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‘Crikey. Were they good friends before this happened?’
‘No, not at all. They barely knew each other. They finally let her out of the garage but they told her that if she reported them to the police, she’d be dead next time.’
‘That’s terrible. No wonder you lamped her!’
Skye nodded. ‘When I saw her a week later, laughing in the pub with her friends, I just saw red. Poor Rachel still isn’t over the ordeal. I doubt she ever will be.’
I shook my head in disbelief.
Skye looked at her watch. ‘Right. Back soon,’ and she vanished, picking up my keys from the hall table as she left.
‘Youmustbe desperate for ciggies, going out looking like that!’ I called after her with a grin, but the door had already slammed shut.
Taking advantage of the silence, I decided to call the builder for an update on the shower and toilet block for the glamping site. Then Saul called me. He was having a week away to install a special composting toilet outside his cabin in the woods, but he said he’d be back in a day or two to finish off the work in the flat for Sylvia. I checked he still had a key for if I was out when he came round, and I made him laugh by joking that I’d be happy to see him whenever he felt ready to leave the peace and tranquillity of the woods behind and face people again.
I’d no sooner finished talking to Saul than the phone rang again.
King Kong.
Determined to ignore him because I was still feeling confused about everything, I let it ring and got up to make myself a coffee I didn’t really want. Then I sat there in the cosy kitchen, wondering what to do about Kurt. Ignoring him didn’t last long. I couldn’t resist listening to the message he’d left. It was quietly apologetic. He very much wanted to explain about the conversation he’d had with Nash and how my name had come up, and he added that he’d never in a million years have given away where I was living if he’d known the circumstances.
I was about to give in and call him, when I heard the door at ground level being opened and Skye’s footsteps running up the stairs. A second later, she burst into the flat.
‘Look at this!’ she demanded from the hallway, marching into the kitchen a second later. She brandished a folded newspaper at me, eyes flashing with fury, and I saw she was holding a bunch of other newspapers under her arm. ‘I bloodyknewthey wouldn’t content themselves with “Failed Hollywood actress lamps woman in pub!” alongside the most unflattering picturethey could find of me. They justhadto drag up myallegedsketchy past as well!’
She pushed the paper in front of me and I stared at the photo that took up most of the top half of page five, along with the headline she’d just quoted.
She was right. It was a terrible photo. It made my sister, who was classically beautiful, look rough and hungover and at least twenty years older, and my heart went out to her. I took the paper and started to read the story, which sure enough, alluded to the incident in the pub and then went on to dredge up the devastating story from years ago that had ended Skye’s chances of a Hollywood career.
She’d been full of hope and excitement when, in her twenties, she’d landed a starring role in a big blockbuster movie that shot her to stardom and made her a dazzling, worldwide star. The fresh new face, whose name was on everyone’s lips...
. . . for the best part of a year.
At which point, her ageing male co-star – clearly jealous of being outshone by this dazzling young actress with the world at her feet – published his biography which included a complete hatchet job on Skye, implying that they’d had a steamy, on-set affair and that she suffered from a serious sex addiction and favoured one particular position in particular.
Skye took the actor to court for defamation of character and won her case, but her star was already on the wane. During this traumatic time, we all flew out to be with her, sitting in court every day to support her. It was soul-destroying seeing how it was affecting her. In the end, despite emerging victorious after the gruelling battle with her former co-star, all the acting opportunities dried up and Skye was forced to return to the UK with her dreams of making it big in Hollywood completely shattered.
How she found the strength to carry on acting after such a crushing blow, I’ll never know. But she did. With talent on her side and a truckload of dogged determination, she kept on showing up for auditions and eventually started making a name for herself again in the UK, enjoying a steady career as a stage actress, as well as doing lucrative voice-over work and appearing in the occasional advert on TV.
I was so proud of my sister for what she’d achieved in the face of such adversity.
When she returned to the UK, she kept silent about what really happened on-set. She wouldn’t even talk to us about what she’d gone through. She said she just wanted to put the whole nightmare behind her...
*****
Over the next few days, Skye seemed to sink into a defeated slump.
I told her not to read the stories, but she was like a dog with a bone and couldn’t leave them alone. So eventually, I threw all the papers in the recycling and she didn’t object.
But then a particularly salacious story appeared in a down-market magazine, reporting that Skye’s accuser had dropped all charges but that Skye had vanished from sight and hadn’t been seen in public for days. But it wasn’t the implication that she must be guilty of the offence if she’d run away that upset Skye.
It was the headline.
‘Look!’ she demanded, returning from a trip to the local shops and throwing the magazine on the table in front of me.
I read the headline.
‘Oh, my God!’ I stared at the page. ‘Oh, Skye, that’s awful.’
