So I Married a Rockstar

Chapter Twelve

Ch.12: Fangirl

Don drove us to Brentford. Mrs Shields still wasn't responding to texts or calls, so we'd have to knock on her door and hope for the best. And I'd really have to hope we didn't run into Jake or Kelly.

Just like yesterday, Don pulled up outside the block of flats, and Jude and I headed inside. Jude took the stairs at an easy jog, and to anyone else he probably looked as laidback as ever, but I could see the tension in the set of his jaw and the slight clench of his fists.

Was that because he knew the risks of running into fans while we were here, or because he was mad at Jake?

When we reached the seventh floor, I knocked on Mrs Shields' door, bracing myself for the fact that she might not be in, and I'd have to come back again. Then I heard the shuffle of feet from inside, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

The door opened.

Mrs Shields blinked at me, her tortoiseshell-framed glasses balanced on the end of her nose, her floral dress at odds with her fuzzy slippers.

"Camden!" she exclaimed. "How lovely to see you."

I hugged her, breathing in the familiar smell of her perfume.

"Come in." Mrs Shields beckoned us into the flat.

"Do we have time?" I asked Jude. I didn't know when he'd told the rest of the band to arrive at the studio.

"We have as much time as we need," he said.

Which wasn't really an answer.

Mrs Shields squinted up at him. "You look terribly familiar, young man." She adjusted her glasses, squinted some more, then her eyes bulged. "Oh my goodness, you're Jude Scott. What are you doing here?"

Hastily I pulled Jude into the flat and shut the door. It hadn't even occurred to me that Mrs Shields would know who Jude was.

"Camden Harris, you're friends with Jude Scott and you never told me?" Mrs Shields gave me a severe look.

"It's a fairly new friendship," Jude said smoothly, when it was clear that I had no idea what to say.

Mrs Shields' eyes sharpened. "Just friends?"

My gaze slid to Jude, and I thought my expression was neutral, but apparently not because Mrs Shields cackled with laughter.

"That's what I thought," she said.

Jude gave me an amused look.

"Sorry," I mouthed.

"Sit down, sit down." Mrs Shields flapped her hands in the direction of the sofa wedged against the wall. I sat down, while Jude folded himself into the armchair opposite. "I'll make you kids some coffee," Mrs Shields said, heading into the kitchen. "Camden, do you still take two sugars?"

"Yes, thanks."

"Jude?"

"One sugar," he replied.

A couple of minutes later, Mrs Shields bustled back into the living room, carrying three mugs of coffee on a tray. Her slippers made little shushing noises on the carpet.

"Camden, the cat mug is yours," she said.

Jude handed it to me.

"The mug with the ducks is for you," Mrs Shields told him.

"Thanks," Jude said, taking it.

He settled back into the armchair, and it struck me how absurd he looked in here. His tall, tattooed frame, crammed into the faded rose-print chair, was completely out of place in the little flat, where polished ceramic ornaments sat on a wooden sideboard, and lace curtains fluttered in the breeze coming through the open window.