Star Struck (31 page)

Andy looked at Jason, who was intently listening to Richard, as was everyone else in the room. They all knew they had just witnessed the end of a once great pop career. Richard Forster wasn’t a man to be crossed.

Chapter 16

THE DAY OF
the first live finals had at last arrived. Catherine had spent all day going over and over the song she was to sing, ‘The Edge of Seventeen’ by Stevie Nicks. Not something she would have chosen, but she did acknowledge that it was a clever choice. It was an old song that had been sampled by Destiny’s Child, so sounded modern.

The American vocal coaches were loud, brutally frank and each more terrifying than the last. They had been putting the girls through their paces since Anya had been unceremoniously sacked from her role as mentor. The public didn’t know this, of course. To see the footage of her standing by a piano with each under-twenty-five girl, anyone would have thought that she had carefully guided them through every step of their performance.

The past two weeks had been exhausting but great fun and now they were being driven to the TV studios at Chelsea Piers where there would be an audience of over a thousand people and their performances would be broadcast to the nation. Catherine was so nervous she hadn’t been able to eat properly – even her meagre one thousand calories a day – for days. Antonia had spotted her yesterday, tapped her collar bones and said, impressed, ‘Wow they’re really starting to stick out, good work!’

Catherine hoped that her nerves wouldn’t get the better of her for the performance itself. But as soon as the day
was
over, her thoughts turned to her dad and how things were at home. She had tried to call home three times today but each time had got the answerphone. Finally, she decided to call Jo’s mobile. It made an odd noise and then connected.

‘Catherine, how’s it going?’ Jo sounded distracted.

‘It’s great. How’s Dad?’

‘Dad is totally fine. Nothing to worry about,’ Jo said breezily.

‘Are you sure?’

‘Completely. Fine. So come on, what’s the goss?’

‘No goss, really,’ Catherine said, feeling relieved that all seemed to be OK at home. She kept bargaining with herself about her dad. If she did well in this then she would be able to make sure he had the best care possible. ‘This line is bad. You sound like you’re miles away.’

‘Duh! I am. Right, I’m going to try again,’ Jo said, as if she was trying to get through to someone who had great difficulty understanding the most basic instruction. ‘How is New York? With Richard Forster and the
Star Maker
programme? It is the biggest programme on the planet – don’t tell me you don’t have any gossip!’

‘Oh, yes. Right.’ Her sister really did have a point. ‘Well, there was something that happened that was totally bizarre that I forgot to text you about …’ Catherine explained the Anya episode and Jo squealed excitedly throughout the story.

‘I’m ringing
Heat!
’

‘You are not!’ Catherine said, panicked.

‘That was a joke, you dimwit.’

Out of the corner of her eye, Catherine could see Star
walking
towards her. The usually immaculately groomed young woman was dishevelled and looked to have been crying. Catherine watched as Star got nearer, but when she saw Catherine she ducked out of view. ‘Listen, Jo, I’ve got to go.’

‘I’ll be texting you and watching you tonight and we’ll all be voting. In fact, all of Manchester will be voting and Dad’s new fan club will obviously be behind you, too.’

Catherine didn’t want to think of the sort of nutters her father would be attracting now that he had made his TV debut.

‘I’ll call back later, after the show.’ Catherine looked at her watch. The show aired late in the UK, at half-nine and earlier in the US, at four-thirty eastern time.

‘Good luck.’

‘Thanks.’ Catherine hung up and followed Star. She had been acting strangely for the past few days but Catherine hadn’t thought too much of it as they had been so busy and Star acted strangely all the time anyway.

‘Star?’ Catherine said, following her into their room.

‘What?’ Star asked, opening her wardrobe and rummaging around in it. Catherine could tell that she was only doing this so that she didn’t have to look at her.

‘Are you OK?’

‘I’m fine,’ Star said. She didn’t sound fine.

Catherine tiptoed towards her, and Star turned around and said, ‘Seriously, I’m fine.’

‘Why have you been crying then?’ Having three sisters made Catherine an expert at not taking no for an answer.

‘I haven’t,’ Star said adamantly and went back to going through her wardrobe.

‘Star …’ Catherine decided that she was going to extend some kindness to Star. She was prickly and brittle but sometimes she seemed like a lost soul to Catherine. ‘I know you probably don’t want to, but just to let you know, if you need to talk to someone, you can talk to me.’

Star turned around slowly and looked at Catherine. ‘Thank you. But really, I’m fine.’

‘OK.’ Catherine felt that there was more to this than nerves. Star didn’t suffer from nerves, she was the most self-confident person Catherine had ever met. ‘Well, are you going to be OK for later?’

‘I’ll be fine, honestly,’ Star nodded.

Catherine walked towards the door thinking that she should give Star some time alone.

‘Thanks,’ Star said timidly, as Catherine opened the door.

‘No problem.’

‘Bloody hell, that was close.’ Jo said, stepping out of the taxi and looking up at the huge hotel they were booked into for the night, off Broadway.

‘It smells.’ Mick said, disgruntled.

Maria’s bare, tanned leg stretched out of the taxi and she gathered herself as if she was about to step onto the red carpet for the awaiting photographers. ‘What does?’

‘This place. New York, New York, so good they named it shite,’ Mick grumbled.

‘Does that make any sense to you?’ Jo asked Maria, before turning to her father. ‘Right, you, a few rules while we’re here. Number one: no moaning. Number two: no moaning and number three …’

‘All right, all right. “No moaning.” I get it.’

‘Good,’ Jo said firmly. She looked around and couldn’t believe she was in New York. The fashion capital of the world. She wanted to soak up every minute of being here, not listen to her dad bang on incessantly about his opinion of the place.

Jo, Maria and Mick had flown from the UK that morning, courtesy of
Star Maker
. Mick had been such a hit with the public both in the UK and the US that his performance at the auditions had become one of the most watched videos on YouTube. He was now being stopped in the street and asked to re-enact his infamous robber baron line. Jo hadn’t bothered to impart on Catherine how odd their own few weeks had been. Catherine might be off in the States and be on track to becoming a star, but back home Mick was the one who thought he was famous.

The bellboy helped them to their room with their cases and Maria, who had been to New York before and knew that her dad would be utterly flustered with the whole process of tipping, paid him ten dollars, refusing to tell Mick how much she had handed over. Jo knew she was right to do so, they’d only have to listen to a speech about how much someone should be paid for carrying a few cases up the stairs.

‘So what happens now?’ Mick said, as soon as the bellboy had gone.

‘We’re being picked up here …’ Jo looked at her watch, ‘… flipping heck, in ten minutes out front, to go meet whoever we’re seeing from
Star Maker
.’

Mick smiled proudly. ‘We’re going to be proper famous. Good eh?’

‘No, we’re not. It’s not about us, we’re just the freak show that was glad of a free flight,’ Jo said. Her father was proving even more of a pain in the arse as a minor celeb than he was as her run-of-the-mill dad.

Jo’s phone began to ring again, she hoped it wasn’t Catherine – she didn’t want to have to lie to her again. The number was a Manchester one, it wasn’t Claire’s – poor Claire had had to stay at home because Paul was working away and children under ten weren’t allowed at the live finals. Jo studied the number and then realised who it was. She’d been waiting for a call back from the hospital. ‘Sorry, just need to get some reception somewhere.’ Jo walked out of the hotel room and shut the door behind her.

Ever since her last meeting with her mother the idea that her father wasn’t being entirely truthful about his illness had been niggling Jo. She didn’t even want to admit to herself that he might be being dishonest, so she called the hospital and explained to a nurse there that they were having problems getting their father to accept their support, to the point where he wouldn’t even tell them what sort of cancer he had. The nurse had said that she would find out what she could and call her back. She had explained that they were bound by patient confidentiality but that she was prepared to see what she could do, as Jo was a relative and had sounded so upset.

‘Hello,’ Jo said.

‘Hi, Jo, it’s Louise Roper, I’m a sister at Christie’s Hospital.’

‘Oh, hi.’ Jo said, feeling suddenly nervous.

‘I’m just calling back because I’ve been looking up
information
on your father and we haven’t a patient registered with us under the name of Michael Reilly.’ Jo felt sick. ‘I’ve searched the archives but there isn’t anyone that matches your dad’s date of birth or address details.’

‘But I dropped him off there the other week,’ Jo said quietly, her mind racing.

‘He might have come to us for treatment but be registered with Wythenshawe or St Mary’s Hospital. One of the other nurses here is looking into it for you,’ the sister said. ‘I would normally suggest that you just ask him, but it’s such a delicate subject that I understand if you want some the facts and that your dad might not be the best person to tell you.’

‘You’re right. Thank you. You will let me know as soon as you find anything out, won’t you?’

‘Yes, of course. It might be next week though.’

‘OK. Thanks for your help.’ Jo pocketed the phone and thought for a moment. Should she go out and just confront her dad now and find out what the hell was going on? On the other hand, he had been confused about where he was registered when they’d spoken about it before, so maybe he was registered elsewhere. She didn’t want to stir up a hornet’s nest if there was a perfectly reasonable explanation. She decided that she would leave it for now and they should just try to enjoy their time in New York. Anyway, she was looking forward to surprising Catherine later and she didn’t want a cloud hanging over the family when that happened.

‘Come through, come through,’ a voice Jo recognised was saying. She looked up to see the producer guy that they
had
met on Catherine’s first day at Boot Camp. She tried to remember his name …
Will
, that was it. They were led into a huge boardroom with floor-to-ceiling windows on all sides with views over Fifth Avenue to one side and Central Park to the other. This is the life, Jo thought.

‘Hello there.’ Will said with a big smile when he saw Jo.

‘Look at you, all big and important in New York,’ Jo smiled back.

‘Yep, I’m so important that I’m here to make some cups of tea for you guys while you talk to Richard.’

‘Richard?’ Mick’s ears pricked up.

‘Yes, Richard Forster. He wanted to see you all. He hasn’t got long but he just needed a brief meet before tonight’s show.’

Mick puffed his chest out like the man of great importance that he’d like everyone to think he was. ‘Well, that’s only right.’

‘What’s the meeting about?’ Jo asked.

Maria was standing at the window looking down at the street below. ‘Look at all the people, like little ants.’

‘Earth to Maria,’ Jo grabbed her sister and sat her in a chair next to their dad who was perched at the boardroom table.

‘Richard will fill you in when he gets here. Tea, coffee, soda?’

‘Ha! Soda. You’ve gone native already,’ Jo laughed.

The door opened and Richard Forster walked in. ‘So, guys, glad you could make it; you’ve been making a great impression on the public, Mick …’ he leaned across and shook Mick’s hand.

Mick looked pleased as punch that he was being treated
to
a manly handshake. He’s such a bag of wind, Jo thought. One sniff of praise from Richard Forster and Mick’s protestations were out of the window. If Mick were a dog he would have rolled over to have his belly tickled by now.

‘We’re just waiting for one other person and then we can begin,’ Richard said, looking at his watch. Jo wondered who this person could be. A moment later her question was answered. The door opened and standing there was the last person that Jo expected.

‘Hello, everyone,’ Karen said with a smile.

Chapter 17

CATHERINE AND THE
other twenty-three contestants had spent the afternoon rehearsing at the Chelsea Pier studios where tonight’s first live final was to take place. Earlier that day she had stood on the stage where she would sing in front of millions of people, wearing a Juicy Couture tracksuit that a stylist had thrown her into, with her hair in rollers. Catherine had struggled through the first part of the song and was nervous that she was going to mess up tonight. She also knew that the full enormity of what she was about to do hadn’t dawned on her yet and was hoping she wouldn’t go to pieces as she stepped out in front of the studio audience this evening. Each act would perform once and by now everyone had rehearsed except Star.

‘Where is she?’ Kim asked, after she had finished her rendition of ‘Crying’. Kim had complained to Catherine when she was given this song to sing, but she quickly realised that it suited her voice and her practice run this afternoon had been extremely well received.

‘I haven’t seen her since this morning,’ Catherine said, looking around. In the corner of the studio Catherine saw Andy standing talking to one of the technicians. She couldn’t believe that they had managed to avoid one another for two weeks. She had seen him around and watched out for the type of behaviour that Jason said he was known for, but she hadn’t witnessed any. On the other
hand,
Jesse – it was widely rumoured – was working his way through the American girls and the crew from both sides of the Atlantic. Catherine had thought that Jesse had his eye on Star, but it seemed he had his eye on everyone. Andy saw Catherine catch his eye and waved. She waved back, feeling a little bit silly in her rollers. He walked over and Catherine felt nervous and embarrassed. Nervous because despite what he had done, she still quite liked him and embarrassed because of the way she had spoken to him in the back of the car in London.