Read Strings Attached Online

Authors: Mandy Baggot

Strings Attached (42 page)

‘Is this what you’ve been trying to tell me? Is this the hold he’s got over you?’

‘Please George, let me finish,’ Quinn begged.

George watched him take a deep breath, seemingly collecting his thoughts and marrying them up together.

‘I had the treatment. God knows what it involved, I think I’m some sort of mishmash of latex and pigskin. I didn’t ask. But whatever it was, it was pioneering and it was miraculous. I haven’t one scar on my body and they made me into every woman’s fantasy. You’d think what’s not to like right? But with every procedure it bound me more to Roger. He paid for it all. He got rid of my hideous face and I owed him. At first it was OK you know, I love music and I found out I could play lots of instruments, not just the piano. My first album went platinum within a month. It was critically acclaimed, it won awards and I’m thinking, life doesn’t get any better than this. But it isn’t enough for Roger. He wants an album a year, he wants constant touring, he wants me to meet film producers and then he introduces me to Taylor. Before I know it, we’re living in a mansion in LA with a butler, two housekeepers and a cook.’

‘But if you hate it so much you have to leave.’

‘I can’t leave. I wouldn’t know where to start. That’s the problem, I don’t have a beginning.’

‘What d’you mean?’

‘George, Quinn Blake doesn’t exist. Roger created him, created me. I didn’t just lose my memory in the accident, I lost my identity. When I woke up from the coma I had no idea who I was. I was John Doe, the guy with no name and half a face. I still have no idea who I am or where I came from and before, when all I could think about was not having the face of a monster, I could deal with that. But now, now I’ve met you, it isn’t enough. I want to know who I am, I want to know how I can play music, how come I can speak three different languages, why I can’t face eating a freaking banana anymore. I want to know who my parents are and I don’t. No one does,’ Quinn told her tears brimming up in his eyes.

Forgetting about the others sat inside, George took hold of his hand and held it in hers.

‘Why didn’t you tell me this before? What were you so afraid of?’

‘Roger doesn’t want anyone to know about the accident and how we came to meet each other. He’s created a back story about me. I come from Arkansas, my parents are dead, and before their death we travelled a lot, so no real roots. It seems to be enough for the public, but it isn’t enough for me. I mean I could be a wanted felon for all I know and I don’t know! I go and make him millions every year, but that still isn’t enough. He wants me to marry Taylor and give him grandchildren, musical protégés, Rock It Music’s future security,’ Quinn explained.

‘Do you think he knows who you really are?’

‘No. No one knows. I had no ID on me after the accident, no distinguishing marks. They checked the missing persons register, it was like I never existed. It was like I wasn’t important to anyone. The only thing I had on me was a kind of friendship bracelet they had to cut off my arm. I kept it and I still have it. It’s all I’ve got of whoever I was before I was Quinn.’

‘Why do you sound ashamed?’

‘Do I?’

‘Yes.’

‘I don’t know, Roger says people won’t feel the same way about me if they find out Quinn Blake’s a fabrication. He doesn’t want them to find out I was designed to look this good. He thinks they’ll feel cheated and lied to.’

‘You don’t really believe that do you? People aren’t like that.’

‘They are in this business.’

‘Well so what? Who cares? It doesn’t matter who you were then. You’re the same person with the same amazing talent, you’ve just got a different name.’

‘But the thing is, without Roger, I wouldn’t have a name. I wouldn’t have a face I could look in the mirror at and I wouldn’t have the career I have now. He’s given me everything,’ Quinn continued.

‘And that gives him the right to make you marry his daughter?’

‘I wouldn’t have cared so much about that, if I hadn’t met you.’

George looked at him, her heart aching for him.

‘I’ll marry her. But I can’t give you up George. I just can’t,’ Quinn said determinedly.

‘It’s never going to work. I live in England, you live in LA. You’re going to have a wife and children. I don’t fit anywhere in that picture.’

‘Move, move to LA. I’ll get you a place.’

‘Are you crazy? I have a business I’ve worked my arse off building up and I’ve got Adam. He needs me now more than ever. I can’t just move, to be what? Your mistress when you can get away? It would never work. People would find out and I couldn’t live that way,’ George exclaimed, standing up.

‘Then I’ll move to England. To Basingstoke even.’

‘Don’t be stupid Quinn. There’s nothing for you there.’

‘There’s you. I don’t want to lose you. When we’re together, everything seems to make sense. It’s like I can be me, it’s like you’re what’s missing from my life. We connect in every way and I don’t know what to do,’ Quinn admitted, looking at her with his wide
,
perfect eyes.

‘You have to do what
you
want. Forget everyone else. If you want us, then you’re going to have to choose us. And that means turning your back on Roger and Taylor and stopping this wedding,’ George spoke, standing up from her seat.

‘Don’t go,’ Quinn said.

‘Shall I tell you how I really feel Quinn? About this whole thing? I’m in Spain catering the most publicised wedding of the century and I hate every minute of it. This was supposed to be what I dreamed of, big catering cont
racts, travelling, getting well-
known for my food. But it’s turned into a nightmare, because of you. You came into my life and you turned it upside down. Most of the time, I can’t think about anything else but you and it’s driving me crazy. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. You get under my skin, you mess with my head and most of the time I can’t decide whether I love it or hate it. You confuse me, you get inside me, you make me feel like I’ve never felt. And tomorrow I’m going to have to watch you promise eternal love to someone else,’ George spoke, staring at him.

‘But...
’ Quinn began.

‘Don’t you dare say I should know it isn’t real. It doesn’t matter if it’s real or not, you’re still going to do it. You’re still going to say those words,’ George snapped back.

Quinn just looked at her, his eyes filling up.

‘We’ve had the most amazing time together Quinn and I will never forget you. But I won’t play second fiddle to a make-up obsessed shopaholic. I’m worth more than that, and if you really care about me, if you really love me like you say you do, then you should know that,’ George insisted her voice breaking.

Quinn got up from his chair and took hold of her hand, putting it to
his
chest.

‘I’m yours George, you should know that.’

‘You were never mine, not really. You were only ever on loan,’ George replied, taking her hand away and heading for the door.

‘George, wait, please - look - marry me – when all this is over, marry me,’ Quinn called after her.

George looked back at him and shook her head.

‘I can’t.’

 

 

He could just step off the roof. He could just jump. He’d almost fallen climbing up after three bottles of wine, and now he was finishing the night off with a bottle of Jack Daniels. What was the point? What was the f**king point of any of it? He had fame, he had money, he had status. He was doing a job he loved but he couldn’t be any more f**king depressed. He didn’t care about any of it. He just wanted her and if he couldn’t have her, nothing else mattered. He took his phone out of his pocket and looked at it. No messages, no missed calls, nothing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thirty Seven

 

It was the day of the wedding and it felt like it was both a beginning and an end. George couldn’t face getting out of bed. Quinn had text her all night, begging for her to reply, begging to see her. Then, he had started calling her. In the end she switched her phone off. She was too scared to turn it on this morning, knowing her resolve might not last. Half of her wanted to see him again, the more sensible half of her, told her to stay away. She had been having this fight with her conscience ever since they’d met. Besides, this morning he’d be dressing in his wedding suit, getting ready to get married. It didn’t get any more final than that.

There was a knock on the door and then it opened. Marisa came in carrying a tray of food.

‘Morning. I’ve made you ham, cheese and red onion omelettes with a tomato coulis. Mum made the coffee,’ Marisa informed, bringing the tray over to the bed.

‘God, I’ve been teaching you too much. Before long you’re going to be taking over the business,’ George remarked, pulling herself into a sitting position.

‘I think I need to like, maybe, do a college course, in catering. Like, maybe in the evenings or something,’ Marisa said, watching as George prepared to take a mouthful of the food.

‘You want to go to college. That’s great,’ George told her.

‘Yeah, I know, but the fees are like
...
’ Marisa began nervously.

‘You want me to pay?’

‘Well Adam said I shou
ld ask, but if you can’t then...
’ Marisa said.

‘You get me the information from the college, I’ll look into the finances. Is Adam OK?’ George asked.

‘I think so. I told him he should talk to you, properly like he used to and get over himself,’ Marisa replied.

‘Thank you,’ George answered, eating some food.

‘We - er - kind of - like got together last night. Not like, you know, in bed or anyth
ing, just, you know, a bit of...
’ Marisa began.

‘OK, got the general idea,’ George said hurriedly interrupting.

‘I just thought you should know. You know, what with being his mum and everything,’ Marisa said.

‘Thanks and I’m pleased. He likes you a lot,’ George spoke.

‘He said he’s liked me for ages but didn’t think I liked him. Like how could I not? He’s hot, I mean, he’s really nice, and clever and everything and obviously like great on the piano,’ Marisa said, blushing.

‘So, is he helping us out today?’ George asked.

‘Yeah, he’s downstairs messing about with the violin Quinn gave him for his solo thing today. He’s really nervous, though he wouldn’t admit that. So, don’t say I told you.’

‘OK, I won’t mention it,’ George agreed.

‘He says Quinn’s a mess. Apparently he got drunk last night, climbed up onto the roof of the villa and sat there for hours, just drinking on his own,’ Marisa informed her.

‘You haven’t told Adam about me and Quinn have you?’

‘No, Girl Guide’s honour. I’ll take it to the grave.’

‘Were you a Girl Guide?’

‘Well, no. But I was in Brownies for a while, you know, made cups of tea and tied knots and stuff like that,’ Marisa answered with a grin.

George smiled at her. Despite her previous reservations about Marisa and Adam, she couldn’t help but admire her youthful enthusiasm and joie de vivre. Perhaps that was exactly what he needed in his life, something light and uncomplicated - something fun.

‘Are you going to be OK today? I mean, seeing him, getting married, you know, in front of the entire world,’ Marisa asked.

‘Yeah, I’ll be fine,’ George replied with more confidence than she really felt.

Marisa stayed
standing
by the bed, just looking at George. The scrutiny of her stare got too much and George looked up at her.

‘You’ve nothing to worry about. You’re going to romp the catering course, these omelettes are really good,’ she told her.

‘Really?!’ Marisa exclaimed excitedly, jumping up and clapping her hands together.

‘Really,’ George assured her.

 

 

‘OK, time check. How long have we got?’ George questioned later, flicking her hair back as she bent over a mixing bowl.

George, Marisa and her team, Helen and Adam had been working in the catering van all morning, preparing the wedding banquet. Outside it was over thirty degrees and inside, with all the ovens going, it was almost melting point. It was a perfect
,
blue sky day and the wedding photos would look fantastic. It almost seemed like the weather had been choreographed, as well as everything else.

‘It
'
s forty one minutes until the ceremony starts,’ Marisa informed, looking at her stopwatch.

‘OK, then we’re doing fine,’ George said, wiping the sweat from her brow with her sleeve.

‘I’d better get changed and get up there. I’m sure they won’t want the lead violinist dressed in an apron,’ Adam spoke with a smile.

‘You look sexy in that apron actually,’ Marisa piped up.

‘Enough already. Is that what they say these days when they want it to stop?’ Helen said.

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