Page 19 of Star Struck

‘She’s been having a tête-à-tête with Mr Tudor-Morgan.’ Jack’s voice was dry.

‘I’d actually quite like to go inside now.’ I tried to disengage myself from Felix’s arm but he had a surprisingly strong grip on my elbow.

‘Oh, it’s nothing important. I shouldn’t think,’ he added hastily. ‘But shouldn’t you be . . . ?’ A nod to Jack and an indication of the head towards the rapidly filling diner, where I could see Gethryn being hustled towards an empty square of flooring, being kept free from people by more of the jacketed security men. ‘Don’t they need you?’

Jack shrugged and he blew out as though he had another lit cigarette between his lips. ‘Not really. I’m just one of the team, that’s all. And, let’s face it, I could be standing beside Geth with my dick out and no-one would notice.’

‘I would,’ Felix said gamely. ‘I’d be looking.’

‘Cheers. I think.’

‘What have you got against Gethryn?’ My anger was rising at his cavalier way of dispatching a man who had been flirting so ego-boostingly with me.

Jack fixed me with a suddenly very serious brown-eyed gaze. ‘Skye. I wouldn’t hold anything against Gethryn Tudor-Morgan that wasn’t made of asbestos, and even then it would have to be reinforced.’ I watched his eyes move, taking in my scar. ‘But you’re right. I’d better go. Someone who knows what’s going on should be there with him.’ And he was gone, slipping his shadowy body up the three shallow steps and back inside, where the crowd moved to allow him entrance.

I twitched to follow, but Felix pulled me back.

‘Come on. I want to know where you vanished to. I’d just got across to Mr Jared White in there, who, I might add has the scrummiest set of abs under that get-up and he needn’t try to pretend otherwise, and when I turned round, you’d gone.’

‘I had a bit of a panic, went outside and Gethryn and I got talking. That’s all, nothing scandalous.’ We started walking. Dusk was gathering overhead and the cicadas’ thrumming noise was all around us like tiny razors being stropped. ‘Jack came and interrupted before it got interesting.’

Felix looked up, checking our position. We were out of sight of the diner now, heading around the motel towards the main doors . . . ‘So, was Gethryn chatting you up? Go on, lover, tell me everything.’

I recounted as much of the conversation as I thought repeatable. I wanted to hold some of the words secret, not spread them out and make them public property but keep them only for myself, to take out and think over when I was alone. And besides, what really remained of the conversation boiled down to the memory of Gethryn’s studied stubble and his hair moving in the breeze; the feel of his fingers holding my hand and those leonine eyes watching my soul.

‘Darling, I’m surprised your underwear hasn’t spontaneously combusted — do you know how many women here would pay any money to have Gethryn Tudor-Morgan get them alone? And a fair few men as well; at least, I’m hoping.’

‘It was . . . nice, yes.’

‘Nice? How long have you been lusting after that man? A year-and-a-half? Two series’ worth of Fallen Skies; what, nearly fifty episodes? I seriously fear for your attitude sometimes, Skye. Next time he chats you up — and yes, I am certain there will be a next time — then you just follow along anywhere he wants to lead, tout de suite and I shan’t have a glass to the wall, all right?’

I gave a kind of sideways nod which could have meant anything, but Felix took it as agreement. He always thought I agreed with him. We stood in the softly encroaching dark for a while, Felix leaning against the wall of the motel while I crossed my arms over my chest.

‘You thinking about the accident?’ Felix’s voice was surprisingly gentle. ‘Your fingers.’

I tucked my hands into the pockets of my jeans. ‘Faith, actually.’ Felix gave an almost inaudible sigh. ‘She wanted to go to America, didn’t she?’

‘Yeah.’ He bent to examine the toe of his shoe. ‘Never got the chance.’

‘I miss her.’ Inside my pockets my thumbs were running along the fingertip scars, tracing them. Inside my head the colours of the accident raged, the blue flames, the red-hot metal. Not memories, something older, harder and more primitive.

‘You and me both, babe. You and me both.’

Another silence. A loved-up couple who’d been strolling around outside under the almost unnaturally clear desert sky came towards us, hand in hand. As they passed, I saw the girl’s eyes, dark in the moonlight, flick to my face and I felt the almost pre-emptive embarrassment rise into my throat. ‘I think . . . Can we go up to the room now?’

‘Sure.’ But Fe didn’t move; he seemed lost inside his thoughts, scuffing his feet in the dust. I felt a little burst of fondness for him, he looked so young with his tousled hair and his face all scrunched up. So unaware of how people looked at me, and, by extension, him.

‘I am glad we came, Fe.’

Then his head came up and that choirboy smile folded his cheeks. ‘That’s really good, Skye. I mean, this whole thing, it’s been good for you, yeah? Even if you never get inside the supremely tight pants of the T-M, you’re having a great time, aren’t you? And then there’s our Jack—’

‘He’s weird.’

‘Whatever. Just you remember, darling, who saw him first.’ Felix pushed himself away from the wall. ‘C’mon.’

But the motel had erupted into noise and light. With the coming dark, even those not attending Gethryn’s little address-the-masses moment had crowded inside and I could hear the voices bursting through every wall. ‘I think I might just stay out here for a bit longer, actually. If that’s okay.’

He nodded. ‘The T-M isn’t likely to strike twice in one night, though, lover.’

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