Authors: Alice Ann Galloway
But what was I here for, if not for proof? I realised that Marti recognising me was the best option. If Marti recognised me, it was likely that he would encourage me to leave so as not to cause him further irritation. After all, my time with Joel had caused him to act unprofessionally, to put Marti in an awkward position, to be late to the recording studio, to go AWOL the night of the car crash. Yes, the more I considered my options, the more that annoying Marti seemed to be the way to resolution.
So there it was. I would stay and wait for the band to return.
I had at least three hours to kill and I desperately needed some to eat and drink.
I walked away from the hotel, down three or four streets until I came across a coffee shop. I took a seat by the window. It was wonderful to be in the warm, with a hot cup of tea and biscotti. I used the toilet and it felt good to wash my hands and brush my hair. I reapplied my lipstick and washed the raindrop stains from my new glasses, drying them under the hand-dryer.
Seated back by the window I noticed the sign on the door which said the coffee shop would close at 9pm. So I knew I would have two more hours after that in the cold. I grabbed a newspaper from the abandoned table next to mine and settled in.
At 9 o’ clock, warmed by two teas and a hot chocolate, with my rumbling stomach abated by biscotti and a blueberry muffin, I left the warmth and light of the coffee shop and walked back through the dark to the hotel. The rain-lashed pavements reflected coloured lights; white, red and yellow from the street lamps and passing cars. I reached the hotel.
I knew I could have just walked inside. I knew I should. But something stopped me. I didn’t belong inside. I was not a guest, nor was I part of their five-star world. I felt that the staff would know I didn’t belong and that – if Joel arrived back and saw me seated in the lobby or drinking cocktails in the bar – it would place me back in his world. I suppose I was worried he might think I was there to rekindle our affair. That was something I had promised not to do.
Through the glass lobby doors, I could see light and warmth, which suggested to me the sounds of guests drinking, talking and laughing, though no noise escaped. Our here in the street, the rain still fell and the lights of passing taxis reflected in the puddles on the street. I sat back on the low wall, the texture of the bricks familiar to me now but colder beneath my bottom than earlier.
I was so very tired. My legs and arms ached. My hands hurt. I felt quite nauseous. My mobile started to vibrate in my pocket. I answered it – mum.
“Where are you love? I was worried!”
“Sorry mum, I met up with a friend and we are just having a drink.” I lied easily, having prepared for this eventuality.
“Well when will you be home?” She sounded unsure; I could hear it in her voice, a little bit of doubt. I should have called her, that way she wouldn’t have had time to worry.
“I’ll be quite late mum; we’re having a good old catch up. I’m so sorry I didn’t ring you sooner but we were having such a nice time. You remember Elaine from college?”
“Oh, yes, she’s a lovely girl!” I could hear mum relax. “Say hello to her from me! What’s she doing now? Hairdressing, wasn’t it?”
A car horn blared at the top of the street.
“Got to go mum, we’re just going for a drink, be home later, don’t wait up!” I hung up before she could reply.
I put my phone away, tucked my hands into my pockets and tried to hug myself warm. At ten past ten a cab pulled up. The expectation was great, would this be the moment?
Jack got out with a girl, I think she’s a backing singer, I recognised her. Jack didn’t look over towards me until the girl had stopped talking. He was very attentive to her. I took a guess that he fancied her. She was twirling her hair around her finger, like she was reeling him in. He pulled her towards him and they kissed.
Lucky boy, I think. Boy meets girl, boy likes girl, boy gets the girl. That’s the way it should be. Simple.
She pulled away from him; I pretended I hadn’t been looking. A doorman with an umbrella strode out to meet them. She stepped under the umbrella but Jack did not. The girl and the doorman walked quickly towards the doors and disappeared inside.
“Hey you,” says Jack, “Cigarette?”
“I don’t smoke, remember?” I mumbled.
He wandered over.
“So you stayed?”
“I stayed.”
“Still want an autograph?”
“No I’m OK thanks. Just waiting.”
“You’ve been out here for, what? Four hours?”
“Something like that,” I say, thinking it’s more like nine hours but I am too ashamed to admit it.
“So are you sure he’s coming?”
“Pretty sure.”
Jack is quiet for a while as he takes a few deep inhales and exhales. “You’re pretty weird.” he states, matter of fact.
“You don’t know the half of it,” I added wryly.
He stayed there while he smoked, right next to me and he said nothing. I think he was wondering if I was a nutter. I can understand that.
“Well Katie, you make sure you go home some time tonight.”
“My last train is in 30 minutes,” I said, looking at my watch. “I can only stay a few more minutes.”
“What will you do if you miss it?”
Missing it, hmm. This was all stupid enough without missing my train. As I considered the prospect of walking on my tired feet to the station, which might be deserted apart from the odd hooker, tramp or junkie and sitting on a cold train where I would be at the mercy of any passing gang of drugged up crazies… well another idea came to mind.
“Do you know if the hotel would call me a cab?”
“Sure,” he said. “I’ll ask the doorman how much if you like. Where are you going?” I told him the name of the town I lived in and he stubbed out his cigarette. “Do you want to come inside and speak to them with me?”
“I’m OK here,” I said.
He returned a few minutes later, shivering at the cold and rain. “I did you a deal,” he said. “A hundred quid, it would have been £115 but I haggled.” He smiled.
A hundred quid; it was a lot of money. At first I thought it was too much but then I considered what I would do if I left now for the train. If I left with this still unresolved, I knew I would be back at the next opportunity, waiting to see him and wondering every day if I was crazy or if it was real. Probably wasting another day, another train fare, just to miss the opportunity again. And what if the band changed hotels? How would I find the answers I was looking for then?
“Could you ask if the hundred still stands after midnight?” I asked. “I don’t want to miss the train then find the rate has doubled.”
“Sure.” Jack popped back into the lobby and reappeared a few minutes later. “It’s the hotel’s own taxi, so they are here all night for guests and they don’t increase their rate after midnight so you’ll be fine.”
“Thanks so much Jack. Yes I’ll take the cab, if you could tell him that please?”
“Will do. You sure you don’t want to come inside? Have a drink and get warm?”
“No thanks, I know this seems strange but I can’t.”
“You’re not banned or anything are you?” His eyebrow raised and he smiled.
“You’ve rumbled me!” I teased politely. “Seriously, I’m fine Jack. Go back inside.”
“OK Katie. Good to meet you – even if you are a bit odd!”
“Cheeky. Now go back inside and finish what you started with your girlfriend!” I ordered. Off he went, back through the beautiful glass doors, into the other world. The world of glamour, opulence, beautiful people and dreams come true. A world that ultimately was no longer real to me.
*****
Time passed. Midnight came and went. What possessed me to stay? I don’t know how to explain it. To go now, well it would have proven the whole day to have been a waste of time. Finally, a silver people carrier drew up. The doorman appeared, walked briskly to the cab. Out got Marti. He was alone. I stood up and walked straight towards him.
I wasn’t even on his radar, he started to walk with the doorman towards the lobby entrance – I was about to lose my opportunity. It was now or never.
“Marti!” I shouted.
My voice caused him to turn on his heel; the doorman too. Both looked at me quizzically.
“Do you remember me?” I asked, stepping towards the light and removing my glasses.
He looked at me and something like recognition may have crossed his face. I am not sure… it was so quick, so fleeting.
“So many countries,” he said slowly, “So many girls.” He smiled sarcastically; I knew his intention was to humiliate me. He stepped back towards the hotel doors and then turned away from me. “Sorry love, you won’t be getting your autograph tonight, they’re out for dinner, and they might not be tucked into bed for hours yet. ”
They reached the doors. The doorman stepped aside for Marti as he opened it.
At the last minute, Marti turned and looked directly at me.
“How far you have fallen,”
he whispered. Then he was gone.
Tears ran down my face. I put my bag down on the wall. Why couldn’t he have spelled it out to me? Called me by my name and warned me off?
The rain was being driven under the canopy by the wind and the wall was now too wet to sit on. I crouched down near the floor with my head in my hands, feeling like I was about to be sick. I was sobbing uncontrollably.
The rain beating down on the pavement, the noise of the spray from the passing traffic and my own sobs, masked the sound of footsteps until they were almost at the hotel. There was a tiny ‘flash’ in my mind. I opened my fingers to look between them, hiding my tear-stained face.
I saw a shape approaching through the dark, a silhouette reflected in the lights that bounced off the puddles, that familiar sway to his walk as he splashed through the raindrops.
No coat. No minders. No car.
I looked up and there he was. Just a boy walking towards a girl in the rain.
Joel.
I
instinctively stood to greet him despite my best intentions to stay hidden. I pushed my wet hair back from my face yet he passed within three feet of me, not seeming to be aware of my presence. It was very dark and he seemed totally absorbed in his thoughts.
I observed as the doorman appeared with the umbrella – how do they know? Must be CCTV, I thought – and I remember feeling both disappointed and relieved that he had not noticed me or recognised me, there in the dark.
In the seconds I had, I just drank him in. He had changed his clothes from earlier and he looked so tired. Probably jet lagged as well as worn out from the gig.
So, this would be my final opportunity but I daren’t speak. I couldn’t break my promise. He hadn’t seen me and that was perhaps for the best, after all.
I didn’t reckon on the doorman, as he lifted the umbrella to protect Joel from the rain, looking directly at me. “Are you the lady wanting a cab?” He asked.
A simple question.
Time stood still. Like the moment all those months ago in the forest by the river, Joel’s face turned towards me and, as if in slow motion, my brain absorbed the beauty of his features. Almost by freeze frame my mind took in the fact that Joel Vine was turning his head, curious to know who the doorman had addressed and, as the light from the lobby hit his profile, he looked directly at me just for an instant, before casting his eyes downward.
An instant in which I could see there was no recognition in his face
whatsoever.
I was certain of it. Not a glimmer.
Well, if we had never met, then I had never promised him I would stay away, so what could possibly stop me from speaking to him directly now? To be brave? To get the answer I came here for?
“Yes, that’s me,” I spoke up, remembering the doorman’s question. “I’ve been waiting for an autograph from Mr Vine, if that’s OK?” I smiled towards Joel. It was my safe, friendly, hopeful smile. I’d used it before, in the mirror in the toilets at work, back at what I’d termed ‘first contact’.
Despite my question Joel remained passive and unreadable. He continued looking down at his shoes as if to say ‘I’m tired, it’s been a long day.’ He did not speak at all.
The lobby doors were suddenly thrust outwards, Marti raced out into the rain. The doorman looked worried that there was no umbrella over him, he tried to bridge the gap between Joel and Marti but realised they would both get wet. He chose to keep the umbrella over Joel.
Marti put one hand over his head to protect his hair from the side-swiping rain and the wind.
“Joel, what are you doing out here on your own mate? Why aren’t you at the restaurant with the others? Come inside!” He ushered Joel towards him, frustration oozing from his body language and his tone of voice.
“Do you have a pen,” Joel said, monotone.
“Sure,” I said, grabbing a pen and a pad from my bag and handing it to him.
He didn’t ask what my name was. I didn’t volunteer it. In that moment, it was weird enough for my brain to take in what was happening and what it all meant. Joel Vine quickly signed for me and then handed the pad back. For an instant, our hands both held the pad then he released it. Still no eye contact.
One final chance.
“Can I have a photo with you?” I asked.
No answer. He just stepped away towards Marti and the lobby doors. “Make sure there are no photos Marti,” I heard him say, softly.
Then he was gone, leaving me and the doorman standing in the rain. Marti followed him. Even he didn’t look back at me.
I asked the doorman to please call me the cab. It pulled out of a driveway at the side of the building, it must have been there all along. I got in and gave the driver my address.
I spent the entire journey crying into that signed piece of paper. There were no answers to be found that day and, if anything, the hurt I had felt before had been compounded by a thousand.
So yes, I am looking forward to the end of the year. In fact I can’t bear it a second longer.
Roll on midnight.