Page 142 of Private Lives


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Sam laughed. ‘How about we get out of here and find a drink?’

‘It’s a bit mental out front,’ said Anna. ‘Is there a back way?’

Sam put his hand lightly on the back of Anna’s shoulders and led her through the corridors towards the stage door. Already they could hear a rabble in the street behind the theatre. ‘Mike! Sam!’ came the chant. ‘Mike! Sam!’

Anna turned to Sam, her face half frightened, half excited.

‘What do we do now?’

Sam slipped his hand into hers, enjoying the feel of her smooth palm. ‘When I say run, put your head down and leg it, okay?’

‘Just like the old days, eh?’ laughed Mike, flinging open the metal door and charging out, arms outstretched like some cult leader meeting his followers. He was immediately swamped by bodies patting him on the back, thrusting programmes at him to sign, holding up mobile phones to get a snap. For a moment Sam thought they had managed to hide in Mike’s shadow, but suddenly the night was lit up by flashbulbs, hands were grabbing at his clothes, people were screaming his name. He’d been through this before, of course, only a matter of months ago, even if it seemed like a lifetime. But this was different. In Hollywood, he had been like some exotic creature paraded in front of the fans, something fantastic and unreal. Here the fans weren’t just here to worship at the altar of celebrity; they wanted to speak to him, to make a connection, tell him how much they had enjoyed what he did. It was a completely different energy: supportive, encouraging, a sense of a shared experience. Sam wanted to cry with happiness.

‘You go on, meet your public,’ whispered Anna into his ear. ‘I’ll get a taxi.’

Sam looked around for her, but he was surrounded. Grinning, he took the proffered pens and began scribbling dedications, posing for pictures.

Then, above the hubbub, he heard a loud whistle and turned. Anna and Mike were standing next to a black cab, waving their arms.

‘Come on, you twonk!’ shouted Mike. ‘I think we all need some booze.’

Muttering apologies to the fans, Sam dashed across the road and jumped inside, laughing. Anna slammed the door as the cabby pulled away at speed.

‘Well how about we head on down to the Midnight Mash?’ said Mike, pulling a flyer from his back pocket.

‘What’s that?’ asked Anna.

‘“Irreverent humour in a crypt”,’ read Mike in a Christopher Lee-style baritone. ‘Probably wall-to-wall goth birds mad for some comedy celebrity lovin’.’

Sam glanced over at Anna nervously.

‘I should probably lie low, to be honest,’ he said. ‘Don’t want to undo all the good work we put in tonight.’

‘I don’t know how you live like this,’ said Mike, whistling between his teeth. ‘Come on, I’ve been living on an island for seven years. The ladies have been pining for me. I can’t let them down.’

Sam laughed.

‘I would love to be your wingman tonight, but I’m in enough trouble as it is. I’m just waiting for my agent to call me and ask why I’ve gone rogue.’

‘Come on, Anna,’ whined Mike. ‘Tell him he needs to come to the crypt.’

Anna pulled a face. ‘I agree with Sam. “Hollywood Heart-throb in Vampire Sex Orgy” on the front of News of the World might be slightly counterproductive at this stage.’

‘Right then, you pair of old fogeys,’ said Mike as they pulled up outside the hotel where Mike and Sam were staying. ‘Out you get. Mind you don’t break your hips playing Scrabble,’ he added, flashing Sam a mischievous grin he hoped Anna missed. Once they were standing on the pavement, Mike turned to the driver and cried, ‘To the crypt, my good man! Adventure awaits!’

As the lights of the taxi disappeared around the corner, Sam turned to Anna. ‘Do you think he’s got his confidence back?’ he asked.

‘I think he’ll do fine,’ chuckled Anna as a couple walked past, nudging each other.

‘Let’s get in,’ whispered Sam, feeling conspicuous all of a sudden. ‘Do you mind if we go up to my room? The hotel bar will be swamped with tourists.’

‘Okay, but behave yourself,’ said Anna with a wry smile. ‘I’ve heard all about you.’

They rode up silently, glad that the lift was empty. Anna was his lawyer, of course, so Sam could easily claim she was in his suite for a conference. A beautiful lawyer, all on her own? Pull the other one, sunshine, his brain mocked. He glanced at their reflection in the lift’s mirror – they did look good together, he decided as the doors hissed open. Outside the Royal Suite, he fumbled with the key card, finally opening the door and letting Anna inside.

Anna cooed for a few moments as she looked around the elegant space. While Sam mixed their drinks, she walked over to the window and looked out at the skyline, the castle just visible towering over a city peppered with light.

‘Mike’s great, isn’t he?’ she said, gazing through the glass as if she was looking for him.

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