Northampton, UK

2nd Kindle Edition published 2020 by Parkland Independent Books

Text, Copyright 2020 Marc Nobbs

Cover Art, Copyright 2020 Marc Nobbs

Kindle Edition, License Notes

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

The right in UK Law of Marc Nobbs to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright holder.

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Mature Content

This ebook contains sexually explicit material and is intended for free‐thinking individuals over the age of 18. By downloading and opening this book, you are stating that you are of legal age to access and view this work of fiction and that doing so is legal in the territory where you reside.

This book uses uncompromising adult language to depict uncompromising adult activities. If that is likely to offend you, sorry, but you downloaded the wrong book, please go and do something else.

Note 1

"Kissed by a Rose" was inspired by a Classic SOL story, "Transcending the Role" by Don Lockwood. The setting is slightly different—a university rather than a High School—the characters are a little older and "Kissed" is almost three times longer and has more sex scenes in it. But the story has the same premise—a movie star who tries to continue her education and falls for an "ordinary" boy—and hits some of the same beats.

If you haven't read Don's story, I would heartily recommend you give it a try

Note 2

Just like a number of my other novels, Kissed by a Rose takes place in Westmouth, Westmouthshire—a fictional town and county on the South‐East Coast of England. In fact, it was the first novel written to be set in the county. It makes use of some of the locations which appear in the other Westmouthshire Novels and may also reference characters and events from them.

So if you’ve read any or all of The Lies We Lead, Eternally & Evermore, A Good Man, A Tortured Soul, The Big Four Ohhh! and Charlotte’s Secret then keep your eyes open and allow yourself a wry smile when you spot a reference.

But can you spot them all?

Oh, and one more thing. This book uses uncompromising adult language to depict uncompromising adult activities. If that is likely to offend you, sorry, but you bought the wrong book.

September 2008

Adam closed George Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty‐Four and turned it over to look at the cover. He didn’t see the connection between the illustration and the story, but then he never did with these so‐called ‘modern classic’ editions.

He lay back on his bed, stared at the ceiling and thought about the book. He’d read it before, at school, but he had gotten more out of it this time. He didn’t like the political propaganda, but it had an entertaining plot and was well written and that’s what counted.

He sat up, swung his legs off the bed and went to sit at his desk. After depositing the book on the larger of two piles at the back of the desk, he picked up a pen, examined the list that lay between them and put a small tick by Nineteen Eighty‐Four. Now only six items were not ticked. He’d surprised himself. He might just pull it off. He was aiming to get through all the books on his reading list before he started university at the end of the month. He knew he’d have to read them again more closely during the course, but for now, he wanted to read them for pleasure. There were better ways to spend his summer holiday, but all of them cost money. What was the point of taking a gap year, working hard to hold down two jobs and saving every penny he earned, if he was going to blow it all before he even got to Westmouth?

“Hey, Adam! What’s up?” His sister, Laura, ran into the room. She had a copy of Fame magazine clutched in her hand.

“Sod off, squirt.”

“No, you sod off.”

“This is my room.”

“Whatever.” She waved a had dismissively and sat on his bed. “Have you heard the news?”

“You mean that thing about those twin girls in Bedford? It’s awful, isn’t it? How could someone do something like that?”

“No. Not that. This.” She thrust the trashy celebrity magazine towards him. He glanced at the main article, which was about a coke‐head rocker and his supermodel girlfriend.

“Laura, I really couldn’t give a toss about Pete and Kate. It’s trivial.”

“No.” She pointed to one of the smaller articles on the page. “This.”

Adam read the short piece then looked up at Laura with surprise. “This isn’t true, is it?”

“Sure is. It’s been on the radio and the telly too.”

“Unbelievable.” He glanced up at a poster on his wall of the nineteen‐year‐old actress, Chloë Goodman, posing in a bikini on a golden, sun‐kissed beach. She had her hands in her hair, which thrust her boobs out. The pose made Adam shiver every time he looked at it. The sun was setting over the sea behind her, giving the photo a dream‐like quality. She looked every inch the modern sex siren.

The poster was the centrefold from a Ladz magazine photoshoot six months earlier, promoting the DVD release of the movie Charlotte’s Secret. It was the only issue of Ladz Adam had ever bought—and he only bought it because Chloë was on the cover. She had been his favourite actress ever since he’d seen the powerful drama High School Hell.

He had a thing for dark‐haired girls. His last two girlfriends both had black hair and his favourite pop starlet, Tina Thomson, was famous for her refusal to bow to record company pressure and go blonde. Adam figured his taste in women had something to do with the stereotype of dumb blondes and smart brunettes. He found intelligence sexy. It was one of the reasons he liked Chloë—she always portrayed strong, intelligent young women and came across in her interviews as very bright.

But there was something else. Her dazzling smile had won awards. The lads’ magazines worshipped her feminine curves—they had even voted her Britain’s sexiest starlet ahead of her waif‐like rivals. There was a glint in her eye that suggested she was a little bit naughty. But it wasn’t any of those things.

Adam felt a connection with her. He felt as if he knew her even though he knew that was stupid. She was the latest in a long line of English Roses to grace the silver screen whereas he’d worked at McDonald’s for the last twelve months. They weren’t ever likely to meet unless she happened to be in town and fancied a burger—and what were the chances of that?

“I know!” Laura was bouncing with excitement. “I bet you’re glad you took that gap year now, aren’t you? You’re going to be on the same course as Chloë Goodman! You’ll have to smarten up before you leave for uni. Think you can do that in two weeks?”

“Yeah, right. As if she’s going to want to mix with the likes of me. Can you really see her living in one of the halls of residence? Or slumming it in the Student’s Union bar? She’ll be holed up in some posh pad, mixing with all the other rich kids in the best nightclubs. All the club owners have probably reserved her place in the VIP section already.”

“I can dream though, can’t I?”

“And that’s all it’ll be. A dream. Forget it, Sis. I’m not going to bring a movie‐star to Christmas lunch this year. Or any year, come to that. Now sod off and leave me in peace. I’ve got work to do.”

October 2008

The English Tourist Board marketed Westmouth as “The Jewel of the South Coast.” It was a stunning example of Victoriana at its most splendid and typified the seaside resorts that were popular during that era. The seafront, with its whitewashed hotels and guesthouses and its three magnificent piers stretching out into Westmouth Bay, had graced many a picture postcard. Further inland, the Winter Gardens harboured holidaymakers on rainy days and, in recent years, the new conference centre of the same name played host to the annual conference of one political party or another. The Arboretum, with its landscaped gardens full of exotic plants from around the globe and huge boating lake, was another tourist favourite.

After the heyday of the British seaside in the fifties and sixties, Westmouth avoided the sharp decline that befell towns like Blackpool, Scarborough and Skegness by appealing to the older tourists who didn’t want to jet off to the Spanish Riviera. Westmouth was the base for many a coach party touring the Garden of England in the country’s south-eastern corner. The town was also popular with the young and trendy. There was a direct train into the heart of London, and many young professionals made Westmouth their home or weekend retreat. Property prices were high, unemployment low. It was one of Britain’s most prosperous towns.

Many of the commuters felt at home in Westmouth because it was where they had spent their student years.

Westmouth University was a highly respected institution. Not as large or as wealthy as some of the city universities, it nevertheless had a proud history. Princes, kings and presidents had studied at “Westy” along with leading businessmen and award‐winning wordsmiths. There had been a college on the current campus, at the top of Westmouth Hill to the north‐east of the town, for over a hundred and fifty years. It was a mixture of old and new buildings. The refurbished nineteen‐seventies’ Student’s Union building sat happily alongside the hundred and twenty-year-old library. The historic departments of English and Mathematics cuddled up next to the ultra‐modern Institute of Sports Science.

Adam had received offers from six universities in all, including some of the largest and most prestigious universities in the country, but he’d settled on Westmouth as soon as he stepped off the train on his first visit. He’d known straight away that his future lay by the sea.

He sat on his bed and looked around at the bare walls of his new room. His parents had helped him move into the campus apartment earlier in the day, but they were long gone, leaving him alone to think about how the next three years might pan out. Someone knocked on his door. “Yeah?”

The door swung open and two of his new flatmates stepped into the room. “Hi. I… I’m Edward,” said one. He was a tall, burly young man with closely cropped dark hair.

“Hi, Edward. I’m Adam.”

“Hi. Actually, I prefer Eddie.”

“Cool.”

“And I’m Cassie,” said the young blonde woman standing behind Eddie. She was a head shorter than him and attractive in a classical way. She reminded Adam of actress Michelle Adams in her youth and he could picture her on the big screen playing a dippy heroine in a RomCom. “Strange feeling, isn’t it? You ever lived away from home before?”

“No. No, I haven’t,” Adam replied. “And yes, it is a bit weird. Reckon I could get used to it though.”

“Yeah. Me too. Have you eaten?” Eddie asked.

Adam shook his head.

“Well, we’re going over to the Student’s Union. Apparently, there’s a pizza bar.” He raised his eyebrows and the pitch of his voice at the end of the sentence, which made it sound like a question even though it wasn’t.

“Pizza and a pint?” Adam rubbed his hands together. “I’m up for that. When are you leaving?”

“Now, if you’re ready.”

The pizza bar turned out to be a small hatchway in the main Student’s Union bar. The room was crammed full of people. Adam, Eddie and Cassie were lucky to find a table. They quickly decided what toppings they wanted on their pizzas and Eddie offered to place the order and buy the first round of drinks.

“I think I’m really lucky,” said Cassie, “because you and Eddie seem so nice. Of course, I don’t really know you yet because we’ve only just met, but I can usually tell about people pretty quickly. It’s a gift. I can’t wait to meet our other three flatmates too. I wonder why they didn’t arrive today? I do hope they’re cool too. I mean, we could be landed with anyone, couldn’t we? But I guess that’s the chance you take when you live in university accommodation.”

“I guess so. At least we know the rent isn’t a rip‐off and the flat is well maintained. Some of the horror stories I’ve heard about private landlords would turn your hair white.”

“We’re going to have such a good time this year though, don’t you think? I hope the others don’t turn out to be too geeky. Could you imagine living with someone who only wants to work and complains about your music all the time? It would be like living with your parents, wouldn’t it?”

They lapsed into a nervous silence. Adam looked around. It wasn’t what he’d been expecting—not that he’d known what to expect. He’d been in some grotty bars in his time, but this wasn’t like that. There were three pool tables lined up on one side of the room, along with some video games and a jukebox, with a glass wall overlooking the campus green behind. The bar and pizza hatch took up another side of the room, and the rest of the space was filled with tables and chairs arranged on different levels. On one raised platform, which was separated from the rest of the room by a chrome bar at waist height, a large, rowdy crowd seemed to be slowly expanding.

Adam wasn’t sure many more people would be able to fit on the platform without someone getting hurt. He craned his neck to see who the centre of attention was, but he couldn’t make them out. When Eddie returned and distributed the drinks, Adam asked, “Any idea what’s going on over there?”

“Chloë Goodman,” said Eddie.

“Seriously?” said Cassie. “It would be so cool to meet her. Should we go over? Do you think she’d mind? Does anyone have a pen? I could get her autograph.”

“What’s the point?” said Eddie. “I think she’s got enough people worshipping her to keep her ego stoked for the time being. I don’t know what someone like her is doing coming to university in the first place. It’s not like she needs the degree to enhance her job prospects or anything, is it? What do they say she earned for her last film?”

“Two million dollars,” said Cassie. “Can you imagine that? Two million. It was a great film though, wasn’t it? Have you seen it? I’ve got the DVD in my room. We could watch it later if you like.”

“Two million dollars?” Eddie shook his head. “What’s that in real money?”

“About a million quid, give or take. Although I think the exchange rate has come down a bit over the past couple of months, hasn’t it? So it’ll be a bit more than that now I suppose,” said Adam. “I don’t think she’s doing it for her career though. I reckon she just wants to better herself. You know, prove she can do it. It must be really hard being so famous that you can’t even go to the pub without being mobbed.”

“Oh, yeah,” said Eddie. He rolled his eyes. “It must be really difficult. I reckon it’s all just a publicity stunt, you know—a way of keeping her name in the papers. The celebrity magazines love that sort of shit. Fame has already pledged to keep a diary of what she gets up to.”

“You read Fame?” Cassie asked, the surprise evident in her voice. “I had you down as a Ladz lad.”

“I am,” Eddie replied quickly. “My sister reads Fame.”

“And you just pick it up when she’s finished with it,” said Adam. He nodded and stroked his chin. Then he laughed. “Yeah, me too.”

Adam’s lectures began two days later. He sat at the back of a small lecture theatre, empty seats on either side of him, and readied his note pad.

“Anyone sitting here?” A striking dark-haired girl gestured towards the seat on Adam’s right.

He shook his head. “No. No one.”

“Do you mind?”

“Not at all.”

She sat on Adam’s left. “Thanks. I’m sorry for being so forward, but I don’t know anyone here and you look sort of friendly. I’m Kim. Kim Gaiman”

She offered her hand, which Adam shook. “Adam Smith. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

They watched the room slowly fill as the top of the hour approached. Adam guessed that there were between sixty and seventy students in the room. He knew they would all be taking variations of the English Literature degree. Some, like him, would be adding The Classics, others would choose American or European Literature. The lecturer arrived right on time. She put a big black briefcase on the desk at the front of the room, took out some papers and stood in front of them, ready to begin.

“Good morning. I’m Dr Hilary Banks. Welcome to the English depar—” There was a knock on the door and someone pushed it open. Dr Banks turned to look. A whispered murmur swept around the room as the person entered.

“I… Erm… I’m sorry,” said the newcomer. She looked terrified. “I… I couldn’t find the room.”

“That’s understandable. I got lost on my first day too,” Dr Banks replied with a kindly smile. “It’s Miss Goodman, isn’t it?”

She nodded. “Chloë.”

“Okay, Chloë. Well, if you’d like to take a seat, I was just about to start.”

Chloë sat on the end of the front row and quickly took a notepad and some pens out of her bag.

“How tragic for Little Miss Movie‐Star,” Kim whispered to Adam. “I’ll bet she didn’t get lost. I bet the chauffeur got stuck in traffic. Either that or she wanted to make a grand entrance. ‘Go around the block again will you, James!’” Kim laughed at her own joke and, although he didn’t find it particularly funny, Adam smiled and chuckled politely.

Dr Banks walked up the stairs at the side of the theatre and handed out bundles of papers to the person sitting on the end of each row, instructing them to pass the papers along until everyone had a bundle. “Right then, let’s get started,” said Dr Banks, when she had returned to the lectern. “In your bundles, you will find a timetable of lectures and seminars for this year’s modules. Obviously, your first task following this lecture will be to draw up an individual timetable based on the modules you have chosen. You’ll also find a reading list for each module. You should already have had this and hopefully have already purchased most of the books you’ll need. If you haven’t then there is an excellent second-hand bookshop on campus that is usually well-stocked. You can get them there.”

Kim leaned towards Adam and whispered, “Like Miss movie‐star will need second-hand books. She’s probably got hold of mint condition first editions of each one.”

Dr Banks was still talking. “There is also a list of seminar and tutorial groups. Seminar groups are usually six or eight students and never more than ten. Tutorials are three or four and never more than five. While seminars are timetabled, compulsory and linked to a module, tutorials are not timetabled or module linked. However, they are still compulsory. You’ll need to co‐ordinate with the others in your tutor group and your tutor to set a time for your meetings.”

Adam flipped through the bundle of papers to see which group he was in. “Hey,” Kim said, “we’re in the same tutorial group. Cool, huh? I’ll know someone. Oh, Miss movie‐star is in our group too. Damn!”

Adam grunted. He was staring with disbelief at the paper. There was his name, in black and white, right below Chloë’s. Dr Banks continued with her lecture, talking about the structure of the course. At the end of the lecture, she indicated that all those students she would be tutoring should wait behind. When the rest of the students had left the room, she called her charges to the front.

“I’ve got six tutor groups this year, which is quite a workload on top of everything else, so I’d like to meet every other week if that’s okay with everyone.” She looked around the room but there were no objections. “Good. This way I can see three groups per week, which should make things easier to fit in. Let’s see when I’m free…”

Neither Adam, Chloë nor Kim indicated a preference for the three time-slots that Dr Banks offered and ended up with a session on Friday morning. Their first meeting would be in three weeks. Dr Banks asked Chloë to wait behind for a chat while the remaining students trooped out of the room.

“I wonder what that’s about,” Adam asked.

“Banks is probably giving her a telling off for turning up late. You know the sort of thing—just ‘cause you’re famous it doesn’t mean you can flout the rules.”

“I guess so.”

“Say, do you want to go get something to eat?” she asked. “I’m starved. We could go to the canteen in the Student’s Union.”

Over lunch, Adam agreed to meet up with Kim and her flatmates for drinks that afternoon. His flatmates agreed to go along too when he suggested it. They met up in the Student’s Union bar, which was much quieter than the first time Adam had visited.

“Oh, thank God!” said Kim.

“What’s up?” asked Eddie.

“Little Miss Movie‐Star isn’t here.”

“You mean Chloë?”

“Yeah. I can’t stand her. Attention-grabbing little slut. Did Adam tell you that we’ve have been landed with her in our tutor group?”

Eddie looked at Adam with shock. “Jesus! You’re tutoring with Chloë? You never said.”

“Haven’t really had a chance, have I? I only found out today. Besides, it’s not really a big deal. Is it?”

“Yes!” said Eddie and Cassie together.

“Oh, come on. I know she’s a decent actress and stuff, but it’s not like she’s anyone really important.”

“Decent actress?” said Kim. “Are you serious? Have you seen Don’t Say Goodbye?”

“That’s not very fair,” said Cassie. “I know it was a terrible film, but I thought she did really well given the script she had to work with. Anyway, she proved what she could do in To Eternity and Back. I think she’s brilliant. I’d love to meet her—Adam, are you going to invite her over the flat for coffee sometime?”

“Not if you’re going to fawn over her, no.”

“I promise not to.”

“Okay.”

“I wouldn’t bother,” said Kim. “She won’t go.”

“I still don’t know what she’s doing at university. I mean, she must be taking time off from making movies and stuff and that’s got be costing her a fortune,” said Eddie.

“I suppose you get to a point where you have so much money that making more of it becomes less important,” said Adam.

“I have a theory,” said Kim. “I think I know why she’s here.”

“Come then,” said Eddie. “Spill.”

“Well, she’s a method actor, isn’t she?” Kim looked around the table as if that explained everything.

“Yeah, and…?” said Eddie.

“It’s what they do, isn’t it? They go and experience what it’s like to be the character they are going to play so that they can empathise and emote and shit. She’s probably landed a role as a student in some shitty film and thinks she needs to pretend to be a real student for a while so that she can play it.”

“Don’t be silly,” said Cassie, “Actors don’t do things like that.”

“Method actors do. You know Sam Bradwell, right? The American? Well, apparently, when he had to play a chef, he went to work in a professional kitchen for a fortnight to see what it was like. And when Michelle Adams made Escape from Ghetto High, she went to work at an inner‐city school in New York first.”

“That’s bullshit. All the kids would have recognised her,” said Eddie.

“No, they didn’t. She went in disguise. The movie people made her a prosthetic mask and stuff.”

“There is another theory,” said Adam.

“And what’s that?” said Cassie.

“She’s on my course, yeah? English Lit and the Classics. My theory is that she came across the Classics through her acting, fell in love with them and actually wants to study them.”

“Nah,” said Eddie, “Nobody in their right mind would want to study that crap. I prefer Kim’s theory.”

“That’s because it’s right,” said Kim. “I’ll bet it’s what Chloë is doing. In fact, I’ll bet any money that within a couple of weeks she’ll have found herself a nice, normal boyfriend. Then she’ll boff him for a couple of months and dump him just before she’s due to start making the movie.”

“Well, if she’s only after a good humping, I hope she picks me,” said Eddie. “That’ll be something to tell the grandkids, that will.”

“I can see it now,” said Adam. “You’ll be sitting in your rocking chair on the patio, with a woollen blanket wrapped around your legs, saying, ‘No, really kids, I did. I humped Chloë Goodman.’ I can imagine their reply as well.”

A few drinks in the afternoon turned into a night on the town. Cassie had heard that it was student night in one of Westmouth’s most fashionable nightclubs. As they walked into town, Kim and Cassie led the way while Eddie and Adam straggled along some way behind.

“Kim’s a bit of all right,” Eddie said. “Great legs and fantastic tits. I’d love to get my hands on those puppies.”

Adam gave Eddie a sideways look. “You’re a filthy prev, do you know that?”

Eddie grinned and nodded. “I know.”

Adam grinned. “Yeah, she is nice. We had a good chat this lunchtime. It’ll be great to have someone to go to lectures with.”

“She doesn’t think much of our resident movie‐star though.”

Adam chuckled. “I suspect it’s a touch of the green‐eyed monster. Kim could probably pass for a Chloë look‐alike if she wanted to. She’s probably wondering what Chloë did to deserve the fame and fortune instead of her.”

“Probably. Tell you what, though. I’d love to be a fly on the wall when the two of them meet in your first tutorial. You couldn’t film it on your phone, could you?”

“I reckon they might notice, but I’ll give you a blow by blow afterwards.”

They spent the rest of the night drinking and dancing at a nightclub called Central Pier. Kim stayed close to Adam—even when he left the dance floor.

“Had enough already?” she asked as she walked by his side. “Where’s your stamina?”

He held up his empty beer bottle. “In a fridge behind the bar. Do you want one?”

“I’d love one. I finished mine ages ago.”

The horde of thirsty punters kept the lone barman busy. Adam and Kim propped up the bar and chatted while they waited for service. It may have been the lights from behind the bar illuminating her face, or it may have been his beer goggles, but Adam had trouble dragging his eyes from Kim’s face.

“What?” She wiped her cheek. “Have I got something on my face?”

“No. Nothing like that. It’s just… you’re really pretty, you know.”

Kim blushed—the first crack Adam had seen in her confident demeanour. “Thanks.”

The barman interrupted and took their order. Adam paid for the beers and Kim promised to get the next round.

“Fancy sitting down for a bit? I’m bushed,” he asked.

“Yeah. Me too.”

They found some space on the bench seats around the edge of the room. Kim put the beer bottle to her lips and tipped her head back to pour some of the contents into her mouth. Adam stared at her slender neck as she swallowed the beer. Her dark hair cascaded down her back. She tipped her head forward and put the bottle on the table in front of her.

“What?” she asked in response to his continued stare.

“You know when I said you were really pretty?”

“Yeah.” She smiled. “That was nice.”

“Well, I was wrong.” Her face dropped at his words. “You’re not just pretty—you’re beautiful.”

She put her head to the side. “Awww. That’s really sweet.” She cupped his cheek in her hand. “But I bet you say that to all the girls.”

“No. I mean, only if it’s true.”

“Good answer.” Kim’s eyes sparkled and reflected the lights from the dance floor. She leaned forward and pulled his head towards her. Their lips brushed delicately. Kim closed her eyes. Adam did too. She licked his lips. He opened up and allowed her tongue into his mouth. At that moment, nothing else mattered. Adam’s whole world consisted of Kim. Her tongue. Her lips. Her body. He grabbed her hips and pulled her closer. Her hands roamed his back and her tongue attacked his. When she withdrew her tongue from his mouth, he chased it and she started to suck.

Adam felt as if she might suck his tongue right out of his mouth.

Then she pulled away.

Adam leaned in to resume the kiss, but she put her finger to his lips to stop him. She shook her head. “Not here. Let’s go back to my place.”

They took a taxi back to the campus. Kim was staying in a flat similar to Adam’s. He waited while she fumbled to get the front door keys out of her tiny handbag. He admired the curve of her behind as she bent over and tried to get the key to fit the lock. She finally unlocked the door, pushed it open and turned to face Adam. She kissed him quickly, but forcefully, then took his hand in hers and dragged him to her room. She leaned against the door, threw one arm around his neck and they kissed again. She reached behind with her free hand and searched for the door handle. The door flung open and they stumbled inside. Adam slammed the door shut with his foot and moved his hands over his lover’s body. She tore open his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders. Adam grinned and she returned it with a devilish twinkle in her eye.

He undressed her, lavishing each newly exposed area of flesh with sloppy, drunken kisses. When she was wearing only her lacy black bra and panties, Kim hastened to lock the door and then hurried back. She stood before him, reached behind her back to unclasp her bra and slowly removed it, revealing herself to him. Even in the dim moonlight that seeped into the room from a crack in the curtains, she looked magnificent. She kissed him once more and he fondled her breasts. She fumbled with his belt and ripped open his button fly. His baggy jeans fell to his ankles. He tried to step out of them, got his foot caught and kicked frantically to get them off. She looked down at his predicament and giggled.

“Bloody typical,” said Adam.

“Here, let me help.” Kim knelt, caressing his cock through his boxers on her way down, and disentangled him. “There, all better.” She looked up at him, smiled and then grabbed his boxers and yanked them down. “May as well get rid of these at the same time, don’t you think?”

His cock sprang free and she caught it in her hand. “I hope you know how to use this,” she said as she stroked his erection.

“I’ve got a fair idea.”

She stood and removed her panties. “Show me.” She took his hand and led him to the bed where she lay down and pulled him on top of her. He slipped into her and she moaned as the air left her lungs. Adam gave her several long, slow strokes, and then set about fucking her as if he may never get another chance. He slammed into her with such body‐shaking force that it made her breasts bounce almost violently with each thrust.

She was vocal. Extremely vocal. She whooped, oohed and ahhed.

She took the Lord’s name in vain and screamed her delight at Adam’s efforts.

But such was the ferocity of their passion, it couldn’t last long.

And it didn’t.

No birdsong greeted Adam the next morning, just a tinny radio playing pop music which hurt his ears. He struggled to open his eyes and then wished he hadn’t as they were assaulted by gloomy autumnal light. A marching band kept time in his head and his mouth and throat were filled with sawdust flavoured cotton wool.

He groaned, rubbed his head and sat up. It slowly dawned on him that this wasn’t his room. The bed was in the wrong place and the walls were bare. Then he remembered he’d moved into a student flat and hadn’t put any posters up yet. But something still didn’t feel right.

The door opened and Kim entered. “Morning sleepy. I made you some coffee.” She was wearing his shirt like a nightgown. It looked better on her than he could ever have hoped it would on him.

Adam realised where he was.

“Oh, my God.” He searched his foggy brain for the right memory. He couldn’t find it. “Kim…? Last night…? Did we…?”

She sat on the bed and nodded. “Three times. Don’t you remember? God, it was good. I can’t believe you can’t remember.”

“Three times?”

“Yep. It was really quick the first time—I think we were both over‐excited. But the second time was amazing—I’ve never come like that before. And the third was really lovely too—slow, sweet and gentle. You don’t half have some stamina, you know.”

“Three times?” Adam shook his head. “Seriously? But I didn’t have any condoms on me.”

“It’s okay. I’m safe. And clean.”

“How do you know I am?”

“I trust you.” She handed him a mug of steaming coffee. “I didn’t know how you took it, so I left it black, but made it sweet—like you. I hope that’s okay.”

“Thanks, it’ll do just fine.” He sipped the drink. “Hey, what time is it?”

“Quarter past eight.”

“Shit!” Adam swung his legs off the bed and began to stand up. Then he realised he was naked and stayed where he was. “Could you pass my boxers please?”

“It’s okay. It’s nothing I haven’t already seen. I got up close and personal with it last night.”

Adam smiled awkwardly—it was more like a grimace—and nodded towards his pile of clothes on the chair across the room. Kim stood and retrieved his clothes. “What’s so urgent?”

“We have a lecture at nine. Or had you forgotten?”

“No, I haven’t forgotten.”

“I need to go back to my flat and get changed, have a shower—you know, all that morning shit.”

“Okay. I guess I’ll see you at the lecture then.”

Adam raced back to his flat and opened the door as quietly as he could. He hoped his flatmates were still asleep because he didn’t think he could face any questions. He crept to his room and looked at his watch. It read half-past eight. If he was lucky, he might just make it. He undressed, wrapped a towel around his waist and headed for the shower. But the bathroom door was locked. He rattled the handle in frustration.

“Who’s there?” It was Cassie.

“It’s me.”

“Who? I can’t hear very well over the water.”

“Adam!”

“Oh. So the dirty stop‐out has returned to clean up.” She chuckled. “Don’t worry. I won’t take long.”

Adam traipsed back to his room. So much for not having to face any questions. Of all his flatmates, Cassie had been the one he least wanted to run into. He stared at his bed. It was so inviting. He made a decision. His head still thumped and he felt a little sick—and not just from the alcohol. He pulled the towel from around his waist, put on his pyjamas and crawled into bed. He quickly fell into a dreamless sleep.

A knock on his door snapped him awake.

“Wha…? Who…?”

The door inched open and Eddie’s head poked through the gap. “You’ve got a visitor.”

“What…? What time is it?”

“Ten past ten. Should I tell her to come back later?”

“Who?”

“Kim.”

Adam wasn’t surprised. He pushed himself into a sitting position, propped up against the headboard. “No. Let her in.”

Kim stomped into the room and stood with her hands on her hips. “I saved you a seat.”

“Sorry.”

“So you should be. Why didn’t you turn up?”

“I didn’t feel up to it.”

“You felt guilty, you mean. You’re not going to avoid me that easily.”

“I wasn’t avoiding you. I swear.” Kim could not have missed the uncertainty in his voice. She threw him a look that told him not to mess her about. “I wasn’t. Honestly. I got back here and my head hurt and the bed looked so warm and comfy.”

Kim’s demeanour softened. Her shoulders relaxed and she sighed. “Oh, Adam.”

She shook her head and then sat herself on the bed next to him. He scooted aside to give her more room. She held his face in her hand—just like she had the previous night. “Adam, don’t lie to me. Okay? I’m not stupid. I’m not expecting anything after last night, you know? I mean, it was fantastic and all, but that doesn’t mean we have to commit to each other for eternity, does it? It was just a little fun. What’s wrong with a little fun?”

Adam shook his head.

“Don’t get me wrong, I think you’re very good boyfriend material, but if last night was just a one night stand…” She shrugged. “Well, these things happen, don’t they? Especially after a few drinks. And we’d had more than a few.”

Adam sighed. “I’ve got to tell you, I’m a little relieved.” Kim frowned. “No. No, I didn’t mean… Shit. I meant… I just had this horrible vision of being trapped in some Fatal Attraction nightmare. Or worse still, Basic Instinct.”

Kim laughed. “You’re safe on that front. If I had an ice pick I’d keep it in the kitchen, not by the bed. Seriously though, if it was just a one-time thing, I don’t want it to make things awkward between us. We’ve still got to work together, after all.”

“You’re right. So we’ll forget it happened?”

“No way. It was too good to forget. It’s one to tell the girls back home, that’s for sure. In fact, if you’re ever up for it, I wouldn’t mind having another go.”

“I thought you said…”

“Oh, no. I don’t mean as an item or anything. Just as buck fuddies.”

“Buck fuddies?”

She giggled. “Sorry. It’s this stupid thing we used to do at school. Swap the first letters around.”

Adam thought for a second. “Fuck Buddies?”

“Yeah. You know, friends with benefits. That sort of thing. But there has to be one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“If one of us does meet someone else, the other can’t get jealous. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Adam settled into his studies over the next two weeks as his workload gradually increased. He and Kim sat together in lectures and seminars. They had lunch together most days and went to the Student’s Union bar most evenings with their flatmates. But Adam insisted on studying alone. Even though he and Kim were on the same course, he knew he worked better by himself.

He found that the best place to work was the university’s massive library—that way he didn’t suffer the constant interruptions from Cassie who insisted on asking if he and Kim were ‘officially’ an item yet.

“I still don’t see why you have to work on your own. You’re only going to be reading notes, for God’s sake.” Kim and Adam stood in front of the library. She said the same thing every time he wanted to study by himself. Adam got the impression that she was finding the course more difficult than she expected.

“Because I get easily distracted if there’s anyone there to talk to,” he replied. “Or anything nice to look at.”

She ignored the compliment. “But with the tutorial tomorrow, it’d make sense to look over the notes together.” Kim frowned. “We can show a united front to Little Miss Movie‐Star.”

Adam shook his head. “It’s not a contest and even if it was, I’d still rather look over them alone.”

“Okay.” She didn’t sound as if it was okay. “I’m going to Pizza Hut with the guys from my flat tonight, so I guess I’ll see you at the tutorial tomorrow.”

Kim stomped away and left Adam to climb the stone steps that led to the entrance.

Westmouth University Library was housed in a grand sandstone building at the heart of the campus. Whenever he went in, Adam could smell the knowledge bound in the covers of its books. The library covered three floors and Adam’s favourite spot was a study booth on the top floor, in a corner far away from anyone else.

He found his booth, unoccupied as always, and spread his lecture notes out across the desk. He picked out what he’d written about Nineteen Eighty‐Four and began reading. He was halfway through when heard something.

He stopped and listened. It was coming from the other side of the bookshelf behind him. He lifted his head and listened harder but the noise had stopped. He thought it had sounded like someone sobbing, but he must have been mistaken. He returned to his notes. He’d read just a few sentences more when he heard it again. He listened. There was no doubt this time. Someone was in the next booth, and they were crying. He put his notes down and went to see who it was.

He stared in disbelief—Chloë Goodman was sat at the desk with her head in her hands. He considered his next move. Should he say something or return to his work? After all, he’d been attending lectures and seminars with her for nearly three weeks and they’d yet to exchange two words. On the other hand, they were due to have a tutorial together the next day.

He coughed. “Erm… Are you okay?”

Chloë looked up. “Do I look okay?”

In Adam’s opinion, she looked better than okay, even in her current state. But he thought better of telling her that. “Not really. I was working in the next booth and I heard you crying.”

She huffed. “You heard the big film star sobbing so you thought you come and get the gossip? Why don’t you take a photo on your phone? The magazines will pay more for the story if you have a good picture to go with it.”

“Actually, I didn’t know who it was. I just came to see if there was anything I could do to help. Clearly, there isn’t. I’ll leave you to it.”

Adam returned to his desk and picked up his notes again. What a bitch, he thought. I was only being polite. I guess it must be right what people say about her.

He resumed reading but found it difficult to concentrate. He was about to give it up as a bad job and pack everything away when he heard a delicate cough from the entrance to the booth.

“I… I’m sorry,” said Chloë. She looked at the floor. Her big brown eyes were puffy and wet—her face red.

Was this the same girl who’d won Fame magazine’s sexiest actress award last year? The same girl who for her eighteenth birthday Ladz magazine had celebrated because she was no longer ‘Jail Fodder’. Adam remembered that disgusting headline—It’s Okay to Fantasise About Her Now. She’s Legal!

She flicked her eyes up to meet his and Adam’s heart stopped. “I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just that I’m not used to people being nice to me for no reason. Normally they’re after something.” She paused. “Everyone is always after something.”

Adam gulped. “Don’t worry about it. Apology accepted.”

“Good. I don’t want you to think bad of me.” The hum of air conditioning units filled the silence. Adam couldn’t decide how to respond. Chloë shuffled her feet before saying, “Well… I… erm… I should leave you to get on with whatever you’re doing. Bye.”

She turned to leave. She’d only taken two steps when Adam called after her. “Miss Goodman. Wait.”

She stopped and faced him. “Chloë. My name is Chloë. The only people who call me Miss Goodman are usually trying to sell me something.”

“Right… Sorry… Erm… Chloë, why don’t you sit down for a bit? I’m a good listener. Or so I’ve been told.”

“Thanks, but I don’t want to trouble you with my problems. You’ll think I’m being silly. I mean… What’s a big film star got to get upset about? Right?”

“I don’t know. What has a big film star got to get upset about?”

“But I hardly know you.”

He stood and held out his hand. “Adam Smith.”

She smiled weakly and shook his hand. “Chloë Goodman. Although I guess you knew that.”

He nodded.

“Your name sounds familiar,” she said as she sat down.

“It should. We’re in the same tutorial group.”

“Yes! I knew I’d seen you somewhere before. You sit with that pretty dark‐haired girl in lectures, don’t you?”

He nodded. “That’s Kim. She’s in our tutorial too.”

“Yeah, that’s right. I remember now. Well, it’s nice to finally meet you. I’d have introduced myself before now, but I thought you’d think I was being too forward.”

Adam smiled. “The exact opposite, in fact. We figured you didn’t want to associate with the commoners.”

Chloë’s eyes glazed over and glistened. She looked as if she would burst into tears again. She wiped the corner of her eye and struggled to say, “I’m sorry.”

“Jesus. What did I say?”

She shook her head. “Nothing really. It’s just that… well… that’s what I was upset about.”

“What was?”

She breathed deeply to regain some semblance of control. She shook her head as she said, “I’m so lonely here.”

“Lonely?”

“I know it sounds crazy. I’m the big star, right? I should have tons of friends—and to be honest, there are always people hanging around, but you couldn’t call them friends, exactly. Not real friends. They’re all superficial idiots who think that being seen with me makes them look good. I haven’t met anyone I can talk to. Do you know what I mean? Talk about important stuff. Stuff that matters. It seems that everyone has this perception of me. Either they expect me to be a diva, or they think that I’ll think I’m better than them. Like you did. Am I making any sense?”

Adam nodded. “I sort of know what you mean. The first night we were here, I was in The Union bar with my flatmates and we saw the crowd around you. We all made assumptions. Which is stupid really, because none of us knows you.”

“Yeah, but I bet you think you do. You see me in films and on the TV, you read the interviews and gossip in the magazines and you build up a picture.”

“Yeah,” said Adam, “I suppose we do. It’s not fair, it’s not right, but it’s what people do.”

Chloë sniffed and wiped her eye again. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be burdening you with my problems. I mean, it’s not as if anyone’s died is it? I’m just a spoilt little actress having trouble adjusting to the real world. At least, that’s what is said in Fame last week.” She chuckled, but it sounded false and forced. “I suppose they’re right. D’you know, I’ve lived almost my whole life in this strange celebrity bubble. It’s only now that I’m starting to see it. For more than ten years I’ve had people running around looking after me, catering to me, making sure I was sheltered and protected. I’ve been all around the world, been to more countries than I can remember, but I’ve seen nothing. Experienced nothing.”

Adam stared at her. He couldn’t quite believe it. He was sitting in the university library, next to one of the world’s leading young actresses, and she was pouring her heart out to him. He thought about her media image—strong, confident, powerful, beautiful—and studied her as she looked at the papers scattered on the desk. She was beautiful, that was undeniable—even without the make‐up artist’s magic touch. But she was also vulnerable.

Vulnerable and alone.

A scared little girl. Lost in a world she didn’t understand.

“What are you working on?” she asked.

“I’m looking over my lecture notes. I don’t know what to expect from the tutorial tomorrow, but I want to be prepared in case Banks decides to grill us.”

“Good idea. I’d do the same but my notes are a mess. Nothing like these.” She picked up some of his pages and studied them. “They’re so neat. So organised. How do you manage to do this in lectures? The pace is so fast. I barely have time to write something down before we’ve moved on and I’ve missed something else. How do you do it?”

“I don’t. These aren’t the notes I make in lectures. I use my own scruffy shorthand to get stuff down quickly, then copy it out neatly afterwards.”

Chloë smiled for the first time. It wasn’t the smile that had won her millions of adoring fans, but it was close. “Duh!” She rolled her eyes. “I never thought of doing that. How thick am I, huh?”

“I wouldn’t say you’re thick. You just didn’t think of it.”

“I must be really stupid. Making comprehensive neat copies later is such an obvious thing to do.” She huffed and shrugged her shoulders. “I guess it’s because this is the first time I’ve ever had to make my own notes. When I was growing up, I always had on‐set tutors. They did all that sort of thing.” She shook her head. “I’ve got so much to learn.”

Adam leaned forward. “I tell you what, any time you want, you can borrow my notes and make your own.”

This time her smile was the full-on, million‐dollar, award winner. “Really? That’s so kind.” The smile faded and she started crying again.

“Jesus, what’s wrong now?”

She dried her eyes with her sleeve. “I’m sorry. This is the nicest thing anyone’s done for me in ages.” She shook her head. “God, what must you think of me? I should go. Leave you to get on things.” She pushed herself up out of her seat.

“No!” He almost shouted, then realised where he was and continued in a quieter voice. “Don’t go on my account. I… erm… I was going to call it a day anyway. My head’s spinning. Look, feel free to say no, or even to tell me to get lost, but… Do you fancy a cup of tea? My flat’s just a couple of minutes walk away. My old Nana used to say that there’s nothing better when you’re upset than a cup of strong, sweet Rosie Lee.”

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“You wouldn’t be intruding. Our flat feels like an open house sometimes with the number of people that turn up for a cuppa. Come on, what do you say?”

“I don’t know. How will your flatmates feel?”

“They’ll probably pee their pants because a movie‐star has walked in, fawn over you for five minutes, then get over it and realise you’re just a normal person. And if they don’t and carry on fawning, we could always bugger off to the pub.”

Chloë helped Adam collect his scattered papers and stuff them into his bag which he flung over his shoulder. Chloë held her books against her chest, even though she too had a bag over her shoulder. It was as if she was using them as a shield against the world that was causing her so much pain. As they passed other occupied booths on their way out of the library, Adam noticed that the conversations within them seemed to stop. They passed a couple on the stairs between the first and ground floors. He felt their eyes follow him and Chloë and heard one whisper to the other, “Hey, that’s her. Who do you reckon that was with her?”

Across the library foyer, out the door and down the steps and through the campus. He felt as if everyone was staring at him. But he knew that no one was staring at him—they were gawking at the film star walking by his side. Maybe they wondered who he was, just like the couple on the stairs did, but that was only because he was with her. Had he been on his own, no‐one would have given him a second glance. But that wasn’t the case for Chloë. She was the one everyone wanted to see. She was the one everyone stared at. He wished people would stop whispering, it was driving him crazy. Did they think he couldn’t hear them? That he wouldn’t notice? He glanced at Chloë. She looked as uncomfortable as he felt. As if someone had flicked a switch somewhere within him, he suddenly realised what the past few weeks must have been like for her.

“Come on,” he whispered. “Let’s hurry up.” He lengthened his stride and quickened his pace. She kept step with him and they soon arrived at his apartment. He let them in and led Chloë to the kitchen. Thankfully, his flatmates weren’t around.

“Take a seat and I’ll put the kettle on.”

Chloë sat at the kitchen table while he filled he kettle and got mugs out of the cupboard. “Is it always like that?”

“Like what?”

“All the staring and whispering.”

She half-smiled. “You get used to it.”

“You shouldn’t have to.” He finished making the drinks and handed her a steaming mug.

“This is a university-owned flat, isn’t it?” she asked.

“Yep.”

“It’s really nice. I expected the halls of residence to be dirty and smelly, but this is lovely.”

“It’s fairly new. I was lucky to get a place here. The older halls are as dirty and smelly as you’d expect.”

“I wanted to stay on campus, but they wouldn’t let me.”

“Who wouldn’t?”

“The university. They said they couldn’t take responsibility for my safety. Or wouldn’t.”

“That seems odd. I’d have said you’d have been safer staying on campus than anywhere else.”

“I think what they actually meant is that they didn’t want crowds of fans outside making so much noise that they kept everyone else awake.”

Adam raised his eyebrows. “Does that happen a lot?”

She shook her head. “Never. But who knows what the powers‐that‐be think. They were initially reluctant even to let me come here. They suggested I’d be happier in London. But I didn’t want to go to London. I wanted to go to a smaller town. I did some filming here in Westmouth last summer and thought it was perfect. A coastal town, far from the bright lights, but still quite cosmopolitan. I figured I could come here and be a normal student—like everyone else. Fat chance, huh?”

“I don’t know,” said Adam. “Give it time. It’s only been a couple of weeks. I suppose seeing a superstar walking around campus is still a novelty. I’m sure people will get used to you being around. Eventually, they’ll take no notice.”

“I hope so.”

The front door opened and slammed shut. Cassie and Eddie’s laughter got louder as they approached the kitchen. They opened the kitchen door and stopped in their tracks.

“Fucking hell,” said Eddie. “You’re Chloë Goodman!”

“No, I’m not,” said Adam. “I’m Adam Smith. You’ve been living with me for three weeks—I think you’d know my name by now.”

“Not you. Her.” Eddie pointed at the visitor.

“Is it really you?” asked Cassie. “I mean, really you?”

“Chloë,” Adam said. “There are two of my flatmates. And I suppose you could call them my best friends. This is Eddie. And Cassie.”

Chloë nodded to the pair. “Nice to meet you.”

Cassie sat opposite Chloë. “I can’t believe it. I mean, I knew you were on the same course as Adam, but I never imagined… This is amazing. Chloë Goodman. Wow. I’ve seen all your films. I thought you were amazing in Until Midnight.”

“Thank you.”

Eddie was still standing in the doorway and pointing. “Eddie! Shut your mouth before you swallow a fly,” said Adam.

This shook Eddie out of his trance and he sat carefully next to Cassie—as if scared he might frighten the famous girl away. He offered his hand to the young film star. “I… I… Hello.”

Chloë shook his hand and smiled awkwardly. “Hello.” She tried to release the handshake, but Eddie wouldn’t let go.

“Eddie… Eddie!” Adam glared at his friend.

“What? Oh, sorry.” He let go of Chloë’s hand. “I… Wow. Chloë Goodman. Man, this is unreal. Wait until I tell my mates back home about this. They’ll never believe it. Could I get a picture? My camera’s in my room. No, wait, there’s one on my phone. I’ve got it here somewhere.” He patted his pockets.

“I’m sorry, Chloë,” said Adam. “I expected the guys to be cooler than this. They usually are.”

“Yeah,” said Eddie, “but you don’t usually bring a drop-dead gorgeous, real-life movie‐star back to the flat.”

“Fair point.”

Chloë smiled weakly. “It’s okay. I’m used to it. Perhaps I should go.”

“Don’t be silly,” said Adam. “You’re not leaving because these two are idiots. Have you eaten? I do a wicked plate of beans‐on‐toast.”

“Oh, yes,” said Cassie. “Please stay. It’d be so cool if you stayed.”

Chloë looked at Cassie, then at Eddie, who was smiling like a moron, and finally at Adam. “Okay. But don’t cook. Let’s get take out. For all of us. My treat, Okay?”

Adam drove Chloë to a takeaway not far off the campus and she bought four fish suppers which they took back to Adam’s flat and ate at out of the paper wrappers at the kitchen table. While they ate, the four students exchanged stories. Adam was pleased to see Chloë gradually relax. At first, she didn’t offer any stories of her own but had plenty to say about the other’s exploits. Her movie‐star smile graced them with its presence. Her eyes were no longer puffy but shone and twinkled. She looked happy.

“It must be weird being famous and having people recognise you all the time and stuff,” said Cassie before shovelling some more chips into her mouth.

Chloë swallowed her mouthful of fish and waved her fork in the air. “You know, until the past few days I never really thought about it. I mean, it’s like, I’ve never known any different, until now, so it’s always felt… I don’t know… normal, I suppose.” She stabbed a large chip and ate it.

“How old were you when you started acting?” Adam asked.

She chuckled. “I can’t even remember my first job, but I’ve seen the result. At least, my mom tells me that it’s me. I must have been about nine months old or so.”

“What was it?”

“A television ad for washing powder—you know, one of those that is kind to baby’s skin or whatever. I don’t even know if they still make it. I think the company was sold to one of the big multi‐nationals. Anyway, after that, I did catalogue modelling and more adverts and finally got a regular role on a show when I was six. Do you remember the soap Neighbourhood?”

“Remember it?” said Eddie with a snort. “It’s notorious. Worst soap in television history. Good God, it was awful. Terrible plots, worse scripts. Really low budget stuff. You could even see the walls of the sets move when people walked past. And the acting… Don’t even get me started.” He paused then said, “Shit, you weren’t in it were you?”

She nodded. “For four years. I was in it right up until it was cancelled.”

Eddie looked contrite. “Sorry. I’m sure your acting was all right.”

“I was only ten when I left—how good could I have been? Good enough I suppose because I landed a role in Spy Squad of the back of it.”

“That was my favourite show when I was a kid!” said Adam. “The gadgets those spy kids had were so cool. I mean not by today’s standards, but ten years ago they were cool. I didn’t know you were in that.”

“You couldn’t have been,” said Eddie. “You’d have only been, what, nine or ten or something? All those spies were teenagers. Fourteen, fifteen and sixteen.”

Chloë nodded. “I was nine when I started—just part-time while still in Neighbourhood. I was playing Bobby’s kid sister, Lauren.”

Eddie, Adam and Cassie all went “Ahhh”, as they realised which character Chloë had played. “She wasn’t in it very much until she became a spy herself after a couple of years,” said Eddie. “She was, like, the youngest ever spy in the squad or something, wasn’t she? I didn’t know that was you. But didn’t she get killed off soon after she turned spy?”

“Yep,” said Chloë. “I got a part in Centenary Close and couldn’t commit any time to the show, so they either had to replace me or kill the character off.”

“Now,” said Adam, “I remember you in Centenary Close. That was the best soap on telly at the time. But you were only in it for a couple of years.”

Chloë nodded. “I left to start working on movies instead. I was fifteen when I made Until Midnight and I guess you could say I haven’t looked back since.”

“So what’s happening with the movie career while you’re in Westmouth?” asked Eddie. “Is it on hold or what?”

“It’s sort of on hold.”

“Sort of?” asked Cassie.

“Yeah. I finished shooting a new film just over a month ago. I think they’re planning to bring it out before Christmas so that it qualifies for the Oscars. I’ll probably have to do some publicity for it, but mine is more of a supporting role so I can get away with the bare minimum.”

“What’s it called?” asked Cassie.

“Reunion.”

“I’ve heard of that,” said Eddie. “It’s supposed to be the next Brit‐Flick to conquer the States.”

Chloë nodded. “So they say. Who they are, I don’t know. Studio execs or critics I expect. It’s a story in two halves except that the second half is twice as long as the first if that makes sense.”

“So it’s a story of three thirds?” said Eddie, ever the mathematician.

“Shut up, Eddie,” said Cassie.

“It’s about the relationship between two people when they were at school and then again twenty-five years later when they meet at a reunion.” Chloë sounded very enthusiastic. “I play the female lead, Kelly, when she was at school. It’s a good part, one of the best I’ve ever had. Really meaty. She’s a strong character.”

“You always seem to play strong women.”

“I guess I’ve been lucky because there aren’t that many strong female parts about. Normally they’re bimbos or damsels in distress. But Kelly’s different. There’s this flashback sequence in the second half of the film which is one of the best scenes I’ve ever done. I’d tell you about it but I don’t want to spoil it for you if you go and see the film. I’m opposite Tom Walker. He was really cool to work with. I even got to do my first proper on‐screen love scene. But the real stars are Mark Watson and Lisa Mitchell.”

“Mark Watson?” said Cassie. “Wow! He’s lush. What’s he like?”

“He’s nice, actually. I’ve worked with him before, and he’s taught me a lot. He’s a great director as well as a great actor. I’ve promised to do a film with him over the summer vacation as a favour. He’s directing that one, not acting in it. But from what I’ve seen, his performance in Reunion is off the scale. Both he and Lisa have already been tipped for Oscars.”

“Wow. That sounds really good,” said Cassie.

“Oh, it will be. The script was excellent. Bobby Everett—the writer and director—is a genius. He’s been tipped for an Oscar too.”

“I wonder if the local multiplex will let us in for free if we take one of the stars with us?” asked Eddie.

“Well if they don’t, I’ll hire out the whole place and we’ll have a private screening.” Chloë laughed and the others joined in. She looked at her watch. “Shit! Look at the time. It’s nearly eleven. I should be making tracks.”

“How are you getting home? Do you need a lift?” asked Adam.

“No, but thanks for the offer. It’s only about a mile—not really far enough to bother with the car. I like walking anyway. It’s good for the bum and thighs. Isn’t it, Cassie?”

Cassie held up her glass of wine. “So I’ve heard. But, personally, I never turn down a lift.”

“Well, you can’t walk home alone in the dark,” said Adam. “It’s my fault you’re here, so at least let me walk you home.”

Chloë nodded and smiled. “Okay. That’d be nice.”

Adam’s flat was in the accommodation quarter in the north-western part of the campus. An access road snaked through the residential areas to the campus’ main gate to the north. This opened onto the busy main road into the centre of Westmouth. Chloë took them west, away from the town.

“Where do you live then?” Adam asked.

“I’ve got a house in Baker Street. It’s nothing special, just a two‐up, two‐down, but it’s a quiet part of town and it’s close to the campus. My manager wanted me to stay in this penthouse apartment he found on the seafront—all very high tech, high security—but I told him that I didn’t want to live like a star. The whole point of coming to Westmouth was to get away from all that. So I came out here with my Dad at the start of the summer and found a small place for sale. We put in a generous offer on condition that we completed in time for the start of term.”

“You mean, it’s yours? You actually own it?”

“Of course. There’s no point in throwing money away in rent, is there?”

“Jesus!”

“What’s wrong?”

Adam shook his head. “Well, I just realised that you must be loaded. I hadn’t thought about it until now, but I mean, a million pounds a film is a lot of money.”

She wagged her finger at him. “That’s an exaggeration. I only got half a million dollars for my last film.”

“That’s still over a quarter of a million quid, and that’s not counting all of your other films. What do you do with so much money?”

“Most of it is invested. Locked away. I couldn’t touch it until earlier this year when I turned eighteen anyway. My parents held it in trust. But even now most of it is tied up in investment trusts or property.”

“If it was me I’d want to spend it.”

“Don’t think I wouldn’t like to. I do. I mean, have you seen the new Aston Martin? I’d love one of those. But I also realise that my acting career might not always pay the way it does now. It’s a risky, ruthless industry and everyone’s disposable. I give myself a generous allowance each month, but most of my money is locked away for the future.”

They turned left into a narrow street of small terraced houses. “I’m about halfway along,” said Chloë.

“It certainly is a quiet street. But aren’t you scared the press will find out where you live and camp outside.”

“Yes. But I have a back‐up plan if they do. Actually, I’m hoping that they’ll forget about me soon. If I keep my head down and don’t do anything stupid then even Fame will get bored with their Goodman Diary when it says the same thing every week. I just want to drop off the radar for a while. Well, this is me.” They came to her house, which was indistinguishable from those either side of it.

Adam nodded. “Nice.”

“It’s not much, but it serves its purpose. Would you like to come in and have a look around?”

“Maybe some other time. Like you said back at the flat—it’s late and we have an early start tomorrow.”

“Okay. Some other time.” She stood in front of her door and looked at the floor. “Thank you, Adam.”

“What for?”

“For this evening. For making me feel normal—if only for a short while.”

“Yeah, well. I think you made more than one friend today. Whenever you want to feel normal, feel free to knock on my door. I still have to make you my wicked beans on toast.”

Chloë giggled. “I look forward to it. Goodnight.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek, then blushed and turned her back to open the door. She stepped inside the house. “Goodnight,” she said again before shutting out the world.

Adam turned his back on the house and put his hand on his cheek where the woman he’d fantasised about for the last three years had kissed him. “Bloody hell!”

Adam was drinking his morning coffee in the kitchen when Kim arrived to accompany him to their tutorial with Dr Banks. The English department was the third of three buildings surrounding the main square in the centre of the campus. It was on the western side, opposite the Student’s Union building to the east. The library was to the north of the square. The south side of the square was open, and because of its position high on Westmouth Hill, it offered a magnificent view of the town and Westmouth Bay beyond. Dr Banks’ room was on the fourth floor. By the time they had climbed the stairs, Adam was out of breath and his legs were aching.

“Why don’t they have a lift?” he asked.

“The stairs keep you fit,” Kim replied. “I’ll bet our little movie bitch expects there to be a lift. She’s probably got someone to carry her up the stairs if there isn’t one.”

“Give it a rest will you, Kim. This Chloë bashing is getting tired. Besides, she’s a nice girl deep down.”

“And how would you know?”

Adam was going to answer but they entered the corridor where Dr Banks’ office was and found Chloë waiting by the door. “Hi, Adam.” She grinned and kissed his cheek. Then she held out her hand. “You must be Kim. Adam told me about you. I hope we can be friends.”

“Told you…? When?”

Adam ran his hand through his hair. “I bumped into Chloë in the library last night. She came round the flat for coffee and ended up buying us all supper.”

“You never said.” Kim didn’t look pleased.

“I never got a chance.” Adam tried not to look embarrassed.

Kim fixed a smile and shook Chloë’s outstretched hand. “Pleasure.”

Chloë’s grin faded. Adam guessed that false pleasantries were one of the two responses she’d been getting all term. He couldn’t decide which he’d hate more if he were in Chloë’s shoes—the falseness or the over the top fawning. Dr Banks’ interrupted his thoughts by opening her door.

“Come on in. Take a seat and let’s get started.”

There were three small chairs lined up in front of the large wooden desk piled high with books. Dr Banks sat in the high backed black leather chair behind the desk. Chloë sat in the chair on the right, Kim chose the one to the left, leaving Adam to take the middle seat.

“So how are you all settling in?”Dr Banks asked. “How’s the workload so far?”

After the introductions, the bulk of the tutorial was taken up by a discussion of Nineteen Eighty‐Four that Kim started with a question about Big Brother. Adam and Dr Banks did most of the talking. Chloë hardly said a word for the whole hour. They had two lectures straight after the tutorial but were free for the rest of the day.

“Are we on for lunch?” Kim asked Adam as they rose from their regular seats at the back of the hall after the second lecture.

“Sure. Mind if I ask Chloë?”

“Yes, I mind. I don’t want everyone in the canteen thinking I’m some sort of groupie.”

“We’ll eat back at my place then,” said Adam. He rushed down the steps to Chloë’s spot on the front row. “Chloë! Kim and I are having lunch at my place. There’s a plate of beans on toast with your name on it if you’d like.”

“Really?” Chloë beamed—her movie‐star smile on full show. “Do you have the baked beans with the little sausages in the tin?”

“No. But we could pop in the shop in The Union on the way back to mine, so I could get some.”

“And do I get a fried egg on top too?”

“You’re pushing your luck now, Missy. But I think I can stretch to a fried egg.”

“Excellent. Give me a sec to pack up and I’ll be with you.”

By the time Chloë was ready to go, Kim had reached the foot of the stairs. “Ready?” Adam asked.

“I’m going to have to give it a miss, Adam. I forgot that I’d agreed to meet my flatmates in the canteen.”

“Okay. We’re still going out tonight though, aren’t we?”

“I don’t know. The guys were talking about having a night in with a pizza and a DVD. I’ll let you know.”

She left the lecture hall without saying another word. Adam, Chloë and Dr Banks were the only people left. Dr Banks wished them a nice weekend and strode out of the room.

“I don’t think Kim likes me very much,” Chloë said as they left the building. It was a fresh autumnal day, but something in the air suggested the weather might turn.

“What makes you say that?”

“Did you see the way she looked at me this morning when you introduced us? If looks could kill I wouldn’t be standing here. And just now—when she cancelled on you—she totally blanked me. She didn’t even so much as glance at me.”

“Kim’s okay. She’ll come around once she gets to know you.”

“So she doesn’t like me?” Chloë’s smile was long gone and she looked close to tears again.

Adam put his hand on her shoulder. “She doesn’t know you. She only knows Movie‐Star Chloë, not Student Chloë. Once she gets to know you…”

“But that’s the problem, isn’t it?” She sighed. “People don’t want to take the time to get to know me.”

“I did.” He slipped his hand onto her back and gently rubbed the top of her spine—he wasn’t even aware that he was doing it. She shivered.

“Hmmm. That’s nice.” Her voice was quiet—barely a whisper.

Adam moved his hand. “Sorry.”

She turned to look into his eyes. “Don’t be.”

After they’d eaten, Adam offered to let Chloë take copies of his notes to make up for her pitiful efforts. They used the copier in the library and spent the rest of the afternoon in Adam’s booth talking about the books they had been studying. Neither of them noticed how quickly the time passed until one of the librarians came around for a final sweep before closing.

Chloë looked at her watch. “But it’s only half-past five.”

“I know, but they shut early on Fridays and Saturdays. I think they expect people to be going out and having a good time—which, let’s face it, most people are.”

“I won’t be. I haven’t been out since that horrible night I went to The Union.” Chloë looked glum.

“So what have you got planned?”

“Nothing much. I thought I might call for pizza delivery and then settle down to read Nineteen Eighty‐Four again. See if I could work out what you were arguing with Banksie about. I still can’t believe she conceded your point.”

“She didn’t. It was her point.”

Chloë frowned. “What d’you mean?”

“She was playing devil’s advocate and trying to force me to prove my position. She actually wrote a paper on it a few years ago. I looked it up online. I was paraphrasing her words most of the time.”

“Well, you both had me fooled.”

They left the library and stood at the foot of the marble steps before parting. Adam shuffled his feet— unsure of how to say goodbye and not wanting to wait the whole weekend before he saw her again. “Chloë?”

“Yeah?”

“Why don’t you come out with us tonight? Cassie, Eddie and I are meeting some people in The Mariner on the seafront and then going on to that nightclub on the pier.”

“I don’t know, Adam. You saw what it was like when I went to The Union. I couldn’t cope with that again.”

“Difference is that this time you’ll be with friends instead of on your own. I promise we won’t let anything like that happen. We’ll look after you.”

“Being looked after is nearly as bad.”

“You know I didn’t mean it that way.” Adam grinned. “Come on. It’ll be a laugh. I promise.”

“It’s one of these little ones?” Eddie asked as he, Cassie and Adam walked along Baker Street towards Chloë’s house.

“Well, she’s living alone,” said Cassie, “It’s not like she needs three or four bedrooms.”

“But what about when her famous mates come to stay? I expected her to be over in Silverwood. Have you seen the houses out there? Man, now there’s some serious cash.”

Adam shook his head. “You don’t get it, do you? The whole reason she’s come to university is to feel normal for a while. How many students do you know that live in Silverwood?”

“Yeah,” said Eddie, “But she ain’t normal, is she? She’s a movie‐star. If I had her kind of money—”

“But you don’t,” said Cassie. “So drop it. And you better behave tonight. Don’t go upsetting her. And certainly don’t refer to her as Not Normal. Or else.”

“Or else what?”

“Try me and find out. I’ve heard men don’t like being kneed in the balls.”

Adam stopped in front of one of the houses. “It’s this one. I think. It was dark last night.”

He put his hand on the gate, but by the time he’d opened it, Chloë had come out of the house. “I saw you coming,” she said. “Not that I was watching and waiting for you. Unless staring out the window every five minutes counts as watching and waiting.” She looked at each of the others in turn as they stared at her. “What? What is it?”

She looked down at herself. “It’s my outfit, isn’t it? It’s too flash.”

She wore a sparkly black knee‐length skirt and white blouse. “No,” said Adam. “You look… Fantastic.”

“Yeah,” said Cassie. “You look great. Not too flash at all.”

“But you’ve all got jeans on. Should I go and get changed and put some jeans on too?”

“No way,” said Eddie. “We haven’t got the time. The Mariner will be heaving when we get there as it is. If we wait any longer, we’ll not even get through the door.”

The air was chilly and the sky full of thick clouds, but Eddie insisted on walking into town because, by the time a taxi arrived, they could already be in the bar drinking their first pint. By the time they got to the seafront, it was drizzling with rain. Since none of them had an umbrella, they were grateful that the storm didn’t begin in earnest until they’d reached their destination. The Mariner was a popular pub among Westmouth’s students. It had a large, well-staffed bar and offered cheap, low quality beer.

“Ignore them,” Adam whispered to Chloë as someone pointed at her from a nearby table. They were standing in the entrance scanning the bar for either a free table or someone they knew. “Seeing you out on the town is still a novelty. It’ll wear off.”

“It better, or I’m going home.”

Cassie pointed to the far side of the room. “Kim and the guys over there!”

They fought their way through the crowd, Eddie leading, Chloë and Cassie in the middle and Adam bringing up the rear. Most people seemed too shocked to see the movie‐star in their low‐rent pub to do or say anything. They just stared. “I wish they’d give it a rest,” said Cassie. “It’s giving me the creeps.”

“How do you think I feel?” said Chloë, “I had it like this since the start of term.”

At Kim’s table, Cassie introduced Chloë to everyone and they were offered seats at the heart of the group.

“Don’t get up on my account. I’ll be fine here,” Chloë insisted.

Adam offered to get the first round of drinks and Kim accompanied him to the bar. “What’s she doing here?” she demanded.

“Same as everyone else. She wants to have a drink and a dance.”

“Does she have to do it with us?”

“She just wants to enjoy herself like the rest of us.”

“But she’s not like the rest of us.”

Adam sighed. “Oh, bloody hell, Kim. Give her a chance, will you? You might even find that you actually like her.”

“But I don’t want to like her.” Kim frowned. “Can’t you understand that? I mean, she has everything a girl could wish for. She’s beautiful, talented, glamorous and rich. She’s got everything I haven’t, and now she’s taking you away from me too.”

“Taking me…?” Adam shook his head. “She’s not taking me away from you. What do you mean?”

“Come off it, Adam. I’ve seen the way you look at her and I understand that.”

“How do I look at her?”

“The same way all the other guys do—like she’s Chloë. But what’s worse, I’ve seen the way she looks at you.”

“How does she look at me?”

“Like you’re the last chocolate chip cookie in the box. And she’s going to gobble you up and there’ll be nothing left for anyone else. Nothing left for me. All for a part in some stupid film that probably won’t even be any good.”

“You don’t still think this is all to do with method acting, do you?”

“It is to do with method acting. It has to be. Why else would she be here? Remember what I said at the start of term? She’ll be on the lookout for a boyfriend next. And I reckon she’s got her eye on you.”

Adam shook his head. “Kim, you’ve got it all wrong. Chloë and I are friends. That’s all. Just friends. And just because I’m friends with her doesn’t mean I can’t be friends with you. Does it? Give her a chance. Please.”

She looked away, her gaze falling on the table where Chloë sat with all the people Kim considered close friends. They were laughing at a story Eddie was telling. Chloë held Cassie’s hand tightly, as if for protection, but she looked relaxed and comfortable.

“Look at her,” Adam said over Kim’s shoulder. “She’s not muscling in on anyone. She just wants to make some friends. She just wants what we all want. To get through this course and have a good time doing it. She’s had a shitty time up to now because no one will give her a chance to show that she’s normal. That she’s just like everyone else.”

“But like I said, she’s not like everyone else, is she? She’s Chloë Goodman.” Kim turned to face him. “Okay. I’ll give her one chance. But that’s it. One chance.” She smiled. “I’ll do it for you.”

They returned to the table and handed out the drinks. Kim sat in the empty seat next to Chloë that Adam assumed had been meant for him. He sat in Kim’s old seat on the opposite side of the table instead and smiled at Chloë. She smiled back.

“So, Chloë—” Kim nudged the movie‐star with her elbow. “—did you have any idea what old smarty‐pants and Dr Banks were talking about this morning?”

“Not at the time,” she admitted. “I felt like a right old dunce.”

“Yeah, me too.” Kim laughed. “I reckon he must have cheated somehow. There’s no way he could have known all that.”

“Oh, he did,” Chloë giggled. “He told me this afternoon that he looked up one of her papers on the internet.”

Kim looked across the table and scowled at Adam. “Really?” She turned back to Chloë. “Well, you think he’d have told us beforehand so we didn’t look quite so stupid. I think we’ll have to get him back for that next time.”

Chloë looked at Adam as she answered. “Yes. We will.”

They stayed in The Mariner for a few hours before the Kim suggested they brave the storm and risk the short walk to Central Pier.

“Having fun?” Adam asked Chloë as they fought past the crowd to the exit.

She nodded. “Yeah. Thanks for suggesting I come.”

“No problem. I’m glad you came.”

They stood in the entrance porch and stared at the storm outside. Adam was shocked at how hard it was raining. Cassie grabbed Chloë’s hand and yelled, “Come on. Let’s make a run for it.”

That was a preview of Kissed by a Rose. To read the rest purchase the book.

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