My eyes narrow at this. ‘Not everyone in economy class is disrespectful,’ I reply, slightly insulted. Until very recently I was an economy-class kind of person. Or, rather, I would have been if we’d ever had any money to go on overseas holidays.
Sam nods, missing the point. ‘Maybe not. But it’s happened enough times for me to be very choosy about where I go, who I spend time with. Trust doesn’t come easily. From who to talk to, to who to get close to. It hurts when you tell a girl you love her and then she tells the media the next day.’
‘Has that happened?’ I ask.
He takes a deep breath, lets it out in one long sigh. ‘Yeah. Once. But once is too many times.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I tell him. ‘You make being a celebrity sound awful.’
‘It can be. I’m used to it. It has its ups and downs.’
I give him a sympathetic smile and Sam gives me a charming one in return. If he asks me back to his room, I doubt very much I’m going to turn him down. Yes, he’s a bit up himself, but he’s also kind of cute with it. Sam Charlton is not a long-term prospect. And I doubt he sees me as one, either. He’s a one-night thing. This is only for tonight. And … it’s been so long since I’ve slept with anyone, I might just go for it. Because, why not?
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Ollie
I tap out a jovial-soundingNow who’s ghosting who?message to Aury, seeing as she hasn’t responded to the text I sent yesterday. Maybe she’s giving me a taste of my own medicine, which would be fair. I didn’t reply for an eternity. She’s only been hard to reach for a matter of hours. I hit send and wait for something – anything. This is agonising. I wonder if she felt the same way, waiting for me to respond for all those months. Probably not.
‘Jesus Christ,’ Ben shouts from the kitchen and I jog along the corridor to our under-decorated lounge. He’s probably shouting at the football, but the TV isn’t on. Instead he’s pointing to his laptop. ‘Look at this.’
I sit next to him on the sofa and worry that this is going to be porn or something. Instead it’s a picture of … I blink: what am I looking at?
‘It’s Aurora,’ Ben says as if I’ve suddenly gone stupid, which I think I have.
‘Oh,’ I say slowly, because it is her. Although I can’t really tell, because her mouth is sealed to another man’s mouth.They’re standing in a lift, his arms around her, and the kiss is full-on.
‘What is this?’ I ask.
‘Daily Mail,’ Ben says simply. ‘Sidebar of shame. Aurora’s on the sidebar of shame. How cool is that?’
My stomach lurches. I think I’m going to be sick. ‘How do you know it’s her?’ It might not be. It might not be her.
‘“Reality-TV star-turned-presenter Sam Charlton and model Aurora Miller pictured in the Beverly Hills Hotel in California”,’ Ben reads.
‘Oh,’ I say again, quieter now.
‘They’re going upstairs in that lift,’ Ben comments, leaning towards his screen to squint closely at the image. ‘Yeah … look, one of those upper-floor buttons is lit up. They’re going up.’
My face flushes hot, my sinuses stab with pain – a sure-fire sign I’m about to throw up. I stand, move far away from the laptop and begin jogging down the corridor to our bathroom. Behind me I can hear Ben’s excitement continue with, ‘I’m calling Liv. Then I’m calling Aurora. You want to listen in?’
No, I think, before throwing up in the toilet.No, I absolutely do not want to listen in.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Ben can’t get hold of Aurora, but I hear him and Liv squealing with excitement down the phone to each other. There’s a mix of awe, pride and disbelief. I drop into the call to say a quick hello to Liv once I’ve finished vomiting, and I attempt to ground the conversation with normality, asking about her and James. They’re off on holiday to Turkey, so I try to talk about that, but Liv gives up on me, asking me to put Ben back on the line so that they can squeal at each other again about Aurora. At least these two are on speaking terms again, good and proper.
When Ben finishes the call I say, ‘I thought you didn’t want anyone getting together with Aury.’ I attempt to make this sound light, breezy, but I can hear the failing in my own voice. ‘You made a whole thing of it that night at her party.’
Ben looks up at me. ‘What?’ he says distractedly. He’s busy, once again, scrolling through the photos of Aury. He’s online, searching for more images elsewhere now. To no avail.
‘You didn’t want anyone getting with Aury,’ I repeat. ‘So why are you so excited about her getting with this Sam Charlton? Surely you’d be pissed off?’ I can’t get my head around his reaction.
He looks up from his screen. ‘I don’t want anyone Iknowto get with her. That’s just odd. Mad. Sickening, really. Someone I know going where I’ve been – like a fucked-up game of compare-and-contrast.’ He shakes his head in disgust. ‘But I don’t know Sam Charlton. Or, rather, I do, because I’ve seen him on TV loads. Sam Charlton is sleeping with Aurora, by the looks of things, and she’s the most serious girlfriend I’ve ever had. That’s pretty cool. That’s a story.’
‘A story for who?’ I ask in bafflement.
‘For anyone,’ Ben says, continuing to scroll. ‘Yeah, you know the model Aurora Miller, yeah, that’s her … dating Sam Charlton. I used to date her too back in the day. We were pretty serious. See? A story.’
