Star Struck (24 page)

Catherine had thought that Andy might make an attempt to talk to her again, but he hadn’t. He had stayed as far away from her as possible. Probably for the best, she thought morosely. At least she wouldn’t have to speak to him again after today. Catherine thought about what had happened today and how sad she felt at the discovery that this really was how these competitions operated. Oh well, at least she’d got to stay in the Cotswolds and in a Mayfair mansion for a few nanoseconds.

Catherine could hear Star’s squeals of jubilation. ‘She’s through,’ Kim whispered.

The other girls all looked at one another. If Star was through, that was one less place for everyone else.

‘Therese, please,’ Will shouted and Therese followed him.

The others all wished her luck as she walked off petrified, to hear her fate.

A few minutes later Therese was back, crying, shaking her head, indicating that she didn’t want to talk about it. Catherine felt terrible for her, poor girl. That would be her in a minute, she just knew. Although she wouldn’t be crying like that because already knew what was in store for her.

‘Kim, please!’ Catherine gave her friend a huge hug and waved her off. She felt far more nervous for Kim than she did for herself. As she stood waiting, Andy
rounded
the corner. He looked as if he was about to say something to her, but Catherine shut her eyes tight and when she opened them again, he had gone. Kim was with Richard Forster while he deliberated her fate for far longer than both Star and Therese. Just as Catherine was wondering if they hadn’t witnessed her reaction and she had been whisked away, she heard a piercing shriek and Kim shouting, ‘Oh my God, thank you so much, I won’t let you down.’

So Star and Kim, her original roommates, were through, Catherine thought sadly, knowing that she wouldn’t be joining them. As much of a total pain as Star was, it would be fun to see her in full flight in New York.

Carly was called next and Sierra stood looking terrified at Catherine. They didn’t speak; there wasn’t much to say. If Carly got through then they were both going home; if she didn’t, then it was between the two of them. Carly’s sobs could be heard and then a runner went past them in a hurry asking where the trained first aider was.

‘I’m a trained first aider,’ Catherine said and quickly followed the runner. But once she was standing in the mock ballroom, Carly was sitting up and catching her breath.

‘She’s fine, she’s fine,’ Will was saying as a gaggle of production staff stood around her. Catherine slunk back to the corridor where she had been waiting. She was relieved she hadn’t had to perform CPR. It might have looked like a terribly cheesy attempt to gain favour with the judges: look at me I might not want to exploit my dad’s illness, but I windsurf, abseil and perform mouth-to-mouth in my spare time.

When the commotion had died down and poor rejected Carly was carted off, Will popped his head around the door. ‘Catherine, please.’

Sierra gave her a kiss on the cheek and wished her luck, which of course she didn’t mean, but she had to say. Catherine walked back into the mock ballroom and took her place on the seat next to Richard Forster. She smiled tightly at Richard.

‘Well, Catherine …’ he said, looking at her intently. Catherine could feel the eyes of twenty different lights, sound and camera operators watching her. Please put me out of my misery, she thought, ‘… you’ve surprised me. I have to say that you are made of strong stuff.’

Catherine looked at him, her eyes were drawn to his Thunderbirds brow and the more she told herself not to stare at it, the more she couldn’t help it. ‘I don’t really think I am …’

‘You have an amazing voice, there is no doubt about it. And, as you know, I wasn’t sure if the public would connect with you. But you know what?’ he asked, employing his trademark agonising pause, ‘I do. I think that you have a steely determination that might not have been seen by the public yet, but I’ve seen it, so I’m taking a punt. Catherine …’

Catherine could feel her chest tightening. Was he really going to say what she thought he was going to say?

‘You’re coming to New York.’

‘Oh my God!’ Catherine said feeling the blood rush to her head. She jumped to her feet and kissed Richard Forster. She could hear a squealing that seemed to come from far away and then realised it was her. ‘I can’t believe it!’
And
then she had to sit down because her legs had turned to jelly.

There was screaming and crying coming from the corridor – it was Sierra who had obviously just realised she wasn’t going through. Catherine put her hands to her mouth feeling terrible for her fellow competitor.

‘Can we cut that out – whatshername crying?’ Richard asked the director. ‘Or better still, get it on camera and then bring her through. Won’t do any harm to have a twist on how someone finds out, will it?’

Catherine knew that she should be horrified by this cut-throat attitude, but she wasn’t. Richard couldn’t be all that bad if he had decided to take on board what he knew about her family life and not air it. And anyway, Catherine was too delighted and too shocked to discover that she was in the finals to worry too much about the way in which Richard Forster handled people who had just been rejected.

Kim, Star and Catherine all stood staring at one another. Kim and Catherine had spent the last five minutes jumping around the room squealing. Even Star had dropped the frosty knickers routine for a moment to give the other two a hug.

‘What happens now?’ Kim asked excitedly.

‘They just said wait here, didn’t they?’ Star said. ‘No doubt so that they can ship out the other poor sods and get them to go cry somewhere that’s not on
Star Maker
property.’

The door opened and Richard Forster and Will walked in. ‘Well, girls, excited?’ Richard asked.

‘Yeah!’ the girls replied in unison.

‘So you should be, it is exciting. Right, I’m going to hand over to Will now and I’ll see you girls in New York in three days’ time.’

Catherine’s heart sank. While Kim was gleefully jabbering about New York and Star was acting as if she was so over it because she used to live there, Catherine was thinking about how her dad was going to react to the news. She was barely going to have time to say goodbye at this rate. Maybe he could come to New York with her; maybe she could fly back during the week. She was going to ask Will what her options were, if indeed she had any. She couldn’t quit now, she knew that Jo wouldn’t let her. It was too good an opportunity to squander.

‘Right, girls,’ Will looked at his watch. ‘At 5 p.m. you’re booked in with Nicky Clarke for a hair cut and our make-up team here will give you a makeover. We’ve got Leighton doing your nails. Then you’ll be filming your body shots this evening. After which we’ll be doing our own interviews with you to give as press releases.’

Catherine tried to keep up with the information she was being fed.

‘What do you mean, “body shots”?’ Kim asked, beating Catherine to it.

‘You know on the finals where you see the contestants and they’ve got a new hair do and look a million dollars compared to how they looked in the auditions and there’s a wind machine blowing their hair? Well, that’s your body shots. Then we get a few words from you now because it’s good to capture the excitement of being told you’re in
the
finals. Right, I’ll go get the girls you’re up against.’ Will walked out to collect the American girls.

‘Oh God, I’d almost forgotten about them,’ Star said. ‘I hope that Shoneeka doesn’t get through. She thinks she’s bloody amazing.’ Catherine and Kim looked at one another. ‘And before you start,’ Star said, seeing the look, ‘I don’t think I’m bloody amazing.’

‘No,’ Kim said, ‘you
know
you’re bloody amazing.’

Star pulled a face at Kim, pretending to be annoyed and then gave them both an uncharacteristic smile. ‘Congratulations on getting to the final.’

Catherine was taken aback. ‘Wow, thanks Star.’

‘No problem,’ she said, pulling out a compact from her bag and beginning to powder her forehead. Catherine waited for Star to say something else, something that took away the kind sentiment of her last comment, but she didn’t.

A moment later, Will was back with the Americans. Freya and Meagan walked into the room, quickly followed by Shoneeka. Catherine shot a glance towards Star who rolled her eyes. As the others hugged and made polite, delighted conversation, Shoneeka squared up to Star and said, ‘I’d keep them eyeballs of yours from rolling around if I was you.’

‘What?’ Star asked, as if she didn’t know what she was talking about.

‘You heard me. I don’t want any attitude.’

‘That’s interesting, because you’re giving plenty out.’

Shoneeka stepped further towards Star. Star stood her ground. Will got between them, ‘Ladies, ladies. You’re through to the finals. Let’s just enjoy it, yes?’

‘OK,’ Star and Shoneeka agreed without cutting their look away from one another.

‘Star just can’t help making friends everywhere she goes,’ Kim whispered to Catherine.

Catherine and the girls had been chauffeur-driven through the rush-hour traffic to Harrods and had been ushered through the store by security guards to the lifts and up to the Beauty Spa. Catherine was getting a taste for being chauffeur-driven everywhere – it was nice having someone drive you around, she thought. In fact, having someone else do anything for her was a novelty. She kept having momentary panics where she would think that she should be doing something for her dad and then relaxing when she remembered he was being taken care of and so was she.

She hadn’t had time to speak to her family but had sent Jo, Maria and Claire a text saying that she would be back tomorrow morning with a camera crew and had been bombarded with texts ever since to find out if she was through or not. She desperately wanted to tell them, but it was in the contract that at this stage each contestant went back and told their family on camera. Catherine wasn’t so sure her father would take too kindly to this intrusion. She had tried to talk to him about it before she left but he just said, ‘I’ll cross that media intrusion bridge when I come to it.’ Jo had pointed out that he’d spent his life trying to get the media to intrude on him, but he had just pretended to not hear.

Will had told the girls that while they were having their beauty treatments they should not under any circumstances tell anyone about why they were there. After an
hour
and a half of being massaged and buffed and painted, Catherine and the others emerged with perfectly manicured hands and feet. Catherine had never had her nails painted before and felt like fanning her hands in front of her face like a coquettish Edwardian lady. They were then whisked through town to the hair salon, which had been opened after hours especially for the girls. Catherine’s black hair, which she usually dyed herself with Nice ’n’ Easy, was expertly put into foils and low-lighted with Ebony Night and Cherry Oak. When the stylist spun her around in her chair to see the finished look, Catherine barely recognised herself. She had hair like Demi Moore. She was sure that the moment she tried to style it herself she would end up with hair more like Russell Brand, but for now Catherine thought it looked great.

The past couple of hours had been fun and had also allowed the three English girls to get to know a bit about the Americans. Star had been wise enough to give Shoneeka a wide berth and Catherine had spoken to Freya and Meagan. Meagan was from the Mid-West and was gently spoken and enjoying every minute of being in London under such glamorous circumstances. Freya was from Vermont and reminded Catherine of Gwyneth Paltrow. She was a university graduate and had been to London a number of times, which, considering she was American, Catherine thought to be terribly exotic. And then there was Shoneeka. She was from Baltimore and thought that London was cold and that Harrods was overpriced. She had cheered up though when they drove through the streets of London, pointing out sights that she’d seen on the TV and telling Catherine that she had
once
thought that Buckingham Palace wasn’t actually a real place.

Back at the studios Catherine was put into make-up and after half an hour of having more make-up applied that even Maria would dare to wear, she was ready to be dressed and film her body shots. The stylist poured her into a black Roberto Cavalli body con dress. Catherine felt that if she breathed out people would start asking her when she was due. But once she saw her reflection in the mirror, she saw that all the styling had worked; she barely recognised herself. She looked sophisticated and sexy.

‘I’d vote for you,’ Kim said, walking over. Kim was dressed in a slashed shoulder All Saints dress with patent peep-toe pixie boots. Her hair had been cut into a spiky crop and her eye make-up was dark and sultry.

‘Look at you!’ Catherine exclaimed. She felt a sudden pang of guilt about thinking that it was Kim who had told Richard about her father, but forced it from her mind.

‘Look at you, more like!’ Kim said, hugging her friend.

‘Look at me, more like!’ Star said, stepping out of the shadows looking like Lily Col, in a black sequinned flapper dress.

‘Modest as ever,’ Catherine said.

‘Come on now, girlies, lighten up,’ Star said, as if all of the back-biting and sniping had been part of an act. ‘We’re all through.’

‘You’re a weirdo,’ Kim said.

‘Takes one to know one,’ Star smiled.

Catherine was taken through for her body shots and as she awkwardly moved and smiled lots of pictures were taken. After five minutes of watching her mug to camera
the
director had obviously had enough and decided to help her out. He walked over and started pulling her around. He placed one leg in front of the other, her left hand on her hip and instructed her to close her mouth and push her bottom lip out with her tongue. ‘It’ll give you a great pout,’ he told her. When she saw the finished shots she realised that it had. She looked like a model. Wait until I tell Jo, she thought. She’d laugh. Jo said that whenever Catherine was photographed, she always looked like someone who’d just escaped from their carer.