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Chapter 48
‘You sure you can trust that Devan?’ asked Rufus, from his usual spot on the sofa.
He waved his phone in Alyssa’s direction. She was cowering in an armchair as she scrolled through the breaking news on hers.
It was less than two hours since she’d had the painful video call with Devan, and fresh gossip had just broken online. One news group was reporting the ‘latest ’Appy Together scandal’ was that she and Devan had had a gigantic falling-out and she’d fled Hartglove, refusing to complete the final, unknown love task and calling Devan’s app ‘a load of fake turd’.
It didn’t even sound like something she would say. Did that at least mean the troll couldn’t know her well? Because she assumed this was the evil handiwork of whoever that was.
‘Of course I trust him,’ said Alyssa, sinking further into her pink hoodie as she read. ‘The timing is just a coincidence. It’s not like this reflects our actual conversation.’
Her soul was sinking at the fact that, if Devan saw this, it would add to his fears that she didn’t trust him, and that she’d legged it for good. She’d tried to message him, but he hadn’t opened it.
She did trust Devan, implicitly. But this situation had shaken her – made her question everything. And she couldn’t help wondering who else Devan might have spoken to about what was going on, however innocently. He wasn’t as used to this online life as she was. And she wasn’t used to opening up to people and how vulnerable that made her feel. She hated having to doubt anyone, but her mind needed to work things through logically if she wanted to find answers. And there was a limited number of people who knew enough to make trouble.
Teijo had been messaging both her and Rufus to find out what on earth was going on. He was not over the moon about things, so presumably he wasn’t behind this – although all sense of reason was beginning to evade her. Her head was a jungle.
‘I’m going to lie down.’
‘Hey, we’ll get through this.’ The look of almost genuine concern on Rufus’s face touched her. Almost genuine were as deep as his feelings got, and she understood that. She used to be the same. ‘Every cloud, right?’
‘Right,’ she said feebly. She was struggling to see any silver linings to this shit show, and she simply wanted to sleep.
She didn’t know how long she’d been sleeping when she heard the banging on her bedroom door, but it was light outside, so in her misery she must have slept through the night.
‘It’s me, and I think I’ve found your silver lining.’
She sat up and straightened herself, pulling the duvet around her even though she was still fully clothed.
‘Come in.’
Rufus flapped into the room like an excited chicken, reeling off what he called ‘the best news since Khloé Kardashian tried copper tones’.
And perhaps she should have been more excited. She should have jumped out of bed and danced the Macarena, insisting on celebratory apple-themed cake. But as he regaled her with the offers of work that were apparently flooding in now she was a ‘fallen angel’ with a healthy bit of scandal brewing, she just felt sick. Since the incorrect reports that she’d blown off ’Appy Together and caused outrage, she was being headhunted for various celebrity reality TV gigs.
Rufus was seeing the pound signs, and if this had happened a few months ago she would have been bouncing off the walls on a pogo stick. This had been exactly the thing she’d wanted, hadn’t it? Being well known for what she did. Being sought out. Creating an impact, building her reputation.
She looked around at Rufus’s spare room. If she dragged herself to the window, she would see life outside. Canary Wharf, with its tall, sparkling buildings, the waterside with its luxurious boats. People busying by with their impressive lives or stopping to shop or dine. There was a time she would have loved to live somewhere like this. If she took up these offers, she could probably afford to – without having to resort to a wealthy bloke.
But as she looked at Rufus’s array of freakish celebrity dolls and discarded butt-lift machines, it was like a weird reflection of the superficiality of it all. She couldn’t think of anything worse than spending her time doing TV shows in jungles, being forced to eat witchetty grubs with the latest fallen politician, or prancing around an island in some dreadful bikini.
She didn’t want any of that. She craved the quiet but quirky town life she’d been beginning to become a part of. Cosy nights in with Devan, watching romcoms and giving them ratings for their glorious cheesiness. Morning strolls in Hartglove, bumping into Jess for a chat about the weather, or popping to the shared garden to check on her broad beans and have an al fresco cuppa with Mrs H and Horace. Discovering Anna Farina’s latest flavour of tiramisu, always served with a buon appetito. Or treating herself to pie and chips with Sylvie at The Rat and Raspberry, reminiscing on the days when they’d worn crop tops and worshipped Katy Perry. Simple, happy pleasures, with no desire to make a false impression and no one to judge you if your nails looked ugly.
Rufus was rubbing his hands together, which brought her annoyingly back to the present.
‘Which offers are we interested in? All of them? Shall I play them off against each other?’
Was that plastic doll of Ryan Gosling winking at her? She rubbed her forehead. Not even the thought of a gorgeous Gosling could cheer her up.
‘No! Thank you. I need time to think.’
Rufus’s face dropped. ‘You are into these deals though? I mean, that lowly life in the arse end of nowhere, living in a pig pen and pretending to go out with an ex who once dumped you, isn’t your style.’ He rearranged the curly plastic hair of an Alicia Keys doll, smiling a little too fondly, his jaw beginning to tighten. ‘You were made for so much more.’
He said the last words through gritted teeth, and a strange, cold feeling crept across Alyssa’s skin. Had she been missing something? An odd new suspicion was starting to percolate.
‘It’s a converted barn, not a pig pen.’ Alyssa pushed herself out of bed. Maybe she’d believed Rufus had been kind in putting her up, but she didn’t have to listen to his drivel. ‘And that life was my style. I just have to find a way to get back to it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get ready.’
She ushered her agent out of the room, resisting his protestations. She needed space to think. Because even when the universe had just thrown her what looked like a sparkly bone, she didn’t want one bite. All that glittered was absolutely not gold.
