Girl on the Run Read Online Free PDF

bus moved on, she risked a glance around. No one paid her any attention. She relaxed and turned back to the window.
    When people had first started noticing Ashby and his friends, it had been exciting. They would be doing something fairly normal when giggling schoolgirls would ask Ashby for his autograph. They would ask him what it was like being on TV. Ashby's brooding good looks and the dry wit of the drummer had made them local celebrities.
    After a few appearances on TV, they had been offered a recording contract and had acquired PR agents. Through carefully orchestrated exposure, the band had risen to fame. Their first album had been nominated for several awards.
    Jane, by virtue of being Ashby's girlfriend, found herself going to parties, chatting with minor celebrities and, usually, making sure her very drunk boyfriend got home safely at night.
    She had found glamour difficult. She had always worried about her make -up smudging, her hair not staying in place or her dress being tucked in her knickers. Sensible suited her much better.
    She looked down at her sensible work clothes. Her fingers tightened round her bag. What was it about her that made her more comfortable thinking about science and talking to scientists or lawyers rather than socialising with pop stars?
    Perhaps, she reflected, it was because she didn't really care about the problems of the famous. When they complained about the intrusion of the press, they were always secretly hoping they'd be quoted. She, on the other hand, found the intrusion genuinely unsettling. She had once thought anonymity was the curse of a mundane life. Now, she felt it was a blessing.
     
    The door of Polly's flat opened straight into an open plan living room. Polly had tried to divide the space up by placing the sofa with its back to the door. The TV was on so Polly was in. ‘Hello,’ Jane called as she turned to hang up her coat.
    There was a muffled curse and Polly's head appeared above the back of the sofa. ‘Hi. I didn't expect you home so soon.’ She sounded slightly breathless. Her hair had escaped from its ponytail and her face was flushed.
    Jane heard rustling and a few grunts and suddenly realised Polly was not alone on the couch. She felt her face heat. ‘I … er … I'll just be in my room for a few minutes.’ Grabbing her bag, she fled, careful not to look at the sofa.
    In the safety of her room, she sank down onto the bed. Feeling a terrible urge to listen to what Polly and Andy – at least, she assumed it was Andy – were saying, she dug her iPod out of her bag. Unsure about whether it was safe to go out, she changed into jeans and a jumper and sat on her bed.
    The bed was really a sofa bed and, open, it took up most of the room. Polly's nursing books were still stacked in a corner, further crowding the room. Jane lay down and thought about the flat she and Ashby had shared. They had moved in together straight after graduating from university. She had got a job working for a pharmaceutical firm as a trainee patent agent. Ashby had drifted from job to job until he and the band were selected to appear on a TV talent show. After that, he stopped pretending to look for work.
    They had been really lucky to find a pleasant one bedroom flat they could afford. At first they'd had very basic furniture and mismatched cutlery. Jane remembered the day she'd bought new curtains for the flat, her first purchase towards making the place a home.
    After Ashby's rise to fame, Jane had found the flat a huge source of comfort. It was home. Whatever act Ashby had to put on when they were outside, once they were home, he was the same haphazard, clever man she'd fallen for when she was eighteen. She loved the predictability of it all. The fact that she knew that while she was cooking dinner or cleaning the bathroom, he would be lying on his stomach on the living room floor jotting down song lyrics and tapping out rhythms with the end of his pen.
    The flat had been her sanctuary