Devoted 2 : Where the Ivy Grows (19 page)

‘You like the outdoors, huh?’

‘I love it.’ I look out of the window. ‘There aren’t enough trees in London.’

‘Not enough ocean, either.’ Leo follows my gaze. ‘But it’s so alive, don’t you think? The city.’

I shrug. ‘I can take it or leave it.’

Leo smiles. ‘You’re not like other actresses, you know that? I’ve never met an actress like you.’

‘Is that a good thing?’

‘It’s refreshing. You’re easy to be around. Of course, it helps that you’re super pretty.’

A waiter hovers over us with two menus. ‘Champagne to start?’ he asks. ‘Or we have an excellent apple mojito. Perfect with our appetisers.’

‘Sophia?’ Leo asks. ‘You want champagne? A cocktail?’

I glance at the waiter, then back at Leo and whisper, ‘I think I’d rather have a beer.’

‘You’d rather a beer?’ Leo stage whispers back. ‘Okay!’

The waiter puts on a polite smile. ‘We have excellent Japanese beer. Two Kirin?’

‘Sounds good.’

I open my menu. ‘Is all this raw fish?’ I ask.

Leo laughs. ‘Not all of it. Why? You don’t like raw fish?’

‘I’ve never had it before.’ I chew a thumbnail.

‘You haven’t? It’s nice.’

I frown at the menu. There are all sorts of words I don’t know.

‘I’ll have the
lang-ous-tine as my main,’ I say, carefully. ‘That’s like prawn, isn’t it?’

Leo laughs again. ‘Sophia, this is like tapas, okay? You order more than one.’

‘Oh.’ I’m flustered, and the menu slips around in my hands. ‘Okay. Well the ceviche ... what kind of fish is that?’

‘It’s not a fish, honey. It’s a dish.’

‘Can you just order for me,’ I say, shoving the menu across the table, my cheeks burning. ‘That’ll be much easier.’

‘Sure.’ Leo takes the menu, just as the waiter comes with our beers. He orders, but I have no idea what. The only word that’s familiar is ‘caviar’, and I take a deep breath, remembering my first dinner with Marc.

‘So, how was your day?’ Leo asks.

‘Awful,’ I admit, taking a sip of beer. ‘Usually, I love performing. But not when someone picks holes in me the whole time.’

‘Try to see things from Davina’s point of view,’ says Leo. ‘She’s used to working with professionals.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Sorry. That sounded harsh. But I can see what she’s getting at, even though she doesn’t get at it in the best way. There’s a big difference between a drama student and a professional actor. You could use a little polishing.’

‘Polishing?’

‘Mmm.’ Leo nods as he swigs beer. ‘Fine tuning. So you’re not so self-conscious.’

‘
But the more she criticises me, the more self-conscious I get.’ I pick at the label on my beer.

‘You know, doing that means you’re sexually frustrated.’

My head snaps up. ‘Excuse me?’

Leo points his beer bottle at mine. ‘Peeling off beer labels. Sexually frustrated.’

I redden. ‘Oh, look. Here comes our food.’

The meal is truly delicious. I thought raw fish would taste really fishy, but it doesn’t at all. It tastes fresh and delicate, and it’s presented so beautifully that I’m half tempted to get my iPhone out and start taking pictures.

We eat delicate slices of raw salmon, spread on a bed of ice chips, and tacos filled with raw beef, covered in lemon juice, washed down with lobster and champagne soup.

‘You want to come out with me after dinner?’ Leo asks, finishing his second beer. ‘Come see a few London clubs?’

I shake my head. ‘I need to learn my lines.’

‘Very good. You’re a star pupil. No wonder ... oh, wait. No. I promised not to go there.’

‘What you said about me being unpolished.’ I use my fork to push ar
ound a piece of prawn shell. ‘What did you mean, exactly?’

‘Oh, just ... you can tell you haven’t acted professionally before. That’s all I mean. You’re too aware of who’s watching.’

‘And how do I stop that?’

Leo shrugs. ‘Hard to say. I guess it just comes with practise.’

‘So maybe, by the time we’re ready for the show, I’ll be better?’

‘You’ll be better, but I don’t know if you’ll be at the level that
Davina wants. It takes years to really, truly forget the audience.’

‘Years.’ I stare out of the window.

‘Are you drinking that beer?’ Leo asks.

I stare at the half-full bottle by my plate.

‘No.’

He reaches across and downs my beer in three large gulps. ‘You sure you don’t want to head out with me after dinner?’

I smile and shake my head. ‘I think the press have enough pictures of me for today.’ And there’s something else too – something I don’t say.
All I’ll be able to think about is Marc, anyway.

‘Are you okay there?’ Leo asks. ‘Looks like you’re thinking about something serious.’

‘It’s nothing.’ My fingers reach for my phone.

‘He didn’t call.’ Leo spins a fork on the table.

My fingertips freeze over my iPhone screen.

‘Look, you’ve checked that thi
ng every five minutes all night,’ says Leo. ‘He didn’t call. You would have heard it ring.’

I let my hand drop away. ‘And I thought I was being subtle.’

‘About as subtle as a rock. But I promised I wouldn’t mention the ‘B’ word, so ...’ Leo holds his hands up.

I sigh. ‘You’re right. He didn’t call. Or text.’

‘Hey. It could be worse. You could have a glitch with your phone and get 500 text messages a day, like me.’

‘You get 500 messages a day?’

Leo nods. ‘Sometimes more. My phone’s bust. It sends me duplicates. Sometimes triplicates.’

‘Can I take a look at it?’ I say.

‘Sure.’ Leo hands over a slim silver touch screen phone.

I take a look through the settings, then discover a software update and press it.

‘It’s a glitch with the phone,’ I say, handing it back to him. ‘But there’s an update that should fix it. It should work now.’

Leo’s eyes widen. ‘Wow. Software
girl. Who knew you had such hidden talents?’

I shrug. ‘I just like gadgets, that’s all.’

‘Shame you won’t come out dancing with me. You want me to call you a cab?’

I nod, my thoughts drifting to Marc again.
Marc would try to drop me off personally. Make sure I was safe. But he also just broke up with me.

‘Thanks,’ I say.
‘That would be great.’

Leo calls the waiter over. ‘One taxi cab for the little lady, here. And do you know any good clubs near here?’

The waiter gives a stiff smile. ‘Night clubs, sir?’

‘Yep.’ Leo slaps his back. ‘For dancing and romancing.’

‘Chinawhite is nearby.’ He glances at Leo’s jeans. ‘I think that might be the sort of thing you’re looking for.’

Leo stands. ‘You sure you don’t want to come with me? Last chance?’

‘No, I’d better head back. I should get an early night.’

The next morning, I’m woken by a knock at the door.

‘Soph.
Soph
.’

‘Tanya?’ I rub bleary eyes, glad that I’m not too hung over. My mouth is a little sticky, though, and I grab the glass of water by my bed and take a long gulp.

Setting the glass down, I throw the duvet around me and waddle to the door.

‘What time is it?’ I ask, pulling the door open.

Tanya’s in the hallway with a rolled up paper in her hand, practically hopping up and down. ‘Did you READ the paper?’ Her glasses are wonky, and her hair is all messed up. She’s wearing a navy dressing gown with yellow rope cord around the lapels.

‘I only just woke up.’ I stand aside so she can come into my bedroom.

Tanya hurries past me and throws herself on my bed. ‘That absolute cow Cecile. She’s done another number on you.’

I rub my eyes. ‘I kind of thought that
might happen. She was at the GMQ offices yesterday, so I guessed there might be something today.’

I sit beside her on the bed. My chest feels heavy.

‘Let’s see.’

Tanya lays the newspaper on the bed. There’s a big picture of Leo and
me on the front cover, outside Tottenham Theatre. Leo is flashing his big, handsome Hollywood grin, and my eyes are half shut as I try to slip out from under his arm. My hair is blowing everywhere, there’s a sheen of oil on my forehead and my unmade-up eyes look pale and tired.

It certainly doesn’t look like a romantic picture. I’m glad.

I blink at the headline.

Is Sophia Cheating?

Oh great. I read the article.

Slummy student, Sophia Rose, set tongues wagging yesterday when she dined with Beauty and the Beast star and Hollywood golden boy, Leo Falkirk.

The news of Sophia’s intimate dinner date may come as a shock to Marc, who only yesterday broke the news of his love for Sophia.

Falkirk looks besotted with the pretty brunette, but is he next in line for heartbreak?

‘Marc looked totally heartbroken when he taught our class,’ says fellow student, Cecile Jefferson. ‘You could tell Sophia has really got to him. She’s playing games and he’s hurting.

‘Sophia will sleep with anyone to get to the top. She’s completely callous and heartless. She doesn’t care who she hurts in her quest for fame. No one here gets why Marc likes her. She’s scruffy and common, and so not good enough for him or Leo. I don’t know what either of them sees in her.’

My first reaction is to laugh. It’s a slightly hysterical laugh, but a laugh nonetheless.

‘God, she just has no morals.’

‘Aren’t you furious?’ says Tanya. ‘I am.’

‘Don’t be,’ I say. ‘It’s pathetic. I just wonder how long it’ll take to repair the damage.’

‘You’ve got to stop her doing this,’ says Tanya.

‘I know,’ I say. ‘I just don’t know how. Yet.’

‘You said she was in the newspaper offices yesterday morning?’ says Tanya. ‘She hadn’t even had a lesson with Marc then. And how did they know you went out to dinner?’

‘Maybe she rang them up and gave them extra details.’

‘What a cow.’

‘She’ll get bored,’ I say.

‘But what if she doesn’t? Are you going to let her keep dragging your name through the mud?’

‘It’s partly my own fault,’ I say. ‘I agreed to do that publicity stunt with Leo yesterday. I guess Cecile must have overheard about the dinner, but ... like Leo said, live by the sword, die by the sword.’

When Tanya leaves, I dress in leggings and a sweatshirt and brush my teeth. I catch sight of myself in the bathroom mirror, my brown eyes tired.

Slummy Student.

I spit in the sink, swill my mouth out and hunt around the bathroom shelves for makeup. Eventually I find the pencil ca
se that holds my kohl pencil, mascara and other battered cosmetics.

I apply kohl all around my eyes, then mascara, then foundation, powder and cream blusher, before drawing on my eyebrows. Is that better? Am I less slummy now?

I catch a glimpse of my outfit in the full-length mirror, and turn to the side.

Scruffy and common.

I peel off my clothes, and dress in a long, green jumper dress and flat leather boots.

Will they leave me alone now?

‘Hey, what’s with all the make-up?’ Leo asks as I climb the stage at Queen’s Theatre.

My hand goes to my cheek. ‘Nothing, I just ... thought I should make more of an effort.’

‘For anyone in particular?’

‘No. Just me. Does it look bad or something?’

‘No, just ... not quite you.’

I spy Davina in the front row, tapping at her mobile phone, a steaming paper cup of coffee by her high heels.

She glances at me, then looks back at her phone.

‘Nice to see you on time for a change, Sophia.’

‘I’m sorry about yesterday,’ I say. ‘I’m never usually late.’

‘You have a fifty fifty record so far,’ says Davina.

I glance at Leo, but he’s busy scanning his script.

‘Right.’ Davina drops her phone into her handbag. ‘Let’s hope your voice is a little better today. I can dream, at least.’

‘I think Sophia’s got a great voice,’ says Leo.
‘Perfect for these songs. Really subtle. Pretty.’

‘Well, you and I are going to have to differ on that.’

‘I know I’m not a strong singer,’ I mutter. ‘I need to practise more. I will.’

‘Any news about you and Marc?’
Davina arches an eyebrow. ‘Is it any less
complicated
yet?’

‘I ... no. I
haven’t seen him.’ And he hasn’t called. Or left a message.