Page 35 of Star Struck

Jack pushed away from the wall. ‘They’re . . . we are announcing the quiz results in the morning. Afternoon is all the practical stuff, setting up the prizes, then in the evening there’s another signing session — apparently I’m giving away signed copies of some scripts. And then everyone’s getting geared up for the fancy dress ball. Highlight of the event. People like to get together on the evening before it all to discuss costumes and stuff.’ He made a face. ‘Really it’s just an excuse for everyone to get lathered.’

‘Do you know who’s won the quiz?’ I asked quietly.

‘Nah. They get some kids trying to boost their college funds to the tune of a couple of dollars an hour to do the marking.’ He gave me a stern look. ‘And I wouldn’t tell you, even if I knew.’

‘No. Right.’

Lissa cleared her throat. ‘Think we’ve got some paperwork to cover, Jackie-boy. If you’re heading back to good old Blighty, that’s the end of my representation, you know that? It’s over.’

He nodded. ‘I know. And I’m sorry. I know we talked about it, but I never made it clear that I wasn’t just chucking ideas about, that it was something I really wanted to do. Should have told you earlier, but . . . I’ve really only just made up my mind definitely.’

I headed out of the door while they stood looking at each other, but I didn’t immediately head for my own room, because just as I pulled the door closed behind me, I heard Lissa say quietly, ‘So, Iceman. You really gonna throw this all over, huh?’

I instantly pretended an almost terminal case of untied shoelaces, ear pressed to the slim crack in the doorframe.

‘Come on, Liss, you know it’s for the best.’

‘Networks love you. Ratings love you. Hell, the fucking viewers all want to have your babies.’ There was a pause. ‘Sorry, Ice. That was cruel of me. Didn’t mean . . .’

‘I know you didn’t. It’s okay.’

Heart pounding and holding my breath so that I could hear, I slid my body along the wall to the next doorway, flattened myself against it and tried the handle, to be pitched backwards into a cleaning cupboard just as the door to Jack’s room opened. I crouched in the bleach-scented darkness with my face against the door panel and wondered if I was falling into some kind of pattern of listening at half-open doors.

‘You really don’t have any emotion at all, do you, Jack? All this “Iceman” thing, you really got it down, man.’ There was a hint, just the merest whisper, of pain in her voice.

I heard him sigh, and it was a sound that pulled at something instinctive inside me. I wanted to touch him, to hold him, to reassure him that all the pain contained within that single outbreath could be forgotten. But I didn’t dare move.

‘Yeah.’ His voice faded. He’d probably gone back to stand by the window.

‘How long have I known you, Iceman, hey? And now — come on, this is me, I know you. You’ve never had any kinda feeling in all this time, even when . . . and now suddenly you’re overcome with wanting to go back the UK? Smells of fish, boy. How much of this is down to Geth? I could shoot myself over that one, I never thought . . .’

A sigh. ‘It doesn’t matter. It wasn’t you, Liss, it was . . . I don’t know. Me. It’s all me. My head is . . . I promise I’ll tell you when I get it sorted.’

‘Yeah. So. You want me to fetch over the paperwork or not?

‘I guess.’ I heard him sigh deeply, then a scratchy sort of noise as though he was running his hands over his stubbled face. ‘I guess.’

Abandoning the cleaning cupboard as soon as Jack’s door closed, I dashed back to my room to hug a pillow and wonder exactly what secrets were being kept by the reticent Mr Whitaker.

Chapter Sixteen

The crowd were waiting in the diner to hear the quiz results. The makeshift stage had been reassembled at one end, much to the chagrin of the waitresses, who were stomping about behind the counter with coffee pots, and there were so many people that the big glass doors had been opened to allow the overspill to sit outside on the steps. I could hear Spanish arguments and dog yapping coming from the kitchen, which was almost enough to distract me from the fact that they were announcing in reverse order, and had got to number five. Felix was holding my hand, bobbing like a tethered balloon.

‘You must have got something,’ he kept whispering. ‘I mean, you’re not that crap.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Ssssshhh.’ A small woman wearing jeans far too long for her and a Status Quo T-shirt hissed at us and I cringed, ducking down behind Fe’s shoulder.

‘Third prize, the pilot’s uniform . . . is . . .’

Jared paused for dramatic effect, and Felix breathed in my ear, ‘That guy is just the most fantastic man it has ever been my privilege to date,’ which put me off and I didn’t catch the winner’s name. A small group in the corner nearest the doors cheered and whooped, and a lot of shoulder-slapping went on.

‘Second prize.’ My whole body stopped, even my heart seemed not to beat. I was suspended in the moment, held up by hope.

‘Skye?’

Now it was my turn to ssssshhh, craning my head forward.

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