Cold Comfort (23 page)

“I’m richer.”

“Seriously, what can he do? I’m with you
now,” I said, stroking his face with the tips of my fingers. He closed his eyes
and pressed his cheek into my palm. I could see he was genuinely upset by all
this. When his eyes opened he fixed me with his intense blue gaze.

“He missed his chance with you, Delilah,
more fool him. I don’t intend to make the same mistake. Now get yourself naked
and let me remind you of one of the many reasons we’re good together.”

*

“You need to let her have a shower. The
cars will be here in twenty minutes,” Eddy bellowed through the door. Cat
grumbled from beside me.

“Do we have to go?” I asked. I really didn’t
know if I wanted any more exposure if my first experiences were anything to go
by. Besides, I was happy where we were. Cat had spent the last two hours sexing
me boneless.

“It’s the job. We just have to suck it up,
smile and sing. It’ll be over before you know it. Anyway, I like singing that
song with you.”

“I like singing it with you too. I could
just do without all the rest of it.”

“Yeah, well, that horse has already
bolted.” He stood and pulled me upright. “Come shower with me, unless you want
to go to the show smelling of sex. I think it’s kind of hot, but others might
not see it that way.”

“Don’t be gross.” I giggled, squealing as
he slapped my behind.

We were late leaving in the end. Clutching
a bag containing my change of clothes and some make-up, I was a nervous wreck
by the time we reached the studio, despite Eddy’s best efforts to keep me calm.
The guys spent the bulk of the time after we arrived setting up and doing a
sound check while I watched, only stepping in to help them get the levels right
on my own mic. I envied them their busyness, while I just sat chewing my
fingernails. I hated the feel of eyes on me – it was starting to make me
paranoid. Then, after they’d finally got everything as they wanted it, we still
had a couple of hours to kill before the show was recorded in front of the live
audience.

Security was much more obvious than before,
which was getting up the other band members’ noses as they struggled to get to
some of their groupie admirers – their go-to time-wasting occupation I was
quickly learning. The girls were not held back for long, though, the dressing
room becoming fuller than felt comfortable as each of the band soon gained a
female appendage. There was an extra who made it clear she was there just in
case Cat tired of me. One of the regulars. I was beginning to recognise the usual
girls who turned up at everything the boys did everywhere they did it, although
I wondered continually how the hell they supported themselves. She was casting
daggers in my direction every chance she got. It got old quick. Eventually I
excused myself as the entertainment started to become a little more adult, and
went to find myself a quieter room to get ready in.

About half an hour before the show was due
to start I had changed and finished having my make-up done. Professional make-up
artists had been a revelation. When I walked back into our dressing room having
had my hair done – the lady had plaited it around the front, which I
thought made me look like an extra from ‘Frozen’ but was still kind of sweet –
I removed the robe that had been protecting my outfit from getting anything on
it. Cat’s eyes ran down the length of me, his expression heated, and I watched
him swallow. “Fucking hell, Delilah, you’re going to kill me if you keep doing
this.”

The rest of the band were silent behind him,
until Henry piped up; “You are a lucky fucker.” His eyes were running over me
much like Cat’s had, the girl astride his lap forgotten.

“Eyes off,” Cat growled. “Babe, have you
got any different trousers? When you said you had trousers and a top, I
thought…” He trailed off.

“Don’t you like it?” I asked, my confidence
dipping.

“You look like a freaking supermodel,
Delilah. That’s the only problem,” Matt supplied helpfully, shrugging his own
clingon off as he stood and came over to give me a kiss on the cheek. I smiled
gratefully at him and took a couple of steps towards Cat.

“Do you like what you see?” I asked him.

He swallowed again. “So fucking much.” His
voice was a whisper, the words just for me.

“Good, well, that’s all that matters.” I
smiled at him and kissed him lightly on the lips, being careful not to spoil my
lipstick.

A knock at the door announced that it was
time for us to go and sit in the waiting area with the other guests on the
show. The girls were herded out of the backstage area, the band making vague
promises about seeing them soon, as we were led in a different direction.

In the waiting area there was a comedian I’d
always liked to watch and a big Hollywood movie star Mama had always had a
thing for, who I knew was going to be accompanied by the co-star of his new
film, an up-and-coming talent if the papers were to be believed. The
conversation was polite, but given that Cat had positioned me beside him at the
far end of the row of seats, making it difficult for me to speak to anyone at
all, I mostly sat there in silence, my nerves escalating with every passing
minute. When the other actor finally arrived he ignored the unfriendly glare
Cat was giving him and instead plonked himself down beside me at the end of the
row, sticking out his hand with a friendly smile on his handsome face.

“Hi. I’m Richard.”

I smiled back. “Delilah.”

“Are you singing with Cold Comfort
tonight?”

“Yeah.” I smiled over at Cat, who was now scowling
at Richard from his seat beside me. I elbowed him. “I heard your new film is
amazing,” I said, trying to make conversation and looking for anything to say
that would distract from the daggers Cat was currently throwing in his
direction.

“Really?” Richard asked, seeming genuinely
unsure of himself.

“Really. From real people, not the ones who
get paid to blow smoke up your arse.” My nerves and worry about Cat clearly meant
my verbal filter had been temporarily removed. Fortunately my honesty made Richard
laugh loudly. I blushed. I think I heard Cat actually growl at that point.

“Thank you. My Mum liked it, but then I
think that was because Arthur was in it,” he said, nodding towards the older
actor who was chatting at the other end with the comedian and Matt.

“My Mama adores him too. She’ll die when
she finds out I was on the same show as him.” I laughed at the thought.

“I swear, he has more groupies than Cold
Comfort… or maybe not,” he joked, before calling over to the older actor. “Arthur,
do me a favour and give this lovely lady your autograph. I hoped to impress
her, but it seems an autograph from you for her Mother would be more welcome
than anything I could offer.”

Arthur laughed, clearly delighted by the
continued appreciation of his fans. He took time to check the spelling of Mama’s
name and wrote her a lovely message. By the time he’d finished they were giving
a five-minute warning for the first guests.

Arthur and Richard were the main focus for
the show, so they went out first. “Break a leg,” Richard whispered to me as he
stood to go, giving me a wink. Once they’d gone, the room was a much quieter
place as we all waited for our turn. Cat sat in brooding silence, seemingly
refusing to make any conversation with me despite my best efforts. Instead I
focused on the small monitor that showed us what was happening on the stage.

The format of the show involved regular
cutaways to those of us still sitting behind the scenes, so we were on
continual edge in case they suddenly turned the cameras on us, but the
presenter was masterful, quickly putting the guests at ease with his funny
witticisms. Unfortunately Cat looked to be in a hideous mood every time the
camera found him, which was often. A couple of times the presenter made jokes
about his ill humour, which just made matters worse.

“Chill the fuck out,” Henry hissed over at
him at one point, when he’d scowled at something the presenter said. “What the
hell’s gotten into you?” His eyes flickered over at me.

“Keep your eyes to yourself,” Cat growled
immediately.

“Cat,” I said, frustrated by his insane
jealousy, “you need to calm down. You’re acting like a crazy man.” I grabbed
his t-shirt and pulled him towards me, kissing him ferociously until finally I
felt him relax into me. It was only when the voice of the assistant broke into
the room, telling us we needed to get into our places, that we broke apart,
both breathing heavily.

“Thank you,” he said, pressing his head
against mine, “I needed that.” He took hold of my hand as we stood and walked together
onto the stage. His presence was comforting and familiar, but despite the
earlier rehearsal I felt my mouth go dry as I took in the stage and lights. We took
our places, still in darkness, while the guests on the couch continued to chat.
I perched on my stool opposite Cat, and he reached over and gave my leg a
squeeze.

“Sing to me again,” he whispered, just as
the presenter introduced us and the lights suddenly blazed to life. For a
moment I was blinded, unable to see anything but the band on stage with me. It
was a relief. Then the music began and Cat started singing. Just like before,
when it came to my part I couldn’t have stopped myself from joining him. Our
voices blended, his words enriched by the emotions I saw in his eyes. The
lights meant I could see little but what was in front of me, but his gaze held
me transfixed anyway.

I was disappointed when the song came to its
finish. I wanted to carry on; I loved the feeling of the performance, using my
voice as my instrument. As the final chord faded, the crowd exploded into
rapturous applause, jolting me back into reality. I remembered where I was and
what I had just accomplished. I peered into the darkness to see people were on
their feet. Behind us I could hear the presenter raving about the song as he
brought the show to a close. But no one was looking at him – they were all
staring at us. Wanting more. It was euphoric.

The band formed a line and pulled me into
the middle to take a bow, big smiles on all our faces as we bent at the waist. It
was as I rose that I saw him, and then only because we had moved to the very
front of the stage, beyond the spotlights. He was sitting front and centre, right
in my direct line of view, his eyes fixed upon me. Hardy.

He was motionless in the midst of all the
applause. Our eyes met, and I was immediately frozen. Cat felt the change,
looking at me to see what was wrong and then following my gaze into the audience.
It wasn’t hard for him to find Hardy. He must have guessed who it was from my
reaction. I felt the tension shiver through his body, and then he grabbed me
and kissed me, the audience whooping with delight at being part of this overt
display of emotion from the notorious womaniser.

When he finally released me I immediately
looked back at Hardy, whose expression was terrifying. This time he was focused
on Cat and not me. Cat smiled, having achieved the effect he was after, then
waved at the crowd one last time before grabbing my hand again and leading me
off the stage.

He was completely casual and normal until
we walked out of line of the camera. Then he sprang into action. “Get some
fucking security here now,” he bellowed. “Wayne, get my fucking lawyer on the
line.” Everyone stared at him as he walked like a steam train through all the
people who were waiting to congratulate us, pulling me along in his wake, his
grip like iron around my wrist.

“Delilah, that was incredible,” Richard
gushed, trotting along beside me.

“Not now, dickhead. I’m not in the mood,”
Cat said in a voice like ice. Richard raised his hands in mock surrender, and I
mouthed an apology as Cat dragged me into our changing room. The girls from
earlier were back. God only knew what they’d had to do to talk their way in. “Get
the fuck out, now,” he bellowed. They scattered.

“Cat, what the fuck is going on? Why are
you being more of an arse than usual? It went well! They loved it,” Matt said. The
others were hovering behind him, expressions ranging from completely confused
to pissed off.

“Delilah’s ex was in the audience. The guy
is stalking her. I need to get her away from here now, and I need to get a
restraining order placed on him.”

“When do you guys want to do the VIP meet-and-greets?”
one of the stage assistants interrupted, having totally missed the tense
atmosphere in the room. I froze again. I had no doubt Hardy would be among the
VIPs.

“No fucking way,” Cat hissed, his chest
puffing out. “We’re leaving.”

“You can’t leave,” the assistant squealed. “They
want to meet the band. It was in your contract.”

Matt stepped in smoothly. “And they will
meet the band. Well, three quarters of it. Cat, you take Delilah and go back to
the house. We’ll deal with this.” Cat nodded at him.

“But one of them wants to meet her
particularly,” the girl whined, agitated now.

“I don’t think that was in any contract we
signed,” Matt replied. It wouldn’t have been – there had been little
interest in me initially. “Delilah has another commitment to attend to, so she
needs to leave now. If you introduce me to the gentleman concerned, I’ll make
sure he understands the situation.”

“Thanks, man,” Cat said, giving him a one-armed
hug before grabbing hold of my hand again and pulling me towards the door. “We’ll
be in Cambridgeshire,” he said as we left, a couple of burly security men
immediately falling in and closing ranks around us as we were hurried towards
the car.

Less than ten minutes after finishing our
performance we were on the road and heading out of London. I had nothing with
me, none of my clothes or my make-up – for what that was worth. I hadn’t
even said goodbye to Eddy, who had been sitting in the audience for the
performance. Instead I was inside a silent car with a brooding Cat beside me. His
phone rang, and I listened to his terse end of the conversation with a sinking
heart.

“I want a restraining order placed on a man
called Hardy Somerville.”…. “What do you mean?”… “He’s stalking her! Isn’t that
enough?”… “No… No…. No, not yet, that’s what we’re trying to prevent.”… “Look,
this is fucking ridiculous. Are you seriously telling me that unless he hurts
her in some way or criminally damages something, there’s nothing we can do
about him?”… “I want you to find a way. He’s hurting her emotionally if not
physically, and he shouldn’t be allowed to harass her.”… “No, he was in the
audience.”… “Look, I don’t fucking care. You work for me, so find a way to get
him away from us or I’ll find someone else who can help me.” Cat threw the
phone across the car, the screen smashing when it hit the window.

“It can’t be done?” I asked quietly when I
thought he’d calmed down sufficiently to have a conversation about it.

“Not unless your relationship was violent
previously and the police knew about it, or unless he hurts you now or commits
criminal damage or some other minor disorder. Otherwise we have nothing. It’s a
fucking disgrace.”

“I don’t think he’d hurt me.” I hesitated
as I thought about it. “Physically, I mean.”

“He’s not going to get a chance
regardless,” Cat fumed. “He can fuck right back off to wherever he came from. Fucking
loser. Who does he think he is?”

“The Somervilles are quite an influential
family…”

“Maybe so, but I’m not without a bit of
influence myself.” He simmered in silence for a while until finally he said;
“By the way, baby, you were outstanding tonight. Your voice was crazy good. Seriously
amazing.”

“I love singing with you,” I said,
snuggling down into his side as he wrapped his arms around me while the car
sped us up the M11.

“I love doing everything with you,” he
replied, kissing the top of my head gently. I leant back to look at him, and he
kissed me on the lips.

That night, when we finally reached the
house, there was a reverence to his touch I hadn’t felt before as he made love
to me, and the guards around my heart crumbled just a little more.

*

When I woke I was alone in the bed. The
room was dark and it was raining heavily, judging by the noise against the
windowpane. I showered and then hunted for the bag of things I had left behind.
I looked in my old room first but eventually found them hanging inside Cat’s
wardrobe. The sight of my things hanging beside his choked me up a little.

Pulling on some jeans and a sweater I
padded downstairs, finding the whole band minus Matt, along with Wayne and Eddy,
all gathered in the kitchen. “Wow, I really slept late,” I commented, nodding
at Henry who was notorious for sleeping most of the day away if he didn’t have
to work. He smiled, but it was empty.

“You okay, babe?” Cat asked, moving to my
side and pulling me in for a kiss.

“I’m good, why? What’s happened?” The
others looked at each other, all waiting for someone to speak first. Wayne
cleared his throat.

“So, they want to do a spread all about you
this weekend for the Saturday Mail,” he said, looking directly at me. “It’ll be
a full feature with photos, great for your exposure if that’s what you’re after.”

“Not really, but I’ll do it if it helps
you,” I said, looking at Cat. He nodded.

“Then we have requests for you guys to sing
on just about every show that has a band slot, plus a few that don’t. The
single is at number one already. You actually broke a record for the most downloads
in a single day. My phone’s been blowing off the hook since you performed last
night. There’s a lot of interest in you particularly, Delilah. You probably
need to get yourself your own manager…” He trailed off.

“She doesn’t need a manager. She’ll stick
with us. We’ll take care of her,” Cat said.

“But what about if she wants to pursue her
own solo career? She needs someone looking out for her interests.”

“I said, she’ll stay with us,” he insisted,
ignoring the looks from the other band members. I squirmed with discomfort. “We’ll
need her to perform the single on our tour anyway,” he continued.

“We could always get a guest vocalist,”
Wayne suggested. The look Cat threw at him would have turned lesser men to
stone. I actually felt sorry for him.

“It might be an idea,” I tried to step in, “for
when I have to go back to uni.” The band were nodding in agreement.

“Let me make one thing clear. If Delilah is
not singing it, then I don’t sing it. Simple. So if you want the song on our
next tour, whenever we finish the album, then I suggest we find a way to
persuade Delilah she wants to stick around with us.”

At that point the door opened and Matt
walked in with a strap on his wrist and a black eye. “What happened to you?” I
exclaimed. No one else looked surprised at his appearance.

Matt looked at Cat, who sighed. “After we
left, Matt and the guys did the meet-and-greet. That fucking loser was being
pushy, wanting to come backstage to see if you were there. He wouldn’t take no
for an answer when Matt said you’d left. Matt set him straight.”

“Oh my god, you had an actual fight with
him? Are you okay? Is he okay?”

“I’m fine,” Matt said quickly. “Just a
sprain and a black eye. Nothing serious. His ribs will be painful today, but he’ll
live.”

“Why do you even care?” Cat asked
pointedly.

“Because I hate the thought of anyone getting
hurt because of me. Nothing more.” That wasn’t the complete truth, I realised.
I hated the thought that Hardy had been hurt in a fight. It upset me more than
it should have under the circumstances. “I’m sorry,” I said to Matt. He nodded.

“No worries. He was quite persistent, so I’m
not sure we’ve seen the last of him yet, but he’ll get the message eventually,”
he promised. “The VIP tour got a little more than they bargained for. The press
will likely catch wind of something, so you’ll need to be on your toes for the
feature this weekend.” I nodded, realising I had one day to catch my breath and
then I’d be thrown to the wolves again.

Eddy walked over and gave me a hug. “You
okay with all of this?” he asked me, his big eyes blinking through his lenses. “Do
you want to go home?”

“I think we should go over to the States,”
Cat suddenly threw out. He looked at Wayne. “Didn’t you say they were
clamouring for a release over there? I say we give it to them. We’ve had lots
of exposure from the stuff we did at Radio 1 and Falk’s Talks, and we’re
already getting loads of playtime everywhere. Let’s go and blow the States
apart. We can finish the new album while we’re at it. I’ve got the rest of the
songs down. Then we’ll be over there ready for the tour in October, all nicely
acclimatised.” He looked at the rest of the band, who just shrugged. I was
beginning to realise they tended to do whatever Cat wanted for a quiet life.

“I can’t go to America,” I said.

“Why not?” Cat blinked at me.

“Because I have to go back to school at the
end of September. I have a degree to finish.”

Cat laughed, which irritated me. “Do you
really think you’ll be going back to student land? Seriously? And who do you
think is going to make sure you don’t get mobbed every time you step out the
door? Who’s going to keep your stalker ex-boyfriend away?”

“Hello,” Eddy said, waving his arms at him.
The band all laughed, which just pissed Eddy off. I glared at them.

“Look, Cat’s idea is not all bad,” Wayne
interrupted. “It would be good to capitalise on all the interest in you while
you’re hot. It’ll be a while until the new album is out, but a quick circuit
with this single could be great to freshen up the interest for the album. We
have a month until your course starts again?” he asked, looking at Eddy and me.
We both nodded. “Well then, we’ll do a month-long circuit, with appearances on as
many media outlets as we can. It should be enough time. Then you can decide
what you’re doing after that if you’re still a thing,” Wayne said, looking doubtfully
at Cat. “It gets you away from stalker boy and makes me money. It’s all good,”
he finished with a laugh. Even I could see it was a good compromise.

“Eddy can come too?” I asked no one in
particular.

“If you want to, little brother?” Matt said
immediately.

“I want to make sure she’s okay after you
lot have finished with her,” Eddy said, scowling at Cat. Cat returned the look.
“I’ll be there to take you home, D,” Eddy said to me.

“Stay out from under my feet, Eddy,” Cat
warned. “I love you like a brother, but I’ll trample you if you get in my way.”

“Calm it down, guys,” Matt said, ever the
peacemaker, as Dougie just sat there in silence. “We have a free day for once. What
are your plans?” he asked Cat.

Cat looked at me and grinned. “I have a
date with a punt.”