Chapter 14
ELECTRIC CONTACT
‘Luc, I hate surprises.’ My voice comes out in a whine, and I fight the urge to stamp my foot which would perfectly accompany the childish package I’m serving.
I spent most of the day in tour rehearsals, going over the same dance routine for Kind Regards until my brain will be doing the dance every time the song comes on the radio.
Jess arrived an hour ago with a dress ‘perfect for the outing’ from my stylist and helped me to get ready.
James and Dina weren’t free, so she did my hair while I did my make-up.
It really reminded me of when we would get ready for birthday parties as teenagers.
I’m awful at doing make-up because I’ve had it professionally done for everything that matters since I was sixteen years old.
I’ve never needed to be good at it. Jess tugged at my hair, spinning a hair straightener around in a way that leaves my auburn strands in loose waves, a trick I’ve never learnt.
And now I’m ready, and Luc is here. His curls are tidily styled, still wet looking with mousse. He’s wearing a white Ralph Lauren shirt with dark blue linen trousers and perfectly polished white trainers.
‘She’s really stubborn on this,’ Jess pipes up, and takes a huge gulp of her tea.
Luc looks at me carefully. ‘Did you enjoy pottery painting last night?’
I swallow loudly, and I’m careful with my words. ‘Yep.’
‘And you trust me?’
After he asked me this last night, I hesitated. But I already have to fight the words from rolling off my tongue. I can’t tell him I trust him. I wouldn’t know if it’s a lie or not. So, this time, I don’t say anything.
He’s broken down my guard before. Maybe it’s that I don’t trust myself around him.
Luc shakes his head. ‘Trust me on this one, Sienna,’ he requests.
I open my mouth. My lips are dry against my teeth, and my voice cracks when I force the words out. ‘Okay, I think I can do that.’
It isn’t until we open the front door and Kareem’s car isn’t there that I notice the eight missed calls on my phone. My stomach drops as I press his name to call him back.
‘Hey, Kareem. Everything okay?’
‘Hi, Miss Martin.’ The emotion is thick in his voice, a lump preventing clear speech. ‘Not really, to be honest.’
My belly turns, the multiple cups of tea swirling in my stomach. It gargles. My head spins. My mouth dries, and I fight with my saliva glands as I suck as much liquid as I can into my mouth to wet my teeth and lips.
I’m frozen. I can’t ask the question.
‘What’s wrong?’ Luc asks me, a gentle hand on the bottom of my back, and Kareem must hear because he acts like I’ve asked.
‘I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to take you tonight.’
I swallow, bracing myself.
‘We’re on our way to the hospital, but I’ve arranged for someone who covered my leave to come and get you. They shouldn’t be too far away…’ The line crackles and Kareem sniffs. ‘I’m so sorry for the inconvenience.’
I should never have admitted to being excited to play with Kareem’s baby girl when she gets a bit older. If something bad has happened to that poor, tiny baby, it’s my fault. The way bad things cling to me.
‘Is baby…’ I croak, daring to ask but not able to get the whole question out.
‘Oh,’ Kareem breathes. ‘She’s absolutely fine.’
I can finally exhale.
‘Patrick’s dad – he had a fall. Fine, but a bit broken.’
I hear some commotion in the car, Kareem’s husband requesting that he ‘just park there’, ‘it’s fine, just pull over’.
Kareem’s voice addresses me. ‘I should still be okay to pick you up for rehearsals in the morning, Miss Martin, so I’ll see you then.’
A car I vaguely recognise, with Dennis in the front passenger seat, pulls up to the gate. I hit the button on the wall to open it. Jess waves us off from the porch and then closes the door behind her.
The driver pulls up directly outside a theatre in the West End, a crowd of people already waiting outside the building, their phones held in front of them ready to be scanned for entry. They open their bags and let men poke around inside them with a torch.
I’m on the side of the car nearest to the pavement, which is a bad move because when I look out my window and people in the queue see who is behind the tinted glass, they start screaming and waving.
Bad idea. I look at Luc.
I can’t think.
‘Excuse me? Could you do a loop?’ Luc asks the driver.
She nods her assent.
‘I’m so sorry, Sie.’ Luc’s eyes are wide, begging for forgiveness.
I shake my head. ‘This is why I don’t like surprises, Luc.’
‘I know.’
‘You can’t just go rogue. You don’t understand anything about the life I lead.’
If I say I can’t do the same things as a normal person can, I mean I can’t do the same things as a normal person can, I don’t add.
‘I’m so sorry, Sienna.’
At least this will remind my heart this is exactly the reason why Luc and I would never work outside of this arrangement. We should’ve left it all up to Mimi.
I want to scream. I want to shout. I want to cry.
But I do none of the above. I shake my head and look at the back of Dennis’s head.
Our driver practises her expertise in clutch control crawling through central London traffic.
Red lights, tourists walking in the middle of the road without a second glance or thought.
This would never have happened if Kareem was driving us.
He would have pulled up at the stage door.
Dennis would’ve called a member of staff to meet us there and take us to our seats just before curtains up.
‘Can you pull in just up here? Third left?’ I ask the driver. It’s a quiet road with very little foot traffic which should buy us time to formulate a plan.
When we’ve come to a stop, I take off my seatbelt and inflate my chest as far as it’ll go. I turn in my seat, pulling one leg up so I can face Luc. ‘Right,’ I begin.
‘I understand now why you don’t like surprises,’ Luc whispers.
I nod. ‘Mimi usually fixes stuff like this for me before I arrive.’
‘I did ask her whether it was a good idea, and she said it was fine.’
A press frenzy fits her plan perfectly after how little attention we got last night – a few blurred photos of us taken in secret from café goers and the ones we posted on Instagram scattered in a few articles online.
‘If you really insist on surprising me…’ I shake my head. ‘I think, in future, let’s just ask Jess.’
It’s not a bad thing that Mimi wants as much media attention on me and Luc as possible every time we go out. After all, it’s the whole reason we’re forcing ourselves together.
‘Jess did know about tonight.’
‘She thought Mimi had fixed everything though, didn’t she?’
Luc throws his head back in understanding. ‘Noted,’ he nods. ‘Now what?’
‘Could you call the theatre and let them know we’re here? Also tell them what our seats are and ask if someone can meet us at the stage door to take us through?’ I can feel my blood pressure coming back down to earth, my heart rate slowing and the sweaty sheen lining my body drying out.
Luc takes out his phone and does exactly what I asked.
There’s only fifteen minutes until the curtain goes up now.
I ask the driver to take us back to the theatre but pull into the side road next to it so that I can reach the stage door.
There’s already a member of staff waiting at the open door when I get there.
I’m able to walk straight into the building without being seen, my long maxi dress flowing with my movements in the still air of the hot evening.
Luc shows the staff our tickets and they hold us in a private room among the winding corridors in the back of the theatre. As it nears half past seven, someone else comes to lead us to our seats. Just before curtains up to avoid us causing too much of a scene.
We sneak into the end of our row, and people definitely notice. Glances, stares, and phones are pointed in my direction – a few people even let out a cry – before the front of house staff tell the audience their mobile devices must be turned off for the performance, and the lights go down.
I lean over and whisper in Luc’s ear. ‘I’m really sorry.’
He reaches across the arm rest between us and rests his hand on my leg, the warmth from his hand seeping through the fabric of my dress. My body responds by angling myself closer to him and I put my hand on top of his. He kisses my temple, and I lean my head on his shoulder.
Let’s put on a show in the darkness, when people will think we don’t think they’re watching.
The show is beautiful, but I can’t concentrate. I can’t focus. All I can think about is how we’re going to get out of here afterwards, and how I’ll get through the interval. Will I have to disappear? Will someone come to get me and take me back into the safe room we waited in?
I should want to meet people – they’re the people who got me to where I am today. And I do. But I don’t want to detract from the amazing performers on stage who have worked so hard to be in this show. I don’t want to steal their limelight.
Well, Colin-From-The-Label needed more public, and he certainly got it.
I’m a sitting duck in a holding pen.
The interval rolls around and before the safety curtain is even fully down, the young woman behind me has tapped me on the shoulder. I turn around and greet her with my best smile. She seems to exhale at the mere fact I responded.
‘Hi,’ she beams. ‘I’m Anastasia, and I don’t want to disturb your evening, but I just had to tell you I’m a huge fan.’ She’s talking quickly, trying to get all her words in before anyone tries to stop her. ‘You meant a lot to me growing up and you were like… the light in such a dark time for me.’
‘Thank you so much for saying that, Anastasia,’ I reply politely.
Alarm bells ring in my head. I need to get out of here.
I look at Luc, subtly widening my eyes, before turning back to Anastasia. ‘Are you enjoying the show?’