Cecelia Ahern - Lyrebird

‘Now, that’s a conversation,’ she says, standing up. ‘You should go, you’ll be late for work.’

On the balcony, Laura exhales slowly, overhearing the tail end of their conversation.

The bird in the cage on the balcony next to her chirps noisily, rattling around his cage, leaping from a swing to the floor, pecking at his food, pecking at the bars. A little boy sits on the balcony beside it, crashing red cars into each other, making sound effects of the cars and the crashes. Laura mimics his childish sounds.

The past two mornings she has enjoyed sitting on this balcony and thinking. At least she has all the noise with fresh air. It makes it easier to handle, it seems to blow the headache away.

Bo joins her on the balcony. Laura gives her a quick glance. Everything about Bo is precise, neat, tidy, perfect. Not a wrinkle or crinkle on her clothes, her skin is smooth and flawless, her eyes a chocolate brown, her olive skin blemish-free. Her short chestnut hair is always tied up in a high ponytail, though there’s barely enough hair to form it, two front pieces of hair fall down and are tucked behind her ears. Her hair is always glossy. When she smiles and forms certain words, two deep dimples appear in her cheeks. She wears tightly cropped jeans and loafers, a polo T-shirt with the neck pulled up. The fabrics look expensive, everything is well made. A pearl necklace sits on her collarbone. She looks like she should be in a photoshoot for a yachting magazine. She never seems to fumble, be flustered or out of control. She always seems to Laura to know exactly where she’s going. She feels to Laura to be the exact opposite of her.

‘Making friends out here?’ Bo asks.

Laura looks at her, feeling confused. She’s been on the balcony alone.

‘The… never mind.’ Bo’s smile fades and she concentrates on the laptop she has placed on the table. ‘I brought this to show you StarrQuest . It’s important that you go in there fully aware of what’s going on – I don’t want you to do it if you’re not comfortable with any aspect of it.’

Butterflies battle in her belly at the mention. The audition is this afternoon.

‘That’s Jack,’ Bo says, pointing to the screen, and the soft way that Bo says his name makes Laura glance up at her quickly.

‘What?’ Bo’s cheeks pink.

‘Nothing,’ Laura says gently.

‘I’ll, um, get you some more green tea,’ Bo says, and hurries inside.

Laura concentrates on the screen. Bo has lined up a list of YouTube viewings for her. StarrQuest contestants have two minutes to showcase their talent. Incredible acrobats, singers, musicians, magicians, all kinds of talents she never knew existed.

Bo returns and places the mug of tea in front of her. It has practically been filled to the brim with boiling water, water drips from the side. Bo obviously isn’t a regular tea-maker. Laura questions why she’s seeking out her flaws, but she’s never met someone so seemingly perfect before, so self-assured.

‘What do you think?’ she asks.

‘The talent is incredible,’ Laura says. ‘I’d feel out of place joining their ranks.’

‘Laura, you’re more unique than all of them put together,’ Bo says. ‘And Jack Starr, the show’s judge, has asked to see you himself.’

‘And you trust him,’ Laura says. It’s not a question, she has heard how Bo has spoken his name. With warmth. Trust. Love.

Bo freezes a little. ‘Do I… yeah, I mean, he’s… he’s a talent spotter. He’s a musician too. He’s very talented himself, more than people know. He plays the guitar, the piano, the harmonica. He’s known for a handful of hit songs, but there’s a lot more to him. He has so many songs that people have never heard. Better songs. He has a lot of experience and recognises talent in others, and he’s looking for something truly unique.’

Twice Bo said ‘unique’; is Laura being entered because she’s unique or talented? She’s afraid to ask. She’s not sure she wants to hear the answer. She clicks on another link to a video. The show changes people’s lives, the deep-voiced male narrator announces dramatically. Does Laura want her life to change? Laura’s life has already changed, she can’t stop it. She’s trying to keep up.

‘What do you think I should do?’ Laura asks.

Bo doesn’t even take a second to think about it. ‘Do it. Ultimately, it comes down to this: we can do the documentary without you taking part in StarrQuest , of course – this is not a documentary about a talent show – but I think you gaining a profile would not only add to the content of the documentary it would also help the documentary. You don’t need to worry about things like that, but for me as the producer it makes it easier to sell. A successful documentary would give you more options, more directions where you can go with your life. That in itself is a gift. Opportunity, options. Which is what I know you’re searching for right now.’

Laura nods. Bo seems to know her so well. She says all the right things at these moments when she’s confused.

‘Do it,’ Bo says perkily, with a grin, and her energy is infectious. ‘Go on an adventure. What have you got to lose?’

‘Nothing.’ Laura throws her hands up and smiles.

Solomon and Rachel arrive at the Slaughter House, the venue for StarrQuest ’s live auditions, at noon.

‘Lambs to the slaughter,’ Rachel says, viewing it distastefully.

The venue is famous for hosting gigs with big-name acts; small and intimate, it previously served as a slaughterhouse and was renovated as a live venue. The audition process is different to most talent shows: there are no queues of auditionees snaking around railings for hours on end, instead everybody has already faced a panel of judges and has been selected for the live auditions. It’s a selection process driven by entertainment requirements as much as seeking out raw talent. The format of StarrQuest is that during the live, one-hour show, ten contestants are given two minutes to perform. Jack Starr sits on a throne, the audience sits around the stage like it’s a gladiator arena. After each two-minute performance, Jack hits a button to reveal either an enormous gold thumb up or a thumb down for ‘execution’. The format was devised by Jack Starr and his production company, StarrGaze – a throwback to his band days, when he was lead singer of the Starr Gazers. Last year, after a lengthy court battle, he won the right to resume using StarrGaze as the title of his production company, record company and talent agency, after an unhappy ex-band member raised his dishevelled head to fight him on it.

The StarrQuest franchise has been bought by twelve other countries around the world and is fronted by various presenters with Starr-like qualities and similar histories in entertainment. But the elusive US market still hasn’t bitten, and it’s a target he’s chasing more vigorously now that American Idol has ended its run. As Ireland has become his second home, and the only English-speaking territory that has bought the format, he chooses to appear as a judge on the Irish show. Winners are signed up to his record label and entertainment agency, StarrGaze. It is his moment to shine before the next talent show music don comes along, and he’s enjoying the revival of success almost twenty years after his debut album won Grammys and led him to tour all around the world. He’s making money again, due to the show and the re-release of his debut album. He’s enjoyed the return to playing live gigs, his first love, and tries to include as much of his new material as possible to an audience that has only come to hear their favourite hits. His wish is for his new material to chart; it’s far better than anything he produced in his alcohol-and-drug-fuelled twenties, but his popularity on the show has not spilled into his music career. Since StarrQuest aired, he’s released one song that failed to reach the top forty.