Beyond the Lens Page 25

  I was in a state of shock by the time I made it to the couch and settled myself next to Dylan. Not only had I walked all the way across the room without falling in my ridiculously high heels, but I also seemed to be getting the most applause. I waved at the audience: a little gesture that would have made the queen proud. They calmed down then, so that Chelsea could speak.

  “That was quite a welcome you got there.” She smiled at me from her chair opposite us, seeming suddenly professional. I wondered whether her ditsy act while we were in Spain was just that: an act, put on to make the show seem less credible and further fool us into thinking it would never be aired. “How does it feel to be suddenly popular?”

  There was a warmth to her voice which I’d not heard before.

  “A bit weird, I guess.” I glanced around, catching sight of the huge cameras in the studio. They were imposing and intimidating, making me look back at Chelsea and slip my hand discreetly into Dylan’s.

  “I think your story is the one that’s really captured our viewers’ interest, and we’re dying to hear from you, but first, let’s take a look at some of the highlights of the week.” She turned to the screen behind her and I craned my neck to see. It made me smile watching us have so much fun, and my nerves settled slightly. Dylan gave my hand a squeeze.

  When the clip came to an end, Chelsea began firing questions at us about our week in Majorca. It was fun watching Matt attempt to maintain his cool demeanour when he was quizzed about his feelings for Chrissie. He was obviously uncomfortable answering in front of a studio audience, never mind all the people at home. When it became clear he wasn’t going to get away with sarcastic comments and avoidance tactics, he finally turned serious.

  “I think I got very lucky meeting Chrissie,” he said to Chelsea. “And you stopping me in the street might end up being the best thing that ever happened to me.” Every woman in the room gave a sigh, and Chrissie reached up to kiss him on the cheek. “But that’s enough about me!” Matt rubbed his hands together. “I bet people are dying to hear about Ryan’s romantic escapades in the house.” He grinned and the attention shifted from him to a surprisingly cool-looking Ryan.

  I was amazed when Ryan confidently answered questions, coolly complimenting Margaret when the subject came up, praising vegetarians when asked about Matilda, and then expertly moving the conversation over to Kelly. Ryan was so polished I could’ve sworn he’d done some sort of media interview training. I wish I’d thought of that too.

  It went on that way, with questions and conversation, interspersed with short clips on the screen. I think we all grew more relaxed as the hour rolled on. The boys got so carried away with their banter that Chelsea had to rein them in. Carl jumped in occasionally, his dry humour keeping the audience laughing.

  Kelly brought a tear to my eye when she talked about how close we had become, and how she felt she had six new family members.

  Margaret got choked up when she talked about leaving to go home to Australia. I had forgotten that this was just a very weird holiday for her, and she’d return to her own reality soon.

  I wasn’t sure when I’d relaxed enough to let go of Dylan’s hand, but I reached for it again when Chelsea gave me a pointed look. So far I’d got away with making just a few vague comments, but I knew she’d get back to me eventually.

  “First of all,” she looked suddenly solemn, “I think we should talk about the way you were depicted in the first airing of the show. How did you feel when you realised you’d been portrayed so badly?”

  “Angry,” I told her thoughtfully. There was absolute silence in the room. “It was a shock – even to me – that I agreed to do the show. It was so out of character for me. My plan was to hide in the background and enjoy a free holiday, but then I relaxed when I met everyone, and had an amazing time. When I got back and found it had been aired while we were away and the public hated me …” I stopped, a lump forming in my throat. “I was really angry. It felt as though my memories had been altered. I was on such a high, and then I watched myself on TV and felt sick.”

  “What kind of effect did that have on your life?”

  “People were mean to me,” I replied. “In shops, on the street, people shouted at me and told me what they thought of me. I just hid from everyone at first.”

  “That must have been a really hard time for you …”

  “Yes.” I wavered. “And no …” I thought back to the time since we’d returned from Spain and, actually, it wasn’t the negative things that came to mind. “There were a few bad days, but then I met up with my friends, which helped. The people around me have been such an amazing support. These guys, and my family, made it all bearable. And Adam,” I added without meaning to.

  “I want to ask you about Adam in a moment,” Chelsea told me. “But first, let’s have a look at your time in Spain …” She whipped around to the giant screen again and I watched my montage, tears filling my eyes while it played out.

  “That was quite a transformation we saw you go through,” Chelsea told me when it had ended. “You were so unsure of yourself when we met you, and by the end of the week you were dragging cameramen into cupboards!”

  I wiped tears from my cheeks as I laughed.

  “What was your favourite part of the week in Spain?”

  “I don’t think I could pick one thing,” I told her. “I had such a great time. I made amazing friends, and I think that was the best part of it for me. I wasn’t expecting that at all.”

  “Obviously, everyone is dying to hear about Adam.” Chelsea smiled at me. “Unfortunately he couldn’t be here today, but have you been in touch since arriving home?”

  “Yes.” I clammed up, remembering that I was mad at him. I wanted to correct her when she said he couldn’t be here. He could, but he had chosen not to come.

  “And how are things between you?” she asked.

  “I don’t really want to talk about Adam,” I asserted. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

  “I think everyone would love to know if you see a future with Adam.”

  “I don’t know,” I told her honestly, prompted by murmurs from the audience. “He’s going back to Spain to do more filming, so I guess we’ll just see what happens. We’ve not known each other very long, so it’s difficult to say how a long-distance relationship will work.”

  “Well, I think it’s safe to say everyone is behind you,” Chelsea told me, her fake smile annoying me.

  “I don’t think everyone is behind us, actually,” I told her, my anger bubbling to the surface. “You and your team at RDT have messed around with our lives. None of you are interested in us. You only care about ratings and money. We’ve not even had an apology!”

  “The team at RDT are extremely grateful for the part you’ve all played in creating an extremely successful TV show,” Chelsea told us. “And I can tell you that, to show our appreciation, you will each receive ten thousand pounds!” Her voice rose and she started clapping at the mention of money.

  “I wasn’t asking for thanks,” I said, my voice getting lost in the applause that rippled around the studio. “I wanted an apology.” I looked at the rest of my gang, who were clearly excited by the money. I guess it was as close I was going to get to an apology, and I wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially since I was currently unemployed.

  When the audience settled down again, Chelsea looked at Dylan and opened her mouth before stopping suddenly, touching her earpiece as though someone had shouted in her ear. She smiled blankly while we waited for her to go on.

  “Sorry, but could we just go back to Lucy for a second? According to our producers, they met Adam this morning and he declined the offer of the job in Spain …” She trailed off and stared at me.

  “I don’t know anything about that,” I told her awkwardly. “And I’m not sure I trust your producers,” I said, a vision of Jessica springing to mind.

  “I can understand that,” she said. “But if Adam wasn’t going to Spain, woul
d that change how you saw your future with him?” She looked slightly smug and I really didn’t want to talk to her. I wanted to talk to Adam and find out if what she had said was true – and, if so, why he’d turned the job down.

  “I really don’t know,” I snapped in response. “I’ve not got anything else to say. Talk to someone else.” She looked slightly taken aback, but moved on to talk to Dylan. “Sorry,” I said suddenly, getting to my feet and wobbling as I remembered I was wearing shoes I couldn’t walk in. “I need to go.”

  Chelsea glared at me. “You can’t just leave.”

  “I need to go and find Adam,” I confessed. A murmur of approval washed around the room.

  “You have to be here for the show,” Chelsea told me firmly. I should never have signed that stupid contract, I thought in frustration.

  “The show’s nearly over. Who really cares?” I asked. The audience cheered their support.

  Chelsea had her finger on her earpiece again. She clearly had no clue what to do, and was losing control of the show.

  “If you get me a portable camera, I’ll go with her,” Carl offered.

  “That would be acceptable.” Chelsea nodded.

  “You’re kidding!” I said, looking from Chelsea to Carl. “Oh, whatever. Come on, Carl.” I tottered across the studio floor and headed backstage. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” I confided to Carl once we were off stage. The adrenalin would probably wear off any minute and I’d realise that I was about to make a fool of myself.

  I waited while people ran around giving Carl various pieces of equipment before we dashed through the building and out of a back door.

  “Oh no!” Carl sighed dramatically when we reached the car park. I realised I didn’t have my phone with me, and I had no idea where Adam was or how I would find him.

  “What?” Carl pulled his earpiece out and moved the camera away from his face, tapping it gently.

  “I don’t think this thing’s working properly.” He shrugged. “I need to go and get a different one. Don’t go anywhere without me, will you?” He winked and turned to go back inside.

  “Carl,” I called to him. “Where will he be?”

  “I’m sure you’ll find him if you look hard enough!” His grin lit up his face and I squinted at him in confusion. He gave me a quick wave and disappeared the way we’d come.

  My feet were killing me so I slipped off my shoes. I was just wondering what my next move should be when a wolf-whistle drew my attention. I followed it to the figure leaning casually on a car bonnet at the far side of the car park.

  “Nice sunglasses,” I commented when I reached him.

  “I’m incognito,” he explained. “Due to the ‘where’s Adam?’ campaign that’s going around the internet.”

  “Would I get a reward for handing you in?”

  “Probably,” he said coyly. There was silence. “So my dad just called to tell me I’m an idiot …”

  “A geek and an idiot? He must be very proud.”

  He looked sheepish. “He asked me why you were on TV holding hands with Dylan and I was nowhere in sight.”

  I felt anger rising up in me again. “I don’t think you’re in any position to say anything about me holding hands with Dylan!”

  “I realise that,” he said flatly, pulling off his sunglasses and taking a step towards me. I drew away from him.

  “I wouldn’t have had to hold Dylan’s hand if you’d been there,” I shot at him, tears springing to my eyes.

  “I think that was my dad’s point too.”

  “Just stop!” I shouted at him, holding up a hand. I knew that if he touched me my anger would fade to something else entirely – and I needed him to listen to me.

  “Okay.” He raised his hands and stayed put.

  “You should’ve been there for me,” I told him.

  “I know,” he replied, taking another step towards me and then stopping when I glared at him. “I’m an idiot.”

  “Yes! You are. Are you going to Spain?”

  “Yes. But I—”

  I cut him off. “Okay. Well, that’s fine.” My tone completely contradicted my words.

  “Not for the job,” he said, stepping forward and putting a hand to my face when I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer.

  "What do you mean?"

  “I’m just going for a holiday,” he said with a smile. “Just for a few days. I need a break. I turned down the job, though.”

  “Good.” I sniffed, my voice filled with relief. “I didn’t want you to move to Spain.”

  “You could have told me that before! I wasn’t going to accept it at all until you started saying what a great opportunity it was and practically packed my bags for me.”

  “I didn’t want you to turn it down because of me,” I told him.

  “I don’t want to be away from you.” He leaned back so he could look me in the eye. “But that’s not the only reason I turned it down. I like the freedom of working freelance, and if I take the permanent contract I’ll feel like they own me. I wouldn’t have time to do any of my photography.”

  I felt a smile spread over my face. “I’m so glad you’re not moving to Spain,” I said, moving my face to his and kissing him deeply. “When are you going on holiday? How long for?”

  “Tomorrow,” he said, a look on his face that I couldn’t read. “Just for four days.”

  “Okay,” I said with a smile. “I think I can cope without you for four days.”

  He enveloped me in a huge hug before suggesting we move before someone came to find us.

  “What’s this?” I squinted at some tickets that lay on the passenger seat.

  “Tickets for my holiday,” he told me.

  “But this one’s got my name on it.”

  “I thought you might like to come with me, but since you said you’d be fine without me I can just get a refund.” He reached out to take the ticket from me. I grinned as I whipped it away from him. “Will you come with me?” he asked, his face filled with uncertainty.

  “Yes.”

  “Really?” he said. “I didn’t know if it was too soon…”

  “It’s not as though it’ll be the first time I’ve been on holiday with you!”

  Epilogue

  “Did you talk to Matt?” I asked Chrissie. She was washing her hands in the airport toilets, and I leaned against the sink next to her.

  “Yeah. I told him I want to wait.”

  He’d asked her to move in with him, and Chrissie had been unsure.

  “It’s really soon, and I don’t want to rush into it. It’s a big step. I think it’s better to wait.”

  “You’re probably right. How did he take it?”

  “Okay.” She shrugged. “He’ll get over it. I can’t believe Margaret is leaving.” Chrissie slipped her arm through mine while we walked back into the terminal.

  “I know. This might be the last time all seven of us are together.”

  “Don’t say that!” she snapped. “She’ll be back.”

  “I hate goodbyes!” Margaret said when we walked up to her. “Quick hugs, and then I’m off to see what it’s like in the first-class lounge! It’s going to be weird to be back home and not be recognised wherever I go. You’ll all come and visit, won’t you?” She gave Ryan a quick hug, then moved on to Dylan.

  “I’ll be on my way as soon as the media attention dies down,” Kelly promised her. “I just need to ride out this celebrity wave and then I’ll be over to surf the waves down under!”

  I smiled, not really able to imagine Kelly on a surfboard.

  “Don’t forget us,” I told Margaret, feeling emotional when I hugged her.

  “I couldn’t if I tried!” she said. “It’s been unbelievable. I’m going to miss you all.” She got choked up embracing Chrissie and then laughed when Matt picked her up and swung her around. We moved in for a group hug as she clung to Matt. I felt sad for her. I wasn’t sure how I would cope if I had to say goodbye to everyone. My life had changed so mu
ch in the past two months, and these people were the best friends I’d ever known.

  “Right, I’m going!” She extracted herself from us and hurried away, her backpack over one shoulder. She turned on the escalator to wave at us, and we saw tears streaming down her face. We stood shoulder to shoulder, waving back at her until she was out of sight.

  “And then there were six,” Matt commented when we headed for the exit. “Please don’t!” he shouted suddenly at a middle-aged man nearby. “We’re having a moment; can’t we get five minutes’ peace? No photos! Just put the camera away and leave us alone!”

  I giggled and Chrissie elbowed Matt in the ribs. This was his latest joke; whenever he saw anyone with a camera, he’d either strike a pose or raise a hand to his face and tell them not to take photos.

  “You’re quite embarrassing to be out in public with,” I told him.

  “Don’t talk to me, Lucy. You’re in my bad books. I’m not even sure I can look at you! I don’t know how it’s going to be at work. Just pretend you don’t know me in the staff room, okay?” I was volunteering as a classroom assistant at Matt’s school three days a week. I’d decided that, with the money from the TV show as a cushion, I could work part-time for a while and get some experience in a school to see if teaching was something I wanted to pursue. I wasn’t sure what it would be like to spend so much time with Matt, but at least I wasn’t in his classroom. I’d found a job in a café two days a week too: a family-owned place with a nice homely atmosphere.

  “What have I done now?” I asked Matt.

  “My girlfriend chose you over me,” he told me. “Seems she’d rather cuddle up to you every night than me!”

  “What are you talking about?” I looked at him and Chrissie, bemused.