Page 113 of The Last Saturday In July
‘No.’ Chelsea’s eyes flashed. ‘I always know when someone is lying to me. At least Brandi didn’t bother denying it, she knows me better.’
‘You mean she actually admitted it?’ Jess felt sick.
Chelsea gave Jess a long look. ‘She didn’t have to.’
She was missing something, Jess thought. ‘Chelsea, what happened with Angel? Is he a part of this?’
Chelsea blinked rapidly. ‘He knew.’
‘I’m sorry.’ For a moment, Jess wasn’t sure what else to say.
‘It’s a shit-storm, isn’t it?’
Jess tried to sound positive. ‘Is there anyone else you’d like to talk to? A friend, maybe?’
Chelsea shook her head. ‘I don’t want to talk to anyone.’
‘Right.’ This felt like a waste of time. ‘Um, so why exactly am I here?’
The younger woman swung her legs to the ground and leaned forward, her gaze fierce. ‘I want you to get me out of here.’
Crap, she hadn’t seen that coming. Jess scrabbled for the right words. ‘Chelsea, think about what you’re saying. A couple of hundred people have flown in to see you and Leo get married.’ Not to mention the orchestra, the singers, the Irish band, Malarky, and Finn and his troupe. This was to be Finn’s big break. As for Linford, if this wedding fell apart, it would cement the Curse forever.
‘I can’t go through with it.’ Chelsea’s voice broke. ‘I don’t even know how long Leo and Brandi have been hooking up, but I don’t care anymore. I tell my followers to live their truth. If I don’t do the same thing, nobody will ever take me seriously again.’ Chelsea’s eyes filled with tears. ‘And I’ll hate myself.’
Jess felt sick. The other woman was right: nothing mattered. Not the fairy-tale location, or their two hundred guests. Not even the small matter of the multi-million-dollar TV deal with Bobbie Grayson. If Leo and Brandi had nothing to hide, they’d be here right now, determined to prove it. But there was still the problem of logistics.
‘Chelsea, nobody is going to force you to do anything you don’t want. But there’s a TV crew filming downstairs, and probably waiting to get footage of you getting ready.
And then there’s the paparazzi outside the gates. If you try to leave, you’ll be hounded.’ It was a horrible situation: Linford Castle was a gilded cage, and Chelsea was trapped.
‘Say if I use one of the tunnels?’
Jess stared at her. Had she any idea what she was asking? Things would be bad enough when the wedding didn’t happen, but if she helped Chelsea escape, she could probably say goodbye to her career. She wished she’d never answered Ian’s phone call.
‘Listen, I know it’s a big ask,’ Chelsea said, ‘but I’m begging you. I can’t be here; I just want to get away. Only I’ve no idea where any of the tunnels are, or if only some of them are safe or –’
Jess’s phone rang, and she jumped. ‘Hang on.’ She swiped to answer. ‘Hi, Ian.’ She listened for a few minutes, her heart hammering, as she tried to focus on what he was saying. ‘She’s not ready yet. I’ll do my best.’
Jess hung up and looked at Chelsea. Her face seemed to have got even paler, and there were dark circles under her eyes. She was the most miserable-looking bride she’d ever seen. Jess got to her feet.
‘Where are you going?’ Chelsea jumped up after her.
‘If there’s a tunnel in here, it’ll be in the bedroom.’ What she was about to do was completely insane, but deep-down Jess knew she couldn’t worry about that now.
‘Oh my God, you’re like my real Fairy Godmother!’ Chelsea ran ahead of her into the bedroom. ‘I knew you’d know about the tunnels when I saw those virtual tours online.’
Jess stopped at the door. ‘Is that why you asked to see me?’
Chelsea looked hurt. ‘Of course not. Look, one of the staff, Holly, told me there are probably tunnels in all the towers, but she’s just a kid. You’re the only person I can trust.’
Jess sighed and walked over to the fireplace; its grate filled with a huge arrangement of fresh flowers, and started to sneeze. ‘Sorry, I’m a bit allergic.’ She looked around. ‘I’ve just remembered, the fire was in this room.’
Chelsea looked at her blankly. ‘Okay?’
‘It started in the tunnel, where the electrics are.’ Jess shivered.
There was a draught coming from somewhere, but it didn’t seem to be coming directly from the chimney, because not a single flower petal was moving.
