Page 90 of Musical Games
‘How many grannies do you actually have?’
‘Er, one?’
Sandra leaned back and propped her Louboutins on the desk.
‘Well, according to you, you’ve had at least three. The industry is small and people talk. This is the third time you’ve used the dying granny excuse and it’s your last.’
Sandra fiddled with her phone, then showed Sam the screen, flicking through photos of Sam with Billy outside the balloon basket, at their concert and singing at the ceilidh.
‘So, while the producers and writers worked their tits off rearranging the schedule and script for you, you’re taking hot air balloon rides and singing for Brad Bauer in a pub and a bloody castle.’
Sam wanted to throw up. Just when she’d got a steady job on the UK’s most popular soap, she’d blown it.
‘But Bethany is a popular character. Are they just going to rest her for a bit? Send her to Manchester?’
Sandra shook her head. Panic made her vision flicker.
‘What are they going to do?’
Sandra picked up her vape and exhaled a long plume of sickly smoke. ‘You’re not going to like it.’
Sam gripped the edge of her chair. ‘Tell me.’
‘Ian’s character is going to push you off the top of a multi-storey car park.’
Jamie was waitingfor her as she pushed open the door to the street with a bang.
‘What happened? Are you okay?’
She was vibrating with rage and too angry to cry. She was furious at herself, the producers, the world and she wanted to kick Ian Berresford in the nuts.
‘I’m offElm Tree Laneas of the end of next week. They’re killing Bethany off.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I lied to come up to Kinloch.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘It’s fine. It’s perfect, actually.’
Everything inside her was wound so tight it was on the edge of snapping.
She forced a smile. ‘It gives us more time to concentrate on the music. And anyway, who in LA has even heard ofElm Tree Lane? I should be celebrating. I wonder where we can get a glass of Prosecco at half ten in the morning?’
‘Sam—’
‘You’re right, they’ll have champagne ready once we sign the recording contract. We might as well go there now. Best not to be late.’
She strode briskly down the street, not bothering to check if he was following or not. Her nervous system was vibrating at such a high frequency, it was like there was a swarm of wasps inside her skull, their wings thrumming frantically against her eardrums.
With each stride, she looked forwards into her future, mapping new paths, planning new routes, all of which led up the mountain of success. Jamie walked beside her. She could see him glancing at her, his mouth opening, then shutting as if he was afraid to speak.
Don’t say anything, Jamie. I’ve got this.
The offices for the record company were big, bold and new. There was more glass than building and Sam looked at the façade with dread clawing its way into her throat. As they entered the reception, she stared in horror at the glass elevator which whizzed up inside the main column of the building. There was just so much emptiness, so much height. People walking around seemed suspended in thin air. She felt Jamie’s hand on hers.
‘We can always ask them to take the meeting somewhere else?’
