I’d earned enough money to delay finding a real job for a few years. I’d co-written a handful of songs for a German pop group who were huge in Europe, which paid reasonable royalties until one of their singers was found guilty of getting handsy with underage fans and radio stations ditched them.
But it wasn’t only the money I missed from my old life, it was the acclaim. It was the magazine covers, the parties, the fine-dining restaurants, the camera flashes, the awards shows, the other celebs, the free, limitless wardrobes, the hotels, the holidays ... everything that came with being famous. I knew who I was then.
I wanted it all back. Until I got it. And then fame became infamy.
A passing car draws me out of another of my all-too-frequent wallows in my ruined career. It parks outside Liv’s house and Liv herself exits. Why she can’t park on a drive with room for at least five vehicles is beyond me. Instead of going inside, she rings Anna’s bell instead. Are they meeting without me?
I survey this empty room and the empty hours that I’ll need to fill.
‘Balls to this,’ I mutter to myself.
I grab the cupcakes Tommy made at school yesterday and open the front door. The sudden movement scares a cat taking a shit in our borders. It’s that bloody furball of Liv’s. It turns to glare at melike I’m the one in the wrong. I clap my hands and it scampers back home.
I’m about to head across the street to see what I might be missing out on when I spot the side of my car. One word has been daubed across it in red paint.
Murderer.
Chapter 11
Anna
‘Oh hi,’ I begin when I find Margot on my doorstep.
She looks a little like someone trying to disguise they’re flustered. I spot red paint on her fingers and catch a whiff of white spirits. The smell makes me want to recoil.
‘You’ve left your garage door open,’ she says.
I turn and see it is, indeed, rolled to the top.
‘Drew,’ I tut. ‘He’s always forgetting to close it. I keep telling him it’s open invitation to be robbed but he never listens.’
She shoves a plastic food box into my chest.
‘My calorie-counting app tells me I’ve had enough trans fats for one day. And as you aren’t so bothered by your appearance, I thought I’d share these, if you’re not too busy tinkering?’
I hold back from informing her that yes, I do care about my appearance, and no, I’m not ‘tinkering’ but designing and creating jewellery, which is how I make my living. And then I notice she’s not making eye contact with me. She’s looking behind me. She’s spotted Liv in my kitchen. That’s why she’s here. She has FOMO.
‘Oh look, Liv’s here,’ Margot says.
I have little choice but to move to one side because she’s already crossing the threshold. I thought vampires couldn’t enter a house without an invitation.
It’s when I turn to go back inside that I spot a white envelope shoved part way through the door. The name it’s addressed to catches me unawares, as I haven’t used it in years. Then I recognise the blue-stamped postmark. I open it and skim the contents. It’s an appointment date nine months from now. It’s taken more than two years and three cancellations to get this far. But now a date has been attached to it, I’m not sure how I feel. I’m also unsure if I’ll mention this to Drew. He has it in his head that it will solve all my problems. He won’t accept it doesn’t work like that. I stuff the letter into my pocket.
‘Hello Liv,’ I hear Margot saying even more chirpily than when she greeted me. ‘How are you?’
Liv is hunched over the kitchen island, working her way through an array of necklaces and bracelets I’ve laid out in front of her on velvet sheets.
‘What a lovely surprise.’ Liv smiles as they air-kiss one another. ‘Anna didn’t mention you’d be joining us?’
‘I’ve been meaning to see her latest little creations for ages.’
That’s news to me. I’ve tried to show her my work a couple of times before. Once she broke a clasp, and the second time she told me a pendant reminded her of an orange poo emoji.
‘Look at these, aren’t they incredible?’ Liv enthuses. ‘She’s so talented.’
‘She certainly is,’ says Margot, I suspect through gritted teeth. ‘They’re ... neat.’
Strange choice of words.
