by Ruby Loren
I reached out and grabbed Auryn’s hand and together we fought our way through the crowd. We didn’t get far before Leona was somehow in front of us and managed to pull Auryn away from me.
“Can you believe this guy is the owner of the zoo Monday’s Menagerie is based on? He looks like he’s got a career in modelling ahead of him before he settles down to the serious work. You’re gonna break the internet with a face like yours,” she told my fiancé, leaning in and flashing her white teeth. Cameras went wild and the room was filled with flashing.
“Just like a vulture,” I heard and turned to see Ben standing next to me, although not addressing me directly. His eyes were fixed on Leona and Auryn and his fists were rolled into balls by his sides. It didn’t take a genius to see he wasn’t happy, and neither was I.
Especially as I’d just figured out this whole thing was a set up.
When the press had first arrived, I’d assumed it was Colin’s doing. He’d clearly managed to find out about the dinner, as proved by his wall-scaling antics, but as soon as he’d run in, asking people to direct their requests and enquiries to him, I’d realised he was just taking the opportunity. Colin didn’t strike me as someone who was organised at the best of times, but then, if he’d organised the press, he surely wouldn’t have needed to announce himself and could have come in through the door with the rest of the rabble, as opposed to crawling up the wall. Although, I still didn’t have a reasonable explanation as to why he’d done that…
What I did know was that Skye had been texting under the table. I already knew that Leona used her to set things up, and I wouldn’t be surprised if that text had been tipping off the local press as to our location and what they’d need to say to get in.
What I did know for sure was that I was fed up with all of this nonsense. I marched in front of the cameras and seized Auryn’s hand back from Leona, not caring what sort of photos would be taken of the moment, or what the press might say.
Auryn squeezed my hand right back, but the paparazzi were blocking our way.
“I would be happy to arrange interviews and photos. There’s no need to fight!” Colin’s voice floated over the throng. I turned slightly and discovered he was standing on the table itself.
“I really think you might need to reconsider your choice of publishing company!” Auryn said out of the corner of his mouth.
“I’m starting to think that myself.”
Colin made a sudden ‘whoops!’ noise as he presumably trod on a discarded piece of shellfish shell and slipped, his legs flying comically in the air. The table turned out to be a fold-up one, dressed for the occasion, and certainly hadn’t been built to hold the weight of a rather gangly man - especially when he fell on it. The legs at one end collapsed and I could only watch as the giant dish of now-cooled paella sitting on the other end had its contents launched into the air. There were cries of disgust from the documentary team standing closest to the table as rice, chicken, squid, mussels, and prawns rained down on them from above. The army of cameras surged past us, desperate to catch photos of this new interesting development, which included Ben Ravenwood, brushing yellow rice out of his perfectly tousled hair and not looking at all adventurous for once. I decided to save my smirk for later and instead took the opportunity to beat a hasty retreat from the disastrous dinner.
The last thing we heard before slipping out of the double doors was the sound of Colin apologising over and over again in-between offering interviews and photo shoots.
Once we were several streets away, we slowed down a little. To my surprise, laughter bubbled up inside of me and Auryn joined in a moment later. I felt like a kid who’d skipped a class they hated at school and was enjoying the time off, rather than worrying about the consequences.
When we’d finished laughing we looked at each other for a long beat.
“Shall we get a takeaway?” Auryn asked.
“Heck yes,” I said, smiling at him and suddenly feeling like we were on holiday again. Nothing needed to be said about what had just happened. We both knew where we stood. “What do you fancy?”
A lopsided grin danced on Auryn’s lips. “Anything but paella.”
A knock on the sliding door the next morning was not the most welcome of awakenings. My first thought was that the press had found us, as our location certainly seemed to be getting about. Tiff had told Darius, then Colin had figured it out and Ben had appeared on the beach. Who knew who else they’d told - especially when one of them thought I could do with all of the publicity I could get?
I will definitely get him fired if it’s the press! I silently promised myself, already feeling annoyed.
I stuck my head out of the bedroom while Auryn continued sleeping, uncharacteristically late for him. Perhaps I’d overdone the amount of ‘holiday alcohol’ I’d mixed in with our customary hot chocolates last night to make them a little more grown up.
“What now?” I muttered as I recognised the man standing outside of the sliding glass doors. I looked down at my pyjamas and decided they were passably decent, considering they were basically a t-shirt and shorts combination. The t-shirt was actually an old event one for Avery Zoo and had the zoo’s name and logo emblazoned on it. Perhaps it was petty, but I kind of liked the idea of showing my affiliation after all Ben had said.
I slid open the door and felt the warm early morning breeze on my face. Ben’s tanned, handsome face seemed to inspect mine for… something… before he spoke.
“Sorry about last night. I have no idea why the press turned up,” he said, looking apologetic.
I crossed my arms and raised my eyebrows. “Really? You really have no idea at all?”
Ben looked deeply uncomfortable for a moment, and I mentally gave myself a point in my favour. I’d been right to think it had been set up deliberately.
“Look, Leona’s been acting strangely lately. It’s really out of character for her to behave like this. You’re right though, I think she may have had something to do with the press coming.” He sighed. “I sometimes forget, she’s actually pretty new to the TV presenting game. When she first arrived on the scene, she was the press’ darling. Now I think she’s worried that she’s losing her shine. I’m afraid your own success might have been too tempting to ignore for her.”
I leant against the door frame and looked past Ben at the empty beach. It must be too early for his fans and followers to be out and about this morning. “She didn’t seem that interested in having photos taken with me,” I pointed out, and then regretted it when I glanced back at Ben and caught the tail end of the look on his face.
“I don’t know what’s happening with her. Stuff like last night makes me think it’s the pressures of success changing her. It can happen to anyone.” He looked at me when he said it, but I let the implied slight roll off me. I knew who I was and didn’t desire any fame or recognition. Quite the opposite, in fact.
Ben turned away and sat down on one of the white plastic chairs outside our villa. I followed him out and sat down on the other one.
“I’m really worried about Leona,” he confided. “It’s more than just this weird obsession with the press. She used to be so sweet and now she’s developed this really bad attitude. You saw yesterday when she decided it was too hot to work.” He shook his head. “This is a cakewalk compared to some of the places you get sent in this line of work. I’m starting to think she’s unwell.” His eyes looked sideways at me when he said that. “She looks kind of sickly, and at times, I get the impression she’s in a lot of pain.”
“You think it might be drugs?” I asked, reading between the lines.
“I don’t know. I don’t think so.” He frowned. “We’re just wildlife presenters, not rockstars. People hardly come around with platters of illicit substances. The worst I’ve ever seen is people in the job who drink too much. No matter where you go, there’s always some kind of alcohol you can get your hands on. But Leona doesn’t drink at all. She’s really strict on that.”
�
�I don’t know what to say,” I said, wondering why Ben was telling me all of this. I really didn’t know the actress and couldn’t offer any advice. “Have you asked Skye about any of this? She seems close to Leona…”
“Too close. She tells Leona everything. The producers aren’t happy with Leona. If she carries on being difficult, she might lose her job. Even if you’re popular, you don’t get to call the shots. If you make life hard for people, you can be cut in an instant. There are hundreds of people who would love to fill your shoes.” It might have been my imagination, but he looked thoughtfully at me for a moment before turning back to look out at the sea. “I just want to help her with whatever she’s going through, but it feels like she’s pushing me away.”
“It sounds like she is going through something, but if she doesn’t want to tell you what it is, you shouldn’t try to push her. All I can say is be there for her, even if it’s just in the background. Just let her know you’re there, and she’ll come to you when she’s ready,” I said, surprised by how sure of myself I sounded. But then, I had experience of this! I’d spent a heck of a lot of time pushing Auryn away and yet, he’d stayed there for me, and we’d got our happy ending.
Ben looked a little more cheerful. “Thanks. You know, we hooked up pretty much immediately after we started working together, but then I realised - strange though it sounds - I wasn’t so much attracted to her as wanting to look after her. I know she’s older than me, but there’s just something about her that made me want to take her under my wing. I misread my feelings and when I explained that to her yesterday, she was… well, less than happy. Now things are complicated and I’m not sure if it’s all my fault or something else.” His golden hazel eyes met mine. “I know she behaved inappropriately last night with your partner. I think it might have been to make me jealous, or perhaps because she thinks…” he trailed off, still looking at me. I turned back to face the sea. I was not going to be drawn into a conversation like this.
“Will you still do the interview?” Ben asked, abruptly changing the subject.
“I’m not sure. I still don’t think I’m the right person to interview you. I’m hardly relevant to the documentary. It will be pretty obvious to anyone watching that I was thrown into the mix to add quirkiness or publicity, or whatever.” I wasn’t very slick with all of this media circus stuff and I didn’t actually want to be.
“Maybe it should wait for another documentary. Or, I have an idea! We could record something for the internet. It doesn’t have to be about anything to do with marine life, it could be about anything you want. I bet both of our agents will love it.”
“That might be a better idea,” I conceded.
“Was it your publicist who catapulted the paella everywhere yesterday?” Ben asked, frowning at the memory.
“Mmm hmm,” I said, letting my expression do the talking.
“He seems like he has a good heart. He helped the waiting staff clear up and offered to pay for the food.”
“He did?”
“Kind of. He offered to pay the restaurant by way of publicity, claiming you would endorse their paella as the best on the island and draw a couple of original sketches for them with your cat character, Lucky, eating paella.”
I blew hot air out of my nostrils. “Of all the stupid…” I realised Ben was grinning.
“Just kidding,” he said.
“He climbed up the side of the restaurant to get in last night. Nothing would surprise me anymore.” I thought about it. “I think it’s time I gave my publisher a call.” I still believed that Colin meant well, but I could also see that he was quite clearly loopy.
“That’ll be headline news if you switch publishers again. You’re sure you’re not a fame chaser?” Ben’s mouth lifted at one corner. “Another joke,” he said, leaning over and resting a hand on my shoulder. “Not everything has to be so serious.” And with that cryptic comment, he stood up from his chair. “I’ve gotta run. See you on set later? I promise I will pull some strings and get Ross to film whatever you want us to film - even if he ends up using his mobile phone to do it. “Then you can get back to your holiday and avoiding the limelight.” Something about his grin made me think he still didn’t believe I actually did want to avoid it, but I wasn’t going to get into another debate with Ben Ravenwood.
“It gets done today,” I affirmed.
“I swear nothing will get in the way, not even if dolphins crawled out of the sea and attacked us all with switchblades.”
He was wrong. Armed dolphins didn’t attack, but our interview wasn’t going to be filmed today, or anytime soon… and neither was anything else.
6
Made-up for Murder
Things were as busy as ever when I arrived at the marine park. Auryn had decided to spend the day renting various water sport items - something I was less keen on, as given away by the fact I thought of them as ‘water sport items’. Even so, I was hoping that this vague and general interview in which I would definitely not get into a controversial argument with Ben Ravenwood, beloved wildlife presenter, would be over and done with quickly. Then I could finally kiss goodbye to The Big Blue Marine Park and try to focus on the holiday and talking about our plans for the future.
“I’ve been told to drag you into makeup.” Bryony, the fixer I’d met yesterday, popped up seemingly from nowhere and shepherded me towards a gazebo.
“This is for the interview?” I asked, slightly unnerved by the idea of having someone else do my makeup.
“Yup. You wouldn’t believe what a fright people look on camera without makeup. Normal people don’t often get this kind of courtesy - just the presenters, but because you’re doing an official interview you get the star treatment. Lucky you,” Bryony finished but I could tell she was laughing on the other side of her face.
“Lucky me,” I repeated dubiously.
Fortunately, the makeup artist himself was a lot more reassuring than the hardened fixer had been. Dominic chatted away about my skin, which was apparently very clear with stunning freckles, and then listed all kinds of colours he thought would work well to accent my eyes. I appreciated the cheerful chatter but felt it slide in one ear and straight out the other. It would be pointless to pretend I was going to start layering on the makeup anytime soon.
“You’re a natural beauty, you know,” Dominic prattled on, as he moved my face around as he pleased. I tried to look pleased by his pronouncement but I strongly suspected that being nice was part of his job.
Whilst Dominic continued chatting away, I watched the comings and goings of the documentary staff - through the blur of my un-spectacled gaze. It was actually kind of fun trying to guess who was who with my less than perfect eyesight. The cameraman, Gina, and one of the producers walked by in deep discussion. I noticed one of them fling their arms in the air and glance towards Leona’s caravan, where someone I thought might be the other producer was walking back across the plaza with a drink tray in his hand. I saw him look back over his shoulder and heard his laugh before he seemed to throw a salute in the direction of the other producer and director. A brief kerfuffle by the food-stand was averted by the young lady I’d seen setting things out. A couple of the reproduction actors were squabbling over the last iced doughnut. I spared a thought to wonder if the long-suffering woman also did the cooking. She managed to rustle up another doughnut and then went back to filling up drinks and smiling at anyone who went near. I did not envy her job!
“You’re all done, sweetie. I haven’t seen Mr Ravenwood today, so he’ll have to come in and let me work my magic, too. I was told he’d be here soon, so I guess you’d better wait nearby. What do you think?” He held up a mirror and I put my glasses back on, only to be presented with an alternative version of myself. I looked at her with her flawless, glowing skin, large eyes, and even neatly styled hair - well, as much as was possible. Then I let her go.
“Thanks very much,” I said. By the disappointment on Dominic’s face, that wasn’t the right response, but I
’d already known I wasn’t a makeup girl.
Although I knew they were fresh out of doughnuts, I walked over to the food stand for something to do and, heck - some free food. I wasn’t going to fight anyone over it, but if it was there for the taking…
“Hey, can I get you anything?” The woman in the striped uniform asked and then did a double take. “Oh my gosh, you’re Madigan Amos! I love your comic. Sorry, I didn’t recognise you for a moment.”
“I don’t really wear makeup,” I confided.
“Well, it looks great! You look amazing,” the other woman said. “I’m Aimee, not that you’ll care about that, or anything.”
I stuck my hand out and she took it, wonderingly. “It’s lovely to meet you, Aimee.” Okay, so I was laying it on a bit thick, but if catering really did mean that people took you for granted, I was going to make a point to not be like the usual crowd.
“Help yourself to anything, and if there’s anything else you want, I can totally get it for you,” she said, her smile stretched wide across her face. I assumed that was part of her job description, too. Ye-ouch!
“How long have you been doing this?” I asked, gesturing to the spread of pastries and breakfast inspired foods.
“Oh, it’s just a part-time thing. I came out to Mallorca for a little break to get away from, you know - life.” She shrugged. “Then, like, out of the blue I saw an advert for an English speaking food server to work full-time while a documentary was being filmed and applied. I guess I got a little starstruck.” She shot me a rueful smile. “Everyone around here seems to be the same. It’s like they’re all climbing up to get to the top, hoping someone will notice them.” She picked a bag up from under the table and opened it up. “Doughnut?”
I looked in at the beautiful selection of cream filled, iced beauties. Aimee must have seen my surprise because she smiled again. “They were fighting over what was essentially a Belgian bun with a hole in the middle. I’m not supposed to, but I always keep a few things back for the people who are actually nice to me.”
