‘Oh, balls. I just started playing and I got took – you know what it is when that happens. I get all worked up. Marvellous.’
‘I wish you’d taped it,’ he said and stood up and went over to get a drink for himself. ‘It sounded – well, it was good. Bloody good. One of these days, Maggy, they’re all going to go mad over you. You’ve got your following now, I know, but one of these days –’
‘Yes, one of these days. How was it at the office? You haven’t said.’
‘The album sounds terrific. Fantastic. I heard it through from the top and I have to tell you it’s great. They’ve given me a white to take over to the States with us. If I use it properly we’ll get some good advance publicity on it. Can’t wait for the sleeve –’
‘The States.’ She sat staring at him, thinking hard. She’d almost forgotten, and yet she hadn’t. ‘I’ve lost track a bit. When do I go?’
‘Friday.’ He came and sat beside her again. ‘I’ve got the itinerary here – five gigs all in and around New York and Washington this time, thank God, so you won’t have to travel too much. But I’ve told ’em, you’re not too well, you might have to postpone, no – don’t worry, I didn’t tell ’em why. Didn’t think it’d be a good idea. You know how they are on publicity. If this one gets out – mind you, it’ll be a problem if we postpone. The trade press stuff is already out, and they’re advertising. It worries me, love. I’ll tell you. After last night –’
‘I’m fine,’ she said, abstractedly. ‘Theo –’ and then stopped.
‘Hmm?’ He slid one arm around her, cupping his hand over her breast Cosy.
‘I want to go on my own.’
His hand tightened, almost painfully, and then let go. ‘What? Why?’
She turned and looked at him, trying to keep her face blank. ‘To – to get my nerve back.’ She was improvising now, just as she had on the piano. Let it happen. Let the words come out the way they want to. Then it’ll be all right Just like the piano.
‘If you get scared you don’t work at getting over it, you can be stuck like it for life. People fall off horses, never get on again. Or fall in a swimming pool and never swim again. I don’t want to get like that. And if I don’t go on my own, this time, I’ll never go anywhere on my own again.’
‘Now, Maggy, for God’s sake, don’t be daft! Of course I’ve got to go with you! I always go on these trips – it’s what I’m for. As for being alone – what about the others? Dan and Komo and Chalky. Are you going without them as well?’
She grinned at that. ‘Oh, come on, Theo! Those three? I look after them! They just get stoned and stay that way – anyway –’ She leaned forward, as earnest as she knew how to be. ‘They’re different. We’re together, but not really together. Not the way we are, you know? When you’re with me – I lean, I don’t bother about things, I leave it to you. It’s too easy.’
‘It’s what I’m for,’ he said, and there was a note of stubbornness in his voice that told her she’d won, almost, she just had to push it home.
‘I know, love. You’re marvellous. And leaning on you is great. Some of the time. This time, though, I’ve got to lean on myself. Because if I don’t I’ll never manage it again. I want to go on my own. I’ve got to.’
His face was closed now and he stood up, went over to the piano and started to close it, carefully blowing dust off the keys, using his handkerchief to rub a mark from the case. She watched him and wanted to cry, suddenly, wanted to hold out her arms and say, ‘It’s all right! Of course I trust you – of course we’ll go together.’ But she didn’t. Because much as she wanted to, somewhere dragging deep was the lingering suspicion and fear still there.
He was punctilious in everything he said and did for the rest of the week, making no comments about her decision, behaving as though it were the most normal thing in the world. The office booked the plane tickets, arranging she should go to Washington the day before the others to meet the tour manager and look the scene over, and still he said nothing, even when the people at the office showed surprise that he wasn’t going along. He’d gone along on every concert she’d done ever since they’d been together; no wonder they were surprised. The girls in the typing pool giggled and guessed, whispering about them to Sharlene from reception and they both knew it, and both ignored it. What did they care about stupid gossip?
But he looked tight-lipped and withdrawn and that worried her more than she would have thought it could. Had he nagged, fussed, tried to insist on coming with her it would have been easier; then she could have been angry with him. As it was she was filled with guilt and that made her tense and remote.
They were polite to each other all week, cool and polite, and though they made love once or twice there was no passion in it, no real involvement. She began to feel lonely again, the way she had been long ago, before Theo, living alone in the flat. Was I lonely like this when I first left Dolly? she asked herself, sorting through clothes, planning what to take. I moved into that dismal little room in Shepherds Bush, all by myself; was I lonely like this then? But she couldn’t remember and didn’t want to try, and thank heaven, had enough to keep her busy so that she was able to control this maddening new tendency of hers to go scrabbling in the past.
He drove her to Heathrow on Friday morning to catch her plane; he’d insisted on that, for the first time showing a flash of the way he was feeling about her refusal to let him go with her, and she hadn’t argued. There was no need to slap him in the face after all, and she let him check her in, see her as far as passport control on the way to the departure lounge.
‘Take care, now,’ he said, and took her face between both hands and kissed her. ‘You hear me? Take care.’
‘I’ll be fine, really I will. It’s here there are problems, so there’s no need to worry. I mean, whatever’s going on with break-ins and all has nothing to do with this tour. If anyone’s at risk, it’s you – I mean, maybe whoever it is’ll break in again –’
‘I wish he would,’ Theo said grimly. ‘Christ, but I wish he would! Then maybe we’d begin to get somewhere. I’d have the arse off him –’
‘Well, you take care. And I’ll be back in a week – and I’ll call you –’
‘Yes – call me tomorrow, hey? Whatever time, it doesn’t matter. I’ll be waiting. Go on – they’ll be calling your flight –’ And he pushed her gently and she grinned and went through passport control, smiling back at him over her shoulder as she did. He looked as lonely as she felt, standing there, his hands in his coat pockets.
‘She’s starting in Washington. Two concerts there and then one in Long Island, and two more in Manhattan.’
‘Where’s she staying?’
‘I haven’t found out yet. But no hassle – there’ll be someone meeting the plane. We’ll know soon enough.’
‘Okay. But no pushing, you hear me? I want to see this one through myself. It’ll be interesting, apart from anything else. After so long – and call Gibbs, will you? Tell him he’s fired. From now on I’ll deal direct.’
Bloody Americans. Bastards, every one of them. He’d done them proud, hadn’t he? All this time he’d done them proud. Why give him the push now? All right, so he hadn’t managed to keep as close an eye on the girl as they’d wanted to, but what did they expect for tuppence ha’penny? If they’d paid him enough to run his own proper transport it’d be different. As it was, rattling around the way he had to, was it any wonder he hadn’t done so well? They wanted Starsky and Hutch for fivepence, they did.
But there was still Lang, wasn’t there? They’d told him enough about that situation to make it an interesting one. Anything they can do, I can do better. They don’t want me to collect from him any more? Great. I’ll do it for myself. Set up in business on my own account –
Whistling softly to himself, he scrabbled in his pocket for a twopence piece to make a phone call.
20
She liked the States. She always had, ever since that first visit nine years ago, coming as part
of an all-girl band playing a dozen one-night stands around the Eastern seaboard. It was the sheer verve of it all, the screaming signs and the reek of hamburgers, the pot-holed streets and the eternally hooting traffic, and the people, the startling incredible mix of people. There were fatter and thinner and taller and shorter and uglier and more beautiful people here than anywhere else, certainly than in London. It excited her, made her feel more awake, and made her music bubble nearer the surface.
Washington went fine. The concerts were sell-outs, and the boys were happy, even Komo going along with the general euphoria and not losing his temper more than twice in three days. There was a lot of attention from the press, and that pleased Josh, the tour manager, who beamed and sweated and rushed her from interview to TV station to radio show, obviously loving every self-important minute.
‘We’re doing well, incredibly well, sweetie,’ he told her, leaning back in the car as they went back to the airport for the hop to New York. ‘There’s some big stories around right now, some big stories, Sinatra at Radio City, Rice and Lloyd Webber are in town, Lancaster came in yesterday, got a big one at Madison Square Garden – that’ll really grab ’em – so you’re getting great coverage, considering –’
‘Lancaster?’ she said idly, not really caring, watching the houses rush past the car windows, staring at the advertising hoardings, the traffic going the wrong way, all the exotic foreignness that was America. ‘What’s he? Should I know?’
He laughed. ‘No reason you should know. Not a musician – revivalist Got a big following back on the West Coast –’
‘Oh,’ she said. ‘That chap who’s going to Wembley next month? I’ve read about him at home. Another of those Billy Graham types, isn’t he? Is he so big here?’
‘Is he ever!’ Josh said, shaking his head in admiration. ‘Real gut stuff he throws out, and they come, and they pay. Must be making a bomb –’
‘Sooner him than me,’ she said, bored. ‘Are the boys ahead of us? I tend to worry about Komo – he’s a bit on the unreliable side sometimes –’
‘I sent Dave with them. They’re behind us –’ He peered through the rear window. ‘Yeah – there they are. No sweat. We’ll be in New York in a few hours and then we’ll wake ’em up! You’re getting great coverage, great –’
She grinned. ‘I’ll tell them in London. Don’t worry, they’ll be told,’ and he grinned too. This is a stinking business, she thought, stinking. Constant back-scratching, all the time. You help me, I’ll help you, what’s in it for me?
And sharply, her mind shifted and she was back in the maelstrom of confusion that had been such hell to live with ever since Dolly’s death. For the past three days here in Washington she’d been caught up in the excitement of work, had rushed about, played her music, been on a high, but now she came down as suddenly as though the high had been drug-induced. She’d tried pot a few times, not because she was particularly into drugs, but because the boys did, and it seemed silly not to see for herself, and the same thing had happened. It was why she’d stopped using it. One minute buzzing along on the top deck, the next hitting the ground with an almost physical thump. That was how it was sitting here in the car, going to the airport in Washington.
Dolly and Hornby and Gerald and Morty Lang and Andy and Ida and Oliver and Theo – the names swirled around in her head, coming between her eyes and the passing scenery at which she was staring, and she felt her neck muscles tighten. Why did it have to be like this, damn it? All this because of a tatty debt-encrusted hotel she didn’t really want. Why did she have to go digging up a lot of ancient history, just to qualify for the ownership of a burden? It was absurd.
But it’s not. It’s part of a search for myself. I’m sitting here in a car in Washington on the way to New York, on top of a lot of dead people. There’s the child Margaret Rose, long since dead, and you’re still mourning for her; there’s the adolescent gawky Margaret, posing and yearning and stamping her feet and she’s dead too, and yet you cry for her; and there’s the almost adult Maggy in there somewhere, still in the process of dying, still pushing you – the now Maggy, the real living Maggy – to the top of the heap with her last gasps. All of them sitting in a car on its way to Washington airport.
‘I’ll go to Cheltenham as soon as I get back,’ she said aloud, staring out of the window as the car curved, turning into the airport road. ‘As soon as I get back. Get it over and done with.’
‘What?’ Josh was fussing with tickets, fiddling with pieces of paper in his wallet. ‘What’s that you say, sweetie?’
‘Nothing. Just sorting out a few ideas. I’ve got my passport here. I’d better take my own ticket, hadn’t I? Thanks – no, I’ll take this bag. It’s got the music –’
It was raining in New York, the water swirling in the gutters, carrying garbage and taxis out of sight and the line for taxis at La Guardia was long and Josh began to fuss, trying to get VIP treatment for her and the boys, and not getting far.
She stood in the taxi line, calm and quiet; she’d learned long ago to pace herself, not to expend precious energy on fussing and anger, leaving it to someone else. But she was tired and wanted a shower and found herself wishing, suddenly, that Theo was here. He never had trouble with taxis.
‘Ma’am – may I be of service?’ She turned her head to see a tall quiet young man in a neat black suit and blue shirt and quiet dark tie standing behind her. His hair was glossy, short and neat, and his teeth – he was smiling to show them – as white and even as a toothpaste advertisement. She almost expected a shaft of reflected light to come off them, they always did on TV commercials.
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘I understand you’re having problems with transport? I have my car here, and I’d deem it an honour, ma’am, if you’d allow me to take you wherever you want to go.’
She frowned for a moment and then looked over his shoulder to where Josh was standing expostulating with someone with a peaked cap and a bored expression.
‘Well, I don’t know – that’s very kind. But someone’s –’
Josh came hurrying over. ‘Goddamned fool! It’s like talking to a – listen, honey, I’m sorry, there’s no way we can do a thing. Just got to wait in line, I guess – I’ve done my best –’
‘We’ve been offered a lift, Josh,’ she said, and smiled at the tall young man. He was looking glossier by the second. ‘I don’t know who –’
The young man smiled even more widely. ‘My name is Greening, Gregory Greening, ma’am. Glad to be of service to you.’
Josh beamed, became expansive. ‘Well, now, Maggy, fans everywhere! That’s great, really great. There’s quite a crew of us, though, Greg! There’s myself of course, and the band – three guys, their luggage – and the sound man, Dave –are you sure you can –’
‘My pleasure,’ said Greening. ‘I have a friend here –’ and he turned his head and out of the hubbub of people milling around them came another glossy young man, blond this time, but just as highly polished and healthy-looking. Maggy wanted to giggle suddenly. They looked too good to be true. Fans? Such well-shaped shining young men fans of hers? They looked as though they never listened to anything more exciting than Laurence Whelk, or Mantovani if they were feeling really daring.
‘This is Hartford Salmon, ma’am, and he’ll be happy to help take your party. If the porters will just follow us –’
Smoothly the two young men scooped them up, led them away, and luggage was piled into the back of one car and somehow, the rest of them, the band, and Josh and Dave, all got into the other station wagon leaving Maggy to go with Greening and the luggage.
He settled her comfortably in the seat beside him, even offering her a rug, which piece of old-world concern amused her, and then slid into the driving seat beside her and pulled out into the traffic with a smooth easy movement He drove carefully and quickly.
‘Well, now, we’ll have you there in no time, ma’am. Have you stayed at the Waldorf before?’
�
��Yes,’ she said, studying his profile. ‘Tell me, what were you doing at the airport that you can take time to help out a stranger like this?’
He smiled, gently, so that his cheeks dimpled. He really is absurdly pretty, she thought. It’s as though he were cut out of the back of a cornflake box. Make your very own All-American Boy.
‘Well, now, ma’am, I was rather looking for you, you might say.’
She turned her head sharply then, to look over her shoulder at the car following. She could see them, Josh in the front seat, his hands waving and his jaw moving rhythmically as he talked across Dave to the driver. All round her there were cars, cars, more cars. Why was she so suddenly frightened?
‘Looking for me? You knew I’d be there? How can that be?’
‘You’ve had a lot of publicity, Miss Dundas. Papers, and all that. Lots of advertising, going to be a big concert, they tell me, this one. Lincoln Center? Yes.’
‘Reading ads about concerts is one thing. Recognizing the person who’s going to be giving the concert in a taxi queue is something else.’ All her nerves were on edge now, and she found herself sitting very upright, staring at his reflection in the windscreen as the car moved into the heavy traffic heading for the tunnel into Manhattan.
‘My, that’s very unassuming of you, Miss Dundas. I always thought pop stars expected everyone to recognize them all the time.’
‘I’m not a pop star. I play jazz. Good jazz. Do you like it?’
‘Well, now, ma’am, you must forgive me, but to say the truth I’ve never actually –’
‘No, I didn’t think you had. You don’t look the sort to be interested in my sort of music.’ She was sounding offensive now, and she knew it, and at a deep level was ashamed. After all, he was helping her, doing her a favour. Why be so hostile?
He laughed aloud at that. ‘You’re right, ma’am, indeed you are. I’m not interested in music at all, any kind. I always was an oddball that way. My folks could never understand it They all played records all the time, you know? But there, I just never took to it. I read a lot, and I like to concentrate on the words. Music gets in the way, I think, so –’
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