To the Moon and Back - By Jill Mansell Page 0,126

‘We’ve done it. Have we? I think we’ve done it.’ She sank down on to a conker-brown leather sofa and buried her face in her hands.

All around her, people continued to celebrate. Within thirty seconds Roo was fast asleep.

By eleven o’clock the video had been completed. It hadn’t taken long at all. Quite simply, someone was dispatched to the local Chinese takeaway for a pile of brown paper bags. A camcorder then recorded the process of the track being laid down while everyone wore bags over their heads with just eye holes cut in them to avert unfortunate accidents. Ceecee and the backing singers wore them too. Every last member of the team would be anonymous.

By midnight the video had been edited together and posted on YouTube. Next, the whispering campaign began. Everyone posted links on websites, Twitter, Myspace and Facebook, dropping hints as to who might be involved: Bono, Jay-Z, Elton John, Beyoncé… Next, they called in favors from journalists, TV people, other music contacts, anyone they could possibly think of. Each person contacted was asked to listen to the song just once, then spread the word that it was a) for charity and b) the track of the year.

By one o’clock the word was already spreading like wildfire, the YouTube clip had been viewed almost half a million times, and speculation as to who could be behind it was rife. Goatee man had to contact Bono, Jay-Z, Elton, and Beyoncé and ask them to remain enigmatic, neither confirming nor denying involvement in order to promote the cause.

Ceecee took her soundly sleeping daughter home at one thirty. Yasmin had left before midnight with Ben. At two o’clock Ellie put a hand on Roo’s shoulder and gently shook her awake.

‘Hey, there’s a taxi outside if you want to come home. Or Denny says you can stay here if you like.’

Roo blinked up at her, momentarily confused. Then she swung her legs off the sofa and hauled herself upright. ‘No, it’s OK, I’ll come back with you.’ She rubbed her eyes and peered at her watch. ‘I’m working in the shop tomorrow morning. Mustn’t be late.’

Chapter 51

Had it only been ten days? Roo was incredulous; was it actually possible that it could all have happened so fast? Eleven days ago the song hadn’t existed, not even in her own head, yet now it was known to millions, maybe even billions of people all over the world. Talk about surreal.

Roo was in the green room waiting to be called out on set. Live TV was always scary. Well, it hadn’t been years ago because she’d generally been off her head and it had all been a laugh, but doing it sober now was in another league altogether. How could you ever be completely sure what might come out of your mouth next?

Logically you knew it wouldn’t happen, but there was always that deep-down niggling fear that you might gaze into the camera and start shouting, ‘Fuck, fuck, bastard-bollocks-fuck!’

‘Everything OK?’ One of the friendly runners came up to her. ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t like a glass of wine?’

‘No thanks.’ This was an enormous lie, obviously; she’d love a glass of wine. She just wasn’t going to have one. Especially since she’d already broken one vow; trying to explain earlier to the bewildered makeup girl that she didn’t wear makeup had been a waste of breath.

‘Oh no, you have to let me do your face! This is TV!’ The girl had stood firm. ‘You don’t want to look like something that’s just been dug up, do you? We can’t let you do that—you’d scare the viewers!’

Vanity had vied with exhaustion. Aware that she was promoting a worthy cause and should be making a good impression, Roo had caved in. Just this once wouldn’t hurt, would it?

And now that her heinous crime had been committed, it was nice, she was able to admit, to feel pretty again.

The door opened and Ceecee, with no such qualms, came back from the makeup department. In her crimson velvet dress and glossy lipstick to match, she was looking glorious. Batting her shimmering gold eyelids and extravagant false eyelashes at Roo, she did a show-off twirl and said, ‘Look at us. For a couple of old rejects, I think we’ve scrubbed up pretty good.’

‘Well, I have,’ said Roo. ‘You’re still looking a bit ropey, if you ask me.’

‘Girl, will you look at these eyelashes? I’m smoking hot and you know it!’ Blissfully happy in her second marriage, Ceecee shimmied

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