The Afterparty
Page 24
‘Mmm,’ Hugo said, in the fair spirit of experiment, to imagine that Renée was right. And indeed her way of seeing things did not seem obviously wrong. ‘After all,’ he added, on reflection. ‘I think maybe Mike was trying to creep up on him. It could be Calvin was startled, and that’s why he fell.’
‘Creep up on him?’
She had wandered towards the larger curtains on the street side of the room. She tugged at one edge to release a splinter of light, and peered through it absent-mindedly.
‘I think it was a joke or something.’
‘A joke? The guy’s on the edge of a fucking roof!’
‘I know. I tried to stop him.’
It was Renée who paused to think this time. Leaning with her left hand on the sill, she ran her right across the tightened surface of her hair, as a bald man after shaving might caress his scalp.
‘I don’t like this at all, Hugo,’ she said eventually. ‘Seriously. We know nothing about this guy. He wasn’t invited to the party …’
‘I know. He used Camille McLeish’s card.’
Renée raised both palms towards the ceiling as if now everything had been explained.
‘Exactly!’ she said. ‘He’s a fucking journalist! And he snuck in.’
‘He’s a subeditor.’
‘Whatever, Hugo. He’s press. The point is: can you trust him? He’s snuck into your party, fucking clung to you all night, and now look at the mess he’s made!’
‘I don’t think Mike meant any harm,’ Hugo said, in a little voice. He felt he had to.
‘No, sure. It’s not like he had a grudge or anything, but he played a pretty stupid joke, and now he’s in trouble and he needs to cover his ass. I think we should consider telling the cops about it before you get in trouble too.’
Neither of them spoke. Hugo found that he was buttoning and unbuttoning the entrance to the duvet cover that Mrs O’Sullivan (quite unlike her, really) had placed at the head end.
‘Look, just think about it. Ah!’ Renée was gazing through the curtains once again. ‘I think that’s Hamish’s car.’
She started to leave, but there was something else.
‘One more thing …’ Hugo said.
She had reached the door.
‘Yes?’ Knock, knock, went her feet, on the old oak floor.
Awkward.
‘Well …’
Embarrassing.
‘… I think maybe Mellody might have been with Calvin tonight. They were in the bathroom together a long time. I was quite upset, actually.’
Renée took this in.
‘Mike was really good to me at the time, and he was very protective. I think it made him angry that they had come back to the house.’
The room waited.
‘OK.’ Renee fortified her calmness with a dose of effort. ‘You realise this means that both you and Mike had a motive to hurt Calvin?’
Hugo nodded and was about to speak, but a rising hand blocked his protests off.
‘I know you didn’t go near him,’ Renée said, ‘but that is how the police will see it. Have you told them this yet?’
‘No. But Jesus, Renée, why bring it up?’
‘Because it is going to come up.’
‘How?’
‘If he dies there will be an autopsy, Hugo. There might be … residues.’ She was back at the window, peering through. ‘Look, if it’s true, then people are going to find out. Mellody might tell them. We’ve got to accept that and manage it. And if we tell the police straight away then we’ll have a better chance of keeping it back until after Sinbad opens. If it’s true.’
‘It’s true, Renée. OK? You know what Mell’s like.’
And now his voice was starting to crack. His frantic fingers let the duvet go.
‘It’s OK, Hugo,’ Renée said. ‘It’s OK. When the police talk to Mellody we just have to make sure she tells them everything. Her friends can say what they like. We’re used to rumours.’
‘I don’t know … I mean …’ His thoughts dived wildly around their cage, checking and re-checking every corner for a hatch. He just wanted this to end.
‘We’ll try the best we can.’ She sounded impatient, though clearly she was hoping to console him.
‘But …’
‘Listen … fuck!’ Her face stared through the window, gripped rigid.
‘What?’ Hugo said.
‘Fucking shit! … Fuck!’
‘What?’
‘She’s fucking leaving!’ Renée flung herself towards the door. ‘Mellody’s getting into that car!’
And stumbling through his sheets. And ripping duvet round his chest. And staggering out of bed towards the window frame to see if it was true despite the boiling swell of noise that told him surely that it was. There, his wife from above. Emerging from the shade of their magnolia tree into a blazing slab of sun. Saying nothing, though buffeted by shouts and flashes and the mics that jutted at her on the supplicating ends of arms. A black van in the centre of the road. Two big men, tearing out a path. His quiet wife, stepping unhurriedly inside. Turning to present a solemn smile for the record. So beautiful and gracious. Almost royal.
For what reason had this woman ever married him?
The van reversed away, at speed. And for a while, Hugo watched its wake.
He thought about things.
Then he returned to their bed.
‘Flying time to Seoul today is approximately ninety minutes ago from the fourth floor,’ said the posh pilot, ‘I’ll be back to you once we’re in the air. In the meantime, just sit back, relax and please listen carefully to the cabin crew as they take you through to theatre straight away.’
It was the kind of voice that Calvin liked to hear.
The doors were levered closed, cutting out the engines. He bathed pleasantly in the hiss of severed noise.
‘How long did he say it would be, Cal? Eleven hours? I don’t know I’ve ever done eleven hours before!’
Mum was a nervous flyer. She liked to keep talking.
‘Florida was eight.’ She laughed, unconvincingly. ‘And that was the furthest I’ve been.’
The air conditioners were working hard. Adding more air or taking it away? Calvin knew it was one of the two.
Mum said, ‘How far’s Turkey? That was a long one.’
The engines flared, and faded, heaving the plane forward into a dozy lumber. Sunlight flooded the cabin, bright as pain. The wingtips flexed and waddled on their frame.
‘It was an acute subdural haemorrhage. Remember?’
No, actually. Calvin did not remember.
In fact it was strange, now he thought about it, that his mum was coming with him at all. Would she be there at every gig? He was a little embarrassed, if that was allowed. But perhaps they saw things differently in the East.
Ping, ping, went the intercom. Ping, ping.
‘They gave us all a blanket,’ Mum said.
Taking air away. Definitely. Already he could feel a drunken lightness. And he had a headache.
‘Cabin crew, I need him prepped up fast. OK? Fast.’
He was full of energy, the captain, but in control.
The plane wheeled on to the runway and stopped.
To the East. Time to go.
Waiting. Mum’s hand on his.
Waiting. Time to go.
Time to go.
And then the thrust was in his back.
Time to go.
The heavy roar.
The ground became a stripe of speed.
Time to go.
To the East, where he was loved.
* * *
From: valerie.morrell@nortonmorrell.co.uk
To: williammendez75@gmail.com
Subject: Re: Leo
Date: Thursday, 14 January 2010 09:12:40
Hi William – yes, happy to raise all that with Leo. They sound like great plans. Really good way to generate buzz around the book.
Vx
* * *
From: leobenedi
ctus@yahoo.co.uk
To: williammendez75@gmail.com
Subject: Re: Hello
Date: Thursday, 14 January 2010 11:02:38
Ah, agents… Authors may be driven to their art because they crave attention – indeed I’m sure they often are – but only the sincerest book-lover would work in publishing to get rich. (Which probably explains why they have all been sensible enough to refuse my novel…)
Anyway, love the new chapter, which I read first thing this morning. Val and I will be meeting both Cape and Bloomsbury on Monday – I only hope I can convince them that I wrote it! Obviously the connection with the Green/O’Nolan case is there to see, especially now that Hugo and Michael are beginning to fall out. But to me, their characters, and this situation, are clearly archetypes. That’s the point, isn’t it? Michael is the nerdy ingénu (a classic comic hero in the Portnoy/Woody Allen mould); Hugo is the prince in thrall to his advisors (Tolkien, Macbeth, passim…). They get on, then they fall out. Just because the crisis concerns a young man and a roof terrace does not mean everything must therefore be ‘based on a true story’. And I don’t think that most readers, while acknowledging the echoes, will see it that way either. Keep it up, I say, and damn the lawyers!
Leo
* * *
From:williammendez75@gmail.com
To:leobenedictus@yahoo.co.uk
Subject: Re: Hello
Date: Thursday, 14 January 2010 20:41:23
Finally, someone who understands what I am trying to do! Honestly Leo, I can’t tell you how relieved I am to hear you say that. This is fiction influenced by fact: why is that so hard for people to understand? If you actually go back and look at how Daniel O’Nolan and Harvey Green were portrayed at the time, you can see how the media fictionalised them too.
Take this, from the beginning of an interview O’Nolan did with the Observer shortly after Marsh’s fall:
“I don’t want to talk about that,” Daniel O’Nolan says irritably. “I thought we were here to discuss the consequences of the accident, not rake over everything again.” He scratches distractedly at the crown of his head. And for a moment, almost before we have begun, I am worried that he is about to walk out.
Yet if he did, I admit that I would have some sympathy. Just three months in the public eye have turned this mild-mannered copywriter into somebody so anxious about being misrepresented that he has brought his own dictation machine along to our interview. It is sitting on the table in front of me now, newer and sleeker than my own. Naturally, he would not be photographed either.
Now look at this Liz Jones column on Green, from the Mail on Sunday at around the same time:
“…What happened to the cheeky twinkle that no one could resist when he first burst on the scene? Back then I’ll confess that I even had my own older-woman crush on little Harvey-Lumps, as I used to think of him. These days I’d rather French-kiss a scorpion.
Understandably, the search for Green’s lost mojo has focused mostly on the early hours of February 8th. But it has been obvious to anyone with half an ounce of sense that the real problems started long ago.
This is a man, remember, whose hatred of publicity was well known in celebrity circles long before the gossips turned against him. Did he plan to be a movie star and hope nobody would notice?
Even when he married Vesta? Was that really going to help him lead a quiet life? Sure, it did his career some good, but it was about as convincing as a homemade nose-job.”
Just one question: Where is their evidence?!!! The Observer makes O’Nolan out to be some kind of paranoid obsessive (‘a creepy advertising guy’ Val called him, clearly believing every word), while Jones implies that both Green’s shyness and his marriage were elaborate deceptions aimed at enhancing his career. Where is the evidence? Hopefully – with your help! – this book can make people ask that question just a bit more often.
* * *
From: valerie.morrell@nortonmorrell.co.uk
To: williammendez75@gmail.com
Cc: leobenedictus@yahoo.co.uk
Subject: The Unveiling
Date: Monday, 18 January 2010 14:02:49
Just a quickie, William, to say that we have met both publishers now, and Leo was superb. Everyone obviously impressed, and your marketing ideas went down well, I thought. Jane at Cape confirmed that they will be making an offer by the end of the week. Matthew at Bloomsbury seems delighted that we can move forward, but has not produced their figure yet. Naturally the invisible-author hoo-ha is not forgotten. (I think it created quite a stir in Cape Towers, especially, though we might yet turn that to our advantage.) Will report when I hear more.
Vx
* * *
From:williammendez75@gmail.com
To:valerie.morrell@nortonmorrell.co.uk
Cc:leobenedictus@yahoo.co.uk
Subject: Re: The Unveiling
Date: Monday, 18 January 2010 14:11:41
Thanks Val – and well done Leo! In fact, great job both of you! Did they agree to use the blurb I wrote? I think it would work well with a very strong, eye-catching cover. Commercial but clever. Something with a snail or a whisky glass perhaps?
W
* * *
From:leobenedictus@yahoo.co.uk
To:williammendez75@gmail.com
Cc:valerie.morrell@nortonmorrell.co.uk
Subject: Re: The Unveiling
Date: Tuesday, 19 January 2010 08:48:20
Thanks William,
Actually (and why does this feel like a confession?) the truth is that I really enjoyed myself. It felt very natural being there somehow, and much easier to go through with than I was expecting. Like I just flicked a switch, and I was you. The fact that everyone was so nice at both Bloomsbury and Cape did help, I suppose. And they loved your blurb and marketing ideas, by the way, which I’m definitely up for. Fingers crossed on the offers…
L
* * *
From: valerie.morrell@nortonmorrell.co.uk
To: williammendez75@gmail.com; leobenedictus@yahoo.co.uk
Subject: V URGENT!! - OFFERS IN!!! – NEED DECISION TODAY!!!
Date: Thursday, 21 January 2010 16:14:50
Afternoon chaps. I bring news.
At about 3pm, Cape formally offered a £20,000 advance for the UK and Commonwealth rights to Publicity*****. Jane sounded very keen, and I was literally typing up an email about it when Matthew rang. Naturally I told him the news, and he said straight away that Bloomsbury would go to £60,000 but that we’d need to accept BEFORE 6pm TODAY. I’ve just called Jane back, and she has now gone to £70,000, which Matthew says he will not match. So it’s make your mind up time: £70k from Cape or £60k from Bloomsbury? Both would publish next March, which is a great time for a literary debut, and both are large publishers with prestigious lists, which would give Publicity***** an excellent chance in bookshops. As I see it, there are two issues in play: money, and which group of people you would prefer to work with, based on Leo’s experience of meeting them. Please could you each let me know ASAP what you would like to do, so I can relay the decision.
Best,
Valerie
* * *
From:williammendez75@gmail.com
To:valerie.morrell@nortonmorrell.co.uk; leobenedictus@yahoo.co.uk
Subject: Re: V URGENT!! - OFFERS IN!!! – NEED DECISION TODAY!!!
Date: Thursday, 21 January 2010 16:21:00
Hi Val, Leo
£70,000 from Cape sounds good to me. (Just as you predicted, Val!) Leo, are you OK with that?
W
* * *
From:leobenedictus@yahoo.co.uk
To:williammendez75@gmail.com; valerie.morrell@nortonmorrell.co.uk
Subject: Re: V URGENT!! - OFFERS IN!!! – NEED DECISION TODAY!!!
Date: Thursday, 21 January 2010 16:38:04
It’s hard to say who I prefer from such a short encounter. But both seemed really nice to me, so yes, I’m very happy to go with Cape.
L
* * *
&n
bsp; From: valerie.morrell@nortonmorrell.co.uk
To: leobenedictus@yahoo.co.uk; williammendez75@gmail.com
Subject: Re: V URGENT!! - OFFERS IN!!! – NEED DECISION TODAY!!!
Date: Thursday, 21 January 2010 16:41:09
Fantastic. Thanks guys. I’m calling Jane and Matthew now.
* * *
From: valerie.morrell@nortonmorrell.co.uk
To: leobenedictus@yahoo.co.uk; williammendez75@gmail.com
Subject: Cape Confirmation – deal done!
Date: Thursday, 21 January 2010 17:03:21
So there we have it! Matthew is disappointed, Jane is delighted, and I now have Cape’s offer in writing. Well done, everyone! William, you are slightly rich!
Leo, I don’t wish to rush you, but I expect to receive the contract in the next few days, so if you could begin your search for a new agent straight away, I would be very grateful.
William, I’m absolutely thrilled that you have finally got the deal you deserve, and I hope the book will go on to great success. We’ve had some sticky patches, you and I, and there were days when I thought we would never get here, but I just want to let you know what a pleasure it has been to represent you. I am sad that we must part company – very sad. But I know you understand why I have to walk away, and I hope that circumstances will permit us to meet one day, so I can tell you all this in person.
Affectionately and always,
Valerie x
* * *
From:williammendez75@gmail.com
To:valerie.morrell@nortonmorrell.co.uk; leobenedictus@yahoo.co.uk
Subject: Re: Cape Confirmation – deal done!