The Rapunzel Dilemma

by Jennifer Kloester

  It wasn’t true! Philip would never have offered the Academy money just to get her an audition. Sure, he’d known how desperately she wanted another chance, but he’d also known how determined she’d been to do it on her own. And she had . . . almost.

  It wasn’t as if her dad even wanted her to go to the Academy. If he hadn’t promised at the Versailles Ball . . . but he’d been so happy that night he’d have agreed to practically anything.

  But that didn’t mean he’d do anything.

  Charlotte was wrong about the money – Lily was sure of it – but it didn’t stop her accusation resounding in Lily’s head.

  She rounded a corner and saw the stage door at the end of the corridor. There was no one in the doorkeeper’s office so she shot the bolt, opened the door and found herself at the top of a short wooden staircase leading down to a narrow laneway.

  The cold air was both a shock and a relief and Lily let it flow across her body for a cooling moment before wrapping her coat firmly around her. She could hear the hum of traffic at the far end of the lane and see a red double-decker bus trundling slowly down Euston Road.

  She could probably walk to Berkeley Square from here, except that she’d promised Lady Langham she wouldn’t walk the streets alone or even ride on public transport unless she was with someone. As long as she was in their care, Nick’s mother had explained, she needed to know Lily was safe.

  Clearly Lady Langham was unaware of the perils of the London Drama Academy, thought Lily, and felt a sudden wave of resentment wash over her.

  Okay, so she hadn’t expected anyone to roll out the red carpet for her, but she had hoped that if she blitzed her audition and got in, everyone would accept the judges’ decision and give her a second chance.

  Except she hadn’t blitzed her audition and people were apparently much less forgiving than she’d thought.

  Lily kicked a lone pebble off the top step, sat down and tried to imagine attending classes with Charlotte and Gemma. And it wouldn’t be only classes. In the unlikely chance she got accepted, she’d be living at the Academy for the next three years. What if she ended up sharing a room with one of them?

  It was an awful thought. But nowhere near as awful as not getting into the Academy. Lily was sure she could put up with anything if it meant training under someone like Arathula Dane.

  She pulled her knees to her chest, put her chin on her hands, and looked wistfully towards Euston Road. It was only a short walk to Regent’s Park, where she and Brett used to spend their lunchtimes rehearsing their lines.

  She sighed. Summer school had been so amazing, and she’d really thought she and Brett had had something special . . .

  But there was no point thinking about him. Last she’d heard, Brett Eastman was in Hollywood with Gina DiMarco, where they’d each got a small part in some new vampire movie.

  At least that meant he wouldn’t be coming back to the Academy. If by some miracle she got in, it’d definitely be easier if Brett wasn’t there. Although easier probably wasn’t the right word if what Gemma had said about people hating her were true.

  Lily let out a breath and watched it condense into a tiny cloud. She really needed to stop thinking about that. She stood up and picked up her duffel bag. Maybe the taxi rank was on Euston Road. It wouldn’t hurt to check it out.

  She was on the middle step when a lone figure suddenly appeared at the other end of the laneway. He was running fast, with a kind of effortless grace that reminded Lily of a cat. As he drew nearer she could see the outline of hard muscles through his tight-fitting black jeans and T-shirt. He wore a black leather biker jacket with a faded red insignia, and kept glancing behind him as he ran.

  Lily wondered what he was running from. She’d just decided to go back inside when he turned his head and saw her.

  His long strides shortened to a jog; he crossed the lane and came to a stop beside the wooden balustrade. He looked about eighteen and was tall enough that from Lily’s position on the centre step they were almost face-to-face.

  It was a memorable face, decided Lily, with its square jaw and aquiline nose that looked as if it had been broken and left to repair itself. A half-moon scar on his cheek gleamed faintly white against his olive skin and she wondered if he’d been in a fight. He had a wide, full mouth and long ebony hair that reached past his collar; his heavy black fringe looked like it had been cut with a pair of rusty scissors.

  But it was his eyes that held her gaze. They were deep green with gold flecks around the pupils and thick black lashes that curled up towards a pair of arched black eyebrows.

  There was something about the way he looked at her, and Lily felt her skin prickle. She glanced over her shoulder at the stage door. It was still slightly ajar. She could be up the steps and inside in a couple of seconds.

  As if he’d read her thoughts, the boy said, ‘Don’t worry, I don’t bite.’

  ‘I’m not worried,’ retorted Lily, staring at him and thinking how extraordinary his eyes were. ‘I’m sure you’re perfectly harmless.’

  The boy laughed, a rich, throaty sound that stirred something inside her. ‘I wouldn’t say that,’ he replied, and to Lily’s dismay he swung round the balustrade and put his foot on the bottom step. He looked up at her. ‘I could use a drink,’ he said. ‘What say we go in there?’ He nodded towards the stage door.

  ‘You can’t go in there. It – it’s restricted.’

  ‘Sounds like my kind of place.’ He bounded up the steps, reached forward and grasped the door handle. ‘Coming?’ he asked.

  ‘Of course I’m not coming. I don’t even know you!’

  ‘True,’ he leaned towards her, ‘but isn’t that half the fun?’ His eyes flashed green fire. ‘Who knows what might happen?’

  He was so close, Lily could smell the leather of his jacket and the scent of soap and sweat and something that was tantalisingly familiar. A vision of her dad playing polo flashed through her mind, but before she could work out the connection, the boy had pulled open the door.

  ‘You can’t go in there!’ Lily cried. ‘You’ll get us both into trouble.’

  He grinned wickedly. ‘Sounds like fun.’

  For a split second, she actually considered taking him inside and introducing him to Charlotte and the others. The long hair, the scar and the biker jacket, coupled with his obvious disregard for rules, ought to be enough to send those three screaming to the Director’s office for help.

  It was a tempting vision. But the last thing Lily needed right now was trouble and this boy was Trouble with a capital T.

  ‘You can’t just go wherever you want,’ she began.

  ‘Watch me.’ He stepped through the door and pulled it towards him.

  ‘Hey, wait –’ cried Lily.

  But the door had already closed. Lily stared at it for an outraged moment and then reached for the handle.

  Before she could touch it, the door suddenly opened. ‘By the way, if a guy on a motorbike comes by asking for me, tell him you haven’t seen me, okay?’

  ‘No, it’s not okay,’ retorted Lily. ‘For all I know, you could be a deranged fan, or – or a crackhead or an axe-wielding psychopathic murderer. I should probably report you to the police!’

  The door opened a little wider and she saw his eyes gleam in the half-light. ‘It’s true, I might be all those things. But if you get the police, you’ll never know, will you?’

  He pulled the door shut and this time Lily heard the bolt shoot into place.

  ‘Fine,’ she fumed. ‘Have it your way.’ She ran down the stairs and headed for Euston Road. She’d only taken a dozen steps when the roar of an engine made her turn.

  From the far end of the lane came a gleaming black motorbike. Its rider wore a black leather jacket and a dark-visored helmet concealing his eyes. To Lily’s dismay the bike slowed, then came to a complete stop beside her.

  The sound of the engine was deafening and Lily saw, rather than heard, the biker call to her.

  She shrugged to in
dicate she hadn’t understood and had turned away when he suddenly cut the engine and yelled, ‘Oi, sweetheart.’

  Lily looked over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you talking to me?’

  The biker pulled off his helmet to get a better look at her. ‘Well, I don’t see no one else standin’ there, so I s’pose I must be.’

  Lily said nothing. Her heart drummed in her chest as he looked her up and down. His face was pockmarked with acne scars and he was younger than she’d expected, maybe nineteen or twenty, with a buzz cut and a red-and-green snake tattoo encircling his neck that made him look like an extra from a Die Hard movie.

  ‘You seen a fella run down here?’ the biker asked.

  ‘A fellow?’ echoed Lily.

  ‘Yeah, a tall git with black hair, wearing a jacket like this.’ He tapped the red insignia on his breast with a grease-stained forefinger. ‘He’s a friend of mine.’

  She hesitated. This was the moment to tell him where the annoying boy had gone. She didn’t even have to say anything. All she had to do was nod towards the stage door.

  Instead, Lily found herself meeting the biker’s gaze. She opened her eyes wide, raised both hands to her face and said breathlessly, ‘Oh, I did wonder – when he ran past so quickly – he was out of breath – and he looked so dark and – and – menacing, that I felt sure he must be a bag-snatcher or a drug dealer or –’

  ‘Which way did he go?’ demanded the biker, cutting her off in the middle of what she felt was a pretty good performance.

  ‘Down there,’ she replied, pointing towards the main street. ‘He went left,’ she added helpfully, ‘but he was running pretty fast, so I don’t suppose you’ll catch him now.’

  ‘Don’t bet on it,’ said the biker, pulling on his helmet and starting his bike with a roar. ‘Thanks, sweetheart.’ He waved his hand and a moment later he’d disappeared into Euston Road.

  ‘Sweetheart!’ repeated Lily disgustedly. ‘Ugh, men!’ She waited for a moment until she was sure the biker had gone, then ran back to the stage door and banged on it with her fist. ‘Okay,’ she called, ‘he’s gone, so you can come out now.’

  She heard the sound of the bolt being drawn and stood back as the door swung open.

  ‘Right,’ she said. ‘Now, I want to know who you are and what the heck is going on.’

  A figure stepped out and looked at her with a puzzled expression. ‘I’m Saunders, the stage-door keeper, and nothing’s going on that I know of.’ He eyed her suspiciously. ‘Who are you to be asking?’

  ‘I – I’m Lily de Tourney. I just auditioned,’ said Lily feebly, trying to peer past him to see if there was any sign of the green-eyed stranger who’d somehow managed to get her to lie for him.

  Saunders turned and glanced back at the empty hallway for a moment. ‘Looking for someone?’ he asked.

  ‘No,’ said Lily. ‘No, of course not. It’s just that – I was meant to get a taxi but I took a wrong turn.’

  ‘Taxi rank’s round t’other side of the building, Miss,’ said the old man. ‘It’ll be quicker if you come back inside.’ He held the door wide and waved her in.

  Lily entered meekly.

  ‘I can call one of the young ladies to show you where to wait, if you like,’ offered the doorkeeper.

  ‘No!’ cried Lily.

  Saunders stared and she felt herself blushing.

  ‘No, thanks,’ repeated Lily as calmly as she could. ‘It’s okay. I know the way.’

  He looked at her curiously. ‘All right, Miss. If you’re sure?’

  ‘I’m positive,’ said Lily. ‘I’ll be fine on my own.’

  CHAPTER 5

  There was no sign of the boy anywhere inside. Lily looked for him as she made her way through the Academy and out into the street, where her taxi was waiting for her.

  As she climbed in, she heard the sudden roar of a motorbike. She snapped her head round, but it was only a pizza delivery guy revving his engine.

  As the taxi trundled its way back to Mayfair, Lily wondered what the boy had been running from. Despite the tattooed biker’s claim to friendship, it was obvious the boy hadn’t wanted to meet him.

  The insignia on their leather jackets suggested they were members of the same gang, so maybe he’d done something to make the biker angry (he had been annoying) and now snake-tattoo guy was after him. If that were true then it was probably a good thing the stage door had been open.

  Maybe if he hadn’t hidden inside the Academy there might’ve been a fight or even a gun battle and he could have been shot . . .

  And maybe I’m going mental, thought Lily, banishing from her mind the vision of her cradling his wounded body in her arms. What was she thinking? Making up stupid stories about a guy she didn’t know and would certainly never see again.

  Lily stared out the cab window at the busy London shops and felt her heart miss a beat as a tall figure in a black leather jacket and black jeans suddenly darted across the road between two trucks. She craned her head to see if it was the boy from the alley, but she was too late: by the time the trucks had moved, he was gone.

  After that, she spent the rest of the journey counting the number of people wearing black jeans and leather jackets. There were far more than she’d have thought possible, but none of them was the green-eyed boy with the long black hair and the wicked smile.

  When Lily’s taxi finally pulled up outside the house in Berkeley Square, Nick’s mother was just opening the front door.

  ‘Hello Lily,’ she said as Lily paid the driver and ran up the front steps to join her. ‘I thought you’d be here long before me.’ Lady Langham ushered her into the house. ‘Was the traffic bad?’

  ‘Awful.’

  ‘How was your audition?’

  ‘Okay,’ replied Lily, then, seeing the concerned look on her hostess’s face, she smiled her much-practised summer smile and added brightly, ‘Fine. I think it went fine.’

  ‘And will they let you know this coming week?’

  ‘This weekend,’ said Lily.

  ‘That’s exciting,’ said Lady Langham. ‘I suppose they’ll call Elena?’

  Lily shook her head, ‘Grandmama’s out of town so the secretary said they’d call here.’ She looked at her anxiously. ‘I hope that’s okay?’

  Lady Langham nodded, ‘Of course.’ She took Lily’s hand and patted it reassuringly. ‘Don’t worry, I’m sure the answer will be yes. I’ll tell Charles he’s to sit by the phone and let you know the moment it rings.’

  ‘Please don’t,’ protested Lily. ‘I’m sure Lord Langham is much too busy –’

  Lady Langham’s eyes twinkled. ‘Uncle Charles will be delighted to have an excuse to spend the weekend in his study. It’s the US Open and he’s a big tennis fan.’

  Lily smiled. ‘Okay.’

  ‘Are you hungry?’ asked her hostess as they took off their coats.

  ‘Not really. If it’s okay, I thought I’d go upstairs.’ Lily made a face. ‘Dad made me promise I’d write him at least one real letter. He even bought me a Visconti fountain pen as a bribe.’

  Lady Langham laughed. ‘I’m sure he’ll be pleased to hear from you. Shall I call you when dinner’s ready?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  Up in the guestroom, Lily threw her coat on the floor and dropped onto the bed. She pulled her pillows into a pile behind her and picked up the gold pen that had been Philip’s farewell gift. ‘I know you prefer texting and email,’ he’d said as he’d kissed her goodbye, ‘but I want something with a little bit of you in it – a real letter with stamps on it waiting for us when we finally make port in Bora Bora.’

  Lily unscrewed the lid and stared at the gold nib. It really deserved to be used for something better than a dreary letter about how she’d failed her audition.

  An image of the boy in the laneway flashed into her head and for an insane moment Lily thought of writing about him.

  Yeah, ’cause that’d be a good idea . . .

  She could just imagi
ne what would happen if she wrote to her dad about how a reckless, long-haired biker boy had invited her to go with him on some (probably) illegal jaunt – Philip would be on the next plane back to London to rescue her.

  At least he’d be listening . . . Lily pushed the ugly thought away and put down her pen. Maybe she should email Angel first. She picked up her laptop.

  Hey Angel,

  So I did my audition, but I’m pretty sure I blew it! I totally forgot my second speech and Arathula Dane had to prompt me. It was super-stressful, but at least I got to see her up close. I could hardly believe it when I saw she was one of the three judges!!! Anyway, I expect I’ll be back in Paris on Monday. The Director’s going to call Nick’s parents over the weekend with the verdict.

  At least Dad will be happy if I don’t get in. It was a miracle he agreed to let me audition in the first place.

  How are things at Vidal’s? Is the summer collection ready? Can you send some photos? I’d love to see what you’ve been doing.

  One good thing about being back in Paris is that there’s no way I can do that stupid Debutante Club Grandmama was so keen on.

  Anyway, call or email or text me when you can.

  Miss you.

  Lily xx

  Lily hit Send, stood up and crossed to the window.

  Outside, the late afternoon sun lit the leaves of the trees in Berkeley Square and she could already see a touch of autumn where they’d begun turning gold. Summer was over and Lily suddenly felt as if all her hopes had faded with the season.

  If only she could talk to Angel properly and tell her what she was really feeling. They’d always worked out their problems together – but how did you tell your best friend that she was part of the problem? Lily thought of Angel and how happy she’d been all summer. What sort of person would she be if she spoiled that?

  She stared out the window. A large grey cloud had drifted in front of the sun, leaching the colour from the buildings in the square. A newspaper blew along the pavement and everything suddenly looked drab and dull. It started to rain Maybe it’s time I grew up, thought Lily bleakly.