I attempted to pull myself together. It was just a drive out to the country with Adam. No big deal.

  I realised I’d have to go from the bathroom to my bedroom with just my towel wrapped around me, and hoped that Adam was still in the kitchen so I could make a dash without him seeing me. Of course, he’d seen me in a bikini, but it felt different being alone in my apartment with him.

  I’d almost reached the bedroom when he called my name, walking out of the kitchen with his mobile in his hand. “It’s for you,” he told me. “It’s Chrissie.”

  “Great!” I gripped my towel tighter. “Chrissie! Hi!” I tried to keep my voice casual. “How are you?” I flashed Adam a smile and then moved into my bedroom, closing the door behind me.

  “Where’ve you been?” Chrissie asked. “I tried to call you.”

  “Sorry,” I told her, perching on the edge of my bed. “My phone’s off. Isn’t it crazy what they did with the show? They made me look terrible.”

  “I know; I can’t believe it.”

  I heard a noise in the living room and remembered Adam was waiting for me. “You have perfect timing, by the way. I need your help! Adam’s here …”

  “I know, I just called him!” She laughed at me. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m going to his place with him,” I told her, getting up and opening my wardrobe. “It’s out of town somewhere. I don’t know what to wear!”

  “Oh, wow! Do you think he’s secretly rich and has a massive house in the country?”

  “No! I don’t know! What should I wear?”

  “Hmm. Just go with jeans and a T-shirt or vest top … something tight and preferably low-cut. Go casual.”

  “Okay, I think I can manage that.”

  “Just wear something comfortable but not too geeky.”

  “Got it.” I laughed and started searching for something appropriate. “I’m really nervous. I’ve never been alone with him.”

  “Apart from that one time in the cupboard,” she teased.

  “Apart from that!”

  “You’ll be fine; just relax and have fun. Adam’s a nice guy. And you just spent a week on holiday with him. Don’t freak out about a day out.”

  “You’re right,” I agreed. “I’m being silly.”

  “You’re coming to the pub tonight, aren’t you?” she asked.

  “Yes, I can’t wait to see everyone again. It’s been weird being alone.”

  “I know. I felt completely lost when I got home on Friday.”

  “How’re things with Matt?” I asked.

  “Good. I’ll fill you in tonight. You’d better get on and not keep your date waiting.”

  “It’s not a date,” I protested.

  “Yes, it is.” She laughed. “Have fun!”

  Chapter 27

  I kept my head down as we left, ignoring the shouts from the reporters and ducking quickly into the safety of Adam’s car.

  “Bloody cameras!” Adam quipped as he pulled away, making me smile.

  “How long before they leave me alone?” I asked.

  “Not long, I imagine. They’ll get bored and move on to the next thing pretty quickly. Especially if you don’t speak to them.”

  “No fear of that. Even if I was allowed to talk.”

  “I heard about that,” Adam said. “It’s all a bit weird.”

  “How much did you know about everything?” I asked.

  “Not much,” he told me as he slowed for traffic lights. “I knew that they wanted you to think it was only our cameras, no hidden ones. We were supposed to hang back wherever possible so they could cut us out easily. I didn’t know they planned to edit it to obscurity, though.” He glanced over at me, trying to gauge my reaction. “I had no idea about that.”

  I nodded, believing him.

  “I wasn’t sure you’d even speak to me today,” he went on. “You looked so mad at me on the last day in Spain.”

  “I was,” I said. “I went to look for Maria to say goodbye, and found that room downstairs full of TV monitors, and the two guys zooming in and changing camera angles. It freaked me out.”

  “And that was all my fault?”

  “No. But you were there to trick us and I took it personally for a while.”

  “I was just doing my job. I wanted to tell you but I couldn’t. And honestly, when I heard about the show, I thought I’d be filming a bunch of idiots. I never expected to like any of you.”

  The urge to kiss him came out of nowhere and I looked out of the window to distract myself. “I keep wondering, do you think they’d always planned to edit it like that, or was it because we were a bit boring?”

  “I think they planned it all along.” He smiled at me. “You weren’t that boring.”

  “What about the food poisoning thing? Was that a lie too?”

  “Yeah. They wanted fewer cameramen around, but didn’t want you to get suspicious so they made up a story about them being sick.”

  I paused, trying to get my head around everything. “I still can’t believe I actually agreed to go in the first place. It all feels a bit surreal.”

  “Until you were on the plane, I was convinced you were going to change your mind and refuse to go.”

  “Me too!” We settled into a comfortable silence as we drove away from the city and into the winding roads that meandered through pretty little villages.

  “How did you end up living so far out of town?” I asked as we drove along a narrow road bordered by fields and rolling hills.

  “I grew up in a village, and I never really took to city life. I had a place in the city for a while, but it never really felt like home. My dad had a mild heart attack a few years ago and I moved back for a while, to be around while he recovered. I settled back into village life and didn’t really have any desire to move again. I sold my place in Manchester, and Carl said I could stay with them when I had jobs in town. It worke
d out quite well.”

  “Erm …” I hesitated, not quite sure how to ask the question. “Do you live with your parents?”

  He paused, a smile playing on his lips. “No! God, no! I’m thirty. Did you really think I lived with my parents in the country?”

  “No,” I ventured, embarrassed. “I don’t know! I don’t know anything about you.”

  “Okay,” he said. “We can fix that.”

  “Here we are,” he announced ten minutes later, pulling up in front of a semi-detached house in the middle of a quaint little village. “My house. Where I live alone … without my parents!”

  “Don’t tease me,” I told him, mock seriously. “Are you going to give me the tour?”

  “Yep.” We stepped out of the car and I followed him up the path to the front door.

  “It’s nice,” I told him as we wandered through the living room and into the little kitchen. There was a neat rectangular lawn visible through the back window, surrounded by a wooden fence. It was very cute.

  “It’s nothing special,” he told me. “But I like it.”

  “Chrissie thought you might be rich and have a big house in the country,” I confided.

  “Sadly not,” he said with raised eyebrows. “You want to see the upstairs?”

  “No.” I laughed at his boyish smile.

  “Oh, now you go all coy! Shame I don’t have a little cupboard for you to drag me into!”

  A blush coloured my cheeks and I shifted my weight, feeling awkward as I shook my head, not sure what to say.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” he said as I avoided meeting his gaze.

  “You didn’t,” I lied, and looked around the kitchen. “It’s very clean,” I commented to change the subject. “I didn’t have you down as a neat freak.”

  “Well, I like to keep the place nice,” he told me.

  “Hmm, okay.”

  “What?” he asked with raised eyebrows.

  “I feel like you just lied to me …”

  He made an attempt to look offended, before he sighed and let me in to his secret. “My mum might have a key,” he mumbled.