A/N: Alas, all fictional characters are owned by Ms Meyer. The Beeb owns Strictly Come Dancing. I own nothing…

Confused by British speak? Check out the glossary at the bottom. Having said that, I've been kind to my non-British readers this chapter and there are only three things on it…


BPOV

I felt strange sitting on the tube, for the first time, I felt like I fit in. I was wearing a grey jersey dress, a fob watch necklace and my high heels, all of which bought, in Alice's presence. Previously, in my comfortable tweed, I had felt like an outsider, but now I looked just as trendy as everyone else. But more importantly than that, I felt sexy. I'm not sure what made me feel sexier, the dress or the lingerie that Alice had convinced me to buy earlier. I almost wore my comfortable cotton knickers and bras, but on a whim I decided to put them on. The lacy push up and knickers combined with the stockings made me feel more empowered, confident and attractive. Perhaps Alice knew what she was talking about after all.

I got off the tube at Shoreditch and quickly found my way to the pub. It hadn't taken me as long as I had expected and I was early. So I was surprised to see a tall, handsome, British-Asian man standing at the bar. Normally I would feel shy around someone whom I hadn't really met before, but today I walked up to him confidently.

"Hi, Jacob isn't it? Or should I be calling you Bigfoot?" I joked.

"I tend to prefer Jake, although I have a horrible feeling that Bigfoot is going to catch on," he said with a wry smile. "You're Isabella, right?"

"Bella actually. Nice to meet you properly." I extended my hand and he shook it.

"Can I get you a drink?" he asked.

"Pint of Black Sheep, please."

"Wow. I was expecting you to order vodka and soda or something boring like most beautiful women. Anyone who chooses real ale, and a Yorkshire one at that, is a woman I want to get to know. How have I not met you yet?" He looked at me with an amazed expression on his face and moved infinitesimally closer to me.

"You have always been surrounded by a bevy of women," I pointed out.

"Yeah, I really hope they're not coming tonight. They are very dull and very insistent," he laughed.

We got our drinks and walked over to a table.

"Aww, it's a hard life being a handsome man, isn't it?" I teased.

"It is when you're surrounded by leeches. I had enough of that on the racing circuit. I was hoping to get away from it here."

"You thought that Strictly Come Dancing would be a good way of avoiding gold diggers?" I asked.

"Well, that's not my only reason for being on Strictly."

"So why are you on it?" I pressed.

"I wanted to try something new."

"Well, dancing is certainly not Formula One," I bantered.

"Exactly. I was also hoping to meet some new people."

"New people or new women? If it's the latter you're doing fairly well."

"New women. But I can't meet the right kind because the wrong kind are constantly surrounding me," he complained.

"So what is the right kind of woman then?"

"Well, that depends on who you ask. If you ask my mother they would be a Pakistani Muslim who makes excellent roti. But I want someone who is down to earth like me, someone interested in me, not my fame or money."

"Did you just call yourself down to earth?" I asked, incredulously.

"What?" He appeared to be affronted by my question.

"You're a racing driver. Didn't you date a supermodel? That doesn't seem like down to earth behaviour to me," I pointed out.

"Dating Lucy was a youthful mistake. I got caught up in the excitement of being a celebrity. But I'm rapidly nearing thirty and need to get my priorities straight. And at heart, I'm down to earth." He was looking at me directly in the eyes. Was he flirting?

"Really?" I scoffed.

"Really. I'm a Yorkshire lad, born and bred. I grew up on a farm and used to help my dad milk his cows before I went to school. I want to meet someone whom I can take home to my parents. Someone who'll politely eat Mum's attempts at Yorkshire-Pakistani fusion food," he said sincerely.

"I'm sorry, you need to clarify that. 'Yorkshire-Pakistani fusion food'?"

"My mum moved to Yorkshire from Pakistan as a young girl and met and fell in love with my dad, an old-fashioned Yorkshire dairy farmer. She tries to reconcile their different cultures, and families, through her cooking. She combines Yorkshire puddings and chicken baltis, and makes toad in the hole using naan bread instead of batter. The polite thing to call it is 'interesting'," Jacob explained.

"Anyway, to return to my original point, I want someone who has their feet firmly planted on the ground — someone like you." Jake was leaning towards me and speaking softer. I felt terrified; no one had asked me out for a long time and I had no idea how to respond. Did I want to go on a date with him? I had no clue. "Would you like to—"

Thankfully my phone rang and interrupted Jake. I scrambled through my bag to find it.

"I think I'll take this outside," I told Jake and walked to the cold beer garden.

"Edward! How are you? How did the meeting go?" I asked overenthusiastically. If my response to Edward's call was anything to go by, I was pretty sure that I didn't want to go to go on a date with Jake. There was only one man I wanted to spend my time with, and that was never going to happen.

"The meeting went really well, thanks. They loved it. It was a huge boost to my confidence, I can tell you."

"I'm so pleased for you." I truly meant that.

"However, they're forcing me to sing it. The producers were there and decided that having one of the dancers sing would pull in viewers, so I've got to do it." He didn't seem that nervous at the prospect.

"Do you think you can manage it?" I asked, concerned.

"If you managed to dance on TV after only a week of practising I can bloody well sing on TV. I've been singing for years, after all."

"Well, I'll be there to try and keep you calm like you did for me."

"If you can control your own nerves."

"And that's a big if!" I laughed.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go for a drink tonight to celebrate?" Edward asked.

"I would love to but I'm having a drink with some of the 'celebrities' from Strictly." I would far rather spend time with Edward than get hit on by Jake.

"Who is there at the moment?" Edward asked.

"Just Jake and I, we both got here early."

"Just the two of you?" he sounded annoyed.

"Yes, and?" I prodded. Was he jealous?

"And nothing. May I come along?"

"I'd like you to be here, but I think Seth, who organised it, just wanted it to be the novices. He wants to be able to moan about how difficult it all is without feeling patronised. It's a bit like a support group."

"Foot-steppers anonymous?" Edward joked.

"Something like that."

"How did your trip with Alice go?" he asked.

"It was certainly educational. You were right, Paul is gay. He's a regular at Scouting," I informed Edward, matter-of-factly.

"I'm sorry, what?" Edward spluttered.

"Yeah, he came out and moved to Brighton right after Uni. My mum has known about his sexual preferences for years and swears she told me, but I think I'd have remembered that."

"Well, at least you know now."

"That's how I'm trying to view it. It took a while for it to sink in, but I'm feeling better now. Alice also took me shopping and the new clothes are making me feel more confident and sexy," I said optimistically.

"I'm delighted to hear it." He really did sound happy.

"I've left Jake alone for way too long. I'm really pleased your meeting went well," I said.

"Well, I guess I'll see you in the studio tomorrow."

"See you then."

"By the way, I missed you today," Edward said in a quieter tone.

"I missed you too," I replied.

"See you."

"Bye."

Edward missed me? Wow. And I'd missed him too. So much.

I went back into the pub to see our table packed. In my absence, Jessica had sat down next to Jake and was fawning all over him. When he saw me, he flashed me an apologetic smile. I just shrugged and sat next to Seth.

"How is the rumba going? Is pretending to fancy Victoria easier than pretending to love her?" I asked Seth.

"God no, have you seen how much make-up she wears? And those tits, they have to be fake. Not my kind of woman at all," he answered.

"There is nothing wrong with wearing make-up and having a boob job," Jessica defended. She also clearly wore lots of make-up, and I was prepared to bet that her boobs weren't real.

"We're not saying there is anything wrong with it, just that we prefer our women au naturel," Jake responded.

"What, like Bella?" laughed Jessica. Bitch.

"Are you saying that I'm not attractive?" I asked, wanting to slap her.

"Let me put it this way, I think Edward would find it easier to rumba with me," Jessica argued.

Seth saw the, metaphorical smoke coming from my ears and tried to defuse the situation. "There are many different opinions on what is attractive. Bella's beauty may be subtler than yours, but she's still beautiful. As are you."

"It's my round I think, what does everyone want?" I asked in a desperate attempt to remove myself from the situation.

The guys ordered beers, but Jessica wanted vodka and soda. I couldn't help but catch Jake's eye, and we both stifled a laugh.

On my way over to the bar, I ran into Leah.

"Practice over ran. I'm sorry I'm late," she said as she saw me. Judging by her messed up hair and smudged lipstick, I don't think she was practising her routine.

"Well, you're just in time for my round. What do you want?"

"White wine, please."

She stayed with me whilst I ordered.

"And a vodka with your most calorific lemonade please," I asked the barmaid before turning to Leah. "If Jessica asks, they ran out of soda," I told her.

"What did she do?" Leah asked.

"She pretty much told me I was unattractive."

"Bitch. Is this the best you can come up with?" she demanded.

"I couldn't very well spike her drink, now could I? It was either this or get her a white Russian. And this is vaguely like what she ordered."

"Spit in it," she suggested.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Spit in it," Leah insisted.

"That is disgusting."

"Either you do it or I will."

"I can't, it's childish," I responded.

"Fine." Leah spat into Jessica's drink and swirled it round with the straw to try and hide it.

I handed out the drinks and whilst Jessica was highly dubious about the pub having no soda she was oblivious to the added ingredient.

Soon afterwards, James, Mike, Kate and Peter turned up as well. James and Mike both spent their time shamelessly flirting with all of us women with varying degrees of success. Frankly, it was a real nuisance having to swat them off all them the time whilst hoping that Jake would not attempt to ask me out again.

Despite the persistent males, a great night was had by all. It was really good to talk to people in the same position as I was. Edward was sympathetic and patient but having a collective moan felt really good.

"Do any of your partners expect you to get a move exactly right the first time?" Seth whined.

"No," replied Leah, "That is impossible for a beginner. Does Victoria have ridiculously high expectations?"

"Yeah, and she gets so pissed off when I don't get it immediately. But I'd like to see her run a marathon. Dancers think that three minutes is a long time to be physically active," Seth complained.

"I did ballroom dancing at school, so I picked it up fairly quickly," boasted Sir Michael. No one mentioned the fact that whilst he may have picked up the steps quickly he did not actually do them well.

"I'm finding it really easy," claimed Jessica.

"Well, you're a pop star; dancing is the majority of what you do," I observed.

"No, I mostly sing," she corrected.

"Really? I thought you lip-synced," added Leah, spitefully.

"Just because I'm not the lead singer doesn't mean I mime," defended Jessica.

"Of course not, honey," Leah responded sarcastically.

We even slagged off some of the professionals.

"Have you heard that Alice is clairvoyant?" asked Kate.

"She isn't clairvoyant; she just thinks she is," I responded.

"She predicted that Emmett and Lauren would be out in the first round," said James.

"Fluke," I said.

"She also predicted that you and Edward would get together," added Kate.

"That isn't fortune telling, that's meddling," I replied.

"Come again?" asked Jake.

"She wants us to get together, so she tells us that it's 'meant to be' in an attempt to encourage us."

"So, is she talking out of her arse?" Peter enquired.

"Indeed - Alice Whitlock: Fortune's fool."

"That would be an awesome segment on It Takes Two. Each week Alice predicts what will happen on Strictly," suggested Kate.

"The only trouble with that it's a conflict of interest if she is still on the show," Jake chipped in.

"Well, when her and James get knocked out, we'll have to suggest it," added Leah.

"Not gonna happen. We've got chemistry. We'll make it to the finals," insisted James.

"Did Alice tell you that?" I joked.

At closing time, I reluctantly said goodbye to some of the group and happily parted with some of the others. We all agreed to make it a regular Monday event. It was also decided that we should paint the town red after each show, even if it meant that we became tabloid fodder.

I walked into the dance studio the next morning feeling far more confident than I had before. I had taken Alice's advice about wearing sexy lingerie whilst practising and was wearing a gorgeous fifties inspired navy bra and knickers set with stockings. This underwear necessitated a dress, and I was wearing a stripped long sleeved sailor style jersey dress over it. When I stood in front of the mirror this morning with the dress and a tweed jacket, which Alice had conceded to only because they are suddenly in fashion, I felt good. I looked good. I looked sexy and confident. I even managed a slick of lipstick and some mascara. I was ready for the rumba.

"Morning," Edward greeted, with a big smile on his face.

"Morning. Fantastic news about the song. How are you feeling about it today?" I asked.

"Good, but I'm going to combine singing and dancing practice if you don't mind," he requested.

"That sounds great to me."

"Are you going to get changed?" Edward queried.

"Nope, why?"

"You're not dancing in that, are you?" Edward's brows knitted in confusion.

"Of course. There is loads of room for movement." I removed my jacket and demonstrated my flexibility a bit. "Besides, I'm following some advice of Alice's."

"Oh? What was that?"

"None of your business. But it's working so far, so I shall continue."

We started to practice and I think the lingerie was really working. It was like self-esteem boosting magic. Edward, like the good teacher he was, commented on how much I had improved. I felt great.

When we came to a part of the dance where our bodies were pressed together, Edward took a sharp intake of breath and his voice wobbled. Had he noticed my stockings? I hoped not. How embarrassing. Thankfully, he carried on and remained a consummate professional.

Edward had showed me almost all of the dance and it was really good. Then, just as he was about to show me the final move, he stopped dancing and paused the music.

"How much do you trust me?" he asked.

"More than I trust anyone else," I replied and a sense of unease came over me.

"How strong is your neck? Can you do a headstand?"

Where was he going with this? "Yes, I can do a headstand. Why?"

"I want to try a flashy move where I support the majority of your weight with my hand on your neck. About ten centimetres from the floor," Edward asked, sheepishly.

"What?" This sounded quite scary and I was beginning to get worried.

"We'll start off easily. I'm not suggesting that we go for it all at once. Okay?" reassured Edward.

"All right, how do we go about doing this?"

"Can you get into a crab pose but with your elbows supporting your weight rather than your hands," he instructed.

I did this reluctantly and felt Edward stand very close behind my head. "I'm going to put my hand on your neck and take your weight." Edward spoke slowly and surely, with authority. He gave me complete confidence in his abilities, but I wasn't convinced about mine.

"Okay." I took a deep breath and felt Edward's strong hand on the back of my neck.

"You're doing well so far. When you're ready, take your elbows off the ground. I've got you."

I took a deep breath and slowly lifted my elbows and arms off the ground and brought them in line with the rest of my body. Breathing deeply, I reassured myself that we could do this.

"Excellent. I'm going to lift you up now to standing. Try and stand up."

Edward slowly lifted my neck up and before I knew it I was upright.

"Wow, we did it!" I smiled.

"Well, we did most of it, but we now need to get you into that position without using the crab position first," Edward said in a very reassuringly authoritative tone. I felt like we could do anything Edward suggested.

"We're going to get into that position by basically doing the reverse of what we just did. We're going to start off slow and get faster until we're at the right speed. If this is too difficult we can do something else, but I think it would be a great move to finish on."

Edward put his hand behind my neck whilst I stood up straight, and we slowly lowered my body. As long as I focused on my core muscles I could do it, although I knew they would be hurting in the morning. Never had I been more grateful that I do yoga. Without that I would be hopeless.

We practised this move for hours until my abs were screaming and I decided that we were well and truly in need of a kitchen dance. Putting Billy Idol's "Dancing With Myself" on, I danced crazily and stretched my aching muscles. Edward joined me and slowly turned it into a partner dance. He led me around the floor and even included the move we had spent hours practising. Knowing that we could do it off the cuff boosted my confidence.

"Excellent, ladies. Looking gorgeous. Change poses, please," yelled the bossy photographer. Glamour magazine was doing a huge spread in their up and coming issue on Strictly and, despite my objections, I apparently had to be here too. So, here I was standing next to Jessica Stanley and wearing a shiny pink polyester monstrosity that had huge bows on the shoulders. I looked like a bloody birthday present.

While the female dancers were being photographed, they all relaxed and took it in their stride, but they were used to photo shoots. I had to have photos taken for the sleeves of my books, but that was just the once. I hated the experience so much that I refused to repeat the process for the other books. I was completely new to this, and I felt well and truly like a fish out of water. So I acted like a petulant child and scowled.

"Bella, try and relax. Smile and enjoy yourself," instructed the photographer.

Relax? I'd like to see him try.

"Yeah, Bella, you look like you've got constipation," whispered Jessica, cattily.

I tried to calm down by imagining jamming my stilettos through her jugular, but it didn't help. I could see the photographer getting increasingly exasperated with me.

"All right, lovely ladies, take a five minute break," he said, and before I managed to escape he caught me.

"You seem to be having some trouble with this. When we start shooting again, I want you to close your eyes just before and think of some good memories. If you can't fake happy and relaxed, I need you to really feel that way. Okay?" the photographer insisted.

"Okay," I grumbled. Happy thoughts, I could think happy thoughts. Avebury, dancing with Edward. I felt more relaxed already.

Soon enough the five minutes were up and I was standing under the bright lights again. Thankfully, the order had been switched around, and whilst I was still on the outside, Jessica was now in the centre of the group. Alice sat on a chair in front of me instead.

I tried to think happy thoughts, but I couldn't ignore the fact that I was in the ugliest and least comfortable dress imaginable, and so I couldn't relax. I did my best at imitating the moves of everyone else but it wasn't working.

The photographer was looking even more stressed and irritated with me when Edward, Jasper and Emmett walked into the room. Edward caught my eye and grinned at me. He looked really handsome in his suit without a tie. I smiled back and forgot about the camera.

Suddenly there were loads of camera flashes in quick succession, and the photographer yelled, "Finally! We've got it. You ladies can relax now. We'll now do the couples starting with Charlotte and Sir Mike."

My photos with Edward went loads better, and I had even managed to get a far nicer dress. It was a midnight blue tiered dress with a jewelled halter neck and was an infinite improvement on the pink gift wrapping dress. The nice dress combined with Edward's presence helped me stay relaxed.

When I was waiting for the final picture of all of us together, I was interviewed and the questions got a little too personal for my liking. Along with all the dull questions about how I was finding the dancing and whether I liked working with Edward, the journalist started getting very nosy and I didn't like it one bit.

"You're lucky to have ended up with Edward as your partner," she commented.

"Yes, but then all the professionals are wonderful," I replied, skating over the whole truth.

"Yes, but Edward in particular. He's really hot," the journalist dug further.

"Yes, he is handsome," I conceded.

"Must be difficult to keep your hands to yourself," she said, slyly.

"I manage to remain professional," I replied coldly.

"You two seem to get on well."

"Where are you going with this?" I demanded.

"Are you two an item?"

"No," I snapped. "Any further questions that aren't about my personal life? Perhaps about my novel that is coming out in a few weeks?"

"Could I have Edward's phone number?" she asked hopefully.

"For fuck's sake! Ask him yourself." And with that I stormed out.

"Please welcome to the studio Edward Cullen and Isabella Swan," announced Claudia Winkleman, the presenter of Strictly's companion programme It Takes Two. The crew whooped in greeting for Edward and I as we sat on the curved sofa near Claudia.

"First of all, let me congratulate you two on getting the highest marks from the judges last week. Thirty-two out of forty is one of the best scores we've ever seen in the first week," welcomed Claudia, flicking her long brown hair.

"Thank you very much," Edward and I both replied, Edward confidently, whereas I responded shyly.

"You two put a huge amount of rehearsal time in last week, forty-eight hours in fact. The couple that put in the second longest time, Sam and Leah, only put in thirty hours. Bella, were you that bad that you required extra training?" Claudia probed.

I was speechless. How should I respond to that? Thankfully, Edward stepped in. "We could've got away with rehearsing for a third of that time, but we aren't happy with doing a rubbish job."

Edward's response to the question bolstered my confidence, and I decided to stand up for myself. "I'm completely new to dancing and I was petrified about doing it. I like to be completely and utterly prepared, and thankfully Edward was willing to put in the hours."

"So it doesn't have anything to do with the kitchen dances?" Claudia inquired.

"When you train as hard as we do, doing the same dance to the same music all day, it gets a bit boring. So we liven things up when we can," I defended.

"I also use them to gently improve Bella's dancing," added Edward.

"Well, let's see for ourselves; here are some clips of your kitchen dances," Claudia introduced.

I cringed as they played shots of our various kitchen dances. They even had a clip of me miming shooting Edward when dancing to "Paper Planes". It was so embarrassing.

"You've gone red!" commented Claudia, patting me on the knee.

"I know. I usually dance them in the privacy of my kitchen. It is rather a 'dance like no one is watching' dance," I explained.

"So you don't fancy doing a quick kitchen dance for us now?" asked Claudia with a glint in her eye.

"No!" I replied quickly. Edward just laughed.

"Are you putting in as many hours of rehearsal for your rumba this week?"

"Yes, we wouldn't want to be unprepared this week," I responded.

"The rumba is a sexy dance of love; are you finding that difficult?"

"We seem to be doing okay with that," said Edward, smiling.

"You do indeed; here are some clips of you getting close during rehearsals," Claudia linked, cheekily.

Clips of us smiling, hugging and even the occasional kiss came on.

"You seem closer than the average couple, with the exception of Sam and Leah; is there anything going on between you?" Claudia pressed.

What is it about people assuming we're a couple? This was beginning to get very frustrating.

"No, we're keeping things strictly professional," Edward responded calmly whilst I silently fumed.

"And we were hoping you two would become the next Ali and Brian," commented Claudia, referring to a couple that got together last series.

"Last week you two chose a very unusual song, 'Shining Light' by Ash. Why did you choose it?"

"We wanted a song that we wouldn't get bored by. When you train as much as we do you need a song you like!" I replied, smiling.

"We've made a pact to veto clichéd songs, and we intend to stick to it," Edward added.

"So what are you dancing to this week?" Claudia pushed.

"'Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk' by Rufus Wainwright," Edward lied easily. I tried to smile and not make it obvious that he was lying. It seemed silly that the producers had decided to keep the song we were doing entirely secret. They were editing out the music and Edward's singing from the clips.

"Now that is definitely not a cliché! I look forward to seeing it." Changing the subject, Claudia continued, "I've heard that one of the couples is going to do a Strictly first, but the producers are keeping it very close to their chest. Do you know who is doing it and what they are doing?"

"No idea at all, we're looking forward to finding out," Edward lied smoothly while I tried to keep my face impassive.

"Sorry that's all we've got time for. We wish you two the best of luck with your rumba on Saturday. Keep dancing!"

The next day I was getting fitted for my rumba dress –a nightmare of a dress with a see-through top with strategically placed sequins and a light blue feathered skirt- when, much to my surprise, Angela walked in.

"Bella. How are you?" she asked. I noticed that she had a rolled up magazine in her hand. I had a bad feeling that that was why she was here.

"I'm fine. Loving this dress," I replied with heavy sarcasm. "Are you here to see Ben?"

"No. Have you read this week's Heat?" I just shot her an incredulous look in response. "I guess not. Anyway, you made the front cover."

She unrolled the magazine and showed me the cover. There was a picture of Edward and I eating brunch and the caption "Is Edward Cullen taken?" On the positive side, Cheryl Cole was the main focus of the cover and not me.

I took the magazine from Angela and opened it up to the page she had marked. It had loads of pictures of Edward and I: us dancing, the nightclub incident and at a restaurant we went to this week. There was even a picture of Alice and I outside Agent Provocateur. According to them, we spent every minute of the day together, with the exception of when I bought lingerie for Edward, and were going at it at every opportunity. The journalist from Glamour must've been in on it too because they mentioned my denial, although they were very sceptical about that.

The article even had a quote from an unnamed "friend."

"They may not be together yet, but the sexual tension between those two is crazy. They won't admit, it but they are head over heels for each other. I foresee them getting together in two weeks."

"Alice," I growled. "Can I borrow this?" I asked Angela as I indicated the magazine and stormed out in search of an annoying dancer.

My dress was covered in pins, but I didn't care as I rushed down the corridors and, without knocking, opened the door to Alice's dressing room.

I was greeted with the sight of Alice on her knees in front of Jasper. Thankfully, I didn't see anything too graphic, so I repressed it and decided that his fly was stuck and she was just helping him mend it. I certainly never wanted to see that again, even if it was just the fly.

I turned and walked out immediately and ran slap bang into Edward.

"You all right?" he asked while steadying me so I didn't fall.

"Your sister is supremely irritating," I fumed.

"I could've told you that. What has she done now?"

I handed him the magazine. "What does this have to do with Alice besides her being photographed with you?" Edward asked, confused.

I read him the quote from a "friend."

"Now, what 'friend' do you think that could be?"

"Ugh! I'll have a word with her."

I could see his hand moving for the door handle and yelled, "No! Knock first!"

Edward looked bemused but knocked.

"Give us a minute," was the muffled reply. Edward raised an eyebrow at me.

"You don't want to know," I said.

A grunt came from the dressing room. "I really don't. Ignorance is bliss," Edward replied.

Shuffling and sounds of clothing being rearranged could now be heard and then a very fresh faced Alice opened the door.

"Hello! Sorry about that. Jasper was helping me with some flexibility training," Alice greeted.

"I bet he was!" I replied.

"Anyway, 'friend.' Care to explain yourself?" Edward asked as he showed her the Heat magazine.

"Cheryl Cole's had a boob job!" screeched Alice. "Can I borrow this?"

"No. We're more concerned with this story regarding our apparent relationship. You know, the one you told about our 'sexual tension'," I spat.

"Oh that one. I was only telling the truth. Don't get annoyed with me about it. Besides, it's good publicity."

"How? They didn't mention my novels, and I don't particularly appreciate having my love life discussed in the gossip rags," I pointed out.

"Well, you should get used to it now. You're a celebrity. Nice dress by the way."

"Don't change the subject. And don't talk to gossip magazines about us ever again," I insisted.

"Fine. Seriously though, I like your dress. I probably wouldn't accessorise it with dressmaker pins."

"Really? I thought they added something. A bit punk in a way that primetime BBC audiences could accept…" I joked.

"Bella, it's almost time for our practice in the studio. We better go," said Edward. "Alice, we'll see you later. Don't go talking to any journalists in our absence."

"What a shame. I promised Closer all the gossip." Alice pouted.

"You're hilarious. Bye," said Edward, drily, and we walked away.

"Is this what being famous is like? Having paparazzi follow you around and people making suppositions about your life?" I asked.

"It can be."

"Wish I'd stayed in Avebury," I said, wistfully.

"Then you'd never have met me."

"Swings and roundabouts." I smiled.


A/N: I've had a few musical suggestions so far that I've really appreciated and I'd love some more.

Glossary

Paint the town red: Party

Slagged off: Criticised.

Swings and roundabouts: A common British saying that means that the good things come with the bad.