"We just need some time for things to fall into place a bit more before we... reassess the situation."
"How much time?"
"We've got to just get through the European tour first and see how things pan out with Ashley-"
"What! What do you mean 'pan out with Ashley'? What's that got to-"
And just as her pitch shifted up a gear from its usual full-bodied monotone to something approaching a screech of incredulity, the PR machine swung back into action - chirping away about the World Cup schedule and X Factor and August meetings and Hollywood Records and had she spoken to Nadine? They were always being fobbed off by her new manager - whom nobody seemed to like- and the new album would be a huge consideration too, and the most likely date to take stock would be October because...
"October?" she blurted into their collective stream of consciousness. The room stared back coolly.
"This," she began, paused, pursed her lips in disbelief before pushing the hair from her face, "This... is utterly ridiculous. Are you saying that if me and Justin were to split up now... that, what? All of this would just... be ruined?"
"No," Hilary pronounced the word very slowly and deliberately. "We're not saying that, Kimberley. Nobody in this room is responsible for that decision.
"I would love it if you could just do as you wanted and not have to worry about any of this. And who knows, maybe one day you can. But right now, we have to think about the needs of the group as a whole, and protecting the band as individuals. And it's just too risky, Kimberley. You could split and the story could sink without trace. Or some hack over at News of the World could do some digging and who knows?"
She was ten seconds away from dismissing them all as cowards, fantasists, ten seconds away from walking out. But she had a long relationship with her manager and wasn't one for rash exits, even when staying put cut against her better judgement. I should just leave, she thought, Cheryl would leave. Cheryl's instinct for self-preservation was so much better than she realised.
And here came the part where the rock met the hard place. She was told that the label couldn't support her if she decided that now was the moment to cut loose...
"And here, as your manager, as your friend, Kimberley, I have to advise you to seriously consider what's best for the five of you right now. Is it really worth it? Can't you hang on just a little bit longer?"
They'd feed her to the sharks, she realised. If she went against the plans, did her own thing, broke up with her boyfriend and against their wishes, there'd be no red carpet PR treatment. No sympathetic press releases about an amicable split, no requests at respecting her privacy.
Furthermore, there'd be no effort made to explain anything - she'd be left to fend for herself. She'd never tried to take on the press herself. Her public-perception was good and altogether positive, but she'd had an entire team of people seeing to that. How long would it take for her to undo all their years of groundwork?
As Kimberley hovered, clearly torn by indecision, the killer blow was made.
There was only one publicist who could kneel beside her chair, squeeze her hand between both of his and implore her so succinctly and directly.
"Look babe," he began, "I don't care if you're fucking Justin, I don't care if you're fucking Cheryl, I don't care if you're fucking the Pope, yeah? What matters is what you're putting out there.
"You don't wanna be with him? Fine," he shrugged his shoulders and flicked an imaginary speck of dust from off his arm, "He's gone. You don't have to be with him. We'd never make you be with someone you don't want to be with. Okay?"
He gave her a reassuring smile, that row of sparkling white teeth almost irresistible when he turned on the charm.
But as his boyish grin faded, the resolution took hold in his eyes. "But Kimba, I need you to do this interview for me. I need both of you to do it. You can talk about whatever the hell you like. Babies, marriage, not yet, not ready, whatever. But together, yeah? Just a couple hours of your time... a few photos... Vanessa will be there, you know her, she's lovely, few pics, few smiles, then all over for another month. Yeah? You can do that for us can't you, babe?"
She sighed. Given her options, it didn't feel like much of a choice.
