Tease (29 page)

She had one question in her head for Tiger. Why did she keep it secret? They could have been friends instead of sisters if only she had known. Sienna might have even felt a bit sorry for her that her own parents must have given her away. But in hiding the truth for so long, that opportunity was long gone. Sienna had of course wondered if she was adopted too. Usually couples adopted because they couldn’t have children … but Sienna dismissed the possibility after she had remembered how everyone used to comment about how much she took after her father.
Sienna found herself becoming angry that she’d been lied to. Her parents obviously kept it secret out of respect for Tiger, and now they were dead she would never know the full story. She couldn’t ask Tiger; if she hadn’t told the truth for the last twenty-nine years then she certainly wouldn’t start now.

Lance could help, thought Sienna with a flash of inspiration. If anyone could get to the bottom of it, he could. He had a way of talking to people and finding information. He could check facts and more importantly get the full low-down. Maybe he could even find Tiger’s real parents for her, perhaps find out why she had been given away? Then again, why should Sienna help a cold-hearted bitch like Tiger who could lie so easily for a lifetime? Sienna reached for her phone and dialled.

‘Lance? Sienna – er – Starr here … Listen, are you around for a coffee tonight? Yes, it’s urgent. Oh great, see you at Bar Italia. Eleven? Great. See you then.’

A collective gasp rang out at the spectacular vision as Tiger burst onto the stage in the magnificent Grand Ballroom to a rousing fanfare, all megawatt smiles and sparkling diamonds with the Starrlets prancing military fashion in synchronised lines behind her, dressed in cavalry helmets and cleverly designed harnesses. The ponytails in their helmets bobbed as they flounced to the music, mirroring Tiger’s own towering feather version as she strutted into position. The crowds all cheered and applauded as the
Starrlets turned their backs to the audience to reveal long shiny ponytails cheekily fixed to their harnesses at their peachy buttocks. As Tiger danced to the loud romping music, kicking up her powerful legs and then slowly stretching out her thighs from beneath her bustle, the Starrlets bobbed their tails perkily to the beat. They knew they looked fantastic and they were loving every minute. The energy was riding high and Tiger was holding it together, looking exquisite and, to Prince Romano and his unfeasibly glamorous guests, one hundred and ten per cent in control. All eyes were on her and boy did she work it. No one would have known that barely five minutes earlier thoughts of being shot to her death were the only things filling her head.

‘Go girl!’ squealed Nikki excitedly as the Starrlets all huddled inwards round Tiger as she strode to the horse, swiftly removing her bustle as she went. On the beat, the girls all turned, whipping out brass trumpets from the backs of their harnesses and miming to the deafening fanfare as Tiger swung herself elegantly into the saddle. They then marched into position as Tiger rode the horse to Prokofiev’s
Romeo and Juliet
. The crowds erupted as Tiger sailed through the air on rocking-horseback, its hundreds of thousands of crystals sending sparkles bouncing off the ballroom walls.

Tiger playfully kicked off her heels and languorously stretched out her long legs as she rocked, peeling off her stockings and pinging them off at her toes. Inside she was
trembling as her stomach muscles burned from holding the elegant position. Using one of her stockings as reins, Tiger nimbly hopped into the saddle with one manicured foot and delicately held her other foot between the horse’s ears in front of her coquettishly. She balanced on the horse like a statuesque 1940s circus girl to the raucous cheers of the crowds as she leaned back like a daredevil. She had mastered this move on the rearing stuffed polar bear at home; Pepper had been most impressed.

The audience gasped in awe at the showers of crystal sparkles dancing on the walls around them as Tiger commanded centre stage like a warrior, the tall plumes flowing from her headdress dramatically in the breeze as she rocked. Her smile was radiant, her body lithe and sensual. Beneath the veneer, Tiger’s head throbbed with the now-deafening sound of the audience closing in around her. No one would hear gunshot above this lot, would they? Would she die instantly? Do people hear the shot that kills them?

Faces in the front row began to loom sickeningly towards her. Were they cheering? Or sneering? She felt a bead of sweat dripping from her temples. She glanced at the Starrlets high kicking their hearts out, and registered Georgia’s face smiling back at her, morphing in Tiger’s mind into a hideous Joker grin. She remembered Ocean’s warnings to her. Was Georgia behind the notes? Was she going to step into her shoes for good tonight?

Hang on in there, thought Tiger to herself, just hang
on, she thought, trying to concentrate on carefully manoeuvring into an impressive arabesque. Another roll of cheers. She was relieved her legs obviously knew what they were doing at least. She caught sight of the stage manager in the wings as her hamstrings stretched out excrutiatingly. Where’s Blue? There’s no sign of Blue in the wings? He was supposed to be looking out for her. Tiger felt her grip slipping on the silk stocking as her palms became clammy. Sweat dripped from her brow into her eye, stinging as she held her pose. She could see four of everything, fading in and out of focus as the music pounded sickeningly in her head. Is that stage-hand pointing something at me? thought Tiger, unable to see clearly with her blurred, salty vision. He’s pointing something! Where’s Blue? Is something happening back there? God, I’m slipping …

‘Pow!’ came a deafening bang. Tiger screamed, tumbling from the horse as colossal jets of flutterfetti spewed up into the huge domed ceiling. The audience gasped as Tiger scrambled up and pelted from the stage under a sparkling rain of glitter, covering her face with her arm as she pushed through the path of the shocked Starrlets. The gasps turned to a swell of jeers and catcalls. Blue caught her tearing into the wings like a banshee as Georgia seamlessly stepped into Tiger’s role on stage and started teasing with her horsetail to adoring whoops and applause.

‘Jesus Christ, Tiger, get a grip! What the hell’s wrong with you!’

‘G-g-gun shot …’

‘What on earth? It was just the fucking confetti cannons – don’t you remember, you asked for them! Get your arse back out there!’

‘I c-c-an’t.’

‘Go!’

‘I can’t!’ screamed Tiger, looking back at the stage to see Georgia spinning her nipple tassels to rapturous applause. ‘It’s too late, goddammit!’

‘Oh Jesus and Mary, you’ve really screwed up this time, babes. What the hell’s got into you?’ yelled Blue, shaking her roughly by the shoulders.

Unable to bear being screamed at by Blue, her rock, her ally, Tiger fled to her dressing room, slamming and locking the door behind her.

Poppy clutched at her throat, feeling it constricting as she gulped for air behind the locked door. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, trying to remind herself what was real. What was happening to her? She thought she was going to die as she gasped for breath and tried to swallow. She felt a huge weight on her shoulders and chest, and a foreboding sense of dread deep within her. She felt paralysed with fear.

Poppy daren’t look at the pregnancy test lying there on the floor; that little blue line on the white plastic stick like a meteor crashing through her childhood. As if the rape wasn’t enough, now this? She had never felt so alone, so isolated as she stood there in the bathroom. She tried to calm her breathing down. She leaned over and splashed water from the tap into her mouth with her trembling hand, trying to swallow the cool liquid; hoping it might settle the churning feeling in her stomach. Who could help her now?

Stricken, she just stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to even cry. What was going to happen to her? She knew this had to be her punishment for what happened with Mr Rogers. She must have led him on somehow, it must
have been her fault, and now this … this was her punishment. She should have gone to mass like she was supposed to. Perhaps if she had gone to confession none of this would have happened.

Poppy’s mind raced and she sank to the carpet under the weight of her fear. How long would it take for someone to notice a bump? It was nearly four months ago since the night with Mr Rogers, and Poppy already had a bit of a podge. She had thought it was all the extra food; she had been feeling quite sick on and off for a few weeks and at first Mother had been feeding her up with lots of mashed potato, saying it would line her stomach and soak up any ‘bad water’. When the sickness kept coming back, she made Poppy drink gallons of hot sweet tea as her fail safe ‘cure’ for everything. The thought of a cup of sweet tea being the cure for her pregnancy made Poppy convulse with panic. She pulled her school jumper over her stomach and rolled onto the carpet, letting the tears come. And they came. She was barely able to silence the sound of her sobs as they wracked her little body.

‘Of course, I just knew something was up before she even boarded the plane. She’d been quiet ever since that cake fight at the Three Little Pigs.’

‘Uh huh.’

‘Well, just after I took her down to the stage I whizzed back up to her dressing room. She’d never be any good at covering up a murder you know; she’d only left the latest bloody letter ripped in two in the bin!’ Blue slammed his pink 1974 Triumph Spitfire down into third gear as he screeched into Regent’s Park like Penelope Pitstop in her Compact Pussycat.

‘Get away. Was she scared, then?’

‘Scared of what? I haven’t told you what was in it yet.’

‘Oh, I assumed – well you said all the letters have been pretty weird.’

‘Yes. Well, this one said something about shooting her.’

Richie was silent for a moment as they cruised down the dappled, tree-lined road, the sun winking between the cover of the green leaves. Blue had the roof down on the Triumph and it was garnering a few stares. Or rather, the boys were – gorgeous Richie with his twinkling big brown eyes and flawless skin, with the whole striking, über-groomed
hulk of Blue literally shoehorned into the driver’s seat next to him.

‘You see, darling, because Tiger’s kept the letters quiet, she can’t tell anyone she thought she heard gunshot. Everyone just thinks she’s losing it! The papers are having a field day with all these bloody stories; S&M vice dens, assaulting fans, missile warfare in the most exclusive tearooms this side of Paris; and now scared half to death by a ton of glitter? Nuts!’ Blue pumped the brakes for a jogger weaving on the road. ‘Get a “Wide Load” sign for god’s sake!’ yelled Blue as he passed, swerving violently.

‘So you really think people reckon Tiger’s losing it?’

‘Course! If the Americans have been keeping their eyes on this little lot then I reckon her show’s hanging by a thread. No one wants a one-woman freakshow circus as their leading lady. I know Lewis has been fielding calls from them the last couple of days. Prince Romano was not best pleased about the hiccup, and word gets round in this business. It’s a travesty, it was all going so well, like a vision. I never thought I’d say this but thank fuck for Georgia, at least she put herself out there and finished off the show as best she could.’

‘Yeah, shame. I mean, poor Tiger, having to be upstaged by Georgia, huh?’

‘What? No way, it’s impossible for a streak of piss like Georgia to upstage her. But Tiger didn’t cover herself in glory that night, I can tell you that for nothing. If she just dropped the “independent lady” act and was upfront about
the anonymous threats instead of always thinking she needs to take care of everything herself, we could have had this thing nipped in the bud from the start. As it is, it’s way out of hand now.’

‘Hmm. So she’s quite fragile then?’

‘Yeah, I reckon. Never seen her like this. And after everything she’s been through in her life.’

‘Oh?’

‘Well, what I told you the other night was only – god, what
did
I tell you the other night? You were pouring the Martinis down me …’

‘Oh you didn’t have that many! But you know you can always talk to me about
anything
you know … a problem shared and all that.’

‘Is a problem doubled.’

‘Oh thanks! You saying you can’t trust me?’

‘Yes. No! Oh shit, sorry, no … oh, of course I trust you!’

‘It’s okay, don’t worry. I know it’s personal stuff, darling. Look, I didn’t mean to be nosy … I don’t know, I just feel a bit sorry for her that’s all. What you gonna do?’

‘Well, that’s why we’re heading back now with a car full of goodies! Thought some new frocks might cheer her up. Rex and Sienna have put together a BBC radio interview today so she can give some kind of chatty, endearing public explanation for her recent humiliation. It’s a damage limitation thing, you know, give her the chance to show she ain’t nuts. I think they’re doing a tour of the house,
like a kind of “opening the doors on the glamorous but hardworking life of a National icon”. The last I heard, Rex briefed her to say she suffers from low blood sugar and that she passed out, and thanks to her marvellous Starrlets the show went on blah blah, wank wank. Oh, the perils of being a showgirl and all that.’

‘Hmm. Smart.’

‘Yeah, although it doesn’t help that she’s lost so much weight recently, knowing the press they’ll even turn that round to make out like she’s been starving herself to the brink of collapse or something sensational.’

‘Wow, it really is a big mess right now,’ breathed Richie, almost cheerfully. Blue regarded him with a wary sideways glance.

‘Yes, well she won’t be in it for much longer, I can assure you of that. Tiger’s a winner. She’s come this far from nothing and she’s staying,’ snapped Blue as he swung sharply into Tiger’s driveway, sending the neatly raked gravel flying up in a mini tidal wave over the group of paparazzi camped outside. Blue yanked up the handbrake and cut the engine with a loud ‘phut’.

‘Oh I didn’t mean – oh I’m just trying to be supportive, darling, anything that makes you unhappy makes me unhappy too.’ Richie squeezed Blue’s knee. ‘I – I really didn’t realise Tiger was in such a bad way. Honestly I didn’t. She might lose her show … and after everything you … Jeez. Sorry.’ Blue looked at Richie’s big brown eyes. He leaned in for a kiss, but instead of the usual
butterflies, he felt a faintly nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach.