It Felt Like A Kiss

Chapter Thirty-one




The next morning, as she was driven to the On The Sofa studios on the South Bank, the size of the male co-host’s penis was the very last thing on Ellie’s mind.

Despite the air conditioning in the car, Ellie could feel sweat dotting her forehead and her upper lip. She had three white dresses in the garment bag draped over her lap. Tess had said to bring options, and she was worried that even with repeated applications of a so-called invisible antiperspirant she’d have unsightly yellow marks under her arms. She’d have to remember to keep her arms at her sides, but in a natural way. Not a stiff, shop mannequin way.

She and Tess had also come up with a list of talking points: Ellie had no problem with Billy Kay or any member of his family and was very sorry that they’d had their lives disrupted. She was just a hard-working young woman who wanted to get on with her life. And she had a really funny but completely untrue anecdote about dressing up as a four-pack of Kleenex Velvet loo roll one Halloween, because Tess said it was essential to make the audience laugh at least once. Probably, Ellie’d have had more luck in memorising her talking points if she was giving them her full attention instead of wondering if she should call Ari. Not to apologise, not yet, but she wanted to hear Ari tell her that she could do this, that she’d rock it out and that she had her blessing.

It had been twenty-four hours since they’d last spoken. They’d hardly ever gone so long without even a phone call before. Ellie was pretty sure it had happened only once when she’d had laryngitis. But she was still furious with Ari, years and years worth of fury, and she couldn’t handle another row before her TV debut.

She wiped her sweaty forehead with her equally sweaty hand. It wasn’t just nerves that was making her glow and giving her an insistent, nagging throb between her eyebrows. The endless weeks of sticky heat had given way to a humid, airless day. Thunderstorms were predicted, even though there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. They’d predicted thunderstorms before, which hadn’t amounted to anything more than a light breeze, but this morning the city was simmering like it was about to come to the boil.

‘Would you mind turning up the air con?’ Ellie asked the driver, struggling to make herself heard over Talk Radio, then she settled back on her seat. Could she make it to the studio without throwing up?

It was a relief when her phone rang, but it wasn’t Ari. It was David.


She was tempted not to answer, but then Ellie thought of how it would feel to hear his voice. So polite, so proper even when he was talking utter filth. There was absolutely nothing he could say that she wanted to hear, other than, ‘I’m sorry for all the heinous things I put you through. I was wrong, and I’ve found a way for us to be together.’ This was never going to happen so she answered with a snippy, ‘What do you want?’ to let him know that she might be taking his call, but she wasn’t taking any nonsense.

‘Ellie?’ There was the beat her heart skipped. ‘Don’t do it.’

‘Don’t do what?’ she asked, genuinely confused. Don’t live your life without me in it. Don’t forget to floss before bed. There were so many possible don’ts.

‘Do not do the interview that you’re on your way to do.’ It sounded like he was whispering.

‘What makes you think I’m on my way to an interview and what makes you think it’s any of your business?’ she snapped.

‘Please don’t do it. You have to trust me on this.’

‘Trust you as my father’s legal representative or trust you as the man who’s happy to shag me as long as nobody knows about it?’ Ellie had to whisper herself because even with Talk Radio on, she didn’t want the driver to hear, then maybe mention it to someone from On The Sofa in the staff canteen.

‘That’s not fair. How about you trust me because—’

‘Because what?’ she demanded. ‘Because …?’

‘I have to go,’ David said abruptly, then he was gone and the car was pulling in outside the TV studio.

Ellie was so spooked that it took three attempts to undo her seatbelt and the driver had to get out and open the door for her. She hadn’t even had time to take more than two steps on wobbly legs before a young man with extravagantly coiffed hair, dressed in a very tight, very blue suit hurried out to meet her.

‘Velvet?’ He didn’t even wait for an affirmative reply but gathered her up in an exuberant hug. ‘I’m Zach. I’m one of the researchers from On The Sofa. I’ll be looking after you. We’re so psyched that you’re here.’

So, this was one of Tess’s arch nemeses. Ellie could tell why. She also wondered what the opposite of psyched was as they swept past Reception and down a long corridor, the walls painted a zingy lime green and dotted with photos of the great and good and also the not so great and not so good.

‘Do you mind if we don’t get the lift? I’m so claustrophobic,’ Zach said, ushering Ellie through another set of doors to a stairwell. ‘It’s only a couple of flights up.’

They reached the third floor and apparently it was still ‘only a couple more flights’, when Ellie panted, ‘I thought Tess would be here.’

‘Oh, she’s around,’ Zach said vaguely. ‘Anything you need, just ask me. We all want you to love your On The Sofa experience. We’ll get your make-up done, give you a little pampering session, then we’ll try on some clothes. You’re a size six, right?’

‘I’m a size eight,’ Ellie gasped in panic. ‘Sometimes I’m a ten. Tess told me to bring my own outfits.’

‘Oh, no need to worry about that.’ They were on the fifth floor. Zach opened another door and eyed Ellie’s garment bag. ‘Why don’t I look after that for you?’

Ellie tightened her grip. ‘That’s OK,’ she said sweetly, though a distant alarm bell was going off in her head. ‘I really would like to see Tess, please.’

‘I’ll find her for you,’ Zach said as he galloped down another corridor, Ellie scurrying to keep up with him. ‘Look! It’s your very own dressing room!’ A door was thrown open and Ellie was hustled inside. ‘Even Pippa Middleton didn’t get her own dressing room. She had to share with a girl from EastEnders.’

Ellie knew when someone was trying to sell her a bridge, but she smiled tightly at Zach, who muttered something about having to see a man about a dog (she hoped she wasn’t the dog in that scenario) and left her alone.

There was a counter lined with mirrors adorned with lightbulbs, which made Ellie feel a bit showbusiness, but also even more panicky as she parked her vanity case and studied her face for open pores, blackheads and any stray eyebrow hairs that needed eradicating before she was HD ready.

There were also a few limp-looking, garishly hued frocks hanging from a clothes rail. Ellie was having nothing to do with them. She unzipped her garment bag and carefully hung up the three white dresses she’d brought with her. She didn’t want to look too virginal, that would really be pushing it, but they’d look good against her tan and wearing a crisp, white dress was the quickest way she knew to becoming her own heroine and finding some semblance of calm.

Suddenly Zach reappeared with two women. One of them was lugging a huge make-up case with her and the other had a few more garish dresses over one arm and a carrier bag full of shoes that looked like they’d come from somewhere that advertised itself as ‘a one-stop shop for all your stripper needs’.

‘So, this is the lovely Velvet, and this is Elaine and Mercedes who are going to make you look even more beautiful,’ Zach exclaimed.

Elaine was make-up, Mercedes was wardrobe and was already pulling out a skimpy red dress that was slashed down to there and hocked up to here. ‘This would look great with your colouring and your long legs,’ she said, holding it out to Ellie reverentially like it was this season’s couture.

‘No, thank you,’ Ellie said politely. ‘I never do legs and cleavage.’ She also didn’t do clothes so thin and shiny that they’d go up in flames if they came within ten metres of a lit match.

‘What about this one, then?’

Another dress was held up for Ellie’s inspection. It was neon pink and would have been a great look if she were a podium dancer in an Essex nightclub.

‘Why don’t you slip one on so we can see what it looks like?’ Zach suggested. ‘I know they might seem a little—’

‘Cheap?’ Ellie asked. It wasn’t often she could arch an eyebrow, only when she didn’t think about it too hard, but her left eyebrow was sweeping up now.

‘Bright,’ Zach said. ‘They’ll really pop under the studio lights.’

‘I think I’ll end up popping out of them, and before the watershed too,’ Ellie said with a fixed smile to show that she wasn’t being a bitch. ‘I’ll be more comfortable in my own clothes.’ She waved a hand towards Mercedes and her clothes rail. ‘I’ve also got my own shoes. I have narrow feet and weak ankles. I’m very difficult to fit.’

Ellie had a whole cacophony of alarm bells ringing in her head now. David’s phone call was taking on a new significance, She was meant to be here to be portrayed in a flattering light, not dressed up in tacky clubwear.

‘Why don’t we make a decision about the clothes later? Let’s sort out make-up,’ Zach said with the same ingratiating jolliness.

Sorting out make-up involved Ellie shying away as Elaine came at her with thick foundation five shades darker than her skin tone, or false eyelashes or vampy red lipstick, or said cajolingly, ‘What about a nice smoky eye?’

‘I don’t think that’s appropriate make-up for daytime TV,’ Ellie kept saying, though Zach and Elaine both insisted that anything lighter would fade out under the studio lights. ‘I want to see Tess.’


Zach was still mouthing platitudes when Tess finally responded to Ellie’s increasingly frantic texts.

OMG!!! So, so, so, so sorry. New producer wants ratings up. Lara & Rose Kay been booked too. Totes stitch up. I’m locked in an office. Think U should walk.

Ellie’s first instinct was to walk. It was her second, third, fourth and fifth instinct too, but then she thought about her half-sisters in the very same building, just a few metres away, prepping for their turn on On The Sofa to sing their same tired song: We’re sad. We’re devastated. She’s a no-good little tramp. Her mother’s even worse. We only want to protect our precious, precious baby brother. And have we mentioned that we’re guest presenting some lame show on ITV4?

Ellie was here so she could finally tell her side of the story. But it wasn’t a story. It was the truth. Lara and Rose might have Georgie Leigh to brief them and David Gold to be utterly scheming on their behalf, but Ellie wasn’t entirely inexperienced. She was friendly and personable, and if she could flog thousands of pounds worth of art to arrogant Russian oligarchs or uppity R ’n’ B artists or vicious trophy wives and have them add her to their Christmas card lists then she could sit down on a sofa for twenty minutes and make the studio audience and the wider public like her too. How hard could it be?

Ellie snatched up the jar of Ponds cold cream that Elaine had dumped on the counter. ‘OK,’ she said. ‘I am really trying not to be a bitch but if I do this I am going to do it wearing my own clothes and a flattering daytime makeup look. If anything goes on my face that I don’t like, then I’m bringing out the big guns.’ Ellie waved the Ponds cream threateningly. ‘If you persist in trying to force me to do anything that I’m not comfortable with, then I’m going home.’

Zach actually wrung his hands. ‘But, Velvet—’

‘Look, I chose On The Sofa for my one and only interview because I thought you’d show me a little respect and some understanding. Please don’t let me down,’ Ellie finished with a brave smile, which drooped slightly at the corners because was this what David meant when he’d said that she used a smile to get her own way?

If she did, then it worked, because Zach backed off immediately. ‘We just want you to be happy, Velvet.’ He smiled brightly and rubbed his hands together. ‘Why don’t I get you coffee and a muffin?’

It wasn’t going to be the world’s most auspicious TV debut, Ellie thought as she picked up the remote control to switch on the TV that was mounted to the wall.

‘Oh, let’s see if Homes Under The Hammer is on,’ Mercedes exclaimed, and snatched the remote away so Ellie couldn’t see how the interview was being trailed. Would Lara and Rose go on before her? Or would she get first crack at warming the audience up? These were questions that needed answering, and even if she couldn’t have face time with Tess, at least they could text.

Have decided 2 stay. Wearing white Whistles dress & will try to b myself. Any more tips?

Ellie got changed into the white broderie anglaise shirtwaister with the full skirt, which she’d been wearing at Glastonbury the first time she’d met David Gold. She wasn’t sure if that made it a lucky dress or an unlucky dress, but she could still feel the phantom touch of his hands on her arms as he’d steadied her, see the quirk of his lips as he’d smiled, and her face flushed in a way that had Elaine coming at her with a powder puff as her phone pinged.

OMG Ell! Walk! Go! This is a car crash and U R going 2 end up DEAD!!!!!

The alarm bells upgraded to a full sixteen-siren roar, with flashing lights and an arse-clenching feeling like the end of the world was well and truly nigh.

Ellie eyed her garment bag, then resigned herself to leaving her other two frocks behind. Same with her vanity case, even though it contained about a month’s salary worth of product. ‘I need some fresh air,’ Ellie said, forcing the words past her constricted vocal chords. ‘I’m going to pop out for five minutes.’

Elaine and Mercedes looked at each other, then at Ellie, who tried to assume an expression that was appropriately nervous rather than utterly hysterical. ‘I think the room next door has a window we could crack open,’ Mercedes said, because even the make-up and costume department were ready to fling her to the lions. Or were desperate to keep their jobs. Whatever.

‘Look, I’m not—’

‘Velvet! There you are!’ Zach was back without the promised coffee or muffin. ‘Shall we start walking?’

It was time to come clean. ‘I might as well tell you that I’m bailing on you,’ she explained as they set off at a fast trot. ‘None of this feels right, you know?’

‘You’re nervous. That’s completely natural,’ Zach assured her, as they got into a lift, even though he’d pleaded claustrophobia. Obviously, he’d wanted to avoid Ellie coming face to face with Lara and Rose without a camera to record the meeting for posterity, she realised. ‘Jeff and Angie will put you at ease.’

The lift doors opened and, hand on her elbow, Zach guided her through two sets of double doors, then a long, long corridor. ‘The thing is, Zach … well, I’m not convinced I’ll be portrayed in a positive light.’

Zach made an ouchy face as if Ellie had mortally wounded him. ‘We’re all thrilled that you’re here,’ he said, dodging the issue. ‘And it must feel really good to know that you can get your point across after all those terrible things Lara and Rose Kay have said about you in the papers.’

‘Yes, but what—’

‘I bet it made you really angry. Furious.’ Ellie was just about to turn a corner, but Zach ground to a halt so he could take her shoulders and look deeply into her eyes. She was starting to hate him in a very special way that she’d hardly ever hated anyone before. ‘I would have been furious. And your poor grandparents. I saw them in the paper and they looked really sweet and kind …’

‘Yeah, well they are,’ Ellie agreed, not sure why Zach felt the need to bring this up right now.

‘But they also look very, very old. You must have been so frightened that all the revelations and all the mean things people like Lara and Rose were saying would give them heart attacks and then, well, they might die.’

Ellie was appalled. ‘Oh my God! Why would you even say something like that?’

But she knew why he was saying it because Tess had told her that one of the least savoury elements of her job was to sometimes babysit guests and get them suitably riled up/tearful/hyped (delete where applicable) before they went on.

Which was why Zach was saying, ‘Just the thought of your grandparents not being there for you must be heartbreaking. Do you feel like you might cry?’ he asked hopefully.

‘This interview is not happening.’ Ellie turned on her heel in order to leave so it couldn’t happen, when a woman dressed all in black with a clip-on mike came barrelling round the corner.

‘There you are,’ she said to Ellie with a bright smile as she looked her up and down. ‘Not at all what we were expecting.’

‘Talking of things that weren’t expected—’ Ellie began, but the woman had one of her arms and Zach had the other and he was still talking about her grandparents’ untimely demise as she was marched around the corner so fast that her feet didn’t make proper contact with the floor. They came to yet another set of double doors and these ones had a red light above them that said ‘On Air’. Ellie found herself being pushed through them and onto the set of On The Sofa.






Camden, London, 1987

Billy was a stone-cold bastard. Ari had always known that, always known that her love wasn’t enough to change him, but she’d still wanted him. Even now, she ached from the want of him.

Besides, she could never be the kind of mother that Velvet should have, which was why Carol was taking her at the end of the week. Or the end of the month. Then it was halfway through the next month and Ari hid behind the curtains when Carol banged on the door and the playwright’s girlfriend pretended that Ari wasn’t there.

Ari couldn’t go out much in case Carol was lurking in next door’s bushes but it was April, the promise of sun in the air and it wasn’t good for Velvet to be cooped up, so Ari fashioned a baby sling out of a leopard-print cardie and stepped outside.

Velvet’s big eyes were wide with wonder at the world and it was all Ari could do to watch where she was going because Velvet was endlessly fascinating. Ari spent hours marvelling at all the miraculous parts, from tiny toenails to the startling mop of curls, which made up her perfect baby.

It was Camden and it was Ari back in her big hair and big heels. She was stopped every five paces by an old friend, an acquaintance, someone she used to be in a band with. They all cooed at Velvet and Velvet cooed back at them. Then they all smiled and laughed and told Ari how lucky she was.

When they bumped into Chester, Velvet managed to get one fat arm out of her swaddling and waved at him. It was humbling to watch the look of slavish adoration that lit up his face as he ever so gently stroked Velvet’s cheek. ‘She’s beautiful, Ari,’ he said in a reverent whisper. ‘She’s a little princess, isn’t she?’

They went to George & Nicky’s for a fry-up, and when Ari took Velvet out of her sling, Chester scooped up the baby and kissed her as she gurgled with delight.

‘Don’t get too attached, Chester,’ Ari said softly. ‘My sister’s taking her. I’m not cut out to be a single mother.’

Chester covered Velvet’s tiny ears before he said, ‘Bullshit, Ari. You’re cut out to be whatever it is that you’ve set your heart on.’

Chester insisted on taking them to Gateway to buy groceries and nappies. He even wanted to go to Argos to buy a pram but Velvet was getting fretful, so instead he gave them a lift back to Primrose Hill.

Velvet was incensed when Chester drove off. She arched her back, stiffened her limbs and threw up all over Ari. The playwright had been making vague threats about rent but when Ari bumped into him in the hall he took one panicky look at the vomit-laden pair and gestured upstairs. ‘You’ve just this second had a visitor.’

Billy! Ari knew that he’d come back because, despite everything, he loved her and if he loved her, then eventually he’d learn to love Velvet. But standing in their room, a discomfited look on her face, was Georgina Pratt.

‘Oh, hello,’ she said, when she saw Ari. She gave Velvet, who was still screaming, a horrified glance. ‘Yuk! Has it been sick?’

Velvet spat up another flurry of puke by way of reply and Ari managed to catch it in her hand. Motherhood had given her an entirely new skillset.

‘What are you doing here, Georgina?’ she asked as the girl followed her into the bathroom. Ari filled the washbasin with lukewarm water and efficiently stripped Velvet, who protested every inch of the way. ‘As for you, madam, stop bitching.’

‘I’m sorry about what happened before Christmas, throwing the drink at you. And I wanted to see the baby.’ Georgina peered over Ari’s shoulder as she plonked Velvet in the basin and washed her down. ‘Can I hold her? I’ve never held a baby before.’

Icy fingers scrabbled their way down Ari’s spine but she let Georgina take her, showed her how to support Velvet’s head. Velvet loved nothing more than someone new smiling and talking nonsense at her, so she quietened down and looked at Georgina expectantly.

‘I could keep an eye on her if you wanted a shower,’ Georgina offered.

There was something about Georgina that had always felt off to Ari. Like, underneath the doughy, dumpy, Billy-worshipping exterior there were darker forces at work, but she was covered in sick. There was even sick in her hair and under her fingernails.

‘Would you? Take her into the bedroom and sing to her. She loves that. I’ll be five minutes.’

Four minutes later, when Ari turned off the shower she heard Velvet’s angry bellows, like she was being tortured. Naked and dripping wet, she rushed from bathroom to bedroom to find Velvet dumped on the bed, from where she could easily have rolled off and crushed her skull.

‘Georgina!’ she screamed, as she scooped up Velvet, spooking her and making her cry even harder. ‘Shhh. Shhh. I’m not mad at you. I could never be mad at you.’

Ari sat down on the bed and did all the things that Velvet loved. Rubbed her face against her daughter’s fat belly, blew her kisses, raspberries, even played Little Piggy on her starfish hands, until Velvet nestled her head in the crook of her neck.

Ari patted soothing circles on the baby’s back and thought about maybe taking a nap too, then she noticed that a whirlwind had swept through the room.

A whirlwind called Georgina Pratt, who had gathered up every single one of Billy Kay’s possessions and spirited them off. Every last guitar pick and pair of socks, and the two tartan laundry bags that contained the demo tapes and notebooks that charted the beginning and the during and the painful end of Ari and Billy.