The car drew up outside the large mansion and Casey glanced up with interest at the faux-gothic structure. Some television producer somewhere had delusions of grandeur when he paid for this house. It was…ridiculous. There was no other word for it; more castle than house, more Dracula than the Cullens.
Ridiculous - and her home for the next five weeks!
As the cab driver dashed around to open her door, she grabbed her purse and searched the entrance to the grey building hopefully. She had no idea who she was meeting or what was in store for her because her cell phone had died permanently the day before and whilst she knew where she had to be and when, she hadn't been able to get in touch with Paul's niece to confirm.
It made Casey nervous. Her previous brushes with fame had been short and planned, even the ones with Derek by her side. This was more unpredictable, and she had been regretting the decision to come ever since it was made. Particularly because Nora still hadn't been able to reassure her that Derek was okay. Her mother had told her that she had spoken with him, but then refused to share.
The car door opened and she climbed out, the driver disappearing round to the trunk ready to remove her bags.
"Miss McDonald!" A familiar voice called and Casey recognised the form of Paul's niece.
"Miss Greeby!"
"Please…call me Luan. We're going to be spending lots of time together and "Miss Greeby" makes me feel like an errant school girl."
Casey grinned, taking a liking to the young woman. "Then it's Casey…and you're right. We're going to be good friends I'm sure. I'm sorry I didn't call to confirm, my cell died."
"That's fine. I…erm…need to go through a few things with you but we can do that now you are here. Let me show you to your room so you can get settled in."
Luan was dressed in a smart but inexpensive suit in a lovely deep burnt orange colour that suited her dark skin perfectly. Casey envied her the ability to wear the colour because it was warm and not at all garish. The researcher led Casey into the house and up the main staircase to the upper levels; a short man of about forty picking up Casey's suitcases and following behind them.
The inside of the mansion was as dark and foreboding as the outside and Casey shivered. Luan giggled.
"Horrible isn't it? Apparently, the person who built the house here had shipped it brick by brick from Scotland where it was the country seat of a distant member of the Royal family in the time of Jane Austen. By all accounts he was a strange guy. The house is riddled with secret passages and strange nooks. The studio exec who forked out the fortune to move it in the fifties was just as strange. When he died he left the place to the production company for use as a set. Fortunately, the current owners are quite business focussed and when it isn't being used as a set it functions as a corporate hospitality centre. The rooms have been altered to have en-suites and other modern facilities, but because of the requirement that it look authentic in films everything is very well hidden. I hope you like horror movies."
Casey nodded. "I've watched a fair few." She said, and allowed her mind a very brief flicker back to nights spent in the shared house in Kingston with Derek, James and Carl.
"There are three levels to the house: the ground-level first floor where all the rehearsal rooms, dining areas, sitting rooms etc are located; the middle or second floor where the eight of you starting out in the competition will be staying; and the top floor where the production staff and hotel management etc are located. You each have your own room, but you are encouraged to spend some down time in the shared areas."
Casey nodded as they reached a room at the end of the corridor.
"And this is your room." Luan said, throwing open the door.
As rooms went it was dark, irregular-shaped and strangely eerie. It even had a small balcony covered in ivy. They entered and the small man behind them slipped past and stacked the suitcases beside the bed.
"I'll let you into a secret." Luan said softly. "They wanted you to have one of the rooms further down the hall, but it was next to that racing car driver…you know the one who just got arrested for trashing that hotel. I thought you might appreciate the peace and quiet down here. The room's not as nice but…"
Casey smiled. "No…that's fine. I appreciate the thought process."
She crossed to the bed and sat down. Luan shifted uneasily.
"Erm…Casey?" She moved to sit down beside her.
"Why do I get the feeling you're about to tell me something I don't want to hear."
Luan winced. "Because you're smart…and I look nervous?"
They giggled.
"Look, I'm sorry. I realised this morning why I couldn't tell you the name of that other person. It was because they didn't tell me."
"And?"
"It's Chloe Venturi."
"Prescott." Casey corrected automatically without thinking. "She's not his wife."
Luan nodded and waited for the realisation to hit.
"Hang on. Chloe and I are going to be competing against each other for the duration of this show?" Casey looked horrified.
"Or until one or other of you gets eliminated. I'm sorry. I'd have warned you if I had known."
"Great!" muttered Casey in a voice which sounded anything but happy. "Does Chloe know?"
Luan looked shifty again. "That's the thing that has me worried more than anything else." Paul's niece said and her voice was a whisper. "I think she had some hand in your selection."
After she had unpacked, Casey decided to explore. There was still an hour until the rest of the guests were due to arrive and with them would come the television crews. Casey had wondered out loud why she had been allowed to arrive early and Luan had merely shrugged when Casey speculated that it was probably because she wasn't important or famous enough to warrant media attention.
But Casey was wrong in that assumption. Chloe had persuaded her producer friend to arrange it thus. The media were actually chomping at the bit to get to Derek Venturi's step-sister – now that they knew who she was. The amount of time he had spent with her in the past had them desperate to know more about her. That and the fact that she was one of the few people he allowed into his inner sanctum after his split from Chloe.
The latter wanted to be the one arriving to a gaggle of pressmen – not have her former step-sister-in-law take centre stage. She had asked the producer to mis-inform the press about Casey's arrival time.
Luan was busy arranging things for the other contestants, but she promised to come and see Casey before everyone else arrived so that she could explain the format of the competition to her. So Casey wandered the corridors of the gothic monstrosity, familiarising herself with the layout and the facilities.
Not all of the building was dark and unfamiliar. She quickly came across a number of conference rooms on the first floor which looked as though they had been re-fitted to take on the role of rehearsal rooms. The thick walls to the rooms gave them good sound-proofing and each room was equipped with an iPod dock, piano and a sprung floor. The feel of the rooms was familiar to Casey reminding her of the many hours she had spent – still spent- learning dance routines. In one particular room there was an immediate temptation to kick off her heels and spin around, despite the stretched jeans she was wearing.
It was a temptation she quickly gave into. She moved to the iPod dock, her eyes widening as she saw that the iPod within it was loaded with hundreds of tracks. She flicked through them and when she saw one she recognised, smiling as she selected it.
The unmistakable tones of Depeche Mode filled the room and she slipped easily into the old routine she knew backwards. She had always thought "Personal Jesus" was an apt title for this routine, because it had always calmed her when she was nervous or upset. She had trawled it out for a couple of competitions, altering the routine as her skill level increased. Today she chose a more basic version so that she could cope with the restrictions placed on her by her jeans.
By the time the music ran to a halt, she was grinning broadly and life seemed a better place. She fell to her end position and a new sound broke through the air.
"Fuck me backwards with a broomstick!" A very British, very Cockney voice cried.
"I'd rather not darling. You'll have to rely on Jordan for that." An equally British, but more cut-glass female accent replied.
Casey turned in surprise.
Standing by the door, mouth agape was Luan. Beside her were two new figures: a very tall, obviously camp but, nevertheless, well-built guy of about forty and a slim, but large-chested lady of a similar age. Casey looked horrified at being caught doing something she hadn't obtained permission for doing but before she could say anything, the camp guy spoke.
"Oooo. I can't wait for that fucker Maurice to see you sugar pie!" he exclaimed.
Casey stepped forward. "Luan. I'm so sorry, I…" But again, she was interrupted, this time by the Lady.
"Sorry? For what? Trevor's right, darling. Maurice is going to throw a fit when he sees you."
Casey frowned. Luan moved to reassure her. "Casey, this is Harriet and Trevor. They are going to be your trainers for the duration. Trevor is your dance instructor and Harriet is your singing coach. Trevor also does a nice side line in costume selection. Each of the contestants will have a dedicated team with them. This is your team." She leaned forward and whispered. "Personally, I think you've got the best. Some of the others are more famous…these are more fun."
Trevor swept up to Casey and dramatically kissed the back of her hand.
"You, duckie, have made my fucking year." He announced. "Ooo. I can't wait!" He giggled. Harriet rolled her eyes and held out a well-manicured hand to Casey for her to shake.
"Excuse him. He's on cloud nine because Maurice has just stolen Little Miss Ego out from under Trevor's nose, leaving him with –and I quote- the "sloppy leftovers"…and now Trevor has found out that the "Sloppy leftovers" are actually rather good. Tell me…do you sing?"
Casey, still slightly bemused, nodded.
Harriet walked over to the piano in a way that spoke of finishing schools and Cheltenham Ladies' College. She sat down, all business.
"Do you know this?" She said and began to play the introduction to "Killing me softly." Casey nodded.
"Sing!" She demanded. Casey did as she was told.
After a few minutes, Trevor sneaked over to the rehearsal room door. He opened it, peaked around and slammed it shut, locking it behind him.
"I don't know about her killing him softly." He announced. "But she's killing me!" Casey frowned.
"In a good way duckie. In a good way." Trevor added, and Harriet nodded. Luan had a big grin on her face.
"When you said you could sing and dance…you weren't exaggerating." She laughed.
Trevor was looking at Harriet. "We need a game plan. I say we keep Casey's abilities under wraps for a while. You know…nice easy dance routine to start, then blow them out of the water in the second week or something."
Harriet raised an eyebrow. "You really do have it in for Maurice don't you? You know, you can take the old jilted lover thing a little too far Trevor."
"Hey. He started it with that "leftovers" comment. I'm sure Casey doesn't appreciate being compared to cold Irish stew."
"Seriously?" Casey asked. Luan nodded.
"Maurice wasn't very polite. Tell me. Can Chloe sing?"
Casey shrugged. "I've no idea. We've only met once."
Harriet looked surprised. "I thought she was your sister-in-law."
"She met and went through a "marriage" ceremony with my step-brother during a three year period when he and I were…estranged. I once bumped into her when I was sneaking into his house…We had a terse conversation and I left. End of."
"Sneaking into his house?"
"His housekeeper was dreadful." Casey replied as though that explained everything, and when she saw their confused looks, she shrugged. "Long story. I'm a clean freak." She winced as she uttered the word "freak". Silence fell.
Trevor recovered first. "Well I doubt she's anywhere near as good as you. Do you still dance regularly?"
"When my tour schedule allows. And occasionally I teach a class or two."
Trevor turned to Luan in amusement. "Do you know I actually groaned when they told me I was going to be training an author?" He slung an arm around her shoulder. "Duckie, you and I are going to make beautiful dance moves together."
Derek lay on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. He was deep in thought. The process went on for a while and then when he tore his eyes away from the flat white surface and looked to his left, his eyes lit on the delicate vase beside the window onto the garden.
The first thing he had done when Nora left was move all his clothes and personal items back into his proper bedroom. The second thing he had done was phone his house-keeper to arrange to re-employ her.
The third thing was to retire to his bedroom to stare at the ceiling rather than dial the digits written on the slip of paper that Nora had given him.
Casey's cell.
In fact Nora had given him two things: the number, and hope.
Eventually, he plucked up the courage to type in the number only for it to ring seven times and then click to voicemail.
What he didn't know was that Casey had been in the shower when the phone rang, and in her haste to round her bed and pick up her phone from the dresser, she had tripped, knocking the phone flying into the wall where it had shattered into a thousand pieces. Life sucks sometimes.
He decided that the fact it rang for so long meant she hadn't been there to answer it rather than that she was rejecting the call. So he settled for dialling the number again and when it dropped to voicemail straight away he left a message.
"Hi Princess, it's me. Erm…I know I'm not your favourite person right now, but…look just call me okay? We need to talk. I need to warn you about something and…just…I miss you, honey. Okay…erm…yeah well…beep."
Derek sighed at his complete ineptitude at relationships – or rather the one relationship that counted and tried yet again to analyse Nora's words.
The next morning, when it was clear that Casey wasn't phoning back, when his nearly-new housekeeper was getting started on erasing the self-destruction of the previous weeks, and when he had eaten a pile of home-made Casey pancakes from the freezer, he got showered and dressed.
Clearly, he couldn't do anything about the Casey situation right now. However, Casey had not been the only family member that Nora had talked to Derek about.
Derek was going to see Edwin.
AN: Life, Fanfiction and my broadband supplier having an off-day made this late.
Let's hope fanfiction lets you read it.