Tish’s embarrassed but still charming smile couldn’t distract from the slinky orange dress gaping at the front, her nipple covered by a star icon. The headline gloated Lady Shame! I skimmed the article, but there was no mention of me and Addie.
Sam was tense and silent, leaving Richie, Carter and I to answer questions in the interviews that filled the day. When we got home, Tish had arranged a flat-lay of The Express, a coffee cup and a small cactus, which she’d purchased for the occasion, on our kitchen bench. The photo on her socials, with a self-deprecating caption, got twenty-one thousand likes. Not bad for a college student from Reading.
That night, Sam and Tish left for dinner but were back within an hour. I watched from the window as she got out of the cab and stalked inside, holding her handbag up to protect her still-straightened hair from the rain. I turned as she came into the flat but she ignored me and went straight to Sam’s room. Sam stood in the wet street for a moment, looking bewildered, then headed to the convenience store across the street.
I went downstairs to wait for him, watching through the open front door until he returned with a pint of milk and a packet of Maltesers.
‘Oh, hi.’ He held up the chocolate. ‘Want one?’
Luckily Saskia wasn’t around to see me cheating on my diet. I crunched one between my teeth as he sat down beside me, not bothering to shut the door. ‘We had a fight,’ he said. I’d kind of figured that. A faint siren wailed somewhere in the city.
‘You want to talk about it?’
‘There’s photos of my girlfriend. Naked. In a newspaper.’
‘She’s not naked,’ I pointed out, rolling another Malteser over my tongue. ‘She’s got little stars on her nipples.’
He let out a laugh despite himself.
‘Anyway, Amir would say that tomorrow it’ll be wrapping fish and chips.’
‘She says it’s just a laugh,’ he said. ‘She can’t understand why I’m upset.’
‘Why are you upset? It’s her body. If she’s not worried, it shouldn’t matter to you.’
‘I know that. I guess I’m quite a private person. I’ve never even kissed Tish in front of my mum.’
‘It was an accident, though,’ I said. ‘The photographers were there for Addie.’ And me, I thought. I was meant to be the one on the front page of The Express, eyes downcast against the camera flashes, a sexy pirate on my arm. Part of me was relieved that I wasn’t dealing with the attention – and part of me knew Amir wouldn’t let me off that easily. But if that meant scheduling another meeting with Addie, I wouldn’t complain.
A trainload of people spilled out of the Underground, opening their umbrellas like a flock of birds taking flight. Sam let out a long breath. ‘Then how did they know she’s a make-up artist?’ he said. ‘Or that she wants to be? She’s sixteen and works at Subway.’
I sat still for a moment. ‘It’s on her socials, isn’t it?’
He shrugged like he wasn’t sure that explained it. The streetlight lit his face and when he spoke again, his voice was a little shaky. ‘Did I ever tell you I applied to do Medicine at Bristol? If my A-level results were good enough. And, well, it turns out they are.’
I looked at him in surprise. ‘Well, it’s a shame you got stuck in this dead-end job as a rock star, or you could’ve realised your dream.’
He laughed. ‘My dad was a children’s doctor in Nigeria. When he first came here they didn’t recognise his qualifications, so he worked at a hospital as an orderly, but he used to tell us about all the people he’d helped back in Lagos. He used to say those sick kids were just like us, except less lucky. He made it sound like helping them was the most important job in the world.’
‘I can see you doing that,’ I said. ‘You’re so good with people. Is it what you want to do?’
He pressed the empty Maltesers packet between his hands. ‘I don’t know what I want to do. I’ve deferred my place at Bristol for a year. I love music. But this thing ... it’s not really music, is it? We haven’t played a gig in ages, the single sounds nothing like us, and we do more photo shoots than songwriting.’
I pressed into his shoulder. ‘We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for the music. We’ll write more songs, and we’ll play a proper gig. We just have to do the promotional stuff so that when we do have a show, people will pay to see us.’
‘I’m just not sure it’s worth it. I’m not sure it’s worth having my girlfriend in the newspaper with stars over her nipples.’
I nodded. ‘Sometimes it’s like being inside a fishbowl.’
‘Come on, you’re an Aussie, you should know better than that,’ he said. ‘It’s more like being in a shark tank.’