Chapter 9
Post Cefnogwr - Fan Mail
Lucy
Reading through fan mail is one of the best parts of my job.
It doesn’t matter who I’m working for, there’s always someone in the world whose life has been impacted by a set of lyrics, a chord structure, or an interview in a magazine.
That people take the time out to recount these experiences reminds me there’s still a lot of good in the world.
A curly-haired postwoman in a shiny red Royal Mail van delivered four ginormous bags to the house last week and ever since, they’ve been hanging out in the corner of my office, beckoning me to delve into their depths.
But meetings and photoshoots and Cai always come first.
We have nothing in the diary until this afternoon, so I’ve made it my goal to at least get the letters organised.
We didn’t get back from London until early evening yesterday, and I had a call with Felicity that lasted until gone ten.
I still turned up before eight this morning and I won’t leave this house until those bags are empty.
Twelve hour days are the minimum for this industry and I thrive off the long hours.
I’m just getting finished with the first bag when my stomach grumbles, reminding me that it’s well past snack o’clock. I fold up the sack, tuck it into a drawer so I remember to give it back, then haul the second into the kitchen. I dump it by the table then flick the kettle on.
My plan of attack is simple. Everything gets sorted into three piles: the letters that can go straight in the bin, the ones I can reply to – I don’t want any genuine fan to feel ignored – and then the letters I put in front of Cai because I know they’ll make his day.
With a cup of tea in hand and a plate full of biscuits, I get comfy at the table. I pick out the first letter, run a fingernail under the flap but before I can read the first word on the page, Cai wanders into the kitchen.
‘Good morning.’ He opens the fridge door, pulling out eggs and milk and butter. ‘Gonna make some pancakes. Want some?’
I’m on my feet straight away, crossing the checkered tiles to take over. I love pancakes, but there isn’t a timeline in the entire multi-verse that’ll have him cooking for me. I reach out to take the eggs from him, but he pulls them closer to his chest.
‘Don’t you dare,’ he warns me. ‘I’m cooking. You sit. You don’t have to do everything around here.’
I don’t do everything. The housekeeper takes up a lot of the slack when we’re here. ‘But you shouldn’t have—’
‘It’s not a case of having to. I want to. Pancakes are my speciality.’
He’s already weighing out flour. Fine. I’ll allow him to cook for me, but I’ll set the table. And I’ll do the washing up later.
‘Pancakes would be lovely, thank you, Cai.’
‘Brilliant. Beth’s been trying to kick me out of bed for ages to make her some.’
‘She stayed last night?’ I linger next to the counter, my attention fully pinned on him.
He busies himself with mixing the ingredients together but his cheeks turn red, and his coy smile gives away how pleased he is. Good for him.
‘Always happens if we’ve had a few too many and we’re in the same place,’ he admits eventually. ‘Rhys wasn’t too happy, especially because he was staying over too, but he doesn’t mean it. He’s more team Bethan than team Topaz.’
‘It’s always good to have her brother on side.’ I’ve read so many books with the brother’s best friend trope, and it always causes a load of drama. He doesn’t need any of that.
Cai pours batter into the pan. ‘Helps he’s my mate, I guess.
Had long enough to get used to us. Doesn’t like that we mess each other around.
That we’re… I don’t know… more off than on?
He’s always been overprotective of her, though.
Pisses him off that we won’t settle down. But it kind of works… ish.’
‘Only ish?’ I lean into the counter, smiling. I like it when people open up to me. I like being the person they tell things to. It makes me feel useful. Needed.
‘Uhm… yeah. We were like… eighteen when we got together? She moved to London for uni not long after that and I was trying to get signed. It’s been tricky to line our lives up since.
She works stupid shifts and I’m travelling all the time.
I don’t even know how she ended up in Cardiff last night, but there she was at the party.
We had to make the most of it, didn’t we? ’
‘And what about Topaz?’
‘Topaz?’ He frowns. ‘I–it’s easier with him. We’re not always in the right place… but…’
It’s a lot more convenient to see each other when you have a shared career, a similar type of lifestyle. I worked hard to get Topaz the time to see Cai. Nobody’s managing Beth’s diary for her.
‘Beth works for Chelsea doesn’t she?’
‘Yeah.’ He nods, his entire face brightening. ‘She’s Head of Physical Therapy for the women’s team. Not sure how much longer she’ll be there, though. Wants to work with the Welsh squad.’
‘And then she could move home?’
‘It would be lush if she could make it work. London’s way too far away.’
Well, isn’t this an easy jigsaw to fit together. I control Cai’s diary now. It’s not difficult for me to move things around, book more events closer to her.
‘I can clear time for you and Bethan.’
‘Wouldn’t that create more work for you?’
I wave a hand, dismissing his concern. ‘Nothing’s too big a task. All I have to do is let Gethin and Rhys know where you’ll be and when. Easy peasy.’
‘Well that would be fucking amazing.’
He abandons the pan, hurries around the counter and wraps me in a bear hug. I glow in the warmth of his arms. I love being useful.
‘Seriously?’ a woman’s voice comes from behind him. ‘It’s only been, what? Ten minutes and you already have your hands all over another girl. How the hell am I going to trust you on tour?’
He pulls away, revealing a beaming redhead leaning on the doorframe, her hands on her hips.
She could be Rhys’ twin, if he had less worry lines and more freckles.
Blonde highlights streak her shoulder-length hair and her baggy tour t-shirt barely reaches mid-thigh.
I’d strut around wearing a lot less if I was as athletic as she is.
No wonder Cai can’t resist her. If girls were more my thing, I’d struggle too.
‘You're the only girl for me, Beth.’ Cai laughs as he heads back to the now-burning breakfast.
I don’t get the chance to shake her hand, introduce myself and assure her my intentions are only professional. She plonks herself at the table and reaches for one of the letters. ‘What are these?’
‘Fan mail. We had a load of it delivered last week and I’m sorting it all— Oh, I don’t think you should—’
She ignores me and pulls the first letter out of its envelope, her brown eyes softening as she reads it. ‘This is lovely. Says here Cai’s songs helped this woman through a bad breakup.’
This is the exact reason I love this task. Even though it’s for me to do, I’ll let Bethan get involved, spread the warm fuzzy feelings the letters give me.
‘I’m sorting them into piles,’ I instruct as I open the next envelope. ‘Bin. Keep. For C—’ A sliver of hot pink slides out from between the folds of paper and pools on the table. I pick it up between the tips of my pointer finger and thumb. ‘Is this what I—’
‘Ewwww. Those are pants.’ Bethan wrinkles her nose.
Cai delivers a stack of pancakes to the table, keeping them away from the knickers. ‘Those better not be going in the keep pile. Especially if they’re not clean.’
‘Oh, that’s gross.’ I fling them to the floor and wipe my hands with a napkin. They’ll need a good bleaching later.
Cai doles out the food while I divvy out the letters and before long, we’re giggling and sharing the best parts of what’s written. Who knew fan mail could be so uniting?
‘Bore da, bawb. What’s occurring?’ We were too engrossed to notice Rhys sneak in and now he’s standing over the discarded pants, frowning. ‘What the fuck are these?’
‘Fan mail,’ I tell him. Bethan and Cai erupt in a fit of giggles.
‘Minging.’ He sits next to Bethan and stacks a plate high with pancakes. ‘What’s today’s plan?’
‘Cai has a photoshoot at two and then a costume fitting. That’s it. Easy day.’
Rhys reclines in his seat a little, still shovelling food into his mouth. He barely swallows before he says, ‘Brilliant. Couple of hours to recover. Might take a nap.’
‘You didn’t drink,’ Cai argues.
‘Yeah, but traipsing after tequila-fuelled Beth and Cai’s fucking exhausting. You two think you’re fucking hilarious when you’re drunk. You’re not. And I’ve got a sugar hangover from all the soft drinks you forced on me.’
Cai crosses his arms, frowning. ‘Sorry for making sure you were well-hydrated.’
‘It's pop, mate. No nutritional value in it.’
Bethan cuts in, ‘You’ve no time for a nap, big brother. You promised me a lift to the station. I have a game, and I need to get home.’
‘Can you not get a bus?’
An argument grows between them as I open the next letter, unfolding the thick, cream paper.
…I’m utterly, one hundred per cent devoted to you.
Your lyrics are tattooed on my skin, the rhythm of your music has become my heartbeat…
I know where you live. The wisteria in summer is as pretty as you.
Sometimes I catch a glimpse of you at a window.
Think about what you’re wearing. One day, it’ll be me in your room.
Only I’ll have your skin as a costume and your teeth as my jewellery...
I have never read anything as vile as this in my life. My breakfast threatens to reappear.
‘What’s got you frowning, Lucy?’ Rhys’ voice drags me away from the vile words.
‘Oh, nothing.’ I shake out of the funk, fold the letter back in half before anyone else can see it then tuck it under my plate.
He raises his eyebrows at me, but there’s not a chance I’ll talk about it here when Cai could overhear.
Bethan saves the day by pushing her chair away from the table. ‘Well,’ she says as she gets to her feet, ‘It was nice to meet you, Lucy. Hopefully, we’ll get a chance to catch up without these idiots distracting us soon.’
Cai trails after her, leaving me alone with Rhys. His pancake stack already demolished, he adds another to his empty plate and pours a vat of syrup over it. I’m going to take advantage of his good mood.
I shove the letter under his nose. ‘What do you think of this?’
He chews then swallows. ‘If it’s spicy, I’m not interested. I don’t want to know what some horny housewife wants to do with my best mate.’
‘It’s the complete opposite. Good job I was the one to read it and not Cai. It was only postmarked a few days ago and… I don’t know. I’ve dealt with a lot of weird things during my time but this one gives me the heebie-jeebies.’
‘The heebie-jeebies?’ He grabs the letter from me.
His eyes narrow with every line he reads.
I knew I wasn’t overreacting. The fork clatters to the plate and he takes the pile of unread letters from the middle of the table, his face hardening.
He sifts, pulls out an envelope every so often, spreads them out across the plaid table cloth between us.
‘These all have the same handwriting. Could be the same person. And I’ve seen this writing before.’
‘Have you? Where?’
‘Cai had others. Before Halloween. Got them in my office somewhere. But these are more graphic than the older ones. I’ll have a look, see if the handwriting matches.
We might have a bigger issue on our hands than some over-zealous fan.
Someone who’ — he picks up the first letter — ‘wants to murder Cai and hide his limbs so they can keep him all for themselves.’
I’m not one for nightmares, but I’ll be having them tonight.
‘It’s probably nothing,’ I say, ‘but should we call the police anyway?’
He drums his fingers on the table. When he replies, his words are slow.
‘The police didn’t do anything the last time.
But I have a contact at the local station.
I’ll ring it in. You could be right, it could be nothing.
They could have come from anywhere, and it might not be the same person. Just a coincidence.’
He must be tired, because shadows sit under his eyes and he has more lines on his forehead than usual.
‘Thank you for talking to me about this,’ he adds, flashing me a rare smile.
Doesn’t matter that it’s tight, not as genuine as he could give me if he put more effort into it, it’s something more than the frowns he usually saves only for me.
‘Can you bring me any more you find? I don’t care what time it is, or if I say I’m busy.
This is important, Lucy. I… I’m gonna need your help with this. ’
He wants to work with me. Like, take an actual willing step towards being a team. Yes! I am down for this. We can band together, keep Cai safe. We might even work out who’s sending the letters.
I take the mail and fold each piece of paper neatly in half, keeping them away from the other piles on the table.
‘Yes, of course. I’ll put together a folder so we can keep everything together.
’ I also strengthen my resolve to work through the rest of the bags before I clock off tonight, and will keep on top of the post every day.
No matter what I have to do to fit it in. It’s too important to let it build.
He helps himself to the last pancake. I love my food, but I couldn’t eat another bite after reading that someone wants to make soup out of Cai's lungs. ‘Sure, if that’s what you want to do. I know you love a good system.’
His smile grows a little more, and it’s nothing to do with the syrup loaded pancake he’s shoving into his mouth. The corners of his blue eyes crinkle up, making his face seem less harsh, more handsome.
‘I do love a filing system. It makes me a lot more efficient. I can work with you when we get back later, if you want. Show you a few hints and tips?’ I’m sitting straight in my seat now, cheeks aching, and some of the gloom from the letters eases.
‘Don’t push it, Lucy.’ It’s not a warning. He’s still smiling as he stacks the empty plates. ‘I’m not that hopeless with planning and shit.’
‘I know, but you could be phenomenal at it if you let me help. I’ll convert you one day, Rhys Pritchett.’
I join him at the dishwasher, and we work quickly to get it loaded.
‘Yeah, yeah. You wish. Right, photoshoot at two, yeah?’ He glances at his watch.
‘Yep. We need to leave by—’
‘I know how long it takes to drive to the studio, Lucy.’ The ease in his body disappears and he’s instantly rigid. ‘I’ll be at the front door, at the time you’ve told me to be and not a minute later.’
‘Just making sure we have all our ducks in a row.’
He stops in the doorway to look at me. His jaw twitches. But he doesn’t retaliate. Instead, he shakes his head and leaves.
Yeah, the letters must be getting to him. He’s worried about Cai. I would be if Felicity was being threatened.
I tidy away the rest of the letters and use a pair of tongs to bin the knickers. Once the kitchen is clean, I return to my office, determined to make a dent in the rest of the mail before we have to go out.