Page 7 of I Knew You Were Trouble

It occurs to me that it’s a little odd for Meredith to be jumping so quickly to Miller’s defence, but I let it slide. ‘If you say so.’

I sink back into the seat, looking down at the pile of papers in my lap, despondent, thinking of all the underpaid, overworked factory personnel in Bangladesh, and how I am no longer going to be able to give any of them a voice. At least not yet, anyway.

‘So, shall we do Aidan?’ Meredith ventures.

I puff out my cheeks. ‘Can we pause for a second? Give me Aidan’s summary; I’ll look at him later.’

Meredith hands it over as I excuse myself to the bathroom.

I stare at my reflection in the mirror, the stark overhead lighting accentuating every blemish, not least the bags under my eyes. My shoulder-length hair is already going flat amid the cabin’s pressurised air supply. It’s a moment, at least in my mind, that requires serious deliberation, though everything is happening so fast. It occurs to me that I’ll be spending my thirtieth birthday in November on tour with every teenaged girl’s fantasy: all five members of Rebel Heart.

It isn’t the band’s fault. I imagine they have about as much power as I do when it comes to these decisions. But theirs are the faces I’m going to have to look at for the coming months, and I can’t help but resent them for it, each entitled one of them, with their perfectly sculpted torsos, effortless hair and veneered smiles. I massage the skin on my cheeks, trying to increase the blood supply, reminding myself that millions of young women and girls around the globe still worship their existence. Most would cut off their right arm to spend a few moments inside a room with any of them, and now I am expected to get up close and personal withallof them.

How ironic then, that I have just been given the job that thousands of girls would be prepared to lose a limb for, and it’s a role that I couldn’t care less about. Splashing my face with water, I come to a decision in an airline lavatory: I will put my full effort into making this documentary, splice it all together like I’ve been tasked, deliver it on a platter to Vaughn Herrera and the good people at Silverpix, and then get back to highlighting somerealissues of concern in the world.

Chapter Three

Tokyo, Japan

Touching down at Narita Airport, I feel groggy. I emerge into the arrivals hall with Duncan and Meredith and three luggage trolleys to find a thickset, bald-headed man in a suit holding up a placard with my name on.

‘Hi, I’m Lexi,’ I say, shaking his hand, astonished by the sheer force of his grip.

‘Bodhi Callaghan,’ he says in an American accent, still holding onto my hand. ‘Welcome to Tokyo.’ He grins at Meredith, and I glimpse a gold tooth. ‘Good to have you back with us, Mer.’

‘Bodhi is head of transportation and security for Rebel Heart,’ Meredith says, giving Bodhi a hug around his waist. ‘Has been almost since the beginning, haven’t you, Bode?’

‘Since I gave up wrestling,’ he says. ‘You know, I like to keep in the background,’ he adds sheepishly. ‘Unless I’m needed.’

‘You and me both,’ I say with a smile. ‘This is Duncan, my cameraman.’

Duncan and Bodhi shake hands.

Bodhi takes control of one of the trolleys from Meredith. ‘It’s about an hour’s drive to the hotel, though it’s rush hour, so it might take longer. We’ll be there by eight p.m. Did y’all sleep on the plane?’

The champagne did a good job of knocking me out. In the end, all three of us slept most of the way.

I stare out of the car window in glazed wonderment for the majority of the journey. The temperature gauge on the dashboard says it’s eighteen degrees. Bodhi drives us to the Park Hyatt in Shinjuku, and I recognise the hotel fromLost in Translation, one of my favourite movies, set in Japan. Entering the hotel lobby, carrying some of our cases, Duncan and I look at one another and burst into fits of giggles.

Meredith smiles. ‘What is it? What’s funny?’

I grin. ‘We’re just more used to sleeping in tents.’

‘Aye, freezing our nuts off and cooking breakfast on a portable gas stove,’ Duncan adds. ‘Jesus Christ, look at this place, Lex. I feel the need to give you a high five.’ Duncan high-fives me.

‘Don’t thank me yet.’

‘Why’d the last guy get fired from this gig?’ he asks.

Meredith gives a shrug. ‘Among other reasons, let’s just say he and the boys weren’t so keen on one another.’

‘Hear that, Lex? You gotta get on with the lads. You should send him a thank you note. I could coorie doon here alright.’

I offer him a sardonic smile.

Meredith giggles at Duncan. ‘What does that even mean?’ she asks.

‘Means like, settle in, snuggle up, you know.’

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