Between a Rockstar and a Hard Place (5 page)

‘We’ll
get back to you,’ he calls back to the girl as he ushers me towards the lift.

‘Where
are we going?’ I ask when he finally allows me to speak again.

‘We’re
going to my room. Look in the mirror, you look exhausted. No wonder you can’t
work out what name he’s used. It’s nearly morning, get some sleep and then
we’ll get back on his trail. We’re in this together now,’ Troy assures me,
brushing my hair from my face and tucking it behind my ear.

I
smile at him and gaze deep into his big, brown eyes. He doesn’t know Dylan, and
he didn’t know me until this morning, and yet he’s stayed up for most of the
night helping me follow the trail of women Dylan has left in his wake.

‘Why
did you speak to me earlier in the hotel bar?’ I ask him.

‘Honestly?’
he asks, and I nod. ‘When you interviewed me I couldn’t get over how beautiful
you were. I couldn’t say anything, not with all the press around, but I was
hoping we’d bump into each other again. I just wanted to have a drink and a
chat with you – I wasn’t expecting an adventure.’

‘I’ve
learnt to always expect an adventure when I’m with Dylan,’ I tell him. ‘But
thank you for calling me beautiful.’

The
lift pings and the doors open. As we walk along the corridor towards his room
we can’t help but hold eye contact and I’m not really sure who makes the first
move, but suddenly we are kissing, Troy pinning me against the door of someone
else’s room. We knock over the stand holding the touring information and it
hits the floor with a loud clatter, bringing our overly passionate kissing to a
halt.

‘This way,’ he says, grabbing my hand
and hurrying me along the corridor. ‘Let’s take this inside.’

I
had the craziest dream last night. I would have classed it as a nightmare, but
it took a turn for the better as it went on.

Rolling
over and opening my eyes, I find myself face to face with a sleeping Troy
Reeves.  I lift the covers and peep underneath – yep, we’re both naked, so last
night wasn’t a dream. I hold off my victory dance, not only because it will
wake Troy, but also because that means Dylan really is missing.

I
roll over and check my phone. Bloody hell, it’s midday. That means in just six
hours time he needs to be on the bus, and unless I find him that just isn’t
going to happen. Claire will hang him out to dry and he’ll be in a whole mess
of trouble – if you thought tracking him down was hard it’s nothing compared to
what it will be like trying to handle him if the label ditch him.

‘Good
morning,’ I hear a voice say from behind me as an arm creeps around my waist.

‘Morning,’
I reply, rolling over carefully so that the covers stay up to my neck. I’m
suddenly very conscious of the fact that I’m naked.

‘How
did you sleep?’ Troy asks me.

‘For
too long,’ I reply. ‘It’s technically afternoon.’

Troy
laughs at me and pulls me close for a cuddle. I can’t pretend I’m entirely
comfortable right now. I just want to find my clothes – well, that random
girl’s clothes – and carry on looking for Dylan before it’s too late.

‘You
needed the sleep, you were knackered last night.’

‘Yes,
I seem to remember you telling me that before you kept me up for another two
hours.’

He
laughs again. I must seem like an absolutely ridiculous person to him – losing
my friends, my clothes and finally my underwear right before his eyes, and all
in the space of one night.

‘You
need to chill out a bit, Nicole. Dylan isn’t your problem and if he’s shagging
his way around this hotel then why shouldn’t you have some fun too? He doesn’t
deserve a Tommy Tank the way he’s behaved.’

‘What
did you say?’ I ask, a little bulb lighting up in my head.

‘Tommy
Tank? It’s Cockney rhyming slang, it means –‘

‘I
know what it means,’ I interrupt. ‘I’m northern, not an alien.’

‘Have
I offended you?’ Troy asks me, clearly baffled.

‘Nope.
You may have saved the day.’

Finally
clothed, Troy and I are hurriedly making our way to the hotel reception desk.

‘I
told you Dylan likes to use the names of important people,’ I explain
breathlessly as we rush across the lobby.

‘Yeah,
and military titles and the Cyrus family,’ Troy adds.

‘Well
before he got really famous, he’d rather pun than claim to be a member of the
Cyrus family. The problem was people were either offended or too embarrassed to
say the names he came up with so he had to stop, but last night he was trashed
and most likely showing off. It’s going to be a funny one, I just know it.’

‘Rather
you than me,’ Troy says with a chuckle as we approach the reception desk.
Working this afternoon is a woman who I’d guess was in her sixties. She’s
wearing a lilac twin set and a neat little pearl necklace, and is already
looking down her nose at my outfit before I’ve even open my mouth.

‘Good
morning,’ I say brightly. ‘I’m looking for a friend, he checked in last night.’

‘Good
afternoon,’ she corrects me. ‘I am Mrs. Williamson, the owner of the hotel. I
imagine you’re with the festival people?’

‘We
are, and what a lovely hotel you have,’ Troy says, offering a hand for Mrs.
Williamson to shake.

She
looks at his hand with distaste before turning back to me.

‘The
name of the friend you are looking for, what is it?’

It’s
bad enough this woman thinks she clearly has better things to do than deal with
the “festival people” who are overrunning her hotel, but what I’m about to do…

‘Mike
Oxlong,’ I reply.

Mrs.
Williamson taps a few buttons on the computer.

‘I’m
sorry, we have no one staying at the hotel under that name.’

‘Do
you have a Master Bates?’

‘No.’

‘Ben
Dover?’

‘No.’

‘Hugh
Rection, middle initial G?’

‘No.’

‘Come
on, Nicole,’ Troy says, taking me by the arm and leading me away from the desk.
‘It was worth a try, we’ll find him some other way.’

‘Excuse
me,’ Mrs. Williamson calls after us. ‘Could your friend’s name be Juan? Juan
King?’

I
spin around to face her, my jaw practically on the floor.

‘Did
you say –‘

‘I
did,’ she interrupts me. ‘You think I don’t see what is going on here? Room
239’

Mrs.
Williams smiles at us briefly, before waving us away from her desk as some
non-festival people arrive to check in.

As
we head up in the lift, Troy finally breaks his straight-faced silence.

‘I
can’t believe what just happened,’ he says.

‘What,
exchanging masturbation puns with a little old woman? Happens all the time.’

We
both burst out laughing. I’m not sure how this day could get any weirder. Don’t
get me wrong, it is still absolutely vital that I find Dylan and get him on
that bus for 6pm, but even if I don’t find him, it’s been a fun night. Troy’s
right, it’s been an adventure – and it’s not over yet.

I
knock on the door of room 239. A girl answers who looks like she’s just time
travelled from the crowd at Woodstock, circa 1969. She’s a proper hippy chick,
not Dylan’s usual type but then again neither was Misty. Oh, and her nose is
bright red, so she’s definitely the girl we’re looking for.

‘Hello,
I’m looking for my friend,’ I say hopefully. ‘His name is Dylan.’

‘Oh,
I know Dylan. We shared a beautiful night together.’

‘So
he’s here?’ Troy asks, trying to peer inside the room.

‘Afraid
not,’ hippy girl tells us. ‘He’s popped into the town.’

‘Why?’
I ask. What could he possibly want from the town? I don’t think that prostitute
will still be hanging around.

‘He
was admiring my pleasure beads,’ she explains. ‘Would you like to see them?’

I
think I say no about as quickly as Troy says yes, but it’s too late. Hippy girl
disappears into her room and returns with her pleasure beads, which thankfully
are around her neck.

‘Wearing
these beads will bring you pleasure. I bought these from Groovy Baby in the
town centre just yesterday, and they brought me Dylan. He’s gone to buy some.’

‘That
man does not need any help finding pleasure,’ Troy says with a snigger, so I
elbow him in the ribs.

‘Well,
because he’s found you,’ he assures the hippy chick, but she’s not buying it.
Then again, she did steal him from a prostitute so I doubt she’ll be going out
and buying wedding magazines any time soon.

Thankfully
she’s too far out (stoned) to care, and she happily gives me directions to
Groovy Baby.

‘Be
sure to pick up some pleasure beads while you’re there,’ she calls after me.

‘You
don’t need them,’ Troy tells me with a wink. ‘You’ve got me.’

Troy
and I have briefly separated. He’s gone to tell his manager that he’s hanging
out with me for a while and I’ve just been to tell Mikey that I haven’t found
his brother yet, but that he hasn’t to let Claire know. He says he’ll cover for
us but come 6pm if Dylan isn’t on the bus they will leave without him. He’s
usually very tolerant of his brother’s antics, but the gig tonight is for a
charity and he isn’t going to let them down, even if it means performing
without a front-man.

As
I stroll through the lobby I spy Troy, and he’s talking to a girl. I try and
ignore any feelings that may or may not be jealously. As I approach them I
realise it’s the girl from last night, Dylan’s first conquest, the one who has
his phone.

She
has a huge smile on her face as she chats to my Troy – that is until she sees me.

‘You
again,’ she says rudely. ‘You’re still not getting that phone.’

‘Can
I have it?’ Troy asks her, realising who this girl must be. ‘I’ll give you an
autograph.’

She
nods before handing Dylan’s phone to Troy and in return he scribbles his
signature on a piece of paper for her.

‘Laters,’
she says, walking away without a thank you.

We
watch her drag her purple suitcase towards the door, tightly clutching Troy’s
autograph in her hand.

‘Well
that was easy,’ I say as Troy hands me the phone. ‘I should take a celebrity
with me everywhere I go – I wish you were with me earlier, I could have kept my
dress.’

‘Just
make sure the celebrity you drag around with you is a world famous movie star,’
he advises.

‘Why
is that?’ I ask, unsure what he means.

‘She
thought I was Orlando Bloom. Quick, let’s get in a taxi before she realises I’m
not.’

I
smile at him. He’s really gone out of his way to help me these past few hours
and I’m not sure what I’d be doing if I hadn’t bumped into him in the bar.

‘Thank
you,’ I say as soon as we’re in the taxi and on our way to Groovy Baby.

‘It
was nothing. His accent is pretty easy and I knew enough Pirates of the
Caribbean quotes to pull it off.’

‘Not
just for impersonating a movie star.’ I squeeze his hand. ‘For everything.
You’ve made what should have been a nightmare of a night actually pretty fun. I
won’t forget that.’

Troy
places and hand on my neck and pulls me close for a kiss.

‘I
told you, it’s me who should be thanking you. I never have any fun anymore, and
I’ve certainly had fun with you. I’ve taken taxis, braved a haunted hotel
floor, I’ve heard a lady old enough to be my grandma chat about self-love, and
I’ve met all kinds of different women – a goth, a hippy, a prostitute –‘

‘Don’t
forget that skank who thought you were a pirate,’ I interrupt.

‘Yes,
there’s her. And then there’s you. ‘

‘Oh
dear, what kind of woman am I?’ I ask. As I turn to face him so he can’t get
away with lying to spare my feelings, I notice that even the taxi driver is
watching our conversation play out in his rear-view mirror.

‘One
of a kind,’ Troy says with a laugh. ‘But I like it.’

Doing
the job that I do and having friends who travel a lot, I’ve been to a lot of
places – some nice, some shitholes, some interesting places, but this town…
this town is weird. I can’t make my mind up if it’s weird and wonderful, or
just plain weird. I’m wandering this as we walk through the door of Groovy
Baby, and as I catch my elbow on a sculpture of a giant baby smoking a joint, I
realise it’s just plain weird.

‘Can
I help you?’ asks a lady who looks and dresses exactly like Eddie from
Absolutely Fabulous.

‘Yes,
how much for the baby?’ Troy asks.