The Wrong Girl (20 page)

Sasha was openly appalled by Lily's decision. She'd immediately questioned whether it was a reaction to being passed over for the promotion, which Lily had adamantly denied, but Sasha seemed to have made up her mind. Given Lily's lack of immediate prospects, Sasha felt she was being a quitter, and in Sasha's eyes, there was nothing worse, except perhaps nude lips.

Reluctantly holding Lily's exit-interview form, Sasha looked at Lily, not saying anything for a few seconds.

‘Lily, I'd like for you to stay.'

Lily wasn't quite sure she was hearing correctly.

‘I'm not going to piss in anyone's pocket, but you are by far our top segment producer. Lord knows what I'm going to do with your shadow of a co-worker. And as for Jack, he clearly adores working with you. The food segment is a genuine
Daily
highlight. Lily, what I'm saying is the show needs you. Now, I know you'd still like to work in TV, and I'm not saying I have something specific in mind to offer just now, but don't think you'll be stuck producing gnocchi and chitchat in a fake kitchen forever if you stick around.'

Lily, unused to hearing praise from Sasha, flushed with awkwardness. Did this mean Sasha was
finally
going to promote her? Or was she just saying that to keep her on? Lily knew better than to fall for gilded boss talk, the type that promised whatever it took when faced with an unsavoury turn of events. Even Sasha wasn't immune to this, she realised, slightly dismayed.

Her brain started hurling glorious possibilities at her before a) remembering who the new sheriff in town was, and b) becoming angry that it took Lily's resigning before Sasha told her she was an asset.

‘I'm sorry, Sasha, and thank you, that's very kind of you to say. I just, I really do need a fresh start right now.'

Sasha nodded, disheartened. Oh well, thought Lily, annoyed. Too little, too late. Lily wasn't just some puppet Sasha could manipulate as she pleased. As she watched Sasha sign the form, Lily felt something rise within her. Pride? Self-assurance? Sure, she was now jobless and had refused a fictional but potentially better position from the woman she admired most in her industry, but it was on her terms, and somewhere deep in that part of the soul or gut or symbolic golden butterfly chamber that existed in self-help books, it felt
right
.

Sasha took off her glasses and handed the form back to Lily, peering at her in a puzzled fashion.

‘Are you sure this is the right thing to do, Lily?'

‘Yes,' Lily said softly, hoping to Heston Blumenthal she was right.

‘Very well. I assume there will be formal goodbyes soon, so we won't entertain that portion of this particular ritual just now.'

A small smile, and the glasses were back on, her sleek computer screen again her focus.

Lily nodded and smiled, feeling like a slave who'd upset her master. A common feeling when it came to Sasha. No! Actually, suck it, Sasha, she thought defiantly. I tried my best and you never noticed until now. Next time maybe value your staff more, Lily thought as she walked out of Sasha's office and back to her desk.

Running her eyes over her leaving papers, Lily discovered that contractually she was only required to give one week's notice. Which she had just given. That left her a full week at home to organise her hairy, pale body, and buy a decent bikini before she flew out to Greece in a fortnight. Perfect. At a slight loss as to what to do next, Lily sat in her chair and started compiling a handover document for whoever would be taking her role. She stuck her head up over the partition and looked at Dale, who was busy picking something out of his teeth with one of the laminated fire-safety cards that were stuck onto everyone's desk.

It seemed highly unlikely he would be the next in line, even if technically he was the most knowledgeable and competent. Jack seemed to like him well enough, but Jack was now so confident in his role, he barely required anything more than his brief and some help making space in the set fridge.

A text from Alice interrupted Lily's thoughts.

Lily smiled with relief. She was
so
glad Alice was free tonight, and that there would be ample alcohol available for consumption. She missed Alice so much; her energy was such a positive, playful force in the office. She couldn't wait to work with her again and be in a judgement-free environment of daily M&Ms and Fanta once more. She had no idea who Carlos was – he could be a trapeze artist Alice had met on set that week, or he could be her new fiancé, it was hard to say.

Lily realised she should text Sim so she knew she had the house to herself. And text in a way that didn't imply Lily knew Jack would be going over.

Pleased with her gentle deception and knowing full well Simone would
never
come to the inner west, Lily stood up and went to tell Dale her news.

‘They are gonna be the new big thing, for
real
,' cried Alice, whose hair was now peroxide-blonde, evolving roots notwithstanding, and cut into a wispy, elfin bob that seemed to make her eyes bigger and her cheekbones even more extraordinary. With her red mini tunic dress and knee-high flat boots she looked like she should be on stage, possibly sometime during the Beatles' reign, but she was a sight to behold on the filthy beer-slippery dance floor nonetheless. Men brave enough to dance tried to sidle up next to her, and others content with nursing their lagers by the wall watched her dance joyously to the music; this strange, beautiful nutbag who didn't seem to quite fit the ‘from Earth' brief.

Carlos turned out to be a nuclear dud: a classic suit hunting for a manic pixie dream girl to transport him from the banality of his dreary, stressful existence to a movie montage of wild sex and happy-go-lucky living. He was on his phone constantly during dinner, and then excused himself to go outside for a call for so long that Alice and Lily bought a bottle of wine and set off to the dance floor without him. It was packed, he would never find them, and that was completely fine. Why he'd come at all – he was
clearly
more of a scotch on the rocks/cocaine/oysters guy than a pub live-music guy – was a mystery, but such was the Alice effect.

‘The drummer is a good sort. A VERY good sort,' Lily yelled to Alice over the noise, waiting until Alice spun one of her ears in her general direction. She swayed and danced to the music, drunk enough to forget her high heels were killing her, and gazed upon the lovely dark-haired drummer, who remarkably, seemed to be looking back at her, and smiling, too. She looked behind her, but Alice had made sure they were at the very front of the dance floor, and there were only drunk, glazed-eyed guys behind her, it was definitely Lily he was smiling at.

She looked back at him and he smiled again. Now, suddenly self-conscious despite at least five glasses of white wine, Lily reigned in her dancing and tucked her hair behind her ears. It was touching her collarbones again, she really should get it cut, she thought. Or should she? She was a wild and carefree freelancer now, who
knew
what might evolve, appearance-wise! Maybe she would buy a bike and start wearing wide-rimmed black spectacles and collared shirts with men's loafers and backpacks. Anything was possible.

The singer, a Johnny Depp doppelganger who seemed happiest when his hair was completely covering his face, announced the set was over and Lily burst into rapturous applause and whistling. Alice joined in as much she could while holding a wine glass.

‘Drink, drink, drink, need a drink,' Alice said, eyes wild, skin damp with sweat and joy.

‘Yes, yes, let's go, the wolves are circling.'

‘Good! One day they won't, and then we'll wish they were.' Alice winked at a cute boy in a beanie behind Lily and then started walking off to the bar, yanking Lily's hand as she went.

‘How about that
singer
? I would do him in the fucking fire stairs this
second
if he asked. He's got that mystical rock-star vibe, hasn't he? Wouldn't look twice at him on the street, but up there . . . he's like a musical Jesus.'

The two girls reached the bar and gently pushed their way into a front-row-ish position. Alice whisked a wine list out from underneath a guy's almost empty beer glass without it so much as tipping the glass and he turned to stare at her, slack-jawed. She grinned at him and started reading the list.

‘I like the drummer, actually,' said Lily. ‘He smiled at me, I think. Or maybe his girlfriend was behind me or something, but I —'

Alice stopped reading the wine list and turned to face her friend.

‘He smiled at
you
! Where is your self-confidence, Woo? You spend all your time pining over a guy who's banging your flatmate: WHAT CAN POSSIBLY COME OF THAT? What's gonna change? You're cock-blocking your
self
, for fuck's sake.'

Alice was looking at Lily as though it personally insulted her that Lily had a thing for Jack.

‘Well, no, hang on a seco—'

‘Don't you want more? More men, more from Jack, just more
something
?'

Alice's words rang loud and true, even over the terrible house music. Lily had no defence. Alice was right. She did want more.
Why was she wasting her time on Jack?
He was off limits. Always had been. He was never going to go for her. And whether he was with Simone or not, Lily couldn't go there. Lily suddenly became furious with herself for allowing this charade to have run this long. What was she hoping would happen? Jack would one day mysteriously fall out of love with his blonde goddess and go for his ratbag producer? Yes, because
that
happened all the time.

Even if Simone had irrevocably ruined things by sleeping with Michael, Lily couldn't very well collect her heartbroken leftovers and think it would go karmically unnoticed. Lily was shocked at just how pointless her feelings for Jack were.
It would never amount to anything.
And there was no better time to get over him than right this second.

‘You're right. No, you really are,
don' look at me like that
, I mean it! I've thought aboudit, and I'm
done
. No more. Egh, it's such – a – fucking – waste – of
time
.'

‘I will hold you to this, Woodfart. Now you can start letting men fall in love with you, instead of the other way round. Deal?
Hi!
Yes, two double-vodka pineapples, please.'

Lily had forgotten Alice's love for doubles. Saved you going back to the bar, she maintained, forgetting the way Lily's body liked to handle spirits, which was with extreme resistance and, quite often, rapid and violent expulsion. Alice pulled a glittery purple wallet out of her tiny black messenger bag and dumped it on the bar, before suddenly squinting at something over Lily's left shoulder.

‘Okay. So. The drummer's over there by the back bar, some bald guy too . . .  he's with some busty wench, forget him.
OOH
, Musical Jesus is there. How wonderful. They're drinking beers . . . mingling . . . The drummer keeps looking over here. A LOT. Lucky him; he's about to meet his dreamweaver. Why did you put your hair back? No, no, no, out, out, give me that.'

‘Cos I was hot, from danci—'

Alice leaned over and yanked the elastic from Lily's hair.

‘Ow!
FUCK!
Why'd'you have to be sucha goddamn maniac all your life?'

‘Shh . . . Okay, here's your drink, yum-yum, have a
big
sip, now we're going over there and you're going to flirt with Drums like you're a professional lap dancer.'

Yes, she was, Lily confirmed to herself. It would act as the perfect full stop to the Jack business, and if all went well, and Drums didn't have an adoring wife or girlfriend back in bloody Nimbin or wherever he was from, Lily might even be able to clean the slate thoroughly tonight.

She took a swig from her tall glass of potent, sugary juice and nodded affirmatively.

‘Rock'n'roll.'

Lily opened one eye and tried to locate her bearings. Even
one
bearing would suffice at this stage. She was in a nondescript room, and she was in a bed, and there was a guy's naked torso, untanned and slightly freckled, next to hers, and he was facing the other side of the bed and snoring lightly, and every pore of his body reeked of alcohol.

Or maybe it was hers.

Lily noted with an unwarranted amount of self-pride that she was still wearing her bra and knickers, but the memory of removing those items in a drunken, wild session with the gent laying next to her came back like a swift punch. Fucking Alice and her double vodkas, Lily thought as she wiped her eyes with both hands in an effort to see and think and do the kind of normal activity non-hungover people took for granted every day.

Before she beat herself up like she usually did after letting her hair down, she permitted herself a smile. She remembered the fun of the night, hanging with the band like a couple of misfit groupies, drinking and dancing, then kissing the amorous drummer (whose name Lily thought
might
be Kai but she couldn't be sure), then the ugly lights coming on, and the whole group, all of the band and some of the crew, Alice and Lily and a handful of twenty-year-old model types who'd laid claim to the band well before Alice and Lily strutted in, moved back to this weird, sterile serviced apartment the band were staying in and did shots of rum and smoked joints and danced.

It was a very,
very
fun night, Lily had to concede, despite the fact her body was seconds away from shrivelling up in dehydration. As she carefully unwrapped herself from the sheets and tiptoed around the room looking for her jeans, top, bag,
anything
, she wondered if Alice was still here. If she
was
, she would be ensconced in the arms of her latest soulmate. She and the singer had kissed within around three minutes of being introduced, which would have been Alice's instigation. Most girls would be labelled unstable if they told a guy they'd just met they were about to kiss them, but when Alice did it, it seemed somehow normal in its abnormality. Like she was just playing her role in a quirky rom-com, and he was just playing his, and everything was perfectly as it should be.

Dressed and thankfully in possession of her bag, shoes and phone, Lily carefully opened the door and crept into the living room, home to three million empty beer bottles and as many overflowing ashtrays, and more shoes than Lily remembered there being people with feet to own them. One of the young girls, Jessica, or
Mess
ica, as the drummer referred to her while watching her make out with two separate roadies, then dance/cry/vomit at various stages of the night, was sleeping daintily in a foetal position on the enormous lounge, and the band manager, a huge, bald, burly guy in a Lakers shirt, was squished into a small armchair, snoring with the power and roar of an industrial generator.

No Alice. And all the other bedroom doors were closed. Lily feared what she might find should she open any of them, and with her phone out of battery she couldn't text, so she made an executive decision to leave the apartment and hope that Alice was still sound asleep in the arms of her Musical Jesus. Thankfully, it was early enough that Lily could get away with only the very earliest of dog walkers' judgy eyes on her atrocious appearance and humiliating taxi hunt.

Once home, Lily removed her heels and placed them by the door, snuck inside, and crept upstairs to her bedroom. She plugged in her phone and left it to charge as she showered, letting the hot water wash over her body. She scrubbed her skin and washed her hair and found herself having flashbacks of her early-morning session with Kai. It had been a
long
time between drinks, she conceded, but that didn't take anything away from his impressive skills. She'd never really enjoyed men going down ‘there', but he seemed to have read a secret manual no other guy she'd been with had. She smiled, her face flushing at the memories popping up without warning or invitation.

She was grateful Alice had bullied her into getting her rascal on. She never needed to see or speak to Kai again, she confirmed, feeling strangely empowered in her decision to have a one-nighter and not feel emotionally bereft in her sleep-deprived, hungover fog, which was how it usually panned out. No, in fact she felt
GOOD
! Her mojo seemed to have finally returned; all that was missing now was an upbeat disco track and a buoyant street strut.

For the first time in a long time, life felt exciting, and fun, and full of potential. Like she had been neglecting her carefree, spontaneous side for far, far too long, stuck in a day-to-day existence of work/home and secretly pining for a man who was never going to pine for her. She had, as Alice brutally but correctly pointed out, lost the plot. And it only took three litres of booze and a frisky young drummer to find it again.

Towelling off her wet hair, which, despite two rounds of shampoo, still reeked of cigarette smoke, Lily checked her phone. A text had come through, sent at 4.25 a.m.

Lily quickly tapped out a reply.

Smiling, Lily chucked the phone back on the bed and rustled through her drawers for a T-shirt and tracksuit pants to cocoon herself in and sleep this atrocious, thirsty, blissful body back to health. But first, something sugary and watery to coat her mouth and poor, suffering liver.

A thought popped up: Jack wouldn't be here, would he? Would he have stayed last night? Maybe, if Simone hadn't told him the truth. Or maybe he left in a daze after being told his girlfriend had cheated on him. Or maybe he'd never come over and nothing had happened either way. Lily considered putting a bra on in case he galloped down the stairs on his way out, as he had done a couple of times in the past, but then, remembering she no longer cared about him Like That, kept on walking downstairs. What happened between those two was of no consequence to her. Concern because they were both friends, but not consequence.

Reaching the fridge, a wave of nausea rose in Lily's stomach, and she realised she needed something in that poor, acidic, gurgling pit or things might get
really
unsavoury. Dear God, let there be some normal toast in this freezer, she thought, as she waded through frozen berries and pre-cooked soups from Baroness von Healthypants. There were brown rice and spelt gypsy wraps; that would have to do. She could slather them in peanut butter and honey.

‘You're home,' she heard Simone say on her way down the stairs. Lily looked up to see her flatmate, all three kilos of her, in gym leggings and crop top, barely covered by a small purple Victoria's Secret hoodie. Lily looked at the oven for the time; it was not even seven yet.

‘Just. Well, in body anyway. It was,' she exhaled through dry lips, ‘a big one. Too big. Alice led me astray.'

Simone smiled faintly; her eyes were sad and devoid of their usual spark. She wasn't sporting her usual year-round fake tan, and her hair was greasy. This wasn't the Simone Lily knew. She was clearly still in a bad place. A stab of guilt pierced Lily, was she a witch for going out last night? Should she have been home here with her friend in need? But Jack had mentioned he was coming over . . .

Simone walked down the stairs, sitting on the second-last step to put her shoes and socks on.

‘Good. It's been too long since you've had some fun, babe.' Her voice was weak and full of false energy.

‘Off to the gym then?' Lily asked, wondering how to get past platitudes to ask how her friend was doing.
Really
doing.

‘Mmm, doing TRX then pilates. Double hit. Got a shoot Monday, need to firm up.'

‘Are you kidding me? Sim, you probably weigh less than that sneaker right now.' The words were out before she realised how inflammatory they might be.

A cloud fell across Simone's face.

‘It's not
deliberate
.' Her voice trembled and she lowered her head so that she was facing the floor as she yanked her shoes on roughly.

‘I'm sorry. I didn't, my brain, I just . . . I'm sorry.' Lily walked over to Simone and stood awkwardly by the bottom of the banister, wondering where to from here.

‘Are you – how are you feeling today, about you know, just, everything . . .?'

Simone, still with her head down, wiped a tear from her face.

‘Jack broke up with me last night. No surprises there, I guess.'

‘Oh, Sim . . . oh shit. I'm so sorry . . .' She sat down next to her friend and placed her right arm around her tiny frame. Simone nuzzled her head into Lily's armpit and cried. Lily, operating at about fifteen watts, sunk to around three, her eyes filling with tears in sympathy for her friend. Her heart broke for Simone, for a thousand reasons. Her friend was blessed and cursed in such equal measure.

After a few minutes, Simone, sniffing and wiping her nose and eyes, lifted her head. She shook her head.

‘I deserved it. It was always going to happen. The Michael shit was just the nail in the coffin, babe.'

‘Do you really believe that?'

‘I do. He liked me because I was friendly and he was new to the city and I was a bit of an accelerator, to be honest. You know what I'm like . . . And me, I thought I wanted a guy who was settled and stable and . . . 
normal
, but we're just such different people, you know? He's so set in his life. Like, we have fun, and he's gorge, and he treats me well, but I just, I'm more about living in the present, and having fun, and with work being so full on and all the travel and —'

‘Sim, you don't need to apologise for your life. It's an amazing life; people would kill for it. Plus, you're only twenty-six. This is exactly the time for you to be partying hard and livi—'

‘Do you think I party too much?' She sounded wounded.

‘Are we being honest or polite?'

Simone sighed. ‘Honest, I suppose.'

‘It's not even really the partying. It's the constant self-medicating. Uppers, downers, sleepers, wide-awakers  . . . You take something to clean the house, for God's sake. I find it confusing, I guess, since you're so pure and holy about everything else you put into your body.'

‘Jeez, you make me sound like Anna Nicole Smith.' She laughed hollowly.

Lily could only look at her friend. Simone's smile faded and her eyes registered what Lily was saying.

‘What have you taken today, as an example? From last night to right now.'

‘Oh, come
on.
Find me someone who doesn't take a few Benzos after a break-up.'

‘Anything else?'

‘And then I couldn't sleep so at about two I had some . . . I think it was Ambien. Yeah. That's all though.'

‘I honestly don't even know how you're up and functioning. Did you have anything this morning?'

‘The contraceptive pill; is that allowed, Sergeant?'

Suddenly, Simone shot up and started walking to the door, grabbing her keys from the bowl on the way.

She whirled around as she opened the front door.

‘You know what, babe? I don't need this. Not today. I really thought you might be a bit more supportive, to be honest.' Tears made it a struggle for her to talk, but before she could clear her throat, she was gone, the door closing loudly behind her.

Lily sat on the stairs and slumped her head onto her arms. What a big fucking mess she'd made of that.