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“Quick! Leg it!” Georgie shot off like an athlete. Liam tried his best to follow. Behind, hordes of screaming girls bore down on them. They shadowed Georgie and Liam with all the stealth of lions stalking their prey. It took the best part of a mile to shake them off. The two men darted into a side alley and leant back against a brick wall, panting. Liam’s chest filled with an excruciating pain as the cold night air filled his lungs. All they’d done was nip out for a McDonalds. How had it all come to this, he thought miserably?
It had been Georgie’s idea to enter the Pop Contest. They’d never expected to win - just thought it would get them a few more bookings. The group Adept was an instant sensation. They won easily in the first week and kept on winning week after week. By the end of the TV series they were household names. Every chat show wanted them. Every station played their record. Tabloids picked over every bit of gossip. Fame! What a fickle mistress!
The damp cold from the bricks started to seep through Liam’s sweat-stained shirt. He began to shiver. Thoughts turned to what he’d left behind. His girlfriend; his mates down the pub and his Mum’s Sunday roast. Not only was he breathless and cold – he was also homesick.
“Great, innit? Liam turned his head sideways to acknowledge the voice. Georgie’s eyes glistened with excitement – the lead vocalist was enjoying every minute of it. He was grinning from ear to ear. Adrenalin oozing from every pore. “Yeah” Liam replied dully. “Great!”
That night, the show went well. Liam and Georgie – out front – let rip with the vocals. All thoughts of home temporarily erased from Liam’s mind. This was the part he enjoyed. The normally reticent, shy introvert became a gyrating, grinning pop star. All that separated him from Georgie was his looks. There was no doubt about it, Georgie had charisma. His boyish cheeky charm won over female hearts – young and old. His large brown eyes had a “come-to-bed” look that few refused. Liam, on the other hand, had all the makings of a pasty, undernourished student. His long dank hair hung lifelessly around scrawny shoulders and his eyes were deep-set and shadowed from lack of sleep.
Georgie was used to groupies. But that night when he found Tamsin waiting for him in his dressing room, even he was a little taken aback. She had hoisted herself on to his dressing table and was sitting on her hands; casually swinging crossed legs back and forth. “How the hell did you get in?” Tamsin just grinned, exposing a set of buckteeth. She was a tall, leggy girl with light chestnut hair. Her piercing green eyes, probably her best feature. Not Georgie’s type at all but tonight he was on a high and up for it and she was there. After cursory introductions, they went outside, hailed a taxi and made their way back to the group’s hotel. As they passed Liam’s door, they could hear the plaintive strumming of a guitar.
This would be the third pop star that Tamsin had slept with. It was all part of her master plan. She would get pregnant - but not for any maternal reason. A child was her passport to luxury. There were plenty of egotistical pop stars ready to oblige her with a one-night stand. Once pregnant, a quick DNA test and a leaked story to the press, and she would have an income for life – or at least until the child was of age, by which time Tamsin would have come up with some other scam. She was determined to escape from the terraces of Bolton and the grim existence that was her mother’s. She, Tamsin Redwood, was meant for better things and she was prepared to do anything to achieve her goal.
With the light off, Georgie soon forgot the buckteeth and the gangly frame. He was caught off-guard by Tamsin’s enthusiasm. Most girls took a fair bit of warming up – but not her! He was enjoying the experience but then he was on a high. The show that night had gone particularly well and had sown further seeds of ambition in Georgie’s mind. Fame with the group was one thing but his sights were firmly set on success as a solo artist. Hints had been dropped to the press but an anxious manager, seeing his golden egg disappear, instantly quashed any rumours.
The following morning, Georgie was pleasantly surprised by Tamsin’s attitude. None of this, “Oh, please take me with you. I am so in love with you”. This was the part Georgie dreaded the most. Getting rid of them in the morning. Not Tamsin. She dressed quickly – almost professionally and turned to the sleepy torso under the bedcovers. “Here! Here’s my telephone number. Keep it. You’ll need it,” she added mysteriously. And with that she was gone. Georgie glanced quickly at the slip of paper before scrunching it up. He took aim at the wastepaper bin in the corner. As the latch on the door clicked shut, he turned over and went back to sleep.
Andy the drummer had been rushed to hospital. His appendix, was the official line but the group all knew he had been messing with drugs. Mick the Manager fronted every press conference and assured everyone that the show would go on. Their tickets were safe. Privately, he voiced his fears to Liam and Georgie. Georgie hardly able to contain himself, made reassuring noises. “Let Liam take the drums. I can manage the vocals. It’ll be different but it’s better than cancelling”. What was interpreted as sheer professionalism was in actual fact pure opportunism. Georgie, at last, had his chance.
That night, he made love to the microphone – and the audience – until they were eating out of his hand. His soft and high voice milked every note. Rock numbers, with sexual undertones, drove the audience wild. Romantic numbers were directed to individual females. He was a sensation. This didn’t go unnoticed by reporters who could be seen furiously scribbling in their notebooks. Tonight Georgie had lit the fuse – all he had to do was stand back and wait. There would be the minor problem of being released from his contract but first things first.
Marie was a stunner. Georgie had picked her out from the front row. She had the figure of a model and big breasts. Georgie liked big breasts. She also had an indifference towards him that turned him on. When he had invited her back to his room, her reaction had been “okay” with none of the usual breathless enthusiasm he had come to expect. He had to hand it to her though. When it came to the business – she was the best. They had sent out for food and had managed to make love before, during and after the meal. Georgie was shattered but Marie looked merely ruffled. She wrapped herself up in his shower robe and headed for the bathroom. Georgie was confused. He was also exhausted. He reached for his packet of fags.
“Get us a beer, Babe”, he called out, drawing heavily on his cigarette. He heard the gentle banging of the fridge door in the next room. Reaching for the remote, he flicked through the channels. Hastily skipping over a couple of steamy sex scenes, he settled for the News on Sky. He was about to take another long drag on his cigarette when a vaguely familiar face loomed onto the screen. He recognised those buckteeth. “Youngest every winner of a Rollover …” the announcer’s voice trailed away as Georgie squinted at the screen. “Tamsin?” Could that possibly be Tamsin? It must be. He recognised the teeth. “Eight million pounds, “ the announcer went on. “What would you do with that sort of money?” He addressed the question to the camera.
The hairs on the back of Georgie’s neck stood up. He leapt out of bed. “I’d fucking well buy myself out of my contract. That’s what I’d fucking do.” Georgie dropped his cigarette into the ashtray. When Marie came back into the room, she found a naked Georgie on all fours rifling furiously through the waste bin. “Lost something, Babes?” Marie might be a stunner but she was no Brain of Britain.
The abortion was quick and painful. Tamsin headed for the Caribbean to recuperate. On her return she found Georgie’s message on her ansaphone. Two days later she received two-dozen red roses from him. Six weeks later they were married. It was headline news. Showbiz Wedding of the Year. Now that Tamsin had had her teeth fixed and implants, she wasn’t half bad looking. Georgie bought himself out of his contract and they went on a solo tour of America. It was a sell-out. Tamsin appeared on almost as many shows as Georgie. Her famous win was the envy of ordinary Americans struggling to get by on the breadline.
They moved to LA. Tamsin fell in love with the first mansion they looked at. It nestled comfortably at the base of a mountain and had a swimming pool. How far could you come from Bolton, she purred to herself? They were told that geological studies found that it laid on something called a fault line but this was all too boringly technical for Tamsin and Georgie. Tamsin spent most of her days round the pool. She had now bought the figure she had always dreamt of and took every opportunity to show it off. Their “Parties round the Pool” became legendary amongst their neighbours.
Liam moved back to Derbyshire and to the girl he had left behind. She welcomed him with open arms and they set up house in a pretty little village just outside Buxton. Liam shunned the limelight, preferring to cultivate his talent as a songwriter. Domestic bliss soon produced his first number one – both record wise and baby wise. He could slip down his local every Sunday without being recognised – apart from the odd neighbour calling out “Morning!” The woman in the village shop swore that she had seen celebrities slipping in and out of Liam’s new recording studio at the back of his cottage but as no one had managed to catch them on camera, it was put down to wishful thinking on her part. This was the life Liam had always wanted. It was just as he liked it.
It was sudden and unexpected. As all earthquakes are. It hit the rich and famous hard to see their homes and prized status symbols disappear beneath piles of rubble. It was estimated that the damage would run into hundreds of millions of dollars. A State of Emergency was declared.
Liam called in to the village shop to pick up his paper. A free CD dropped out of the colour supplement. Liam turned it over and read the credits. Number five on the list was Back it up! by Adept. It was recorded only three years ago but how it seemed like a lifetime ago. Liam folded the paper and went to tuck it under his arm. Then he caught sight of the headlines. LA Hit by Earthquake! Stars flee their homes. Luxury mansions destroyed in worse quake for a century. On the front page was a picture of Georgie and Tamsin sitting on a pile of rubble. Tamsin was clutching what looked like the top of a bikini. There was a vacant look in Georgie’s eyes that worried the emergency services. He had been hit by flying rocks and had suffered brain damage. He was left with the intelligence of a six-year old child. Like it or not, Tamsin would have her baby after all.
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