Instead of feeling concern over having to face Curtis, and live with Alice who has never been a fan of Laura’s, she feels relief rush through her body that they’re taking her somewhere. Another bridge, she’s not stranded on her lonely island yet. Another home, another place for her to hide, another bridge for her to walk across while she heads into the absolute unknown. There’s no going back now, none at all. Physically, she couldn’t even get there.

The contestants’ house is outside of Dublin in the Wicklow Mountains and she’s happy to be surrounded by nature, by trees and mountains and space. She can barely enjoy the view, though, as she keeps looking at the photographs in the newspapers, at the stranger wearing her clothes. But at least looking at the trees helps her to breathe again.

When they reach the gates, photographers are outside and she faces more cameras banging against the window, which brings her back to last night. She hears herself making the sounds. Michael studies her in the mirror as they wait for the gates to open.

‘We’re nearly there,’ he says gently.

The house is visible from the gates, which don’t provide much privacy. All the curtains are open and Laura sees someone standing at the window, watching, before quickly moving away. She makes a note not to stand at a window.

She can’t look at Simon, the production staff member that greets her. He’ll be living with the contestants to tend to their every need. She wants to apologise to Michael, Bianca and Simon for bringing all this attention to the show, but she’s too embarrassed to meet their eyes. She keeps Bianca’s glasses on, she likes how much they shield her. She keeps her eyes down as they watch her walking up the stairs, Mickey helping her with her bags. Bianca tries to help her to settle in, and tells her that Curtis will visit tomorrow. Despite her lightness of tone, it sounds like a warning.

Laura turns the lights off, she closes the curtains, thankful her windows are looking out the back, to a view of the trees. A swing and a slide in the garden. She has a shower, feels clean at last, then climbs into bed, still sick from the alcohol, and mortified. She’s hungry but doesn’t want to go downstairs to see anybody. She lies in her new bed, curled in a ball, under the duvet, hiding. She sleeps.

31

‘From anonymous mountain girl to internet superstar, it seems the pressure of her newfound fame is finally getting to StarrQuest favourite Lyrebird, as Laura Button’s spokesperson confirms reports that she was involved in an incident in the toilet of a Dublin nightclub last night. Photographs in today’s papers show her being carried out by nightclub security, who intervened in the incident, and who she then attacked by throwing a glass of water at him.’

The report jumps to video footage of Laura.

‘Her audition made her famous around the world in a matter of weeks, but according to reports she was found wandering the streets of Dublin extremely distressed, and was taken to a police station for her own safety. She is now back in the custody of the show’s producers and is staying at a StarrQuest private home for the finalist contestants.

‘StarrQuest producers jumped to Lyrebird’s defence today, releasing a lengthy statement calling for the nastiness to stop. Jack Starr has described Lyrebird as a gentle, kind, young woman who’s had a challenging life. Laura was abandoned at a cottage by her grandmother at the age of sixteen after her mother died and she lived there for ten years, unknown to anyone apart from her father, who kept her existence a secret. Starr says Laura is finding it difficult to cope, and has been overwhelmed since her first audition. He says becoming the biggest star on the planet so fast is scary and unsettling, as Laura has discovered.

‘Lyrebird has had more than fifteen minutes of fame and stands to make millions from book deals, endorsements and appearances. But fame comes at a price and it seems Laura Button’s beginning to pay for it.’

Solomon stands up and throws the remote control against the wall over the fireplace. It crashes against the brickwork. The back falls off and the batteries scatter to the floor. Bo ducks and huddles even tighter in the corner of the couch. He looks at her, but neither of them say anything, he doesn’t need to; Bo looks as guilty as he feels.

‘We have to do something,’ Solomon says, feeling and hearing the emotion in his voice. He can barely take this, sitting back and watching Laura being picked apart.

‘I’m trying, Solomon,’ Bo says, tears in her eyes.

‘I’ve had enough of trying to talk to her through StarrQuest,’ he paces the lounge, angrily. ‘We have to get to her ourselves. Where is the contestants’ house the news mentioned?’

‘I have no idea,’ Bo says, lost in thought, then she sits up with an idea. ‘But the fansites will know.’

‘I’m a friend of Laura Button’s, I’m here to see her,’ Solomon says to the security guard on the gates outside the contestants’ house.

The guard laughs and approaches him with a clipboard. ‘You and all the others.’

Solomon looks around. A dozen photographers and a camera crew watch him, at first with interest and then with amusement when his wish to pass is denied. Behind a rail are a handful of hardcore fans, sleeping bags lining the grass, a home-made banner that says We

Lyrebird.

‘Leave her alone,’ one girl shouts across to him.

Anger rises in Solomon.

‘If you could tell her that I’m here, then she’ll tell you to let me in.’

Security looks him up and down. ‘Why don’t you go ahead and give her a call first? Tell her to call me and ask me to let you in.’

Solomon grinds his teeth. ‘I can’t call her. That’s why I’m here.’

‘Yeah. Well, I can’t let you in. Your name needs to be on the list and you’re not on the list, so I can’t let you in.’

Solomon turns off the engine and gets out of the car.

‘Sir, I’d advise you to stay in the car. There’s no need to get out of your car.’

He’s standing so close to the car door, Solomon can’t open it. He pushes it a little harder. It hits the guard and he takes a backward step.

‘Hey, what are you doing? I said get back in the car!’