by Brigid Coady
‘Bestseller status, you know it. Everyone wants a piece of this arse.’ Lewis wiggled in his seat with a mischievous grin.
Annie started laughing again. She could forget about missing money and larcenous family for a while.
***
A few hours later, Annie’s sides ached as she lolled in her seat at the table. Her face hurt from grinning so hard. She couldn’t remember enjoying a night so much in such a long time. With Harry, Lewis, and Austen she could be Annie again, not her father’s daughter or Immy’s sister. She was a functioning member of society who was important because she was Anne Elliot and not just a hanger-on. This was how she felt when she was with Cassie, how she felt on most of her jobs. And how she’d felt when she’d dated Austen.
She was being picked first.
And sitting here now, with Austen … it should’ve been more uncomfortable than it was.
It was as if they had both taken a vow to let bygones be bygones just for one night. That neither of them would think about what she had thrown away and that he had left.
The four of them were in their own bubble. Like a force field around them it kept the rest of the cast and crew from disturbing them. She felt safe. Annie swirled the wine in her glass round, watched it climb up the sides as she listened to Lewis telling a complicated and funny story about being in the studio with some teen idol.
‘… and I kept telling him: “Mate, if you can just get this next take, I can get home to my boy.” After about two hours he still couldn’t pronounce the word “chance”. He kept saying “chonce” and then sort of strangling it, and I was done. Haz was sending me texts saying that everyone was at our place for dinner and they couldn’t start without me. So in the end I wrestled him out of the studio, recorded me singing it, lowered it in post-production, and then let him take the credit for the run that everyone went crazy over. I went home, ate Hazza’s incredible food, hung out with this buffoon.’ He punched Austen’s arm. ‘Sometimes you’ve got to put your wellbeing and personal life over the job.’
Annie’s throat closed up and the wine she was in the midst of swallowing came back up as she coughed.
Not that she had put her job before everything else but she had put her family before it all. Because, let’s face it, her family was her job.
Or had been.
She glanced quickly up at Austen who was staring at her, concerned.
God, she’d missed him.
But down that road went heartbreak.
Chapter Nineteen
There was something wonderfully liberating about being able to skip the queue to a gig and just go straight into a venue. Annie knew she should hate the feeling that she was being more important than the rest of the world but being on the guest list for a Feckless Rogues concert made her heart skip a beat. She was living her dream.
The fact it was pouring with rain made it even sweeter.
‘Is that Austen Wentworth?’ She could hear the whispers of the people in the queue they were passing.
Austen ducked his head slightly to hide. Harry and Lewis flanked him, keeping Harry on the side nearest the queue. Annie felt her heart squeeze for him. This was so different from Dad or Immy or Marie. They would have strutted past the crowd, hoping that someone would recognize them as ‘thingy off the telly’.
But Austen had never wanted to be famous; he just wanted to act.
‘Annie-mation, it isn’t about the fans; it is about doing good work. Challenging yourself to create a character that lives and breathes. Someone who can interpret the classics, make them come alive, make those stories make sense.’
He’d said that to her when they had been building their Hollywood dream. She could still smell the over-ripe banana that had been in the fruit bowl, the chemical lemon scent of his landlady’s furniture polish.
She shivered.
‘Come on, slow coach.’ Lewis reached a hand back and grabbed hers, leading her up the steps of KOKO in Camden.
‘These are Access All Area passes?’ Annie cradled the shiny fabric sticker and laminated pass in her hands like they were holy relics.
‘I pulled a few strings.’ Lewis winked. ‘No point in being in the music business and not using it to my advantage.’
Annie giggled breathlessly. She had an access all areas pass to a Feckless Rogues concert … Her dreams were coming true.
And if she could imagine that the past eight years hadn’t happened and that she was still with Austen, then all her dreams would come true.
She looked up to see Austen watching her.
‘What are you looking forward to seeing the most?’ Austen asked quietly as they were climbing the stairs to their seats at the front of the circle: the VIP area.
‘Swipe Away.’ It came out of her mouth without her thinking about it: her favourite Feckless song. It had been their song.
‘Yeah, that will be good.’ Austen smiled down at her as if every single moment of the time that they had been together was at the front of his mind. Like he was remembering what it had been like when they had danced round his bedroom to that song. Collapsing in giggles and kisses on his bed when his landlady banged on the door to tell him to turn the music down.
Could this be it? Could he really be interested in her? After everything …
She stumbled on the steep stairs and he reached a hand out to grab her.
‘Careful, we don’t need any more accidents.’
His hand lingered on her elbow; she could feel the heat from it through her sleeve. It was the only part of her body she could concentrate on.
Coming out onto the balcony where the VIP area was, Annie smiled. She loved KOKO, with its Chinese red lacquer walls. You could feel that all the music played there had seeped into its foundations; it seemed to vibrate with it even when the sound systems were off.
It was amazing that the Feckless Rogues were playing such a small gig … and she got to see it with Austen.
Annie followed him to the small private bar area and grabbed plastic skiffs, Austen automatically grabbing her a cider and him a lager. It wasn’t as if he was thinking; he was repeating something that had happened frequently at the gigs they’d gone to when they had been together.
‘Thank you,’ Annie said, hiding her blush and smile in the cup as she took a sip.
Maybe … She knew she shouldn’t hope but her heart beat faster anyway.
Austen moved through the cordoned-off VIP seats and chose to sit at the end of the row nearest the stage. Annie realized that it was far enough away from the general public that no one could get to him unless they clambered over about ten people first. Annie sat down next to him.
His shoulder and leg pressed against hers. If she sat as still as possible maybe he wouldn’t move. She soaked in the feeling of him so close; she briefly closed her eyes trying to blank out the crowd around them. The chattering crowd faded into the background, as she concentrated on Austen’s breathing.
‘You okay?’ he asked quietly, his breath by her ear.
She couldn’t help but smile.
‘Never better,’ she replied opening her eyes and seeing his face close. Even in the low light she could see the green of his eyes. But he wasn’t looking into her eyes.
He was looking at her lips.
Suddenly her lips felt dry and she couldn’t stop herself. She licked them.
His eyelashes fluttered.
Was he really going to kiss her out in public? Where there was probably a hundred cameras pointed at them?
‘Well, isn’t this cosy.’ Will appeared at the end of the row.
Annie jumped and Austen moved back slowly.
‘Christ,’ she could hear Austen say under his breath.
‘Annie, darling,’ Will called out and waved his hand. His voice somehow carried even though the venue was filling up. It stood out so much as if to make sure that everyone surrounding them got a good look at who was talking.
‘Crap.’ Annie looked round and realized that if anyone hadn’t spotte
d Austen before they had now. And as she was next to him and Will was heading her way … She wanted the lights to dip and whoever the support act was to come on and take everyone’s eyes off her.
‘Excuse me, coming through,’ Will said as he was making his way through the row behind them.
She heard Lewis swear as Will’s elbow hit his head. She looked round to see Harry scowling at Will’s back, his hand rubbing Lew’s head.
‘Hi, babe,’ Will said as he threw his arms round her neck from behind and placed a very wet kiss on her cheek.
Annie froze.
Will might be family but for thirty-odd years of her life she’d never seen him. And yes, she was thankful he was helping with the Dad and Immy situation, and so hadn’t liked to push him away. But now he was so far over the barriers of what was appropriate and comfortable for her she felt like her skin was itching. Every muscle was locked in a fight not to slam her elbow back into his face.
Do not make a scene, she thought. Think of the family.
‘Hi, Will,’ she said. It was a little choked as her jaw was locked to stop her from yelling.
Her fingers gripped the arms of her chair, pushing into the worn velvet – anything to try and stop herself from clawing at the chokehold he seemed to have round her neck.
That would not be a good look online later.
‘If you’d been answering your phone earlier, I could have told you I was going to offer to pick you up.’ He rubbed his cheek against hers. The slight stubble abrading her skin, she flinched and shut her eyes.
Please, don’t let me throw up on him, she thought as the cider turned acidic in her stomach.
Will eventually let her go, but still left his right hand on her shoulder, the one nearest Austen. He squeezed and kneaded it as if she were recalcitrant bread dough. He started to hold forth in a voice that could carry from one end of KOKO to the other.
‘So how did you score the VIP passes, huh? Of course you, Austen, can get hold of anything can’t you?’ Will’s laugh was not as light as he probably hoped it would be. ‘I pulled in a few favours at Mega, my management company. I wanted to ask you to come with me, Annie, but then I heard you were coming anyway.’ His hand squeezed a little harder and Annie couldn’t help the wince. She’d be bruised if this carried on. ‘You could have told me.’ Annie could hear the pout in his voice.
Annie glanced to the side; Austen was sitting with his face in as much shadow as he could. His jaw was clenched and he’d gone from the relaxed man who had been a whisker from kissing her, maybe, to the stranger he’d been when they’d re-met.
He had been about to kiss her. He had.
Annie wanted to throw her cider over Will.
The lights dimmed, although the chatter didn’t. There was a crash of chords and the opening act leapt on stage.
Annie wanted to say that she enjoyed the opening act. They were an up and coming indie band called Pink Eskimo. The music was good – what she could hear of it.
Will chatted the whole way through their set. Annie knew most people didn’t come for the opener but this was so far into the territory of rude there was nothing she could think to excuse it.
Lewis had been watching and listening to them closely and seemed to be taking notes on his phone and muttering about studio time. Every so often he had thrown dark looks at Will. Annie wondered if she could drop her head back with enough force to truly head-butt him but still make it look like an accident.
Dear God, Will was so like Dad. Annie started to wonder whether he was actually her long-lost brother or whether the Elliot genes usually bred true and she was actually the family changeling.
She didn’t think Will took a breath during the break between acts. Any minute now her favourite band in the world was due to come on stage and if he talked all the way through it she wouldn’t be responsible for her actions. She surreptitiously stretched her neck to ready the ‘accidental headbutt’.
And this was the person Cassie thought she fancied? The one Auntie Lil wanted her to be with?
That could be taking family loyalty a step too far.
‘Don’t you think so?’ Will gripped her and shook her to get her attention, as if she could ignore him.
‘Hmmm.’ She hoped that would shut him up.
‘For God’s sake,’ Austen muttered.
Annie’s leg felt suddenly cold as Austen got up from his seat. She watched as he moved to the end of the row and then out. He stood in the shadows from the box that loomed over their heads.
No, he couldn’t go.
‘Hey, you okay?’ Lewis asked as he leaned across Annie.
Please, don’t let him go.
Annie wanted to reach out and stop him.
Austen was supposed to be beside her when they played ‘Swipe Away’. He was supposed to sing the words of their song along with her and then he would realize that he still loved her. He would turn to her exactly as had happened only an hour ago. He’d look down and this time there wouldn’t be any interruption. Annie licked her lips again. She could almost taste him.
‘Hey, I think I’m going to go downstairs, Lew. Take the risk with the masses. Feel the experience, really hear the music.’ He sounded sad. ‘It’s all I really came for.’
‘Don’t go.’ Annie reached a hand out, not quite reaching his arm to stop him. She couldn’t grasp on to his forearm like everyone else. He needed to pick her. She didn’t have the guts to tell him that she would pick him, if he’d just ask.
Let him choose me, she thought, let him ask.
‘I can’t stay, Anne. I’ll go downstairs.’
Her hand shook as if slapped but she kept it where it was. She felt reckless, strong. Maybe she did have the guts.
Austen moved into the light and stared at her with sad eyes.
‘I could come with you,’ she gasped out, wondering if he’d hear it over the music.
Pick me. She tried to think it into his brain, for him to understand. She could feel the dream of the kiss that had been in the making tattering at the edges.
‘But it wouldn’t just be you coming,’ Austen said, and Annie knew he meant more than Will.
For a moment he stared at her, and then turned his back on her, started up the small slope, towards the back, and pulled himself over the barrier.
He couldn’t even bring himself to push past them to the aisle.
She had to follow him. She had to.
He hadn’t gone too far, she thought as she made to get up. She was half out of her seat when the house lights dipped and the crowd roared.
‘Hey, so you need to stay and tell me which are your favourite Feckless songs,’ Will said as he clambered over the seats and sat in Austen’s seat, trapping Annie from following.
Instead of watching Liam, the lead singer of Feckless Rogues, in the spotlight playing the opening chords of ‘Roulette’, Annie had her back to the stage as she watched Austen push through one of the exits and disappear.
Annie looked at the crowded doorway, wishing for Austen to come back. Hoping he’d change his mind and walk back in. All she saw was the red lacquered walls of KOKO. They looked like they were crying, the sweat and condensation from a thousand bodies throwing themselves around dripped down the wall. The surging beat of drums and bass bounced off them and into Annie’s chest. Slowly she turned back to the stage.
A few hundred people had their hands pointing into the air as they sang back the words from the stage.
‘Drowning myself in words and music
Anything to keep the memories at bay
Until one song comes sneaking through
Russian roulette every time I press play’
Annie felt the words hit her in the chest like a bullet. If her heart hadn’t been dust before, it was now.
Chapter Twenty
What the actual fuck?
Annie groped for her phone, which was ringing right by her ear.
It was arse o’clock in the morning, well five-thirty. Who the hell was calling her
at this hour? They hadn’t got back to the hotel till after one, having gone briefly backstage to meet the band.
Crap, it was Eric Cowell. What did he want? Hopefully he had his time zones confused.
‘Hello, Eric,’ she croaked, lying back against the pillows.
‘You’ve been having a busy time, haven’t you, Annie?’ His north London accent with a twang of America was loud in her ear.
‘Yes?’ Of course she was busy. She was trying to keep the production from running off the rails but why was he calling her now to discuss it?
‘I didn’t know that the Northanger Agency also dealt with publicity. You really are an all-round, hands-on agency aren’t you …’
Publicity? Hands-on?
The tone of Eric’s voice was … well salacious is the only way Annie could think to describe it. But maybe her ears weren’t really at their best after last night’s gig.
‘Hands-on?’
‘Well, I’m looking at all these photos of you with Will Elliot and Austen Wentworth … and it all looks cosy. I mean I don’t care what you get up to in your own time and it is great publicity …’
His voice went up at the end as if waiting for Annie to confess all.
‘But …’ She stopped. How come there were photos?
‘Hold on, Eric, where are these photos?’ she asked.
‘All over the internet, Annie love. Loads of speculation – I mean I know the Wentworth angle is a bit far-fetched, all fantasy there. But young Will Elliot, I mean if you want to keep it all in the family that’s your choice. It’s just some of us think that the story should be about the actors and not the production team.’
It was too early.
‘Maybe this issue with the budget spend is because you’ve been a little distracted,’ Eric continued. ‘I mean it is a new job you’re doing and we have high hopes. Really high Hollywood hopes. You don’t want to get distracted now, do you?’
Annie sat bolt upright. The ringing in her ears less from the music last night and more from Eric’s implication.
That was definitely a warning.
