The sequins on my dress twinkled in the headlights of the passing traffic. Saskia put her arm around me and led me back to the car park, where Amir was standing beside a black sedan, holding open the back door. I barely noticed Carter and Richie were missing.
As the car filtered out of the gates I drew my knees to my chest and ignored Amir’s bemused glance. Sam’s words echoed in my head, and I tried to ignore them. He really had left the band, and this whole wild journey really could end in a leather-scented sedan with my best friend walking down a highway, looking for a cab. I should have known Sam was never going to be comfortable in a band that spent more time playing the fame game than playing live. Despite that – despite everything – the band had managed to hold it together. Now that he was gone, Lady Stardust was truly adrift.
Saskia fished around in her handbag and offered me a packet of tissues. ‘You know,’ she said, ‘when I was growing up, I would have given anything to be where you are.’
My head snapped up. ‘You were in a band?’ I asked, grateful for the distraction.
‘Lord, no.’ She laughed her tinkling laugh. ‘I was a model. When I was twelve I got scouted at Alton Towers and signed with an agency.’ It made sense: her long white limbs, her impeccable sense of style, her poise. ‘I went everywhere,’ she added. ‘Milan, New York, Bratislava.’ She said the last place with a sense of humour I hadn’t known she possessed.
‘What went wrong?’ I asked.
‘See, it’s interesting that you assume something went wrong. Nothing went wrong. I had jobs lined up everywhere; I was doing great. But I had to do all these shoots of summer clothes in winter and I didn’t like my weight being scrutinised all the time and I was starting to get bored. And I’d promised my mum that I’d stop if it wasn’t fun anymore.’ Her face was bright and dark under the passing streetlights. ‘So I stopped modelling and I went to university and used my contacts from the industry to become a stylist.’
‘Do you miss it?’
She skewered me with her blue eyes. ‘One of the things about being on that side of the equation is that you have no control. I wasn’t choosing the clothes or taking the photographs or selecting the girls. I wanted a job where I had some control.’ She smiled. ‘It’s one of the things OJ and I first clicked over, actually. She gave up being a professional weightlifter so she could have a less stressful life as a personal trainer, and I gave up modelling so I could have more autonomy.’
The penny dropped. ‘You’re OJ’s girlfriend?’
‘Wife.’ She waggled her ring finger at me. ‘You know that’s the first time you’ve ever asked anything about me?’
I’d always seen Saskia as part of the Beatnik machine. It hadn’t occurred to me that she might have her own story. I started to apologise, but she waved a hand. Amir cut in from the front seat, the first indication he was listening: ‘Saskia is absolutely not saying you should leave the band, are you, pet?’
Saskia shook her head. ‘I think Sam should leave the band. This is all making him so unhappy – that’s a no-brainer.’ She leaned closer to me so that Amir couldn’t hear and said, ‘But I think what you do should be your choice.’
•
Carter and Richie weren’t home. I swayed in the hallway of our penthouse, casting my eyes over the marble floors, all of Saskia’s tastefully chosen artworks, the guitars in the corner of the living room. The clock in the hall showed it was almost four.
After Sam’s outburst, I was desperate to see Carter. I needed to look into his eyes so that all of Sam’s accusations would melt away – even the most painful ones, which were the ones I knew, deep down, were true. Carter would laugh it off and together we’d work out how to reunite the band.
There was no sign that Sam had come home, and I wondered if he really had gone back to Reading. I peeked into his room and saw Tish fast asleep in his bed despite her promises to leave. I had a missed call from Dad and a text from Addie. With skittering hands, I opened it.
Tears filled my eyes; even now, she was kind. But I didn’t have time to think about that. I changed into my jeans, slammed a strong coffee, and went out into the firework-tinged night.
•
MudDragon was packed full of people wearing next to nothing, pressed up against each other on the dance floor. I pushed through the crowd, looking up at every tall boy in the hope it was Carter. Every time I made eye contact theirs would widen in surprise, and I’d shrink back into the crowd.
MudDragon was the third club I’d been to. My joints were stiff and my bones were sore and as I thought about the ache in Sam’s voice when he’d said, ‘He’s using you,’ I wanted to cry. But I had to find Carter. I’d called and texted him over and over, but he wasn’t picking up.
Other people bumped against me, their sweat rubbing off on my clothes as I shoved my way through. Everyone was packed in tight at the bar, waving twenties and yelling orders. I scanned the faces, looked for Richie’s silky blond hair or Carter’s darting eyes, but found nothing.
‘Hey! Aren’t you Lily Donadi?’ said someone.
‘It is you!’ said a petite girl in a skater dress. ‘I knew it was you!’
‘Will you take a selfie with me?’ said her friend. ‘My boyfriend is not going to believe I met you!’
My body tensed for flight – but maybe I could use this. I posed for the picture.
‘Hey, I’m here with the band,’ I said as casually as I could. ‘But I lost them in the crowd.’
‘Carter Tanqueray is here?’ said the first girl. ‘Oh. My. God.’
‘Have you tried the private function room?’ said the blonde. ‘There’s a massive party there.’
I’d never known Carter to turn down a massive party. They took me to a set of stairs at the side of the bar, away from the main dance floor, and the hostess scanned my face before inclining her sinewy neck to let me past. At the top of the stairs was an intimate room made up of several booths draped in velvet curtains.
Carter was in one of the booths, flanked by two girls. I stood and watched as he handed the waitress his gold Amex, knocked back a tequila shot, sucked a quarter of lime. His other hand was on the bare knee of a girl who was wearing a corset in lieu of a top.
I ran hot and cold at once, rooted to the floor. I stared as he turned to the girl, his eyes unfocused, and said something in her ear. She laughed and picked up the last traces of salt with her fingertip, then put her finger in his mouth.
He’s got the moves, they always work
One cocked eyebrow and an arm’s-length smirk
Bass thudded in my head as Richie glanced over, then spoke to Carter. Carter looked up at me, slow horrible drunk understanding in his eyes, and I turned and ran.