Page 25 of Star Struck

‘Oh come on! Faith . . . it . . . the accident happened before Fallen Skies ever started.’ But the mention of her name made my heart rate rise again. ‘Don’t put this onto her.’

‘Honestly. We used to . . . when we were kids, we’d do these competitions. Like the ones you get in the paper, win a year’s supply of chocolate, win a bike, you know.’ His eyes were serious, the twinkle had faded and his dimples were nowhere in evidence. ‘When we’d both come out of drama school we’d watch those stupid “Choose a Leading Lady for Broadway ” shows and say that it would be better if they chose people with a passion for the show, not just a talent for singing and dancing. Faith used to pretend it was all beneath her. I can still see her sitting there, making like she was reading a magazine and then jumping up to yell at the screen. And she said . . .’ His eyes swam for a moment, then he sniffed and gave a pathetic smile, ‘Faith said that if anything like that came up, we’d go for it. You remember, when Faith auditioned for Nancy? I know it was just before the accident, but you must remember that. Most exciting thing to happen in York since the railways came.’

‘Felix.’ I swallowed. ‘Why didn’t you just tell me?’ I scrubbed a slightly eggy hand over my eyes, pretending I wasn’t crying. ‘Why?’

‘Because you don’t remember! You don’t remember how it was, being driven, being hungry for the part you knew was so right, so you. You felt it, we all did. And I feel it now, about this, about Fallen Skies. I don’t even care what the part is, I just know that being in this series would be the making of my career.’ There was a single tear running picturesquely down his cheek and his eyes looked huge. ‘But I don’t think you really want to remember what it was like. You don’t even want to try to remember.’

‘That’s not true!’ Now my nose had started to run as well as my eyes and I gave up trying to hide it, just let the emotion come. ‘I want to remember, but I can’t. I wish I could. And I hate it, I hate that I have a whole year missing; everything I learned, all the experiences and all the familiarity from then have vanished! Everything is new and you’d think that would be a good thing, but it’s not, Fe, it’s really not. But I do remember this, Faith was my friend.’

‘But you’ve forgotten everything she did for you in that last year . . . everything my family did to help you; it’s all just wiped out, isn’t it? Like none of it ever existed.’ His tear was joined by another, a mirror image on his other cheek. He just sat, towel around his shoulders, tight black underwear on display, and the tears fell onto the duvet tucked around him. ‘It’s gone from your head, Skye. Just . . . poof!’ He flicked his fingers as though conjuring stars.

‘Fe . . .’ I was almost pleading. ‘It’s not my fault. It was the accident, the head injury.’

‘But deep down, Skye, deep down, don’t you think it was because you wanted to forget? This is your big chance to build yourself a new life, to remake yourself into the person you’ve always wanted to be — like being a kid but with enough knowledge to change yourself. Wipe out your background, forget the past, start again from scratch?’

‘No!’ I almost wailed. ‘I didn’t want to forget! I want to remember, but it’s like this big black hole where it all should be, and it’s all gone and nothing left and it means I don’t even know who I am any more . . .’

He touched my face. Stroked away the tears with a thumb, looking into my eyes. ‘You’ve got me, Skye. You’ve still got me. If you win this . . . you win it for all three of us: me, you and Faith.’ He brought his face closer, rested his forehead against mine. ‘I’d do anything for you, you know that,’ he whispered. ‘I look out for you, keep you safe . . . will you do this one thing for me?’ He was barely breathing the words, all I could see were his immense hazel eyes reddening around the lids as his tears mixed with mine. ‘Skye?’

My shoulders shook as I pushed the sobs down into my body. Felix put a careful arm around me and pulled me against him. I could feel the strength of his muscles under his skin as he held me tightly. His body was more compact than Jack’s, more strung with muscle, and he smelled familiar under the faintly foreign scent of someone else’s shower gel. Tears salted our skins for a while longer, then by mutual consent we pulled away. There was much blowing of noses and covert wiping of faces; Felix tried without noticeable results to tidy his hair and I combed a layer of mascara onto my lashes. ‘So? Have you decided?’

Somewhere among all the emotion, I had decided what to do. ‘I’ll do it. Just this once, for Faith, for you.’ I felt a tremor of disloyalty but pushed the feeling away. After all, I was entering, wasn’t I? The chances of winning first prize had to be remote, but second prize now . . .

‘And how about for Jack?’

‘Jack? Why would I do anything for him? I didn’t sleep with him last night, Fe; I only went to him to find out what was going on. It’s not my fault the man has a very odd idea of “dressed”.’

‘Yeah, so I noticed, coming out with his shirt down to here.’ Felix demonstrated. ‘He wants to have you, you can tell. And as for you, missy . . . it’s been a long time. A good pipe-opener, that’s what you need, a run up the slope. And Mr Whitaker there, he’d take you nice and slow.’

‘You are horrible.’ Then, ‘What? Hold on, back up a bit . . . Whitaker? Jack is Jay Whitaker?’ I scrubbed both hands over my face. ‘Really?’

Felix stared. ‘I thought you knew! I thought that was why you were all over the guy!’

‘But he . . .’ I groped for something suitable to say, ‘he’s clean! And wearing . . . you know, shirts and jeans instead of raggy shorts and, okay, so his hair is a bit long but . . . where’s the beard?’

Jay Whitaker, the reclusive, anti-publicity show-runner, the man in charge of the whole Fallen Skies shebang. Chief writer, main storyliner, hirer-and-firer, the man rumoured to be a drunken shambles? Jack?? ‘The last pictures I saw of Jay Whitaker, he had a beard down to here and a fringe you could lose a baby in. He was so hairy that I thought it must be some kind of disguise!’ I tried to match that year-old image with the slightly shabby, quiet man who’d bought me breakfast. That scruffy, half-dressed brooder was the man who put those sexy phrases in Lucas James’s mouth? Things slotted into place — Jay Whitaker, British guy, one of the team of writers for the huge sci-fi hit Two Turns North. Jack. Of course. Now I felt stupid.

‘Hmm. Half-an-hour before you have to be there, Skye. You’ve got thirty minutes to pull out.’

‘Oh my God. I’ve seen him with no shirt on! He’s like . . . as famous as Joss Whedon, and I’ve vomited in his toilet!’

‘Who?’

‘Joss Whedon! The guy who ran the whole Buffy show! Felix, you do watch television, don’t you?’

‘Yeah, all right, don’t get carried away. The quiz . . . ?’

‘Good Lord. I’ve eaten eggs with the Iceman. Wow.’ I tried to slot the two images one over the other, the few, blurry, backstage pictures of someone that made Bigfoot look well turned-out and the real-life barefoot man who chewed pencils. ‘He’s from Leeds, you know.’

‘Er, yeah. Calm down, Mastermind, what about . . . ?’

‘I’ve said I’ll do it.’ I began to yank a brush through my hair, which resisted with everything it had. The thought of sitting in a room full of people made my knees shake, but I was committed now. I’d do it. If I knew half as much about Fallen Skies as I thought — I was heading for a dinner date with Gethryn.

Chapter Thirteen

A chunky girl with pink hair and a T-shirt which said “Mrs Lucas James” stood in the queue to get into Meeting Room One right in front of me. As I slipped into place, breathing carefully, she turned and gave me a grin.

‘Great turn out.’

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