‘Let’s get this chorus, Ava,’ Netta had chuckled, pulling her up and using Ava’s water bottle as a microphone. If anyone had walked in, they’d have seen two women, on opposite ends of the age spectrum, belt out ‘Think Twice’ as if their lives depended on it. And they were both so truly bloody brilliant, Celine Dion could indeed be their maw. If she was approximately ninety-two in Netta’s case.
Now, standing at the back of the auditorium, behind two hundred other people, it was Netta who had tears falling down her face. She’d had no idea that any of that had been filmed. She didn’t know if Ava had got the part she was auditioning for.
But what she did know?
Mandy had asked her this morning where the young Netta had gone to. Well, there was her answer.
That was the young Netta McGonigle up there on the screen belting out the chorus of ‘Think Twice’ for the whole world to hear.
27
KIKI
Kiki had no idea how she’d done it, but somehow she’d made it to the Academy. And she was pretty sure that if anyone had caught her sprint and posted it on social media, she’d be getting a call from the Scottish athletics selection panel to run in the next Commonwealth Games. Which was just as well, because she wouldn’t be getting called up toScotland’s Next Top Modelany time soon, a sentiment confirmed when she’d caught her wild-haired, pink-faced reflection as she flew past the entrance-foyer mirrors. Slowing to a sprint-walk, she’d lurched in the door of the auditorium just a few moments before they’d closed it. There had been a couple of other people standing at the back, but there had been one free seat at the end of the row to her right, so she’d untucked her dress from her knickers and slipped in there.
Her first instinct had been to search for Ava.Please let me find her. Please let me find her… Yes!
There she was, sitting down at the front in a row of other teenagers that Kiki assumed were fellow students. She didn’t know for sure, because Ava had never brought anyone home for her to meet. Kiki understood. She had a few work friends, but she’d never invited anyone back to their flat either. It was bad enough that she had to climb ten flights of stairs, without asking someone to pop round for a glass of wine and mentioning that they might need oxygen to make it up to the front door. That thought had taken her back to Mr Tavish. Hopefully they’d got him to the hospital safely and they were fixing whatever was wrong with him. Poor old stubborn soul.
For a moment, she’d wondered if she should try to go down and let Ava know that she was there, but she hadn’t wanted to embarrass her when she was with her friends, so she’d just fired off a text and hoped that Ava had her phone with her, that it wasn’t on silent and that she would see the text and open it.
Next priority had been to search for him, so she’d scanned the theatre again. No sign of him, but there was an empty row at the side of the stage that she’d assumed was reserved for VIPs. That made sense. While her phone was open, she’d flicked to his Instagram story and, yes, there he was, on the red carpet at the front of the Academy, telling the interviewer how proud he was to be there. She’d felt a knot of disgust begin to form in her stomach and wondered how so much love could morph into so much resentment. He didn’t deserve all that adulation. He shouldn’t have the swanky life and the acclaim and the plaudits and all these people thinking how wonderful he was, not when he’d left a lifetime of broken promises behind him.
At that moment, her determination to face him had escalated north another notch. She just didn’t want to do it while looking like she had, quite literally, run a 5K to get here.
She’d quickly unzipped her bag and pulled out her make-up compact, thanking the heavens that she’d thrown it in there that morning. She’d dabbed the sweat off her face, then used the other side of the sponge to apply some foundation. Next, she’d found a slightly worse-for-wear lipstick at the bottom of her bag and dabbed that on too, but it had completely dried out and had no effect. If the people sitting next to her in the row had wondered why she was basically giving herself an impromptu makeover, they were too polite to say. However, two women in the row in front were less reserved.
‘Were you in a rush to get here from your work, love?’ the older one had said knowingly.
Kiki had figured this wasn’t the moment to try to explain, so she’d gone with it. ‘I was, but I made it. Just need to sort myself out now.’
The stranger had very kindly taken it upon herself to help.
‘Georgie, give me your make-up bag a second,’ she’d said to the younger woman next to her. ‘And here…’ She’d delved into a backpack at her feet and then turned back to Kiki. ‘I’m a hairdresser and I never travel without my emergency kit. You can borrow this, love.’
Before Kiki could object, the older lady had passed back a black nylon toiletry bag and the other woman had added a make-up bag to the pile on Kiki’s knee. She’d decided that she could either spend the next few minutes objecting, or making the best of it, and she’d gone with the second option. In the bigger bag, the dry shampoo, brushes and some grooming wax allowed her to slick her hair back into a stylish ponytail, while the blusher, bronzer and cream lipstick palette in the make-up bag had fixed her face. A squirt of Chanel No.5 from the bag had permeated out in a cloud around her but no one seemed to mind.
Four minutes later, she’d handed everything back. ‘Thank you so much…’
‘Jessie,’ the woman had filled the blank. ‘And yer very welcome. You look lovely, doesn’t she, Georgie?’
The woman who’d provided the make-up bag had turned around, and Kiki had seen then that she was pregnant. ‘Oh, you do. But then, with that face, I’m sure you were lovely already.’ It had been said with such unexpected kindness that Kiki had felt her eyes well up. Compliments didn’t come her way often, and especially on a day like today, it had taken her by surprise.
‘Thank you.’ Before she could say any more, the women’s attention had been taken by someone at the other end of the row, who’d just arrived. Kiki hadn’t been able to see her face as she was already in her seat, but she’d heard her hiss something about looking for a power bank to charge her phone. Good to know that she wasn’t the only one who was a tad disorganised.
Okay, breathe, she’d told herself. That’s when the one thing guaranteed to make it impossible for her to breathe had happened. A door at the side of the stage had opened, and in trooped a long line of people, some of whom Kiki had recognised immediately. Actors. Actresses. A comedian. A couple of singers. And then, there he was. Right there. In her mind, she’d stood up, shouted at him, demanded to be seen, but of course that hadn’t happened in real life – not because she wanted to spare him the embarrassment, but because she had too much self-respect to act like that. That hadn’t stopped her insides from burning, though, from indignation, from fury and – now that she was in the same room as him – from the memory of how much she’d loved him. And how much he’d promised that he loved her.
The next few minutes had passed in a blur of a speech and then moving cameras and countdowns and gasps from the audience, until her much-needed breath had finally come when the lights had dimmed and she could see nothing but the screen in front of her.
That’s how it had been for the next hour. Just her staring at the screen in a daze, not really taking in what was going on, only occasional brief glimpses of Ava strong enough to burst through her fog. Then, a few moments before, a scene had snapped her to attention. Ava had appeared up there, sitting in a canteen, biting her bottom lip just the way she’d done since she was a three-year-old toddler, anxious about her first day in nursery.
The camera had caught the lady who worked in the canteen sliding her a biscuit, and Kiki had been grateful for the kindness. The woman had briefly featured in several moments already, but Kiki hadn’t taken any notice, too busy keeping her brain from replaying fifteen years of a relationship that had apparently run its course.
By the time the scene had switched to this theatre, where the coaches were auditioning the students for roles in the upcoming Christmas show, she’d been fully engaged. Ava had told her that she’d auditioned, but there was something else. She’d said it hadn’t gone well, and as Kiki stared straight ahead, she watched that play out on the screen. Ava was running from the audition, frantic, and the sight of that had made Kiki’s soul ache. The shot had switched to the canteen, and the audience saw Ava burst in there, her first reaction to run to the lady who’d shown her kindness earlier.
‘I messed it up. I messed it up. I messed it up. Oh God, Netta, I messed…’
Hang on… Netta?
