The One That I Want

by Lynne Shelby

  ‘That girl could be me. That girl should be me.’

  I stopped walking. Nadia’s phone rang.

  ‘Oh. Leo,’ she said. ‘Yes, I got your voice mails. All ten of them... No, I couldn’t ring you back... I told you... OK, I texted you. I had to go out with Cassie to BarRacuda... You know why. It’s part of my job. I have to be available 24/7. I don’t work nine to five like you... I know I said I’d come over to your place last night, but I couldn’t get away... Cassie insisted I stay at the club... You know how needy she is...’

  There was a long pause, presumably while Leo was talking, during which I stood in the hall, rooted to the spot.

  ‘If you log onto the internet, Leo,’ Nadia carried on, ‘you’ll see exactly what I was doing. I was acting as Cassie’s decoy. I left BarRacuda with Ryan, so that I got papped with him and not her... There are photos on every news site... Yes, I expect they’ll be in the papers tomorrow... Oh, yes, Cassie’s still determined to keep her and Ryan’s relationship out of the press… I agree with you, she’s being ridiculous, but what can I do? Lucy only encourages her... We didn’t leave the club until five. I really don’t think there would have been any point in coming to your place at five o’clock in the morning...’

  I listened in growing disbelief. Nadia had seemed so concerned for Cassie, selflessly offering to out herself as the ‘mystery blonde,’ but what she really wanted was to set up her own alibi. She was lying to Leo, and at the same time badmouthing Cassie and me. If Nadia wasn’t at Leo’s last night, I thought, where was she? And who was she with?

  When Cassie and I had gone downstairs to dance, Nadia had been sitting at the bar with the well-known director. Had she gone home with him? Or some other guy she’d met at the club?

  Poor Leo, I thought. That Nadia would cheat on her boyfriend and lie about it with such apparent ease, appalled me, but I told myself I had no right to be judgemental. For all I knew, she may have woken up that morning in a stranger’s bed and realised she’d made the worst mistake of her life. Could I blame her if she was twisting what happened last night to stop Leo finding out?

  I could no longer hear Nadia talking. I waited a few minutes until I was sure she had ended the call, and then I went into the kitchen.

  It was only after she’d found the batteries and I was taking them and the coffee back to the living room, that I remembered what Nadia had said just before her phone had rung. That girl could be me. That girl should be me. I told myself that I’d imagined the bitterness in her voice.

  CHAPTER 5

  ‘I’m still surprised that no-one told the press the name of the other girl in the photos,’ Adrian said.

  ‘Me too,’ I said. ‘I’m actually quite insulted that none of my friends recognised my rear view. I’ve had my fifteen minutes of fame and nobody even noticed.’

  ‘You should stick the pictures in a scrapbook to show your grandchildren,’ Adrian said. ‘They’ll be well impressed that you partied with TV stars and footballers in your wild youth.’

  ‘I don’t think my youth has been particularly wild.’

  ‘But you did sleep with Fabio Rossi, didn’t you?’ Adrian said. ‘Come on, Lucy, you can tell us.’

  ‘I did not sleep with the goalkeeper,’ I said. ‘All I did was share a taxi with him. I believe I’ve told you this before, Adrian. Like every day for the past month.’

  Maria laughed. ‘Ignore him, Lucy. He’s just trying to wind you up.’

  My phone rang.

  ‘That could be him,’ Adrian said.

  I glared at Adrian and picked up the phone. It was Ruby to tell me that my eleven o’clock appointment had arrived in reception.

  ‘Send him up,’ I said.

  The speculation as to the identity of Ryan Fleet’s ‘mystery blonde’ had continued for over a week, both on the internet and in the newspapers. Several tabloids had run articles featuring girls (mostly unknown actresses and glamour models) who claimed to have met him at BarRacuda and spent the night with him. Most of the articles were accompanied by photos of said girl, naked except for a pair of football boots. Headlines like ‘Fleet Scores’ and ‘A Fleeting Night of Passion’ irritated Cassie, but amused Ryan. The only article that annoyed him was one in which the girl proclaiming herself the ‘mystery blonde’ described him as hopeless in bed. He refused all requests for interviews unless they were about football. A mildly hysterical Cassie came into the agency and told Eleanor exactly what had happened on our disastrous girls’ night out (a lot of famous actors have a tendency to over-share with their agents – who else can they trust?), and everyone at Reardon Haye was ready to deny everything if they were ambushed by the press.

  Then the lead singer of boyband Silver Dollar announced his engagement to a backing dancer, and the ‘I Am Ryan’s Fleet’s Mystery Blonde’ kiss and tell stories were old news. Except at Reardon Haye, where Adrian continued to tease me mercilessly about the goalkeeper, refusing to believe that I hadn’t at least been tempted to go home with him.

  Adrian said, ‘If I promise not to mention the goalkeeper ever again, will you do the sandwich run today?’

  ‘Tell him “no,”’ Maria said. ‘It’s his turn.’

  ‘I can’t do the sandwich run,’ I said, ‘I’m auditioning all day.’

  There was a knock on the office door.

  ‘And that’s my next auditionee.’ I picked up a CV from my desk and read the name aloud. ‘Owen Somers. Aged twenty-four. Trained in acting, singing and dancing. Here’s hoping he’s a star in the making.’

  I’d been surprised and ridiculously pleased when, earlier in the week, Eleanor had handed me a pile of young, male actors’ CVs and told me that I was to interview them, on my own, for a place on the agency’s books – until then I’d only conducted auditions under the watchful eye of Maria or Adrian. I was convinced that I was going to discover the next Daniel Miller. Sadly, none of the actors I’d seen so far were likely to set screen or stage alight. Only a couple of them could actually act.

  My first thought when I opened the door to Owen was that he was a good-looking guy. Not devastatingly beautiful like the Fallen Angel, but definitely attractive, tall and broad-shouldered. When he pushed back the untidy, dark blond hair that had fallen over his forehead, I saw that he had the most extraordinary blue eyes. His headshot didn’t do him justice.

  ‘Hi,’ I said, ‘I’m Lucy Ashford.’

  ‘Owen Somers,’ he said.

  I showed him into the small room adjacent to the main office, where we interviewed prospective clients, and gestured to him to take a seat.

  ‘I see from your CV that you graduated from drama school in June,’ I began, ‘but you’ve not yet had any professional acting work.’ Inwardly I cringed, thinking how patronising this sounded, but Owen didn’t appear to mind.

  ‘No, not yet,’ he said. ‘I’ve found that it’s almost impossible to get work if you don’t have an agent. At drama school they warned us that acting is an overcrowded profession and that only a few of us would make it as successful actors. What I didn’t realise was quite how hard it would be to get my first job.’

  Me neither, I thought. If it hadn’t been for Cassie... ‘You could always give up acting and try something else,’ I said.

  ‘No, I really couldn’t,’ Owen said. ‘The only thing I’ve ever wanted to do with my life is act.’ His face broke into a disarming smile. ‘That sounded more intense than I intended.’

  I smiled back. ‘So what sort of roles do you see yourself playing? Do you want to perform in the theatre or in film or TV?’

  ‘What I want is to play leads in the West End, the National Theatre, feature films and prestigious BBC dramas. Unfortunately, I have to eat and pay the rent, so I’ll take whatever acting work I can get.’

  I nodded encouragingly. ‘If an unknown actor takes a minor part in a TV advert, it gets them into a film studio, and they start making contacts in the industry.’ This was something I’d heard Maria and Adrian say many times, and it seeme
d to me that it made a lot of sense.

  ‘If I had a walk-on role in anything,’ Owen said, ‘it would mean I was acting. And it could lead onto other things.’

  ‘Absolutely.’ I liked Owen’s attitude. Too many of the other guys I’d interviewed had told me that they would only accept a major role. ‘Can you show me your audition pieces now?’

  ‘Sure.’ Owen got to his feet, and stepped into the centre of the room. ‘I’ve a speech from Iago ...’

  The play, a modern version of Othello, with the story told from the villainous Iago’s point of view, had been one of my set texts at uni, so I knew it well.

  ‘Whenever you’re ready, Owen,’ I said.

  Suddenly the boy with the winning smile was gone and in his place was a brutal sadist, taking vicious pleasure in describing exactly how he was going to destroy Othello, the master he hated. I watched, mesmerised, as he paced back and forth across the room like a caged animal, venom dripping from his voice as he spoke. His eyes were hard and cold like blue steel. When he stopped speaking, I realised that I’d been holding my breath.

  ‘That was really good,’ I said.

  ‘Thank you.’ Owen was once again himself, his voice calm, his eyes warm and friendly.

  I had him perform another speech, this time from a comedy, and he succeeded in making me laugh. Then I listened to him sing. I’m no musician, but I can hear if someone’s singing in tune, and I could tell that he had a good voice. I felt a rising excitement – this guy had real talent. We talked some more about his ambitions for his career, and whilst he was confident, he certainly wasn’t up himself. I liked him for that as well.

  ‘Well that’s all I need for today,’ I said. ‘Unless you’ve any questions…’

  ‘I’ve only one question,’ Owen said. ‘Are you going to take me on?’

  I do hope so, I thought. Aloud, I said, ‘I can’t tell you that right now. The final decision is made by the head of the agency. But I’ll call and let you know either way.’ I stood up to show Owen that the audition was over, shook his hand, and opened the office door.

  ‘For what it’s worth,’ I said, ‘I think you’re an extremely good actor. If giving you a place on the agency books was just up to me… But it isn’t.’ I realised that I’d spoken rather too freely, even unprofessionally, but I couldn’t unsay it.

  ‘Thank you,’ Owen said, quietly. ‘I appreciate your telling me that.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’

  We smiled at each other, and I thought, I have never seen eyes that blue before. I watched him walk to the lift, and went back into the main office.

  ‘So, was he any good?’ Maria asked. ‘Can he act?’

  ‘Yes, he can act,’ I said. ‘He’s very talented.’

  Eleanor appeared in the doorway to her office. ‘Who’s very talented?’

  ‘Owen Somers,’ I said. ‘The guy I just interviewed.’

  Eleanor held out her hand for Owen’s CV, and studied his headshot.

  Without thinking, I said, ‘He’s better looking than his photo. He has the most amazing blue eyes.’

  Eleanor arched one eyebrow.

  ‘But it’s his acting that impressed me,’ I said quickly. ‘He sent shivers up my spine.’

  ‘Reardon Haye isn’t a large agency,’ Eleanor said. ‘Every day, we receive dozens of CVs and showreels from actors looking for an agent, but we can only handle a limited number of clients. Are you saying that Owen Somers should be one of the very few young actors we take on this year?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said.

  ‘You have to be sure. If we put him on the agency’s books, will we be able to get him work and further his career as an actor? Will he make us money?’

  I’d been ready to answer Eleanor’s questions about Owen’s acting, but it hadn’t occurred to me that she’d ask me if I was certain he’d make the agency money. It seemed wrong to be deciding an actor’s future on that basis. Then I remembered what Owen had said about having to eat and pay the rent.

  ‘Yes, he will,’ I said confidently.

  ‘In that case, we’d better have him sign a contract,’ Eleanor said, much to my relief. ‘Congratulations, Lucy, you have your first client.’ She swept back into her office, leaving me with the distinct feeling that I’d passed some sort of initiation test.

  CHAPTER 6

  ‘So, I called the actress and told her that she’d better pack her suitcase – she’s got the part, and next week, she’s off on tour.’ I was sitting cross-legged on my bed, recounting the highlights of my day to Cassie, while she sat at my dressing table, painting her nails. She looked up and smiled.

  ‘You’re really loving your work, aren’t you, Lucy?’

  ‘Yes, I am,’ I said. ‘When I heard that Owen Somers – my client – had been cast in a new play, I think I was more excited than he was – Oh no! I’m doing it again. Talking about the agency. It’s all I ever talk about. I’m so boring.’

  ‘No you’re not. It’s great that you enjoy what you do. And it seems like you’re pretty good at it.’

  ‘I am good at my job,’ I said. ‘Even if I say it myself. When I see Owen tonight, I’ll know that it was me who suggested him for the role to the director and –’

  ‘You’re seeing him tonight? Aha! I knew it!’

  ‘You knew what?’

  ‘All those charming young men on Reardon Haye’s books. One of them was bound to ask you out. It was only a matter of time.’

  I laughed. ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, but none of them have asked me out, charming or otherwise.’

  ‘You’re not going on a date with this Owen guy?’

  ‘No, I’m really not. My interest in Owen is purely professional. Tonight, I’m going to watch him act in Siblings at the Wardour Street Theatre. Tomorrow, I’m going to watch another actor in another play.’

  ‘I don’t know very much about live theatre,’ Cassie said. ‘Even though I call myself an actress –’ Her phone vibrated, and she broke off to answer it. ‘You did? Oh, well done, that’s amazing… I’m so proud of you… Yes, I’ll be right down.’ She ended the call. ‘Ryan’s outside in the car – I’ll probably stay at his place for the rest of the weekend.’ She stood up to leave.

  ‘OK,’ I said. ‘See you Monday.’

  ‘His team were two-one down at the start of the second half, and then he scored twice.’

  ‘That’s great.’ I knew very little about football, but I was fairly sure that this was a matter for congratulations. ‘Tell him congrats from me.’

  ‘I will.’ She opened the door, but then shut it again. ‘Ryan asked me to watch him play from the stands with the other wives and girlfriends today. Obviously, I couldn’t, but I do feel bad that I didn’t see him score those goals.’

  I felt a vague sense of unease, without quite knowing why. ‘Did Ryan mind that you wouldn’t go and watch him?’

  ‘Oh, no. Well, we had a few words, but I reminded him that it was me who would lose my job if our relationship became public, and he apologised. And we’re fine now.’ She smiled. ‘Ryan is just so… so…’

  I pushed my feelings of disquiet away. ‘The perfect boyfriend?’

  Cassie laughed. ‘No man is perfect, but Ryan comes pretty close.’ She opened the door and stepped out onto the landing. Over her shoulder, she said, ‘I think I may be just a little bit in love with him.’

  ‘Oh, Cassie! And does Ryan feel the same?’

  ‘He’s told me that he does.’ She smiled at me, and without another word, closed the door.

  There was no-one to see me, but I also smiled, happy for my friend. If only I could meet a guy as nice as Cassie’s footballer, I thought. Not that I was desperate to become half of a couple again, but if the right man happened to come along…

  I reached for my laptop, and spent an hour or so catching up with some of my uni friends on Facebook, before it was time for me to leave for the theatre. I inspected myself in my mirror. A quick comb of my hair and a touch-up of my lipstick and
I was good to go.

  On the landing outside my room, I met Nadia coming out of her bedroom, which was opposite mine. She was wearing a black satin dress that was cut almost as low at the front as the back, and she was carrying a fur coat and a sequined clutch bag.

  ‘You look very glam tonight,’ I said. ‘Where are you off to?’

  ‘Only a birthday party,’ Nadia said.

  ‘Whose birthday is it?’

  ‘No-one important. Just some friend of Leo’s. But I do feel that a girl should always make an effort.’ Nadia looked me up and down, but evidently decided that my off-the-shoulder jumper, skinny jeans and boots were unworthy of comment. ‘And how are you spending the evening? Do you have a date?’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘I’m going out on my own to see a play.’

  ‘On your own? On a Saturday night? Oh, Lucy, what are we going to do with you?’

  Not for the first time, I found Nadia’s condescending tone intensely irritating. ‘I’m working tonight. I’m going to watch a client.’

  ‘Anybody famous?’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘He’s not famous. Not yet. But he may be one day. His name’s Owen Somers.’

  ‘Owen Somers?’ Nadia said. ‘Is he tall with fair hair? Does he have blue eyes?’

  ‘He is. He does. Do you know him?’

  ‘I used to know him,’ Nadia said. ‘I haven’t seen him in years.’

  ‘He’s a very talented actor.’

  ‘Really?’ Nadia sounded incredulous. ‘You think that gawky boy has talent? He must have changed a great deal since I knew him.’

  ‘Owen Somers is going to be a star,’ I said. ‘I’m certain of it. It was me who persuaded Eleanor Haye to take him on as a client.’

  ‘I see.’ Nadia smiled sweetly. ‘Well, I hope that you’re right about Owen. It won’t do your reputation at the agency much good if he turns out to be a failure as an actor.’ She added, ‘I must get going. Leo’s outside in his car – did I tell you he’s just got a new Porsche? Can we give you a lift to the tube?’