Page 101 of Lyrebird

‘I appreciate you finally calling me back,’ she says unable to keep the anger from her tone.

He sighs. ‘Bo Peep. Help.’

She’s surprised by his tone. It’s rare for him.

‘It’s been so crazy around here the past few days. Really stressful. I’m exhausted, Bo,’ he says, and leaves a silence. ‘I thought I’d learned from all my mistakes last time round. I thought I knew how to help an act. I thought I could stop what happened to me from happening to them. I thought …’ He sighs. ‘I fucked up. I’m off my high horse now. Screw the lawyers. Screw it all. I need your help.’

‘My help?’

‘Lyrebird hasn’t left her bedroom for days. She hasn’t said a word to anyone, she hasn’t made a sound. We have no final if we don’t have her. We can’t pressure her to go on, there’s too much attention on us now. Everyone’s watching. Watching for the show to fuck up, for her to fuck up. I mean, when did it stop being about the talent? And I can’t say I blame her. I’ve been right where she is now.’

Bo is so surprised by this, she was expecting an argument.

‘Bo, we need your help. You know her better than us. What should we do?’

‘I gave you advice for the semi-final, I told you to go with a forest theme, I told you exactly what to do and you messed that up.’

‘I know, I know, I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘We’ve fucked up on this. I prided myself on protecting the talent, not on this happening. You know she reminds me of me, right now, where I was when everything went black. This is all bringing me back there …’ He goes quiet. ‘I mean, I’m not going to have a drink,’ he says, sounding like he’s trying to convince himself. ‘I’m not. But I had a cigarette. I hope that doesn’t spoil our chances,’ he adds a weak joke, his heart not in it.

‘Can we meet up?’ Bo asks, sitting up, feeling all the energy that drained from her surging back at full force. She’s worried about him, she’s excited about being included. Contact at last.

‘Please,’ he sighs. ‘We need all the help we can get. I need all the help I can get.’

‘I’ll do what I can,’ Bo says, standing up and grabbing things, throwing them into her bag. ‘But first, one little tip.’

‘Go on.’

‘Start by calling her Laura,’ she says gently.

‘Right. Got it,’ he says.

36

Laura awakes with a start, her heart drumming and the sound of chirping loud in her ears. If she had a nightmare she doesn’t remember it, but she feels the remaining panic in her heart and chest. Something scared her. She hears the other contestants downstairs talking and laughing, drinking after the latest drama, which has forced a contestant out of the show and caused another to join the house.

Country singer Kevin has been kicked out after StarrQuest discovered he once had a record deal that he is still signed to. It is against the rules for anybody to have a contract of any sort that would affect StarrGaze’s rights over the act. The happiest person in the house is Brendan. But he doesn’t know that when Kevin returned for the last time to pack his bags, Alice gave him a parting gift. In the bedroom next door to Laura’s, the headboard was banging in time with Kevin’s throaty groans of ‘Sweet Jesus!’ Then the two lovers discussed their magazine offers and plans to enter Celebrity Big Brother, before Kevin packed his cowboy hat and boots and left.

The twelve-year-old contortionist has taken his place. She’s outside now, practising for her pyro show, diving through loops of fire, while her mother and father look on, wearing tracksuits with her name and face on their backs.

Alice’s tears soon dried and now she is in the hall, arguing with Brendan about her focus, or lack thereof. Wide awake now, Laura sits up and listens. He tells her she needs to focus on her career, on him and her. Alice is fed up with him and her, she needs a life beyond the act, this show has given her that. It’s like a bullet through the heart for Brendan.

Throughout their argument, Laura hears the echo of chirping in her head. It hasn’t come from her, she’s sure of it. As far as she’s aware, she still hasn’t made a sound and she feels as though someone has drawn a curtain on her throat. She turns on the bedroom light and sits up, the room is wrapped in a warm orange glow.

Still, her chest pounds.

She breathes in and out slowly, trying to settle herself, confused by this feeling. For days now this room has been her haven. Through drawing the curtain on her voice, she has drawn a curtain on the world; for a while it helped her to feel safe, protected, at peace. Now she feels trapped, as though the walls are closing in on her. Where previously it seemed big and spacious, now it feels like there’s not enough air to breathe. Like she’s in a cage.

That thought sparks off the chirping again in her head and she realises where the sound is coming from. She throws off the covers and dresses quickly, peering outside. It’s two a.m., the photographers don’t stay all night, she’ll be able to leave without being seen. She packs some things in a backpack, including the per diem, the allowance the show has given them each day. Getting out of here will be a problem; the house is in a remote area in Enniskerry, and though there is a village minutes away, it’s not walkable, not at this hour. She would have to call a taxi and all the phones are downstairs. Alice and Brendan have moved away from where they were arguing. She opens her door and walks as quietly as she can down the hall, hoping to miss Alice, who seems to report her every move to the press.

She winces as the floor creaks underfoot. By the time she makes it downstairs, everybody seems to have gone to bed, getting ready for the final tomorrow night. She tiptoes into one of the lounges and is about to phone for a taxi when a figure appears at the door.

‘Alan,’ she says, getting a fright.

‘Laura!’ He sounds as surprised as she is. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Calling a taxi.’

‘I’ll drive you.’