Page 22 of Take the Lead
If only.
‘I’d be much easier to replace than he would,’ I sigh. ‘The stupid thing is, I didn’t want to do the show in the first place, but now I think they’re going to get rid of me, I don’t want to go. Not like this, anyway.’
I’d just started feeling like I was getting my mojo back after weeks of despondency. I don’t want to say goodbye to it now.
I start welling up again and Lucy reaches over to give my hand a comforting squeeze. ‘Have you heard from Merle yet?’ she asks, her voice full of sympathy.
I shake my head and look away, determined not to cry.
‘I’m sorry, Kate. I feel like it’s all my fault for getting you into this in the first place.’
‘Don’t be daft – you couldn’t have predicted this would come out of it.’
‘I’m still sorry though,’ she sighs.
‘I just wish I knew who took those bloody photos.’ I cross my arms and stare out of the window. ‘I’d bloody killthem. All I can think about is all the people who … they’ll be looking at my face when they’re talking to me, but it’s those pictures they’ll really be seeing. It makes me feel ill.’
‘You don’t have to deal with it today,’ she soothes. ‘We can just chill out here and I’ll get Aiden to bring a takeaway over later, if you like.’
‘Yeah, that’d be good.’ I offer up a weak smile. ‘Thank you, Luce.’
‘I know it feels really shitty right now, but you will move past this,’ she says gently.
I so want her to be right, but right now I can’t share her conviction. How does anyone get over something like this?
‘And if you are cut from the show tomorrow, at least you won’t have to deal with everyone there,’ she adds, in a sweet attempt to lighten the mood. ‘Every cloud, and all that.’
After that, she allows me to wallow. We spend the rest of the day curled up on opposite ends of the sofa watching films. Or sitting in front of films, I should say – they definitely don’t have my full attention. My mind keeps drifting to those online stories, the email from Shane and that image of Merle’s wife.
I know I should hate Merle, but my heart also aches when I think about how differently things could have worked out. It’s the first time since Ed that I’ve been excited about someone, that I’ve opened myself up to the idea of getting close to someone again. I hadn’t even realised how much I wanted that. Or how hard I’d been avoiding it since Ed, so I couldn’t get hurt again. I can’t believe I’ve managed to get it so wrong again.
Why couldn’t Merle just have been one of the good guys? Like Aiden, who, bless him, arrives early with not just pizzas, but wine, chocolate and ice cream, too – everything a girl needs for this kind of crisis. And he doesn’t bat an eyelid about the fact that I haven’t even bothered getting dressed.
My mind is still turning everything over on repeat when I finally crawl back under my duvet. Did Merle really not give me a single clue he was married in the whole week we spent together? Was it really such a surprise that someone as attractive as him had been snapped up already?
But I wasn’t looking for it, so I didn’t see it coming. I was too dazzled by the fact that someone as hot as him was actually into me and busy daydreaming about all the amazing things we could do together. Even if all we actually did together was rehearse and have sex.
I find myself wondering if sex will ever be that good again – whether there’s anyone out there who’ll be able to make me feel like he did, but who’d be there for me in all the other ways too. And if that man does exist, will I ever find him? Or will he run a mile when he realises I’m that girl in the pictures on the bloody internet?
I push my hands into my hair and dig my fingers into my scalp, hoping that massaging it might stop my mind racing, but I can’t stop wondering how long it will be before the world forgets about those photos. How I wish I could turn back the clock and start the last seven days again.
Chapter 12
By the time my alarm goes off at seven-thirty a.m. I’ve worked my way through the entire spectrum of emotions at least five times over – embarrassment, self-pity, anger, hurt, upset – and my eyes are red and puffy from lack of sleep and the odd tear of frustration.
I wear sunglasses on the way to my meeting with Shane – even on the Tube – and I keep my hood up for the whole journey, both to hide the state I’m in and in the hope that no one will recognise me. It attracts a few curious glances but at least no random strangers start making lewd comments or shouting abuse at me.
I try to convince myself they probably haven’t seen the show anyway, so they wouldn’t even care about the weekend’s headlines, but it doesn’t make me feel any less vulnerable.
I’m a nervous wreck by the time I get to Channel 6. I wouldn’t have thought it was possible to feel more apprehensive than I did when I came to this buildingfor my very first chat aboutFire on the Dance Floor, or when I arrived for the opening show, but this is definitely worse. It feels like my heart is trying to beat its way right out of my chest as I wait for Shane in the atrium.
‘Kate. Thanks for coming in,’ he says as he strides towards me across the lobby. I hold my breath as I wait for him to deliver the blow before I’ve even had a chance to stand up, but he holds his hand out to shake mine as I scramble to my feet.
‘Follow me – we’ll head up to my office.’
So we’re not going to do this in front of anyone else. That’s something, I suppose.
‘I’m sorry,’ I start babbling as I follow him into the maze of corridors. ‘I had no idea we were being photographed, really I didn’t. Or that Merle was married. I know how bad it looks and I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I’m not like that. I just didn’t know he had a wife. I’m really sorry. I really don’t want to leave the show. I promise it won’t happen again. I mean …’
