Love Me Till Wednesday (Sapphire Stars #1)

10

10

Lisa opened her eyes. Where the hell was she? Daylight streamed through a pair of thin curtains that didn’t quite fit the bay window that dominated the room. There was an old damp stain on the ceiling above her, and the cheap wood chip paper was starting to peel away from the wall by the windowsill. A far cry from the luxury hotels she’d been stopping in ever since the Sapphire Stars had gone to number one.

She could hear shallow breathing next to her. A mop of blonde hair was sticking out of the top of the bright blue duvet that was covering them both. Nick.

She lay there, momentarily horrified by the fact that she'd obviously spent the night with him. She peeked under the duvet. Nick was in a t-shirt and boxer shorts. She was missing her jeans but otherwise dressed in the same clothes she remembered changing into after last night’s award ceremony. At least she wasn’t naked.

Her head was throbbing, but that didn’t stop her mind from replaying the most cringeworthy moments from last night. It was as if they were being fast-forwarded like a compilation from a TV blooper reel: tripping over on national television, discovering Pete in flagrate delicto with that awful journalist, Dougie’s unwanted attentions and finally, the ultimate humiliation of throwing up in the gutter outside the cinema. She tried to recall what had happened after that, but the blooper reel carried on playing in a potentially endless loop of embarrassment.

Concentrate, Lisa! She remembered walking with Nick to this house, and him offering to wash the leg of her jeans for her. She’d been embarrassed to let him, but she’d not felt up to arguing or washing them herself. He’d offered her his tracksuit bottoms to wear, but she said she’d be fine. He put her to bed in his room. She vaguely remembered commenting that he made an excellent nurse, but he downplayed it by saying he’d had to do something similar for his little sister when he’d been babysitting. He was planning to sleep on the floor, but she’d insisted he was fine in the bed.

And now here she was, wide awake next to him. She checked her watch. 5.30 am.

Please, god, don’t let him go to the tabloids with this. They’d have a field day.

Her jeans were drying over a clothes horse in the corner of the room. She carefully got out of bed and walked over to them. The right leg was still damp but not soaking wet. It would dry on her. It wasn’t as if it was the depths of winter.

She carried them out onto the landing to get dressed there. Should she say goodbye? No. He was fast asleep, and to be completely honest, she was too embarrassed to face him. She tiptoed down the stairs and let herself out of the front door.

Which way now? There was no one around to ask, but she vaguely remembered they’d walked past the phone box at the far end of the street. She looked at where the sun was in the sky. Yes, that made sense. She’d be heading roughly southeast, which would take her back to the hotel. That girl guide training had finally come in useful.

The walk would do her good and give her a chance to think about her situation .

She thought back to that first kiss with Nick in the cinema. It had set Lisa alight like no kiss she'd experienced before. Stop thinking about that! You need to concentrate on how to deal with the Dougie situation and how to finish with Pete without breaking up the band .

Lisa could do with Mel’s advice to make sense of it all. But first, she’d have to pack her things at the hotel, head back to Pete’s, then start moving back into the flat she officially shared with Mel.

As for Dougie, the band were due back in the studio this afternoon. She'd raise his behaviour with the rest of them then. They were unlikely to want to ditch him – he'd got them where they were today - so she'd have to play it carefully, but at least she'd got 24 hours to think about how to get evidence to confirm her suspicions.

Lisa arrived outside the hotel. She said hello to the doorman and headed inside. With a bit of luck, her hotel suite would be empty again, but when she let herself in, she could hear Pete gently snoring. At least he was alone this time.

Pete stirred when she pulled back the curtains. He looked seriously hungover as he sat up. ‘Where the hell have you been? I’ve been worried sick.’

‘I spent the night with a waiter. And you?’

Pete looked stunned. ‘I don’t believe you.’

Lisa headed towards the bathroom. ‘It’s true, but we didn’t have sex. Not that it matters now.’

‘Is that it then? We’re over?’ he called after her.

‘Of course we are. I can’t give you what you want, can I?’ she said. ‘Can we go back to being friends again? We were good at that.’

‘I guess so.’ Pete looked bemused.

Part of her wanted him to argue, to declare his undying love for her, but it was just her ego talking .

When she emerged from the shower five minutes later, Pete was fully clothed and sitting on the end of the bed. ‘I don’t know what to do,’ he said. ‘You won’t tell anyone else about Andy, will you?’

‘No, I won’t. That’s up to you. But if you’re not ready to come out, we need a cover story for why we’re splitting up.’

‘I suppose we could say being a couple and working together was too much, so we’re going back to just working together.’

Nick woke up in bed alone. He rubbed his hands through his hair. He hadn’t drunk much last night, but he had a headache. It must be a lack of sleep, though not in quite the way he’d planned after that kiss in the cinema. Lisa was something else. He smiled to himself.

He headed out onto the landing. There was no sign of her in the bathroom or downstairs either.

Disappointing, but what did he expect? It was naive to expect her to stay for breakfast. She was used to luxury hotels, not this run-down Victorian terrace that shook every time a train went past the end of the backyard. As if on queue, the 7.30 am to West Ruislip rumbled by.

He hadn’t intended to ask her back to his crappy house share. Not that he was opposed to a one-night stand, but there was something about her that was different, and it wasn’t her terrible taste in socks or that she was a famous singer. He’d met celebrities before - some barely acknowledged his existence, others were polite. But Lisa had listened to him and seemed genuinely interested in what made him tick.

And then there was that kiss. He’d kissed loads of girls, but her soft lips on his had set his whole body on fire. After he’d rescued her from that incident with her manager, he’d planned to take it steady, but after they started making out in the cinema, it was obvious there was no way either of them wanted to settle for anything less. Until she’d thrown up, that is.

He put the kettle on and stood looking out into the backyard, replaying last night in his head. He remembered when he’d first seen her on the balcony, the fading light in the sky making a halo around her deep red hair. He’d recognised her immediately. She was shorter in real life than she appeared when he’d seen her on television but no less striking. And when she’d smiled at him, it had made him catch his breath.

Come on, Nixon. Don’t give up that easily. She’s worth seeing again.

Lisa had said something about being in the studio later. Did that mean today or tomorrow? Not that it mattered because he had no idea which studio. It would be simpler to go back to the hotel and leave a note on Reception for her to collect when she checked out. He better get a move on.

He grabbed a pen and a sheet of his housemate Jenny’s flowery shopping list paper from the notice board in the kitchen. Not exactly perfect but it would have to do. Better than last night’s chip paper that someone had abandoned on the work surface. Grease stains didn’t exactly fit the occasion.

He got dressed and headed towards the underground station around the corner. Fate must be on his side as he heard the rattle of an approaching train as soon as he walked onto the platform. Grabbing a seat, he composed the note on his knee as the carriage creaked and groaned its way to Kensington. Nothing gushy – he sensed Lisa wouldn't appreciate that.

Can I see you again? Call me on this number at 6 pm tonight if you fancy another drink together.

He added the number of the phone box at the end of his street and signed his name. He hesitated for a moment before adding a couple of kisses. Then he folded the note and tucked it in on itself so no one could casually read it.

Five minutes later, Nick emerged from the tube station and started to walk the short distance up the side street to the hotel. As he turned the corner, a woman walked out of the main hotel entrance. Lisa. He was going to be too late. He was about to break into a run when he noticed a tall, dark-haired man following her. The keyboard player in her band. Nick heard Pete call, ‘Back to ours then?’ before putting his hand proprietorially on Lisa’s waist as the doorman held open the door to a black cab.

You bloody fool, Nixon. Did you really think she was interested in you? He scrunched up the note in his pocket and quickly retraced his steps before they noticed him.

‘You did what?’

Lisa had turned up at Mel’s door two minutes ago, clutching her overnight bag. She still had a key to the flat, but it didn't feel right to just walk in.

‘I went home with a waiter’ Lisa said as she followed Mel into the kitchen.

‘Whose home?’ Mel asked.

‘His home. He lives not that far from here.’

‘But what about Pete?’

‘He had his hands full with a journalist.’

Mel put the kettle on and grabbed a couple of mugs from the cupboard. ‘Not that busty blonde one who was eyeing him up at the record label Christmas do?’

‘No, he wasn’t that busty.’ Lisa waited for the penny to drop .

Mel looked up from making the tea. ‘What do you mean he?’

‘Pete also bats for the other side, it would seem.’ Lisa still wasn’t sure how she’d missed that after knowing him since sixth form.

‘I always thought he could be gay,’ Mel said.

‘Seriously?? Why didn’t you say if you did?’ She didn’t like it when Mel adopted full-on “I told you so mode”.

Mel plonked a large mug of tea in front of Lisa. ‘You seemed happy together. I didn’t want to upset you.’

‘Have you got any evidence for that?’

‘No, but it sounds like you have now.’

Lisa filled her in on last night’s events, including the Dougie incident.

‘So let's get this right. You’re not that bothered by Pete’s infidelity. Meanwhile your new waiter friend is drop-dead gorgeous, funny, caring and a fabulous kisser, and you left his house without leaving him your number?’

‘Put like that, it sounds mad.’

‘It's barking mad. At least you know where he lives so you can stick a note through the door.’

Lisa pulled a face.

‘You walked back. How can you not know the address??’ Mel shook her head. ‘You’re bloody useless at this dating lark.’

‘I don’t do as much of it as you!’ Pete had been Lisa’s only long-term relationship, and apart from a quick fling in sixth form, the few other men she’d been out with had bored her to tears on the first date. Mel, on the other hand, was determined to leave no man undated in her quest for eternal love.

‘I wasn’t paying attention last night, and this morning, I was so distracted by how I was going to handle the situation with Pete, I didn’t think further than that,’ she said. ‘I could probably find the road again and the house, but they all looked very similar.’

Mel looked at her despairingly, though Lisa felt that Mel was secretly enjoying this opportunity to be the grown-up. It was usually Lisa who was incredulous at Mel’s scattiness.

‘So that’ll have to be plan B then,’ Mel sighed.

‘What’s plan A?’

‘Work out how else you can get in touch with him.’

‘There’s the hotel, but he’d said he didn't work there often.’

‘What about the bar you went to?’

‘Jack’s? It was nice, but I don’t fancy camping out there on the off chance that he’ll turn up. He only goes there when he’s been working at the hotel.’

‘Hmmm. I suppose the drama school is finished for the summer.’

‘Yes, he said that. But he’s rehearsing for a play. It’s opening tomorrow.’

Mel looked delighted. ‘Excellent. There’s your answer. Get a ticket if you can, hang around the stage door if you can’t.’

‘There’s a tiny snag. I can't remember exactly where it was.’

Mel rolled her eyes again.

‘But it’s in a small venue. It’s an independent production by a well-known Shakespearean actress, though I’d never heard of her. It sounded avant-garde.’ Lisa added, trying to be helpful.

Mel went into the living room and grabbed the latest Time Out from the untidy pile of magazines by the sofa. She started flicking through the theatre section as she walked back to the kitchen.

‘What about this one?’ Mel thrust the page in front of Lisa, tapping her finger on a listing.

‘Obsession - an exploration of love and delusion in three acts,’ Lisa read aloud. ‘Look - it’s a one-woman show - I can assure you Nick is not a woman! ’

‘Sorry, I missed that bit. Ok, what about this?’

‘Nope. Look where it is. The Apollo isn’t a small venue.’

They found a few other possibilities, but nothing that rang a bell with Lisa. This was starting to look hopeless. Then she spotted it.

‘Stoned - a socio-political discourse on drug dealers and users in the back streets of Manchester. Produced, directed by and starring Catriona Bailey, fresh from her latest success as Cleopatra as the RSC,’ Lisa read aloud. ‘That’s it!’

Mel pulled a face. ‘Sounds grim.’

Lisa looked at the listing again. ‘Contains some nudity.’

‘I suppose they had to do something to sell tickets.’