Starstruck (34 page)

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Authors: Portia MacIntosh

BOOK: Starstruck
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‘Erm,
heroine,’ I correct him, instantly biting my tongue. That’s probably one of
many things hidden in his medicine cabinet.

I
take his hand and squeeze it tightly. We have our ups and downs, and he can be
a very silly boy, but I care about him deeply.

‘How
did it go with Dylan?’ he asks. I would have thought that would be the last
thing on his mind - if he even remembered.

‘Don’t
worry about that, honey.’

‘That
bad?’

‘That
bad.’

‘Shit,
Nic. I’m sorry.’ He quickly lets go of my hand, and as I look up I see that he
is crying. I hate to see people cry but seeing Luke cry is just something else.
I’ve always seen him as this big, strong man, and right now he looks like a
helpless little boy and it is breaking my heart.

‘Come
on, don’t face get upset. You’re going to be alright, the doctor said so.’ I
feel a tears run down my face too.

‘Karma’s
a bitch,’ he laughs. Well, half laughs, half cries.

‘Oh,
Luke.’ Now I’m sobbing too. ‘Come on, Eddie will be in here any second and
he’ll laugh at us.’

‘If
he’s on his way in, he’s coming to laugh anyway,’ Luke concludes, and he’s
probably right. It’s not that Eddie doesn’t give a damn, he just won’t know
what else to do. The fact he’s coming straight over shows just how much he
cares.

Someone
walks in through the door behind us, it’s Frank.

‘Alright
lad?’ he asks in the same fake cheery tone that I used.

‘Yeah,
just keeping you on your toes, mate. It’s about time you did some proper work.’

‘I’ve
just spoken to the doctor, he says they’re going to keep you in for a few days
and then you can go home.’

‘Yeah,
but cracked ribs. Will I be able to drum? We’ve got the tour!’

‘You’ll
be right, lad,’ Frank assures him. ‘Few weeks and you’ll be right. Doc said.’

Oh,
it’s so nice to hear a northern accent.

‘I
hate hospitals. Let’s just go home, Nic,’ Luke says with a straight face, so I
can’t tell if he’s joking.

 ‘After
you then,’ I say, nodding towards the door, well aware of the fact he can
hardly move.

In
an attempt to take his mind off things I tell him - and Frank - all about what
happened with Dylan.

‘I’ll
kick his arse!’ Luke says, trying to sit up.

‘You
can even wipe your arse, lad,’ Frank laughs, easing him back down. ‘You’re not
supposed to be moving.’

‘Oh,
who cares?’ I say. ‘He’s going to tell everyone that I slept with him and
wrecked his marriage - his bullshit marriage to a girl whose name he didn’t
even know until after he knocked her up - and everyone is going to think I’m
this massive slag... but who cares?’

‘That’s
the spirit!’ Luke says sarcastically.

‘Why
don’t you put a statement out too?’ Frank suggests. ‘Give your side of the
story, tell everyone what really happened. Your word against his.’

‘Who
would believe me over Dylan?’ I ask. ‘We got caught in a compromising position,
everyone thinks something happened and he’s going to tell them it did.’

‘But
it’s not true,’ Luke insists.

‘Since
when did anyone care about the truth? Dill is doing this to get his wife and
kids back, he’s pretty much telling them what they want to hear. Anyway,
there’s probably going to be a photo of me in some paper tomorrow because I was
snapped leaving his house.’

‘If
there’s anything I can do to help just let me know,’ Frank says to me
sincerely.

‘Thanks.’

‘Are
you two ok if I get off?’ he asks.

‘Yeah,
we’ll be fine. I’m sure Nicole won’t be leaving me just yet.’

‘Erm,
I’m not going anywhere at all!’ I insist. ‘I’ll sleep here in this chair.’ The
chair I’m talking about is a scabby old arm chair. I suspect once upon a time
it was a nice lemon colour, but now it’s a yucky shade of brown.

‘Nic,
you don’t have to do that. You’re staying at mine - whether I’m there or not.’

‘No,
I’m staying here.’ I look over at Frank who is hanging around by the doorway,
waiting for one of us to tell him what’s happening. ‘Thanks Frank, I’m staying
here tonight, you can go.’

‘Well
you are a nurse,’ Luke jokes as soon as Frank has left us alone.

‘Unfortunately
I left my cap at home. But yes, I am a nurse of sorts.’

He
starts laughing, but this quickly turns to tears again.

‘Am
I going to be ok, Nicole?’ he sobs.

My
heart breaking for him, I take hold of his hand.

‘Of
course you’re going to be ok!’ I reassure him. ‘I’m going to stay here with
you, I promise. And then I’m going to go home with you, and I’m going to look
after you until you’re back on your feet. Literally.’ I giggle.

‘I
love you, Nicole. I mean it.’

‘Well
that’s the painkillers talking.’ I wipe his eyes.

‘No,
I mean it. I really love you. I’ve been a dick, but I’m going to turn this
around, ok?’

‘Excuse
me,’ a nurse interrupts us. ‘I’ve got an Eddie Baker here to see you if you’re
feeling up to another visitor.’

‘Yeah,
send him though.’

‘I
know I shouldn’t be saying this, but I’m a huge fan!’ the nurse says excitedly.

‘Really?’
This puts a smile on Luke’s face. ‘Remind us to sort you out with some signed
CDs before I leave.’

The
nurse goes bright red and leaves the room.

Luke
loves me, yeah right. It’s amazing what a bump to the head can do to a person.

Chapter Fifty-Six: The Statement

 

If
I’ve learnt one thing over these past few weeks it is that my body absolutely
does not agree with me sleeping on any kind of chair.

I
woke up in my uncomfortable armchair to see Joanne fussing over Luke - she is
one of the lovely nurses working on the ward. Most of the nurses have taken an
instant liking to Luke, which is lucky because Luke has taken an instant liking
to most of the nurses. I spent yesterday evening watching Eddie find reasons
for them to come in and check on Luke, which was just so much fun for me. To be
fair, they are all really nice ladies and they’re really taking care of Luke –
and me, his temporary roommate.

‘Good
morning,’ Joanna whispers to me.

‘Hey.
How’s he doing?’

‘He’s
doing ok, I’ll be bringing him his breakfast through in a minute. Can I get you
anything?’

I
ask her if the gift shop is open because I plan to head down there before Luke
wakes up. I can grab a toothbrush and something for my breakfast because I’m
not sure when the last time I ate was, and I’ll pick up a copy of that horrible
newspaper which will most likely have a photo of me outside Dylan’s house on
the front along with some horrible, yet terribly funny headline.

Creeping
out of the room so that I don’t wake Luke, I make my way to the gift shop. It
doesn’t matter what time of day it is, hospitals are creepy places. I pass one
of the hospital porters on my way down the corridor. Luckily there is nothing
on bed that he is pushing and we exchange good mornings. As he passes me my
eyes are drawn to the bottom of the sheet which appears to be covering a big
silver box and I shiver. Don’t even think about what is in that box, Nicole.

There
is a lovely little old lady working in the gift shop and we chat as I pile the
things I want on top of the counter. I tell her that I am here with my friend who
had a fall – I don’t tell her the details, obviously.

‘I
hope that’s not what you’re planning on eating for breakfast,’ she exclaims, in
the same way a loving grandma would.

I
look down at my can of Coke (not eve Diet, shameless) and packet of peanut M&Ms.

‘Erm...
peanuts are good for you, they’re full of protein.’ Something I’m fairly sure
is true, although them being covered in chocolate probably isn’t that great for
you.

She
gives me a look, a “come on, young lady, you know I’m right” look, so I swap
the Coke for a carton of orange juice, laughing at my submission.

‘Wait
there,’ she says, tottering off into the back room. While she is in there I
blindly grab tabloids off the shelf and dump them on the counter. I don’t even
glance at them, I’m going to wait until I’m with Luke – moral support.

‘We
don’t usually put these out for another couple of hours,’ the little old lady
tells me, placing a sandwich on the counter. ‘But you have to take care of
yourself, or you’ll end up in the bed next to your fella.’

I
open my mouth to protest but she stops me.

‘And
it’s on me, so no excuses.’

‘Thank
you. I’m Nicole,’ I tell her, offering a hand for her to shake.

‘Nice
to meet you, Nicole. I’m Doris.’

‘Thank
you for looking after me, Doris.’

‘You’re
very welcome, darling.’

Bagging
up my shopping, I promise her I will be back at lunch time.

Walking
back along the long corridor I make a point of looking no lower than eye level,
just in case.

Luke
is awake when I get back, being propped up in his bed by two nurses so that he
can eat his breakfast which looks absolutely rank. I’m guessing it’s porridge,
if it isn’t then it’s cement.

‘Good
morning.’ He smiles. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look more pleased to see
me.

‘Hello.’
I take the newspapers and the orange juice from my bag and sit myself on the
plastic chair next to Luke’s bed.

‘You
shouldn’t bother reading those,’ he says to me as soon as the nurses have left
the room.

‘But
I want to see if my picture looks good.’ I try to sound like I’m joking when I
say this, but to be honest this is the first photo I was ready for so I’m
hoping it looks ok.

I
grab the Daily Scoop first because not only is it the highest selling tabloid
in the UK, but they just love writing about Dylan King.

‘Sit
up here, we’ll look together,’ Luke says, carefully patting the spot next to
him on the bed. After sitting down as lightly as I possible - because at the
moment even breathing is causing him pain - I mentally psych myself to start
reading.

With
everything that has gone on over the past few weeks I have had to re-evaluate
all aspects of my life. I’ve learnt that I can’t trust people, how even
innocent situations can be made to look bad, and most importantly I’ve learned
to expect anything, because anything could be around the corner. Even so,
nothing could have prepared me for the latest chapter in the messed up story
that is my life

.
Neither of us says anything, we just read in silence. The headline reads
“Nicole Wilde – house parties, heroin and hospital” and underneath is a photo
of me and Luke, one of Carla’s from the end of tour party, the one of me
sitting on Luke’s knee, wearing nothing but that hoodie. We both look totally
wasted.

I
glance at the name underneath the headline. Vicky Mason. In my attempt to avoid
the world at all costs it didn’t occur to me to unfriend her on Facebook.

Reading
the article, it explains how - in one of many “heroin-fuelled house parties” -
I got up to “all sorts” with “Luke Fox, drummer of hot new band Two For The
Road”.

‘You
know,’ I say quietly, breaking the silence. ‘I know that I’m no angel, but if I
went outside and it was raining heroin, I wouldn’t know what it was.’

‘You
would if you inhaled.’

‘Luke,
this is not the time for jokes.’

He
snatches the paper from me as assertively as he can, dropping it on the floor
and wincing in pain at the sudden movement.

‘Don’t
read that shit. We’ll get Frank here and he’ll tell us what to do. Ok?’

‘Ok.’

 

‘On
the bright side, it’s promotion for the band that money just can’t buy,’ Frank
says before backtracking, having seen the angry look that is no doubt on my
face. ‘I mean it’s an awful story, but a pretty blonde lass wearing nowt but a
band hoodie in a paper like this...’

I
can practically see the pound signs in his eyes.

‘Are
they allowed to use a photo from a private Facebook and make up a story to go
with it?’ I ask.

‘Nicole,
you’re in the business, you must know this happens all the time?’ Frank says,
unhelpfully.

‘I
don’t care!’ I reply. ‘None of this is true at all. First of all, I didn’t tell
anyone that Luke was in here, and no one knows I’m here.’

‘Well
that could have been anyone. Famous face takes drugs, found unconscious, rushed
to hospital. It could have been the paramedic or one of these nurses.’ He picks
up the paper and reads through the story again. ‘Right,’ Frank claps his hands.
‘From what you’ve told me, Nicole, it sounds like they knew you were in town
from the photo of you at Dylan’s house, and they know you are friends with Luke
if your mate is writing for them.’

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