by Shari Low
In a moment of insight, she wondered if that had contributed to how she felt about Cammy. Was he that connection with home, that security blanket that she’d missed so much more when he was gone because she felt cast adrift, disconnected from her roots?
She’d never been romantically attracted to him when they both lived in Glasgow back in the early years. Sure, she’d thought he was good-looking and he was one of her favourite people to hang out with, but that was as far as it had gone. Until now, she’d thought it was spending the night with him in LA and his declarations of love that had changed her feelings towards him, made her realise what she felt for him and showed her what they could have, but perhaps that wasn’t it. Maybe it was him leaving and cutting the constant tie to her home that had skewed her affection for him and twisted it into something else.
Whatever it was, it was done. Over. Time to move on. And she knew that her relationship with Cammy wasn’t the only one she felt that way about. She’d planned to leave whatever issue was brewing with Jax until tomorrow, but now she felt an urgent need to deal with it and to get it out of the way. It was time for some honesty, and putting it off until tomorrow would just give her another day of drama that she had no energy for. No, may as well be done with it now.
She pulled her phone from her bag and switched it on, then watched as it sprung to life in a disco of beeps, buzzes and flashing lights. Holy shit, the stuff with Lila must still be going viral.
Flicking it on to silent, so she could concentrate on the call, she brought up Jax’s number and dialled.
‘Stace! What the fuck is going on?’ he roared, and she could hear the stress and anxiety in his voice. Whatever the problem was, it hadn’t sorted itself out then.
‘Sorry, my battery died and I didn’t have a charger. I only just got it fired up again.’ One more white lie was hardly going to be a deal breaker. ‘Anyway, what’s up?’
‘You honestly don’t know? Oh fuck, Stace, I’m freaking out here.’
Good to see that despite the fact that this drama seemed to affect her, all he was concerned about was how he was feeling.
‘Look, take a deep breath and tell me what’s happened.’
‘I fucked up, Stace. I know I did. But she preyed on me, man.’
Stacey suspected that a whole team of his PR people had done exactly what they were paid to do, and grovelled to the star, diverting all blame for something that she’d hazard a guess was his bloody fault.
‘TMZ got the pictures. They’re everywhere.’
‘Hang on a minute,’ she said, sighing, before taking the phone away from her ear and pressing her Twitter icon for the second time tonight. This time, she ignored the zillion notifications and typed ‘Jax Green’ in the search box. The reason for his panic immediately flashed up on the feeds of countless celebrity websites. TMZ had him as a headline, as he’d said. So did Radar Online, the Daily Mirror, the Sun, Perez Hilton and at least a dozen other showbiz sites. He wasn’t exaggerating when he said it was everywhere. Great. Two big viral episodes in the social media world tonight and she was connected to both of them, despite wanting nothing but a quiet life.
She scrolled through the search results. Every single one of them used a variation of the same picture – a shot of Jax Green, naked, on a hotel or apartment balcony, cigarette in one hand, bottle of Jack Daniel’s in the other, his penis inserted in a female who was bent over in front of him, grasping the balcony rail for support, an expression of orgasmic ecstasy on her cosmetically enhanced face. It said something that Stacey’s first thought was relief that this woman was blonde and could in no way be mistaken for her. Her second thought was that, from his oblivious abandon, Jax obviously had absolutely no idea that someone was in proximity to the building with a long lens camera. Given that it was taken at – she checked the time of the posts and knew they’d have gone up almost instantly – 4 a.m., she could hazard a guess that he was wasted and that his decisions had been sponsored by his buddy in the picture, Jack Daniel’s.
Slowly, she returned the phone to her ear. ‘What a fuck-up,’ she said, but with something approaching weariness, not anger.
‘Babe, I’m sorry, I—’
Time to cut right through all of this. ‘Jax, it’s fine. Don’t worry.’
‘Seriously? My agent is saying that if I release a statement saying I’m admitting myself to a clinic for sex addiction, we can make this go away.’
‘That sounds like a plan, Jax,’ she offered, still speaking like this guy was a casual bystander as opposed to the lover who had shared her life for the last few years.
‘Babe, I knew you’d be okay, I knew we’d handle this—’
‘Jax, we’re not handling it. Look, I don’t want to get into this on the phone, but it’s over. If we’re honest, we’ve both known it for a long time. I’ll do whatever you want me to do, and I’ll support you in whatever way you need, but as friends. I think that’s all we’ve really been for a long time anyway.’
As she was saying it, she knew it was true. They’d been a convenience, a great PR story, and she’d loved him. Not in the all-consuming, breathless way that she’d loved Cammy, but they’d had good times and she regretted nothing. Apart from, perhaps, the photos of him banging someone else on a balcony. Although, as Lila had just proved, no exposure was bad exposure in this world.
More than anything, though, she knew she had no right to be upset with him because she wasn’t exactly teetering on the moral high ground here.
There was a silence on the other end of the phone and she knew he was weighing up his options. Arguing with her now wouldn’t serve any purpose – he needed her on side.
‘You’ll walk into the clinic with me, show it’s amicable?’
‘I will. Look, I’ll be home in a few days and we’ll sort it out. Try to stay out of trouble until then.’
‘Yeah, yeah…’
By the sound of his distracted voice, she could tell that his mind was already working out how to spin this. She also knew that he’d be sitting in a room right now with his agent, his manager, and at least a couple of executives that specialised in damage limitation. This wasn’t the break-up of a loving relationship – it was more the end of a cordial but worn-out business arrangement. And the lack of emotion from all concerned showed that to be true.
‘Okay, thanks, Stacey. We’ll work it out.’
‘We will. See ya, Jax.’
Hanging up, Stacey realised she felt nothing but relief. It was done. All of this – Jax, Cammy – was over. The outcome hadn’t been the one she’d hoped for, but she was still in one piece, still standing and it could be worse… she could be Lila.
‘Jesus, you’ll get your fecking death of cold out here.’ As always, she heard Josie before she saw her. Josie slipped her arm through hers and they began to walk. ‘You did good today, sweetheart,’ Josie said, and Stacey knew exactly what she was referring to. It wasn’t just the way she’d dealt with Lila, but the fact that she hadn’t confessed all, that she’d let Cammy go. ‘You know, your mum would like you around a bit more. She misses you,’ Josie went on, as they exited the gardens and stopped at the traffic lights, waiting to cross over to their hotel.
‘I miss her too. And you, of course,’ Stacey teased. ‘But only when you’re not pissed off with me.’
Josie’s low, throaty cackle warmed Stacey’s heart and made her smile.
Maybe there was something in what she was saying, though. She’d been based in LA for so long that the homesickness had subsided, but it still wasn’t home. Home was here, with these incredible women who made her laugh, supported her and surrounded her with love. Perhaps it was time to start putting the feelers out for work here, and look at splitting her time between the two countries. After her new-found fame tonight, she’d probably be in a better position than ever to land something on this side of the Atlantic. The irony was unmissable. She’d slogged for years to make a name for herself, and Lila had just raised that bar to unprecedented levels in a ma
tter of seconds.
Only when they reached the warmth of the hotel lobby and joined Val, Michael and Avril, who were waiting there for them, did Stacey let Josie’s arm go. ‘I’ll think about that, Aunt Josie. It’s not the worst idea you’ve ever had.’
‘Naw, pet, that was the night in Acapulco with Keith Richards, but the less said about that the better.’ With another cackle, Josie hugged her. ‘You know, Stacey, Cammy wasn’t the one for you. The right man is out there, love. You just haven’t met him yet, but he’ll come along when it’s the right time. You mark my words. In the meantime, you just live your best life, do you hear me?’
‘I will. I promise.’
Another hug. ‘I love you, pet. More than words. I hope you know that.’
She did. And she also marvelled at the powers of the flaming sambuca, because her beloved Josie was never this sentimental.
‘I know, Aunt Josie. I love you too.’
They’d held each other for a moment, before Josie let out a familiar war cry. ‘Right, who’s for heading to the bar?’
‘I’ll catch up,’ Stacey said, needing a minute to catch her breath. Her phone was still buzzing like a game of Operation being played by four drunk medical students. As she went to switch it off, she glanced at the screen and saw a notification with a name that sparked her curiosity.
Instagram message from Zac Benson. The guy from the plane?
Great to meet you today. If you fancy showing a weary traveller around Glasgow, give me a call. PS: Still awake – any tips for dealing with jet lag?
Above the message was a picture of Zac, his head on a pillow, eyes wide open, a crooked but hopelessly endearing smile. It took her a moment to realise she was grinning. Her first instinct was to close the message, but she paused. All the others were in the bar, and she knew the party would be in full swing and would last for hours. If ever there was a great introduction to her homeland, this was it. Of course, this thought had nothing to do with the fact that he was gorgeous, keen and seemed like the perfect distraction to take her mind off her disastrous love life.
Decision made, her red manicured fingernails flew across the screen.
I believe the best cure is to meet a tour guide in the bar at the West End Grand Hotel.
A pause. No reply. He’d probably fallen asleep. Oh, well. That pretty much summed up her bloody day.
Ping.
Thank you for the medical advice. When should I embark on this course of treatment?
That made her smile again. She liked this guy’s style.
Immediately.
Another pause. Had she gone too far? Was he really going to get out of his bed in the middle of the night and come and meet a woman he’d only ever shared a packet of peanuts with on a plane?
On my way.
Yes, he was.
Thirty-Seven
Website – www.itshouldhavebeenme.com
Members Discussion Forum
Responses to post by member, screen name NotOverYet:
Comments:
BethanySunshine: OMFG! Have you guys seen all the stuff on Twitter? Lila (@NotOverYet – that’s her real name) did it and she live recorded the whole thing. It’s everywhere. Didn’t work though. Some hard-faced cow marched her out of there and the bloke went ahead and married the other woman. But what an inspiration she is. @NotOverYet, we worship you! #EnriqueIglesias #Hero
RealityCheck: Are you fricking kidding me? She’s a complete embarrassment! Why would she do that? She had no back-up plan and none of it came off as sincere. I adore my ex, but come on, are we not past the days when we’d humiliate ourselves for some dude? Incidentally, if her ex ever reads this? Think you did the right thing pal. #notoveryet #notinmyname #muppet
Saturday 21 December
Midnight – 8 a.m.
Thirty-Eight
Caro
Caro sat on a chair at an empty table and scanned the room. Streamers were draped from light fittings, glasses littered the surfaces, there were plates, party poppers, favours, napkins and, rather worryingly, a set of false teeth on the table by the door. She put that one down to Cammy’s dad. It wasn’t the first time he’d popped out his gnashers after a long night of partying.
Other than the dental issue, she decided she’d never seen a more beautiful vision of chaos. It had been the perfect party, if you excluded the bit where her nightmare of a sister turned up and made a play for her husband. All in the name of publicity, of course. Caro couldn’t even find it in herself to be angry. Lila’s life was hers to live, but Caro wouldn’t want it for all the clicks and likes in the world.
Four of the staff that Josie had hired for the night came into the room now, all armed with black plastic bags. Cammy had slipped them all a generous tip that had more than doubled their wages for the night, so they were discussing which club they were going to hit as soon as they’d cleared up and clocked off. Caro remembered those single days of random clubs and parties, and she’d loved them, but she wouldn’t trade them for what she had now.
The door opened again and she automatically smiled, expecting to see Cammy walking through it. He’d nipped out to make sure that everyone who wasn’t staying across the road at the hotel had managed to get taxis at the gate. That’s the kind of guy her husband was. Her husband. That sounded so perfect. What had she been thinking this morning? The truth was that she’d been so tied up in knots about her mum and dad – or the man she’d believed to be her dad – that she hadn’t been thinking at all. She’d been panicking and mourning the fact that her mother wasn’t there with her and somehow that had manifested itself in a need to run. Well, Cammy Jones had better brace himself because she was never running again.
‘Hey,’ she said, ‘What took you so long?’ The last word stuck in mid-air as she saw that it wasn’t Cammy. In fact, it was as far from Cammy as you could possibly get.
Jack Anderson, the man she’d always called ‘Dad’, stood there, scanning the room, then fixed his gaze when it fell on Caro. She got some sense of satisfaction over the fact that he didn’t seem to know what to say to her. He’d been her father for thirty-four years and they were like strangers now. Actually, they always had been, even in the times when they were living under the same roof and he decided to grace them with his presence.
She decided to give him somewhere to start. ‘You’re a bit late for the wedding.’
‘I see that,’ he said, unnecessarily.
‘So you’re here because…?’ She was dying to know. Had he come to some kind of epiphany and realised how terribly he’d behaved? Did he want to make it up to her? Had he come to apologise, to beg her forgiveness, or even to explain why he’d spent thirty-odd years lying to her and her mum? Too late, chum. Too late.
‘I’m looking for Lila.’
Caro almost laughed at the predictability of it. Of course he was. His other daughter. The one who’d come here earlier with the intention of turning her sister’s wedding into a cheap publicity stunt.
‘Well, you missed her. She bailed out right after she stood up in the middle of the ceremony and told my husband he was making a mistake marrying me.’
‘Yeah, I saw that,’ he said, almost casually. Christ, he had a cheek. But then, audacity had always been something that came naturally to him. ‘Thing is, we haven’t seen Lila since then and haven’t been able to contact her. She’s not answering her phone and Louise—’
‘Your other wife, the one that’s not my mum and not dead…’ Caro piped in. It wasn’t in her nature to be malicious, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. It was so unfair that he was here, this vile, uncaring liar, when her lovely mum, who would have revelled in every minute of today, wasn’t with them.
He didn’t even acknowledge her interruption. ‘Louise is frantic with worry. She’s out in the car. We’ve been searching everywhere we could think of for her. This is the last place that we know for sure she was at because of… you know, the video.’
Even now, he couldn’t ask her how she was, wh
at had happened, if everything was okay. He couldn’t even apologise on Lila’s behalf. He was truly disgusting. But the last six hours had been the most incredible in Caro’s life and she wasn’t going to let the appearance of Jack Anderson destroy her happiness. She just wanted him gone.
‘Well, she’s not here. She shouldn’t be hard to find though.’
‘How’s that?’ he asked and suddenly she saw the problem. He didn’t use social media. Or at least he hadn’t when he still lived with them. One of the perils of leading a double life – too easy to get caught if you’re updating your location on your Insta page. History had shown him to be right about that. The only reason that she’d even got a sniff of his treachery was because Lila had put up a post about him on a retro band’s fan page.
There was just one niggling inconsistency though. If he didn’t use social media… ‘How did you see the video?’ she asked him.
‘Someone sent it to Louise. She’s beside herself.’
‘I bet. So neither of you have looked at Lila’s Instagram? Or her Twitter feed?’
He shook his head, and for once, Caro believed him. He’d never been in the least bit interested in anything like that. Said it was for losers. Caro doubted he was even aware that his other daughter was one of the most prolific internet users out there. At least, she had been until her spectacular downfall. Caro had a hunch that tonight’s little performance had been the beginning of Lila’s comeback in the virtual world.
She picked up her phone and put Lila’s name into the search box. It took her straight to a feed that had been well and truly reignited. There was the video of Lila at the wedding tonight and it had… holy crap, over fifty thousand views. There were also thousands of comments, but Caro had no stomach for reading them.
Next there was a photograph of her pouting at the entrance to some nightclub in the city centre. Then another of her hugging a bloke that Caro recognised as a Scottish actor who’d landed a part in EastEnders. And finally, a last pic, taken twenty minutes ago, of her sitting on his knee in the VIP area in the same club. For someone who’d declared her undying love for Cammy just a few hours before, she’d sure got over him real quick. It seemed that it had done the trick though. She was getting the attention that she craved – even if it was for all the wrong reasons.
