The Reluctant Celebrity (4 page)

‘Earth
to Guy?’ Debbie grinned, waving a hand in front of Guy’s eyes.

‘Sorry
Debs, I was miles away.’

‘You
don’t exactly look like the picture of health either you know.’

Guy
looked down at his creased t-shirt again. ‘I know. Last night was my first gig
since my single came out. I never realised how tiring it would be.’

‘So
that’s why you smell like a brewery rat is it? How did it go? Oh and we heard
your interview on the radio, very cool. And don’t let me forget to get a few
autographs from you; they are like currency at playgroups. I’ve had more offers
of play dates than I know what to do with.’

‘Yeah
sure. It went pretty well. A great crowd for a Sunday night in Angel and they
seemed to like me.’

‘Great,
now back to Juliet,’ Debbie began with a wicked smile. ‘You can’t tell me you
don’t know how you feel?’

 ‘Err…I…look
that’s not the point.’ Guy shifted position, unable to get comfortable under
Debbie’s stare. ‘The point is that Juliet, wherever she is, is probably scared
out of her wits right now. Wouldn’t you be if some tabloid had started a
campaign about you?’

‘Rubbish.’
Debbie said with a light laugh.

 ‘What?’

‘I
may not have known Juliet as well as you did, but on the times we met, I don’t
remember her being the weakling you seem to think she is. Her only problem back
then was the way she let you walk all over her, but you sorted that one out
didn’t you?’

‘That’s
not true.’ Guy stood up, moving across to the large bay window at the end of
the room.  

‘Right’

‘It’s
not.’ He turned towards his sister, surprised at the anger in her voice.

‘I
spoke to her you know, after you broke up,’ she said before he could carry on.

Something
in Guy’s stomach lurched. ‘Really? Why?’

‘Because
I wanted to tell her I was sorry that it hadn’t worked out.’ Debbie rested her
hands across her bump. ‘She told me what happened.’

‘You
never said.’

‘Nor
did you.’

Guy
turned back to the window and took a long breath, the silence hanging between
them. Why did he suddenly feel more tired than he could ever remember feeling?

‘Look
Guy, my hormones are everywhere at the moment, I’m seven months pregnant for
goodness sake,’ Debbie paused, her voice softening, ‘I’ve never commented on
how you live your life and we are all so proud of your success.’

‘But,’
Guy added, his voice barely audible as he stared out onto the empty street.

‘But
when are you going to grow up? You’re my little brother and I love you, but
ever since we were kids you’ve always thought normal life didn’t apply to you.
And in some ways you were right, you are an amazingly talented singer.’

‘Debbie,’
he cut in, ‘just say what you want to say.’

‘Fine.
You’re selfish.’

Guy
felt the slap of her words. He had heard the same from a few women over the
years, but he’d always thought they hadn’t understood him. Hearing it from his
sister cut deep.

‘Sorry
Guy that came out wrong. What I mean, is that you are an amazing brother and a
great uncle to Sam, but with everything else you seem to have this one-track
mind. I never asked you what happened between you and Juliet when you turned up
on my doorstep and slept on the sofa-bed for months. I knew you’d tell me if
you wanted too.

‘But
whatever happened, it changed you. You threw yourself into becoming a success,
even though it was obvious you hated modelling, and you didn’t stop for breath
until a few months ago. And now you’re doing the same thing all over again with
your music. Except this time it’s something you love. So why are you trying to
drag Juliet back into it?’

 ‘I’m
not, like I told you it was an accident, I had no intention of getting her
involved in my life like this,’ he said again, suddenly wishing he hadn’t left
the comfort of his huge studio flat at all that morning.

Having
a sister that lived only ten minutes down the road in Finchley had its good
points, but none of them sprung to mind at that moment.  

‘But
you have, so what are you going to do about it?’

‘I’m
not sure there’s much I can do, I have no control over what the papers print,’
Guy sighed. He knew he sounded lame.

 ‘There
you go again, turning your back on anything that doesn’t fall into your lap.
You’ve been so lucky with the modelling and now you are finally doing what you
love, and you’re great at it, how many people can say that?’ she paused for a
moment. ‘If I thought you were happy I wouldn’t be saying this, but I don’t
think you are.’ Debbie stopped, her words hanging in the air between them.

‘Right,’
he nodded, negotiating his way back over the toys back to the sofa. 

Kneeling
beside his sister, he pecked her on the cheek. ‘I’m off then.’

‘Wait.
I’ve said too much haven’t I? Don’t go, come and feed the ducks with me and
Sam, I promise not to say anymore.’

‘No
Debbie you’re right, you’re always right,’ he said stretching his athletic body
back to standing. ‘I’m going to do something’

‘Hang
on Guy, don’t rush into anything. Let’s talk about this. What are you going to
do?’ his sister asked, her voice taking on a desperate tone.

‘I
have no idea. Do what I should have done years ago - find Juliet. I don’t know,’
he replied, already striding out of the room. ‘Love you sis. Give Sam a kiss
from me; see you next week for babysitting duties.’

‘Guy
wait, don’t slam the…’

The
loud bang of the front door drowned out the remainder of Debbie’s plea.

Two
hours later, a freshly shaven and considerably cleaner Guy jumped into his black
Jaguar XF and set off.

The
sudden halt of Guy’s body almost threw him off balance as his tattered trainers
scraped along the floor of the empty corridor. For a split second he had no
idea what had pulled him from his trance-like walk.  And then the scent caught
him again.

The
smell like the Woolworth’s pick and mix counter – sugar and sweet and just out
of reach.
He made a mental note to add the line to one of his new songs,
instantly forgetting the tune he’d been humming.

He
took a long breath in, filling his senses; his feet already moving towards the
source as if his body had become disconnected from his mind. Finally, Guy
lifted his gaze from their usual view of the concrete floor, finding instead a girl
with the biggest green eyes he had ever seen.

Guy
found himself unable to take another breath as he took in the bright blonde
hair, cut short and messy, and a black loose knit jumper showing the lace of a
bra and the milky colour of her skin.

He
wanted to touch that skin.

As
if hearing his thoughts, the girl flicked her eyes towards his, her pupils wide
and clear like a wild animal startled by the headlights from a passing car.

‘Hey,’
Guy said, fighting the urge to grin like the village idiot.

‘Hey.’

‘You
look lost.’

‘I
am,’ she said with a smile that hit him like a wave of warm sunshine washing
over him.

 ‘Need
a hand?’

‘I
don’t know. Can you tell me where lecture room four is? I’ve been walking
around this building for the past twenty minutes. I’ve found one, two, three
and five, but four seems to have been pulled into a parallel universe or
something. All these corridors look exactly the same and I’m going to be so
late,’ she finished, throwing a hand in desperation along the mottled blue
walls.  

‘Ah
yes the mysterious lecture room four, I had a class in there yesterday.’

‘Great,’ she replied, the relief visible across her face.

Fuck
she was amazing, Guy thought, as the green oceans of her eyes drew him closer.
 
His
mouth stretched into a lopsided smile that he was powerless to stop.

‘Can
you tell me where it is then?’

‘Yeah
sorry, it’s this way, I’ll walk with you,’ he replied, his cheeks reddening.
Pull yourself together man before she thinks you’re a total moron.

‘Thanks.’
She smiled, falling into step beside him.

 ‘So
you’re a musician?’

‘Yeah,
how did you…?’

She nodded
her head towards the long black bag on his back. What a moron, of course he had
his guitar with him. The weight on his back so familiar it was like a second
skin.

He
took a deep breath and tried to slow down his racing heartbeat, pounding like a
bass drum in his ears.

‘What’s
the lecture?’ he asked, changing the subject before he could embarrass himself
any further.

‘You
wouldn’t believe me if I told you.’

‘Oh
come on, how weird can it be?’

‘The
history of fashion buttons.’

 ‘Seriously?
You’re right that is pretty unbelievable.’

‘I
know, it sounds ridiculous, but in the past fifty years buttons have lost a lot
of their functionality and are being used more and more as part of a design
rather than a fastening device.’

‘Yeah
I get it,’ Guy nodded, as if her explanation made total sense. ‘Like the
chocolate kind.’

To
Guy’s amazement, the girl threw her head back and laughed; the sound as
enchanting as it was surprising.

‘I’ll
have to remember that for my essay,’ she grinned, turning her face to meet his.
‘What about you? I’m going to guess you study something to do with music.’

‘Business
studies,’ he replied with the nonchalant shrug he gave when mentioning anything
in his life which stole him away from his dream. ‘It’s just a backup plan, if
my singing doesn’t take off.’

‘Oh I’m
sure it will. Hey, lecture room four, thanks.’ She grinned at him for a moment
longer before darting into the theatre.

And
just like that she was gone. Before he’d even had a chance to ask her name, let
alone when he could see her again.

The
realisation caused an emptiness to spread through him.

He
looked first towards the door, swinging closed before him, and then down at the
empty folder in his hands, waiting to be filled with his own lecture notes.

What
if he never saw her again?

It
took a moment for his eyes to adjust as he darted into the dark lecture
theatre. Directly in front of him, down a steep row of steps, stood the
lecturer, clicking through a slide show of cushions, all with various types of
buttons.

Twenty
or so students had spread themselves around the hall, all of them staring
intently at the projector and scribbling notes. None of them were her
.

Damn.
What now? Stop the lecture? Sit and wait? What exactly was his plan here?

Suddenly,
he felt a tug on his arm pulling him into the back row. In the dull glow of the
projector light, Guy could just make out the deep wells of her eyes and the
bright white of her huge smile.

Before
he could even whisper a second ‘hello’ or try and explain why he’d followed her
into a lecture about buttons, her lips touched his. Her tongue teasing open his
mouth and causing an explosion of excitement and desire to run through him like
an electrical current.

His
whole body sprung to life as he began to kiss back.

Reaching
out a shaking hand, he brushed his fingers against her cheek.

He
had never felt so alive, Guy realised, knowing how crazy his thoughts sounded.     

And
then, just as suddenly as it had started, she pulled away.

 ‘Sorry,’
she whispered. ‘I…I’ve never done anything like that before, you must think I’m
nuts.’ 

Guy
had no idea how to respond, or even if he was capable of speech. Instead, he lent
forward and kissed her again.

It
took one week. One week of non-stop talking, of opening up their lives for one
another. One week of laughing and touching; of falling into bed together as if
it was the most natural thing in the world. One week before Guy could no longer
remember what his life had been like before Juliet.

He’d
never bothered with girlfriends before. They’d always seemed too much work and
a distraction from his music.

Juliet
was different. She slotted into his life and his thoughts without pushing
anything out. The passion she’d unleashed inside him drove him harder to write
the best song, to play the best gig.

A
dream that had always seemed so far away now felt almost in reach.

Jules
manoeuvred her car into her driveway and killed the engine. Instead of opening
the door and climbing out, she sat in perfect silence and stared up at her
house.

Her
house. Her dream.

If
she stayed in her car and simply stared at the grey stone walls bathed in the morning
light, then the mess that lay beyond the front door didn’t seem so bad. She
didn’t need to think about the hole in the ceiling, the mould in the walls, the
aubergine bathroom suite, or the dank kitchen, which lacked even the basic
kitchen necessities like a fridge and an oven.

She
didn’t have to wonder what kind of garden was buried underneath the wall of brambles
and weeds, or how quickly her bank balance would run down to zero, and beyond,
trying making her dream a reality. She could sit in her car on her wide
sweeping driveway and just stare at her dream in solitude.

The
feeling of peace did not last long. Her eyes soon strayed to Terri’s old red
van, parked next to the yellow skip that had appeared in her driveway on Sunday
morning, and the debris that now filled it after she’d spent two days working
alongside Terri, Dan and Jason to rip out what was left of her ceiling, and
clear the piles of rubble from her living room floor. 

A
few minutes later Jules fastened the top button on her navy work overalls, opened
her car door and slid out, scrunching her eyes shut for a moment as her muscles
cried out in protest. The combination of hard running, hard labour and a hard
mattress had taken its toll on her body.

 ‘Morning
guys. I’ve got biscuits. Who wants a cuppa?’ she called as she stepped through
the open doorway, almost tripping over Dan and Jason as they stood whispering
at the bottom of the stairs.

It
was the first time she’d seen them do anything other than work in two days.

‘Everything
okay? Where’s Terri?’ she asked.

‘Err...,’
Dan began. ‘Mum’s in the kitchen. Someone is here to see you.’

‘Great,
is it your uncle? When did he say he could start the plastering? I can’t wait
to have my own space again,’ she said, stepping down the hallway without
waiting for a response. 

‘Hello,’
she said, stepping into the kitchen, smiling at Terri before moving her gaze to
the man leaning on her kitchen counter.

Her
stomach lurched as a force of emotions hit her. ‘Guy,’ she gasped.

‘Juliet.’

For
the smallest of moments everything fell away as the noise of the sea roared between
her ears. For that one single second, before her mind could catch up, it felt
to Jules as if someone had turned on the lights when she hadn’t even realised
it was dark. 

And
then reality hit her. ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked.

‘I
came to make sure you were okay.’

‘But…’
Jules thought for a moment.

Guy
had changed. The slim body she remembered was gone. Now a muscular physique
filled out a jet black t-shirt and tight faded jeans. The tangled unkempt hair
was also gone, but the dark pools of his eyes remained the same. They still
possessed the ability to scorch into her; filling her with uncertainty.

‘How
did you find me?’ What a ridiculous question to ask she realised too late, as
if they’d been playing a very long game of hide and seek, and she’d finally
been discovered.

‘I
drove to Bath yesterday. Your parents gave me this address. They haven’t
changed a bit,’ he answered, a smile touching his face. 

Typical
of her parents, Jules thought. They wouldn’t think twice about helping Guy.
Even after everything that had happened they still seemed to idealise him.   

 ‘Go
back to why you are here…you’ve come to check if I’m alright, why wouldn’t I
be?’ The anger from so many years of hating suddenly clear.

‘Well
with the newspaper…’ Guy trailed off.

‘Yes
I’ve seen that thanks very much,’ she replied, her tone dripping with spite.  

 ‘Juliet,
I…’

‘Stop
calling me that. It’s Jules now.’

The
space behind her eyes began to hammer in pace with her heartbeat. Why was he
here? Now, after all this time?

’But
you always hated Jules,’ Guy replied, his gaze moving around the kitchen as if
searching for someone to step in and help him.

Jules
had not noticed Terri inch silently out of the room. No doubt listening from
the hallway at her conversation with the famous celebrity, she thought with a
flush of embarrassment.

‘Guy,’
she began, focusing her gaze on a point just behind the man standing in front
of her. She couldn’t trust herself to look into his eyes any longer. ‘I really
don’t understand what you are doing here. You don’t know me anymore. Whatever
publicity stunt you’re pulling, just leave me out of it.’

‘Wait
Juliet, I mean Jules. It wasn’t a stunt, I thought I was speaking off the
record the first time and then the ridiculous article yesterday, I had nothing
to do with it, you have to know that?’

‘No.
There was only one story, not two…’ Her voice trailed off as Guy’s words sunk
in.

There
was another article she had not seen, how could that happen again? 

‘I
thought you’d seen it. That’s why I’m here.’

‘Whatever.
Look it doesn’t matter now, it’s done. As you can see, I’m fine. So you can go
back to wherever it is you came from. Okay?’  

‘Juli…Jules,
it’s not done, it’s not finished. The paper have started a campaign. They are
gathering information about us, and they won’t stop until they know
everything.’

He
pulled a scrap of newspaper from his back pocket.

‘About
me you mean. They already know everything about you.’

Panic
began to trickle through her as she snatched the outstretched paper and scanned
the article. It didn’t make sense. She was a nobody. Why would anybody want to
read about her life?

‘Look,
I understand that you’re angry and I wanted to say that I’m sorry,’ Guy said.

Hot
red spots spread across her cheeks.

‘Sorry?’
Jules looked up, scrunching the paper into a tight ball in her fist. ‘You think
saying sorry for everything you’ve done is going to help now? It’s too late
Guy, years too late.’

They
both fell silent for a moment, before Guy spoke. ‘I meant…’

Jules
cut him off. ‘Oh you meant you’re sorry about the newspaper didn’t you?’

A
strained laugh escaped from her throat as she realised her mistake. ‘And I am
not angry,’ she hissed.

‘Juliet
please, I am trying to help you. Just listen for a minute,’ he pleaded, taking
a step back and breaking the bubbling tension that seemed to be circling around
them like a tornado.

‘I
don’t have to…’ she stopped mid sentence as his eyes found hers, sending
another wave of indecision through her. ‘Fine,’ she sighed. ‘Say what you’ve
got to say.’

‘They
are asking people to send in stories of us, of you,’ he corrected as she
narrowed her eyes. ‘Like I said, they are going to dig around in the past until
they have published every story they can find or the public get bored, which
believe me, can take a while.’

‘But
I’m not famous.’

‘To
them you are. But look,’ he said, pulling a pink card from the back pocket of
his jeans. ‘If you give this journalist a call and agree to go on the record
with a few quotes on the condition that they stop the campaign, then there’s a
good chance we can end this.’

‘We
can end this?’ Hot rage coarsed through her. ‘You started this. You. I was
here, minding my own business, getting on with my life and YOU dragged me into
this. And now I’m supposed to give an interview? And what am I supposed to say
exactly? Or have you got that written down to?’

Jules
took a step forward, the grip on the biscuit packet in her hand tightening. ‘Oh
hello is this
The Daily
?’ she mocked. ‘I just wanted to phone and say
thank you for publishing all this crap about me, I’ve always wanted to be
famous and now I am. Oh and please buy Guy’s music because it’s great.’

In
the silence that followed, Jules could hear only her own heavy breathing and
the fierce thundering of her heart.

 ‘You
need to do this Jules, otherwise they’ll keep printing stuff, some of it will
be lies but some of it won’t, you can’t tell me you want that?’

‘Don’t
tell me what I need Guy, and don’t tell me what I want.’

‘Please
Juliet; I am trying to help you. I know things didn’t end well between us.’

Another
strained laugh escaped Jules’ throat.

He
ignored it and continued: ‘But you have to believe me, I know what I’m talking
about. Please, just phone them. For your sake not mine,’ he said holding out
the card for Jules to take.

‘Fine,’
she snapped, snatching the card from Guy’s hand, unable to avoid her fingers
touching his. Her senses absorbed the familiar rough tips, causing a wave of
nostalgia to throb through her.

She
took an uneven step back.

‘Was
there anything else then?’ she asked after a long pause.

‘I wanted
to tell you…’ Guy paused. ‘I wanted to ask if you’ve listened to my album.’  

 ‘God
you haven’t changed a bit. NO I haven’t listened to your album, and I don’t
plan to either, so sod off will you,’ she yelled, surprised at the venom in her
own voice.

His
eyes continied to boar into hers.

‘Okay,’
he replied, pulling out a slip of paper from his jacket and sliding it onto the
counter. ‘Here’s my number if you need me.’

‘I
won’t ever need you.’

With
her words hanging in the air, Guy stepped past her, striding quickly towards
the door and out of her life for the second time.

She
tasted the blood before she felt the pain. Her teeth piercing into her tongue
as she fought the urge to cry out after him.

Seeing
him again had brought back more than just old memories. When his eyes met hers,
the old weakness returned too. She couldn’t let that happen. Not again. 

In
the sudden silence a large cracking sound filled the air, followed by a
thunderous crash as the pane of glass in the kitchen window shattered to the
floor, covering Jules’ work boots in glass.

 ‘What
the…’ Terri exclaimed as she rushed back into the room. ‘Are you okay?’

‘The
window broke,’ Jules mumbled, nodding towards the shattered glass. It must have
been all the banging we’ve been doing in the living room. Something else to add
to the “to-do” list I guess,’ she said with a weak smile.

Terri
glanced at her two sons, something exchanging between them.

‘What,
what is it?’ she quizzed, her eyes darting between them.

‘Nothing.
Nothing at all. Are you sure you’re okay Lovey? You’re not hurt are you?’ Terri
answered, wrapping an arm around Jules’ shoulders.

‘No,
I’m fine,’ she replied, as a red heat crept along cheeks. ‘I’m sorry you had to
hear all that.’

 ‘Don’t
be ridiculous Lovey.’ Terri smiled, steering Jules away from the broken glass and
into the hallway. ‘I’ve seen my share of lovers quarrels in my time, I can tell
you, and that was nothing.’

‘Guy
and I are not lovers,’ she corrected. ‘Nothing could be further from the
truth.’

‘Well,
whatever it was, the important thing is that you are okay. Now how’s about
letting us take you to the pub for a drink after work today? I dare say you’ll
be needing it, and meeting a few more locals will make you feel right at home.
Rich does a great Curry on a Tuesday.’

‘Rich?’  

 ‘The
landlord Lovey, but don’t you worry, you’ll meet everyone soon enough.’