Page 111 of The Reboot
‘There you are then,’ he said, smiling complacently. ‘You’ve nothing to worry about. You know he’s in safe hands with me.’ He gave her a pat on the shoulder, while rage boiled inside her. He thought he’d reassured her — because he knew nothing about Roly and what kind of father he had. It just made her more frightened for him than ever.
Alex and Liam weren’t much better. They were worried about Roly or angry with him, or both in equal measure. They knew he could ruin everything for them if it got out.
‘Our fans are so young,’ Liam explained to her. ‘Some of them are just little kids. So we have to look squeaky clean, you know – be appropriate role models. If it got out that any of us were doing drugs, it’d be a disaster. Promoters won’t want to know, sponsors will drop us.’
There were endorsements at stake, lucrative advertising deals. He knew it would be the end of everything, and he was scared of losing it all. But she didn’t blame him like she did Vince. He was just a wide-eyed kid who didn’t want his candy taken away.
Charlie was the only one prepared to stick his neck out. Lovely Charlie, Roly’s best friend in the band. He’d looked reluctant at first, scared like the rest of them, but he agreed to help her try to talk to Roly.
‘I know his family are worried about him. Do you know his mum?’
‘No.’ Ella knew his mother to see at school events, but she’d never met her.
‘I know they’ve tried to get him to sort himself out – her and his nan. His nan’s a bit of a force of nature.’ He smiled. ‘If Christine Punch can’t get him into rehab, I don’t fancy my chances.’
Ella deflated, thinking he was giving up.
‘But we can only give it a go. Come on, and we’ll see what we can do.’
‘Oh, right now?’ Ella was teary with relief. She could have kissed him.
They found Roly in one of the bedrooms with a couple of other people, all sitting on the floor around a low coffee table. They asked everyone else to leave so they could talk to him privately. It didn’t go well. Roly didn’t want to know. He wouldn’t admit he had a problem. He’d blanked them completely at first. Then he’d become defensive, and finally aggressive.
‘What is this, some kind of intervention?’ he scoffed.
He became more and more vicious and scathing. He accused Charlie of wanting to get rid of him so there’d be less competition in the band. Charlie had dealt with it admirably, quietly stoic as he let Roly’s insults roll off him. But Ella could see how hurt he was, how sad and scared for his friend.
Eventually other people drifted back into the room, Roly turned his back on them and they gave up.
‘At least we tried, I suppose,’ Charlie said as they returned to the party.
It was no consolation to Ella. They’d failed.
‘Who the fuck brought that guy?’ She heard Vince’s hiss as they passed him on the way into the living room. Ella followed his gaze. He was glaring across the room at a gangly, red-headed man talking to Zack and Alex.
‘Who’s that?’ she asked Charlie.
‘Oh, bloody hell! It’s Robert Casey. What the hell is he doing here?’
‘Who is he?’
‘He’s a journalist from theRecord.’
‘A journalist?’
Vince appeared beside them. ‘Where’s Roly?’ he snapped, his mouth a thin line.
‘He’s in one of the bedrooms,’ Charlie jerked his head towards the door.
‘Well, for fuck’s sake make sure he stays there and don’t let that dick anywhere near him.’
Charlie nodded.
‘And watch what you say. He seems to have ingratiated himself with Zack, but he’s not to be trusted.’ Vince disappeared again, presumably to warn the rest of the band to be on their best behaviour.
There had been rumours about Roly’s drug-taking before, of course. But they were always denied, brushed off, and with no evidence and no witnesses willing to dish the dirt, they remained just that. Occasional little snippets turned up in the press, unsubstantiated stories and bits of gossip that caused a brief stir and faded away again just as quickly.
The people around him would always be invested in hushing it up. They had too much to lose. But if the truth were to come out, Ella thought, they’d have no option but to do something. Roly would have to get help. She willed the journalist to somehow find his way into the bedroom where Roly was. She kept an eye on him the whole time as he moved around the room. It was why she was still here, hours after she would have gone home. Maybe if he stayed long enough for things to get messy, people would become careless, tongues would loosen, they’d forget to be discreet…
