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47 - Out of the Pan and Into the Fire

Oh God, this is my worst nightmare.

Or no; for not even in my most vivid imaginings could I ever have conjured up this scenario.

Perhaps I've died and gone to Hell – but that's not possible either, as Ben's here and he would be the friend of St Michael and of Gabriel, never of Lucifer - Khan notwithstanding.

So, if it's not a dream and I haven't died, then...it must actually be happening. Really, Lord? In the grand scheme of things it wasn't deemed sufficient to plague me with one emotional turmoil at a time? They absolutely must come riding in together like the four horsemen of the apocalypse? Two of them anyway – you know what I mean, Lord. A small sigh escaped me and I squeezed Ben's waist, looking to him only to find him gazing back at me. "Stay close," he murmured near my ear. Yeah, Cumbers, like I was going anywhere.

Ten paces ahead but closing rapidly, a large posse of camera lenses focussed on us, human bodies hiding behind them, voices barrelling over each other to create a cacophony of questions that hammered into my skull, flashes of brilliant light flickering in my vision.

And behind them, hanging back silently but no less demanding of my attention, stood my grandparents. So, they'd brought out the big guns then.

I nodded to Ben and held tight to his hand as we attempted to push our way through the throng that swarmed around us while they tossed questions our way like ill-mannered schoolchildren. Thankful I wasn't claustrophobic, it nonetheless felt as if I were standing in a forest surrounded by giant evergreens with the wind whistling loudly through the treetops. They were incessant, repetitive and demanding and it rapidly became almost overwhelming – until one particular question caught my attention and suddenly I felt my backbone straighten.

Well hello, pissy-streak Cara; welcome back.

Ben was surprised when I came to a halt; he opened his mouth as if to urge me forward but the expression on my face must have alerted him to my change in mood. "Cara..." he murmured, bending close so he could hear me over the ruckus.

"I won't let them make me run and hide, dammit."

We exchanged a searching look; I hoped he would feel as I did but had no intention of forcing the issue on him if he wasn't happy about it. After five seconds he gave me a nod and a small smile, squeezed my fingers then turned to the paps and held up his other hand to signal for silence. It took a while for them to let go of their barrage of questions and fall quiet but when eventually they did Ben indicated we would answer a few only.

How long had we been dating? For some months, he told them. We'd been seen coming out of a jewellers together yesterday – was there an engagement in the offing? Well, that answered my question on how we'd been 'outed' as I recalled I'd been too upset leaving my grandparents' place to think of our usual privacy arrangements; obviously some enterprising fan had snapped Ben and alerted the media. Ah well, spilt milk. No, we are not engaged, he assured them; I added a smile and shake of my head and we studiously ignored any other questions along those lines. Then the snarky voice that had caused me to stop in my tracks repeated its question: was this all a publicity stunt to sell my album? I felt Ben bristling beside me as my own temper rose like magma to the surface of a volcano, and was as difficult to keep under control. I did manage to keep a lid on it though, I'm pretty proud of myself for that.

"We had already been seeing each other for some months before Cara was offered the opportunity of making the album," Ben replied firmly with a dark look towards the pap who'd asked. "And if you listen to the radio at all and have heard her sing, you would know that she's incredibly talented and has no need whatsoever of my small slice of celebrity to be a success; if anything, I'm probably more of a hindrance." Oh Cumbers, you are such a sweetheart.