Page 33 of Between Us

At once, it came to her: a notion that was absolutely, wildlyludicrous, and at the same time, had the magic slam-dunk click of the right answer. No? Surely, no?

Wine unlocked Roisin’s mouth before she could stop herself. ‘Uhm. Are you Amelia Lee?’

No one spoke.

Ruby blinked rapidly at Roisin, looking almost affronted, as if she’d been cat-called by a lairy street pedlar in a market.

‘Yes? Didn’t Matthew say?’

Roisin gulped. Wait. What? Was this really happening? She couldn’t be? Roisin had said the daftest thing imaginable, and this woman was agreeing with her?

‘I thought your name was Ruby?’

‘Pet name. Family name. Due to the hair,’ she said, riffling it with her fingertips. She returned to nuzzling Granville.

‘Fucking hell,’ Meredith said, and if Amelia Lee heard her, she didn’t show it.

20

The air pressure in the room dramatically shifted in the way it only can when everyone comprehends that a very, very famous person is present.

It was akin to a plane suddenly plummeting a few thousand feet and the oxygen masks tumbling out.

At least, Roisinassumedthis was the way it always was: this had never happened to her before, unless you counted the time they saw Mick Hucknall from afar in a Spinningfields pizzeria.

Amelia ‘Milly’ Lee wasn’t reality star or soap opera famous, she was the real deal: cinema-marquee, name-up-in-lights, her-last-alleged-boyfriend-was-Tom-Cruise famous.

She’d recently moved up to lead role status – starring in a film about a World War Two seductress spy that Joe and Roisin had seen on a now-rare date night. Joe had pulled apart its poor plotting – and Roisin, its sexism – in the pub afterwards.

Here she was, a couple of feet away, asking the hired muscle guy in the doorway to ‘fetch Granny his organic venison biltong’.

A catfish was a concealed identity? Ohhhh. Roisin yearned to say,Matt! I know what you meant!So ‘Ruby’ was the Hinge pseudonym. She catfished him as a celebrity undercover as a citizen.

‘Were you really on Hinge?’ Meredith said, asking the question they all wanted to ask, because frankly why the hell not. Roisin felt like she was tripping off her tits.

Amelia threw an appraising look at Matt for his indiscretion. ‘Sure,’ she said, flintily. ‘Why not?’

‘Don’t they have a dating site for famous people to meet other famouses? No offence, Matt, but you’re just … Matt,’ Meredith said to him.

Matt twinged a smile and Roisin felt for him. Once again, she could see how little of this he’d intended. Once again, it probably wasn’t going to save him from the consequences.

‘That’s Raya. I’m on there too.’ She played with Granville’s ears and snuffled his head. ‘But, let me tell you …’ She paused, hand outstretched, and Meredith took a beat to suss she was meant to supply her name.

‘Meredith.’

‘Meredith… there are someslimy motherfuckers…’ She slipped into full American drawl, for a moment. ‘… out there, who want to date actresses. Star fuckers, you know what I mean?’

She made a face, like she was meaningfully confiding. Meredith replied with a terrified, automatic, ‘Yes,’ which almost gave Roisin hysterics.

‘It was nice meeting real, down to earth, honest guys who wanted to meet Ruby,’ Amelia concluded.

‘And also, Matt!’ Joe said, trying for his first Joe Powellish witticism since her arrival.

Amelia simply stared at him, like he’d guffed.

‘Would any of you mind terribly if we closed the curtains?’ Amelia said. ‘I very much doubt any picture agency would send anyone anywhere this remote, but it’d be such a bore if they did.’

‘Yeah, we do mind,’ Gina said suddenly, making backs straighten. ‘We also mind you telling us we can’t use our phones, and which bedrooms you and your bouncers want.’

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