Miss Wrong and Mr Right(10)

‘Of course,’ I promised. ‘And thanks for the dress.’

I felt a twang of envy as I made my way back to the train station. Not that I wanted nits or to watch Dr Who… I just envied Sharon’s life, with her full house.





Ryan Harrison





The sky was heavy with cloud as I made my way up from Charing Cross Station and back to Soho. The rush hour was reaching its peak. I expertly weaved my way through the crowds, the plastic-wrapped dress sticking to my skin in the thick afternoon heat.

When I reached the theatre I was shocked to see a huge crowd had formed. The pavement and part of the road directly outside the main entrance had now been blocked off with a long line of crash barriers. The front row had been nabbed by members of the press and paparazzi, who were leaning languidly against the barriers, seemingly used to the routine of waiting for a famous person to materialise. In contrast, the Ryan Harrison fans behind them were whipping themselves into a frenzy, with an excited babble of chatter, shrieks and laughter.

There were teenage girls and guys, and some women a similar age to me and Sharon. Phone camera flashes went off as they took group selfies, and there were some elaborate homemade signs being held up with things like: ‘WE LOVE YOU RYAN!’, ‘I LOVE YOU RYAN!’, ‘RYAN! I WANT YOUR BABIES!’ And a group of older ladies were all wearing pink t-shirts reading, ‘WE’RE MORMONS, RYAN. MARRY US ALL!’

Six uniformed police officers were stationed at intervals along the crash barriers, watching over the growing crowd. Inside the enclosed area on the pavement, Nicky was supervising Xander and a couple of the guys who worked in the box office as they straightened and vacuumed a huge roll of red carpet leading up to the main entrance.

I reached the barrier and tapped one of the police officers on the shoulder. He wouldn’t believe who I was and I had to shout for Nicky to come over and vouch for me. The police officer wordlessly opened the barrier and I slid through.

‘Sorry Nat, I meant to give you a pass before you left,’ she said handing me a laminated square with my name and staff photo. ‘Ryan Harrison’s people have been in contact. He’s running half an hour late.’

I checked my watch. It was five thirty-five. There was a rumble of thunder, and the crowd screamed. Xander came over with a clipboard for Nicky.

‘This is the final guest list,’ he said. ‘Everyone who comes in will be verified three times. Once out front, once in the foyer when they get their goody bag, and then once more when they enter the bar.’

The thunder rumbled again, and the sky seemed to grow heavier.

‘Have we got umbrellas?’ I asked.

‘Yes, we’ve got a load upstairs, I’ll move them down to the foyer,’ said Xander and went back inside.

‘Can I see the dress?’ asked Nicky. I unhooked it from my shoulder and she gave me an approving smile.

‘It’s perfect,’ she said. ‘This is crazy, huh?’

‘I know. The crash barriers, the press, the fans… All at our theatre!’

Nicky grinned and squeezed my hand. ‘It’s what we’ve been working towards Nat, for so long… Look, we’ve even got press here from America.’ She pointed to a blonde lady in an immaculate trouser suit as she did a piece to camera with her microphone.

We went back inside and I went up to one of the spare dressing rooms to get ready. The green dress from Sharon was beautiful, simple and elegant with a bit of cleavage on show for good measure. I gave my hair a touch up with the straighteners, and vamped up my make-up a little. It was one of those occasions when everything went right. My eyes were dramatic and smoky; my hair was sleek and straight with just enough volume. Why could I never pull this off on a date? The last couple of times I had been out with Benjamin, I’d been bloated and had an attack of the frizz.

I pulled out my mobile and called Benjamin, but after a couple of rings his phone went to voicemail. I stared at the screen. He’d cancelled my call… Maybe he was just about to meditate, I thought. A knock roused me out of my thoughts and Nicky entered.

‘Nat. Ryan Harrison’s car will be here in ten minutes.’

‘Okay. I’ll be down in a sec,’ I said. I suddenly felt very nervous.





When Nicky and I went back out of the theatre, the atmosphere on the street was crazed. The air was hot and thick, and black clouds hung low above the rooftops. Streetlights were flickering on, even though it wouldn’t get dark for a few more hours. The crowds had now swollen to fill Raven Street, and we were met by a policewoman who explained they’d made the decision to close it in both directions, and divert traffic. ‘The Metropolitan Police have taken control of the crowd management and all public areas, please do not interfere,’ she added sternly. We nodded obediently. The radio on her lapel hissed and crackled and a tinny voice said, ‘incoming.’