‘You won? The other teams must have been really thick.’
‘They were. You’d think Bono and The Edge would have known that Dublin was the capital of Ireland.’
He’s kidding, right?‘U2 were not at your pub quiz.’
He smiled, and I found myself smiling back.
Just as I began to feel like the sky wasn’t about to fall on our heads, Jonny stomped over and the walls started closing in again.
‘Hello?’ he said. ‘Earth to the lovebirds. I’ve been finished for five minutes. Are we going to do this interview or what?’
I tried to stand, but my limbs weren’t responding. Jonny was staring at me, waiting for an answer, but the only part of me willing to co-operate was my upchuck reflex. Oh God, that would be a disaster. I swallowed hard and looked at Nick, but all his attention was on Jonny.
‘We’re only here for the pictures. Zoë’s not here to interview you.’
I wasn’t?
‘Then why the fuck is she here then?’
Good question.
‘Because, Jonny, you insisted you get face time with the editor ofRe:Sound, which is what I arranged. That doesn’t mean you get to choose who interviews you.’
‘So when do we do the interview?’
‘Later.’
Jonny pulled a face. ‘But I’ve got to pick up the Ducati later.’
‘The Ducati will have to wait.’
I should have stepped in and told them I would do the interview, but Nick was so convincing, I half believed that this had been the plan all along and that Jonny wasn’t the only one who’d been misinformed.
Nick peered over our heads towards the door. ‘We’re nearly back on the ground, anyway.’
He was right. We were only a few feet away from terra firma. The capsule suddenly didn’t feel quite so small and enclosed. A sea of people in the queue had their faces turned towards us. Among them were some very excited girls who’d arrived because Jonny had probably Instagrammed pictures of his naked swimmer.
When the door opened, the fresh air energised me like a hit of caffeine. I stepped onto solid ground, my legs less wobbly with each step. Jonny was immediately swallowed up by the crowd, but then his bodyguards appeared to ferry him towards a waiting Range Rover, leaving me, David and Nick to fend off the disappointed fans.
It didn’t take long. Most of the girls quickly realised their prey had sped off in the opposite direction, so they didn’t waste time hanging around us.
One of the last to leave was a brunette girl in school uniform, who looked about thirteen. Her closing shot was to tell me in rather grown-up language that Jonny had no interest in ‘an old slag like me’ and that I ‘should fucking well watch my back’.
Charming.
David promised to have some shots for me tomorrow morning and headed back to the tube, leaving me alone with Nick. There was so much I wanted to tell him, and this was the perfect chance. But before I could speak, Nick was moving towards the main road and raising his arm to hail a cab.
‘Jonny has some crazy fans,’ I said as I followed.
He stopped abruptly and I almost went into the back of him. ‘You don’t know the half of it.’ The taxi he’d been hoping to stop sailed past us. He glanced at his watch and grimaced. He was obviously in a hurry, but I couldn’t let him leave without acknowledging what he’d done.
‘I wanted to thank you,’ I said, ‘For... you know.’
‘Organising the interview?’
‘No. Well, yes. But not just that.’
The words wouldn’t come. It didn’t help that he had his full attention on me now. The gaze that had darted up and down the road searching for a free cab was now searching me. The whites of his eyes were really white and it made his stare even more intense. I wanted to squirm and wriggle free, but couldn’t. Where’s a rabid Jonny fan when you need one?
