Not Dead Yet

the corridor and a woman, wearing a baseball cap, dark glasses, a crimson jogging suit and fancy trainers, emerged.
    It was her!
    ‘Gaia!’ she called out, and began stumbling towards her. ‘Gaia, it’s Anna!’
    Moments later both her arms were seized, gently but firmly, and her idol was engulfed by a platoon of bodyguards also in jogging suits and baseball caps, who swarmed out of the door.
    ‘Let me go!’ Anna shrieked at the two hulks restraining her.
    The lift pinged and she saw the entourage enter.
    Anna wriggled furiously. One of her shoes came off. ‘You have no right to do this. Let me go!’ she yelled.
    The lift doors closed, and then they released her. Anna’s brain was racing. There must be an exit! Doors! Fire doors! Staircase! She saw it down to her right. A green FIRE EXIT sign. She knelt and grabbed her shoe, but without wasting time putting it back on, she broke into a hobbling run, holding the shoe in one hand, along the corridor, through the fire exit door and down the concrete stairs. LOBBY LEVEL , she read, in small letters, and pushed open the door. She was in an unfamiliar part of the ground floor, with a sweeping staircase right behind her leading up to what looked like a conference level. Where was the lift she’d gone up in?
    Then she saw the entourage stepping out across the hall. The cluster of jogging bodyguards, and in their midst she caught a glimpse of Gaia. She ran forward, still holding her shoe, calling out, ‘Gaia! Gaia! It’s Anna! Wait!’
    She dodged past a small group of Japanese men, each towing a wheeled suitcase, and caught up with the entourage yards from the revolving door. ‘Gaia! It’s me, Anna!’ she called out again, racing to reach the door ahead of them, but two of the guards elbowed her aside.
    ‘Hey!’ she said indignantly, and pushed back, almost getting past them, and suddenly Gaia was right in front of her! Her face inches from her own. So close she could smell Gaia’s perfume, and was a little surprised it was not her idol’s own brand. ‘Gaia! It’s Anna! Hi—’
    For a fleeting instant, Gaia raised her sunglasses, gave her a hard, blank, icy stare, then turned away and was gone, through the revolving door.
    ‘Secret fox!’ Anna called out desperately. ‘Gaia, it’s me, Anna! Anna! Secret fox!’ She lunged towards the door, but two of the tracksuited guards grabbed her arms, holding her back.
    ‘Let go of me!’ she yelled.
    They continued holding her, so hard they were hurting her arms. She dropped her shoe. She wriggled like a wildcat, broke free, lost her balance and fell backwards to the floor, right on top of her fallen shoe which dug painfully into the small of her back.
    She looked up, dazed and confused for an instant, and saw the five fellow Gaia collectors all looking at her. Ricky – Gaia Slave – came over to help her, but a hotel porter reached her first, knelt and asked if she was all right, then gently held her arm as she got back to her feet. Everything was spinning inside her head. Somehow she got her shoe back on. She saw the five collectors staring at her.
    ‘We thought you were her number one fan, Anna!’ Kira, the girl with the purple streaked hair, said mockingly.
    All five of them laughed.
    Anna walked out through the revolving doors and stood on the pavement. She was breathing in short, hard, angry bursts. The paparazzi, she could see, were running across the road, chasing after the pack of joggers that was heading away along the promenade.
    ‘Can I get you a taxi, madam?’ the doorman asked.
    ‘I don’t want a fucking taxi,’ she said, smarting with humiliation and shaking with rage, struggling to open the clasp of her handbag. Then she rummaged inside it and pulled out her mobile phone. ‘I’ve been assaulted, I want the police.’

58
    For the first time since Ari had thrown him out, Glenn Branson was in a sunny mood. He left MIR-1 feeling like a man on a mission. He would surprise Bella, he thought. Cheer her up. He knew that visiting hours at the hospital would be over shortly.
    He drove to his local Tesco Express, bought a bunch of sweet-smelling flowers and a box of Maltesers. Then he stopped by an off-licence he favoured, Mullholland’s Wines on Church Road, and selected a bottle of chilled Sauvignon Blanc from the cooler, which he remembered her telling him in Cardiff that she liked.
    He drove down to his lodgings in Roy Grace’s house off Church Road, had a quick shower, brushed his