The low yanked those stairs from me.
Midnight had hit and Ryan wasn’t there. I’d lost track of time between ten-thirty and the next hour, trying to slow down and savour what was happening, rather than looking for him to appear.
My bag and phone were checked in, so I hadn’t been able to see what was happening with the game, although I had heard that England had won.
“It’s midnight.” I looked at Lila, nerves catching in my throat. Had he changed his mind? Had he decided that being here – where he was certain to be seen by the press – was too much?
Lila raised her brows. “Let’s get your phone and find out where he is. Flights can be delayed, so don’t start being dramatic.”
I didn’t point out the irony to my friend who’d just spent the last thirty minutes dramatizing her life to an almost willing audience.
“Phone. Check.”
“How’s the awards high?”
“Falling. Phone. I don’t have a good feeling.” I headed over to where we’d checked our stuff in, a melee of people swarming round. A hand on my shoulder made me pause, one of the other actresses who’d been up for the award offering congratulations.
I managed to force a smile, pushing away thoughts of Ryan into a box so I could be gracious, kind. I didn’t want to rush away, or make her feel less because I was distracted by a man on what was probably the most important night in my career so far - even though Diana DeBianco was one of the most accoladed actresses of her generation.
“You’ve done so well with what’s happened.” She touched the top of my arm. “And you must be so worried.”
Lila appeared next to me, linking her hand through my arm. “Otter…”
“Having your friend here to support you. Lila, how’ve you managed to keep this girl smiling…”
“I don’t know…”. I looked between them, confused. Lila was no longer smiling.
“Excuse me, Diana, I need to pass on something to Otter.” She practically dragged me away, my feet struggling to keep me balanced.
“What’s happened?” Because something had.
“England won. But Ryan’s been injured.” She stopped when we were just outside the bathrooms, the hubbub a little quieter here. “I asked one of the bartenders what happened in the match. He was helped off during injury time. I don’t know any more, but he hasn’t stood you up. We need to get your phone and go!”
I nodded; my throat dry. “Can you get them for me?”
“Ticket.”
I fumbled in the convenient pocket in my dress and passed her the slip to collect my belongings. She was back, probably in about thirty seconds but it felt like an hour.
My phone had a list of missed calls and messages. None were from Ryan, but there were two from Nate.
Nate GK: Ryan’s collided with a defender and banged heads. He’s ok, but was out for a few seconds so they’re going to want to check him over before he flies home.
Nate GK: Doc’s given us the ok to fly, but we’re heading straight to MAN.
I passed my phone to Lila, not able to explain what had happened. She nodded and handed it back.
“What do you want to do? You have three choices: stay here, carry on and party, because I bet Ryan’s going to be heading straight to hospital when he lands anyway. Or, you go back to the hotel and we watch rom coms while you continuously check your phone. Or, we drive to Manchester. Your choice. I’m down for all three.”
“How would we get to Manchester?”
Lila grinned. “We have a driver.”
Somehow, by means I didn’t want to know, Lila had managed to get Calvin Hughes, the Formula One star who’d been at the awards, to give us a lift in his sports car, the back seat and tiny boot filled with all of our cases from the hotel. I was stuffed on the backseat, dresses, shoes and bags either side of me, while Lila was in the passenger seat, flirting with Calvin like this was her lifelong goal.
It possibly was. I wasn’t going to ask. Lila was either deadly serious about a man and then ended up with her heart being broken, or she used them like shiny toys for stand-up material.
I feared Calvin was going to be the latter.
