Star Struck (17 page)

Richard Forster nodded. ‘Well, that is sad. I’m truly sorry to hear that, Star.’

He was being genuine, Catherine realised. Of course, he would have to have a heart of stone not to think that Star’s background was sad. It didn’t mean he wouldn’t capitalise on it for the purpose of the show and Star knew it. Catherine suddenly felt sick. Is this what it
took?
Taking your family’s personal tragedies and laying them bare for all to see. Well, she certainly wasn’t about to do that. She didn’t care if it meant she was going home tomorrow.

‘I’m sorry about that, Star. That’s awful,’ Catherine said. She hadn’t taken the greatest liking to the girl but she couldn’t let this pass without saying something.

‘It’s OK,’ Star said with a shrug. Catherine didn’t know if she was trying to put on a brave face or if it really was OK. She didn’t seem too perturbed by her situation.

‘And you Kim, tell me about you.’

‘Well, there’s not a lot to tell. I work in a bar, I used to sing at the karaoke every week and people kept telling me to enter and then, when my brother went to Iraq …’

‘Your brother is in the army?’

‘Was.’

Richard looked at her like a lion who had just sensed something juicy to eat in the undergrowth.

‘Yes, he’s left now. Works at Tesco,’ Kim said. Catherine watched her study the great Richard Forster for a moment. ‘Did you want me to say he’s had his leg blown off and that’s why I’m here?’ Kim asked. ‘That hearing me sing is the only thing that gets him out of bed in the morning and stops the Basra flashbacks?’

Catherine cringed, she didn’t think that taking Richard to task in this way would do Kim any favours.

‘All I want to hear about is you, thank you,’ he said, his glacial composure remaining intact.

Kim weighed him up for a moment. ‘Well, he works at Tesco and I work in a pub. No sob story. Sorry,’ Kim said with a sweet smile.

‘Thank you, Kim.’ Richard gave her a bemused look.

Star was sitting on her bed, rubbing hand cream into her cuticles and giving Kim a look that suggested she thought she was an idiot.

‘And Catherine. We met your family …’ Catherine winced at the thought of her dad and his performance in front of the judges. She hoped to God when the programme was aired in three weeks time that they didn’t make it onto the screen, though she had a feeling that it was just too good a
Star Maker
moment to end up on the cutting-room floor. ‘So we know a little bit about you,’ Richard continued. ‘But is there anything else you think we should know, anything that gives a bit more colour to who you are?’

Catherine thought for a moment. There was nothing she would hate more than people finding out that her father suffered from depression and cancer and that she helped look after him.

‘I work in a call centre and live at home and I like singing.’ This was all true, Catherine thought, no lies here, just not the whole truth.

‘One of our crew said something about your mother …’ Richard looked at Catherine for a reaction.

Oh God, she thought, what about my mother, what? Keep a straight face, don’t give anything away.

‘My mother?’ Catherine asked neutrally. ‘She’s just a normal mum.’

OK, that was definitely a lie.

‘Right.’ Richard nodded his head. ‘That’s fine. Just wondering.’ He got to his feet. ‘Well girls, we’ll see you tomorrow.’

Catherine was about to show Richard to the door but Star jumped in front of her. ‘If you need to know anything else about me, just ask,’ Star said to Richard.

He looked her straight in the eye and said, ‘Thank you Star, I will.’

She shut the door behind him and waited for a few moments until he was well away from the room. Then she looked at Kim and Catherine and said disparagingly, ‘Well, you two have totally fucked your chances.’

Catherine was taken aback. She had just been about to ask Star what it had been like for her when her mum had died. ‘How have we?’

‘You bored him to tears,’ she informed Catherine, before turning to Kim. ‘And you made him look like an idiot. Nice going.’

‘What’s the alternative?’ Kim asked. ‘He uses the shit things that have happened in our lives to cobble together a reason why we’re on the show.’

Star’s eyes bore into Kim. Catherine held her breath; Star was well within her rights to be offended by Kim’s insensitive words. ‘That’s not the alternative, it’s the only way to get on in this competition,’ Star said, walking towards the bathroom.

‘So you don’t mind using your mum’s memory in this way?’

Catherine nearly crawled under the bed. She fully expected Star to explode. ‘My mum’s memory?’ Star sneered, ‘Don’t be a complete dupe, Kim. She’s not dead, she lives in Fulham. But she’s totally not bothered about pretending she’s not my mum. I mean this competition is too important to fuck up and Mum thought that saying
they
were dead was the best way to go.’ Star flicked her hair over her shoulder and stared pointedly at Kim.

Catherine and Kim were sitting open mouthed. Star opened the door to the bathroom and looked at them both. ‘What?’ she said finally, as if she couldn’t believe they were taking exception to what she had done. But both Catherine and Kim were speechless. They really couldn’t believe that Star would stoop so low.

Andy was sitting in his chair trying to disguise the fact he was ill at ease in the presence of Cherie Forster and his boss, Will. He had decided to mirror Will’s posture and was sitting with his leg lolled casually over the arm of his chair. Will looked cool sitting like this, Andy quickly admitted to himself as his long leg hung limply over the chair-arm, because Will
was
cool. He was six foot, totally in proportion, had a five o’clock shadow that George Michael would have fought him for and a manner about him that suggested everyone should either fancy him or like him for being a great bloke. Andy just looked like a stick man who’d been drawn badly into a chair. He swung his leg back round and planted his feet firmly on the floor.

‘You all right?’ Will asked.

‘Yeah, fine.’ Andy said, stretching his arms above his head and yawning. He had no idea why, but whenever he was nervous and trying to appear nonchalant, he yawned. He really needed to stop being such a bag of nerves, but this was a rather special fair-enough-to-be-a-bag-of-nerves situation he now found himself in. Cherie looked at Andy as if he was irritating her. He stopped yawning. The door opened.

‘Well, I know the under-twenty-fives,’ Richard announced, sitting on the edge of the desk.

Please say Catherine, Andy thought. She really deserves a break and she’s nice.

‘Star has to go through.’

‘Oh God,’ Cherie groaned.

‘Come on, she’s very attractive …’

Cherie threw her husband a look that could have cut him in two, but he chose to ignore it.

‘She’s got a great voice …’

‘And it’s operatic, there’s no other girl singing like her.’ Will said, getting behind Richard.

‘And …’ Richard paused and then a cunning smile spread across his face, ‘… her parents died in a car crash and she’s been brought up by her uncle.’

‘Bingo,’ Cherie said, nodding resignedly.

‘Bingo indeed, my love,’ Richard said, winking at his wife. She didn’t seem to appreciate the wink.

‘Great,’ Will said excitedly. Great? Andy thought. The girl’s parents are dead and this is great somehow? ‘So who else?’

‘Well, Therese has to go through.’ Andy thought for a moment, he didn’t remember any Therese.

‘Who?’ Neither did Cherie, it seemed.

‘Pre-Raphaelite hair, sang like Alanis Morrisette.’

‘Oh, I liked her, yes, very good.’ Andy hadn’t met Therese and didn’t remember her audition; he must have been elsewhere at the time. Richard named three more girls, Carly, Sierra and Julie, all of whom had really impressed the judges. Andy had to admit that they had all been excellent but this meant that there was only room
for
one other person. Who would they choose between Kim and Catherine? It had to be one or the other, they had both performed brilliantly.

‘And lastly it has to be Kim,’ Richard said, his flat pronouncement shattering the hopes of countless girls. Andy’s heart sank.

‘Kim? What’s her story?’

‘She hasn’t got one, she’s just got attitude and that’s what we need. She made me laugh actually, her brother had been in Iraq and the way she said it I assumed he was dead and actually he’s working in Tesco’s …’

‘What about Catherine?’ Andy heard himself say.

‘Pardon?’

‘Catherine.’ Andy tried to swallow his nerves. Think, what did she do that sets her apart? ‘She was really good but you sent her away and then gave her a second chance,’ he said, warming to his convictions. ‘The public will love that. And then she had the whole family come in and argue with you.’

‘But there’s nothing else there,’ Richard said, his mind evidently made up. ‘She’s a bit of a damp squib.’

‘But she isn’t, she has a great voice and really deserves a chance.’

‘Andy, we’ve got ballsy girls with attitude, we’ve got one with the voice of an angel and a dead mother, we’ve got one who was brought up in care, one who’s mum’s in prison and you want me to put Catherine through who works in a call centre and cites reading as one of her interests.’

Catherine was going out, Andy knew. She would go into the next day her spirits high and she would be sent home crushed, to deal with her sick father and to watch
the
others on the TV living the life that she had a chance at if she’d only pushed herself forward a bit more.

‘She
has
got a story,’ Andy blurted. He knew he shouldn’t be saying this, it wasn’t information about his own home life that he was divulging, it was a girl he barely knew who had entrusted him with a secret, but if he didn’t say something now she was going home.

‘She hasn’t, Andy, I asked her,’ Richard said, as if Andy was becoming tiresome.

‘Her dad’s got cancer,’ he blurted out.

Richard thought about it for a moment then said, ‘Well, it’s obviously not something she wants anyone to know about, otherwise she would have told me, wouldn’t she?’

‘And depression. And she’s been his carer for years. And she practically raised her younger sister.’

Richard looked at his wife with a glint in his eye that suggested that they may have struck gold. ‘What do you think?’

‘I think that if we run the VT of her dad bursting into the room and then we find out later that he has cancer then we have a genuine human interest story. People will watch Catherine because they’ll really care about her. Beats whatshername with the mother in the clink.’

Richard thought about it. ‘I’m not sure. She needs to be more honest with us.’

‘That’s true,’ Cherie said, ‘But I don’t think that you confronting her now is a good idea, Richard. You forget that you put the fear of God in people,’ Cherie said. ‘Give her a little bit more time to think about it.’

‘The fear of God?’ Richard asked, looking to Andy for confirmation.

Andy gulped. ‘Er, you are a bit scary sometimes.’ Andy silently berated himself for sounding like a minion. He coughed, ‘But with regards to Catherine,’ he said trying to regain his composure, ‘put her through and I’m sure she’ll tell you. She just needs to trust people. It’s not something you want to admit straight away to the entire nation.’

Richard looked at him as if he didn’t quite understand what he had said. Of course, Andy thought; people throw themselves at Richard every week, opening up about the most painful episodes in their life, just to get a taste of fame. He didn’t think Catherine was like this somehow. Andy was worried. Catherine could never know that this meeting had taken place, but if she didn’t admit what was going on at home, she might find herself back there far sooner than Andy hoped. He had to get her to say something or he had to get Richard to give her a chance. He wasn’t sure which was the easier option; he didn’t fancy either.

‘I’m sorry,’ Richard said, shaking his head, ‘We can’t put her through on the strength that she
might
, one day, want to tell us her story. It just won’t work.’

Cherie sighed. ‘I disagree,’ she said.

‘Well, that might be the case, my sweet,’ Richard said, demonstrating with dripping sarcasm that he definitely wore the trousers in their working relationship. ‘But it’s not going to happen.’

Andy’s heart sank but he shrugged and said, ‘OK that’s fine.’ What else could he say?

‘What’s up with you?’ Mick asked.

Why the bloody hell have I agreed not to say anything
to
Dad? Not even agreed, actually come up with the idea? ‘Nothing.’ Jo said trying to act casual when what she really wanted to do was take her dad by the hand and ask him what was going on.

‘You’re perched on the chair peering at me. It’s unnerving.’ Mick huffed, not taking his eyes off the Saturday TV offering.

Jo stood up quickly as if that somehow negated her perching and peering. ‘Can I get you a cup of tea?’ she asked.

‘Why?’ Mick shot her a look.

‘Why? Because I’d like to.’

‘Why would you like to?’

‘Bloody hell, Dad, I’d just like to, OK?’

‘Two sugars.’

‘I know you take two sugars.’ Even with the knowledge that her dad had cancer, Jo couldn’t help being short with him. He was unbelievable.

‘Well, it’s that sodding long since you’ve made me one that I thought you might have forgotten.’

Jo bit her tongue. ‘OK. Two sugars,’ she said, marching into the kitchen.

Jo put the kettle on and stood looking out of the kitchen window into the back garden. It had been a warm summer’s day and the sun was just setting behind the trees. The back garden hadn’t changed since Jo was a little girl. It was only a small patch of grass but as kids it had been big enough to play a game of two-a-side and to put their blow up paddling pool in on days like today. The garden was overlooked to one side by the next-door neighbour in the adjoining semi, an old lady called Ann
(Spitting
Annie, Mick called her, on account of her bad dentures and his claims that she left him drenched every time he spoke to her). To the other side there was a tall fence and the old garage which Mick used to house all sorts of rubbish that was one day – if he was to be believed – going to make him a small fortune at a car boot sale. The garden of 16 Verdun Road, Flixton was further enclosed by a tall wrought-iron gate and was a safe secluded oasis from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the world, which, to a child living on a main road, seemed to begin at their front door.