Free The One You Trust by Paul Pilkington Page A

hurt. He pulled out his mobile. There was only one person who could help him at this moment.
    It rang and rang. ‘Come on, come on.’
    At last they picked up.
    ‘Hi, it’s me . . . thank God, I thought you weren’t going to answer . . . No, I’m not okay. I’ve just done something really, really stupid.’

Part Two

Chapter 12
    Some years earlier
    ‘Excuse me, can I have your autograph?
    ‘Sure,’ she said. ‘No problem.’
    ‘Thank you so much,’ he gushed, as he handed Emma the pad and pen. He was so excited to be this close to her, within touching distance. He had waited outside the gates for two hours to get the chance to meet her. An hour ago, a heavy rain shower had drenched him, but he hadn’t wanted to run for shelter in case he missed her. And now it had all been worth it. The wonderful Emma Holden was talking to him! ‘I’m so grateful to you for doing this. I thought you might be too busy – I know you’re busy – but it’s great that you can take time for me.’
    ‘It’s no problem, honestly,’ Emma replied, holding the pen ready to write.
    The biro was about half its normal size; the plastic at the end was cracked and splintered. He hoped that she wouldn’t mind the sticky tape that was wrapped around the top – he had a habit of biting pens, especially the plastic ones. Sometimes they would crack, leaving him to fish the plastic splinters out of his mouth. The teachers at school used to chastise him for it, but he didn’t see the harm. It helped him when he felt upset; like when he had been bullied by his classmates.
    ‘I’m your number one fan,’ he said. ‘I didn’t watch the programme that much, but since you’ve been in it, I haven’t missed an episode. If I’m out when it’s on I record it. Sometimes I record it anyway, so I can watch it back as much as I want.’ He watched her, waiting for Emma to write a message.
    ‘What would you like me to—?’
    ‘I think you’re a fantastic actress.’
    ‘Thanks.’
    She was looking at the pad, so he ducked down to see her face. Maybe she was shy, like him. He loved shy girls the best. He hated those girls who knew how beautiful and talented they were, and expected everyone to love them. There were plenty of girls like that – girls at his school, and girls on the TV show – but Emma was different. ‘I’m your number one fan,’ he said again. He wanted her to understand that these weren’t empty words. He meant them more than anything. He moved forward slightly, unable to resist getting just that bit closer to her. ‘I know everything about you.’
    ‘I hope not.’ Did she sound a bit strange when she said that?
    ‘Your favourite meal is lasagne, your favourite film of all time is Dirty Dancing . You’re a black belt in karate. You started training at your school when you were eleven, because a girl started bullying you in your art class. It only took you five years for you to get your black belt. This year you’re fighting in the British Championships in Birmingham, but you’re finding it difficult to fit in the training now you’re working on the show. You’ve always wanted to be an actress, and you’d love to work on a film, but you don’t think you’re ready yet.’
    He could see that Emma was impressed. ‘How do you know all this?’
    ‘I read it,’ he said. ‘I always look for articles about you in the magazines. I never buy the magazines though – I read them in the newsagents. They let you go there and read magazines for as long as you like – you can stand there all day and it’s all free. I like going there, especially when there are articles about you.’
    ‘Oh, the magazine article. You read the interview in Celebrity Goss .’
    He nodded and smiled. ‘I like reading articles about you.’ He visited the shop regularly, to scour all the magazines for articles about his favourite celebrities. He knew the days that each new edition came in stock – he had all the dates written in his