by Matt Cain
‘But it all seemed so perfect,’ his mam bleated, still unable to accept her dream of having a pop star daughter-in-law was over. ‘Lola meets Little Freddy just when she’s ready to give up bad boys.’
‘Or tramps as she calls them,’ offered Helen, tugging at Baby Freddy’s now filthy bib.
The mere mention of the word made Freddy’s chest tighten. He thought back to his interview with Lola on the set of the video for Tramp. How she’d explained at great length that she was through with tramps and then had fluttered her eyelashes at him as she’d asked if he knew any nice boys. He could hardly blame his mam for believing she was interested in him – at the time he’d believed it too. But now it looked like he’d fallen for some kind of act and in the process been humiliated in front of his family and his entire home town. He gave out a shaky sigh. He might have known Lola would be trouble; the warning signs were there from the start.
‘Anyway, enough about girlfriends,’ his dad butted in. ‘How are you getting on with your rugby, champ?’
His mam and sister began to clear the plates and Freddy stood up to help them, explaining to the slouching males that he’d just started playing another season for the Welsh Dragons in the London Sunday League. He glossed over the fact that once again he’d been picked for the second team.
‘And do you think you’ll make the first team this season?’ sniped Owen.
‘Oh I don’t know,’ he replied calmly. ‘I’m not sure I’m good enough for the firsts.’
Owen’s face betrayed a glint of satisfaction while Freddy’s dad frowned sympathetically. But for once it didn’t bother him. On the contrary, after all the talk about Lola he felt relieved to be discussing a disappointment he knew how to handle.
*
Lola looked at her costume and wasn’t disappointed. On the contrary, she was pleasantly surprised. It had been her idea to spend one section of the show dressed as strong female leaders from history. Boudicca, Joan of Arc, Cleopatra – a trio of warrior women who’d together help her project a steely front to the audience and show the world she wasn’t to be messed with. And along the way hopefully inspire her female fans to tap into their own inner strength. After months of design meetings and discussions about sketches, her vision was finally starting to take shape.
‘Now this is fierce!’ she gushed as she gave a twirl dressed in the beginnings of the costume that would transform her into Cleopatra: a jewel-encrusted headdress with a ruby-eyed cobra at its crest; a glittering gold gown which would shimmer as she shimmied under the stage lights; and an ornately embroidered cape with winged sleeves which, when lifted, would transform her into a towering, indomitable presence.
‘Now you have to imagine it with a long black wig and all the eye make-up,’ quipped the designer. ‘Oh, and without any of the safety pins!’
Lucretia Lavelle was a grand but rather haggard heiress-turned-hellraiser who’d first made her name as a fashion designer in the Seventies and since then had become almost as famous for her scandalous affairs and five husbands, including an earl, a high-ranking member of Margaret Thatcher’s cabinet and a much younger truck driver from a council estate in Hull. Now single and a senior stateswoman of British fashion with a worldwide reputation, she still had a naughty twinkle in her eye, insisted on dyeing her hair bright purple and would occasionally flash photographers to prove she was wearing no knickers. Before she’d become famous, Lola had watched mesmerized as Lucretia had been interviewed on Piers Morgan’s Life Stories and had gasped in delight as she’d recounted every detail of her rule-breaking behaviour and rebellious lifestyle. And now one of her all-time idols was designing the costumes for her new show. She felt slightly overcome and more than a little humbled.
‘Well, I’m really made up,’ she managed, moving over to the mirror to raise her arms and enjoy the full effect of the sleeves. ‘And I’m sure Carlson can work these wings into some kind of routine.’
‘Now just stand still one minute,’ Lucretia asked, lowering herself onto her knees to adjust the hemline of the gown. Lola froze to the spot, unable to quite believe Lucretia Lavelle was kneeling at her feet.
But right now it was just the kind of distraction she needed. For the last few days she’d struggled to try and take her mind off the horror of walking in on Jake having sex with Gloria – and to make up for the fact that she had to face the two of them almost every day at band rehearsals. She wished to God she could have just sacked them; it would have made things so much easier. She just felt so betrayed – and she couldn’t get the image of the two of them looking up at her from the floor of the storeroom out of her mind.
Perhaps even worse, over the last few days she’d been surprised to discover she actually missed Jake. Or at least she missed loving him – even if their love had been one-sided. But without it the joy had been sucked out of her world and everything felt different. Even her food tasted different – bland and flavourless. But being struck in the face with evidence of Jake’s infidelity had robbed her of all her happy memories of him, contaminating everything they’d done together and souring their entire relationship. Or whatever Jake wanted to call it. Now she woke up in the morning feeling like one of those piñatas children bashed with sticks at parties, tearing them to bits to get to the sweetness inside.
‘I’m just going to take this in a bit at the waist,’ explained Lucretia, bunching together a handful of fabric. ‘I mean, it’s not really historically accurate but let’s be honest, you do want to look hot.’ She gave a loud, throaty cackle and Lola couldn’t resist joining in.
Her laughter trailed off as she remembered how she’d felt on stage at Hyde Park and the triumph that had blazed in her eyes as she’d first got together with Jake later that night. All right, the warning signs had been there from the start but she’d been so carried away by such a strong feeling of sexual attraction, she’d somehow thought it would overpower all negativity and conquer Jake’s compulsion to sleep around. She wondered how Lucretia would respond if she told her what had happened and asked for her advice. She was certainly a woman of the world who’d lived through her fair share of romantic dramas. Surely she’d understand?
But she fell silent. Right now she wasn’t sure she’d be able to trust anyone again. She doubted Lucretia would be capable of shagging her man or selling her story to the press, but then again, she hadn’t expected her last assistant to flog her heartache to the highest bidder or to walk in on Gloria on the job with Jake. And she reminded herself that, just like them, Lucretia was working for her and stood to benefit from the professional association – as did everybody who strayed into the very outreach of her orbit. She was racked by a low throb of loneliness and her costume suddenly felt very heavy.
‘Can I take this off now?’ she asked.
‘Absolutely,’ said Lucretia, beckoning forward her team of assistants with a click of her fingers. ‘We’re all done.’
As she watched the designer issue orders, she couldn’t help wondering what she was hoping to wring out of her. Was it just the credibility of working with a young, cool pop star or was she looking for something more than that? Does she want a piece of me too? Does she want to rip into me like a piñata?
‘And might I say you make a divine Cleopatra?’ gushed Lucretia. ‘The gold really complements your skin tone!’
Does it? Does it really? Lola wasn’t sure what to think anymore – what to think about anything. She looked in the mirror as Lucretia’s assistants dismantled the costume around her and suddenly had no idea whether she looked absolutely amazing or utterly horrendous.
She wondered who she could ask for an impartial opinion. The only other person in the room was Amina, who as usual was tapping away on her iPad, and she was hardly going to tell her she looked like crap, especially knowing what had happened to her last assistant. Of course there was always Harvey – and from the start of her career he’d made a point of telling her the truth. But she couldn’t bear Harvey to know he’d been right about Jake. Oh she
wished she had a manager she could talk to about this kind of thing. And why shouldn’t she? Surely it was a manager’s job to pick up the pieces if their artist made the odd mistake? She resented being made to feel bad about it. And she resented being made to feel like she was being slowly buried under an avalanche of criticism.
Come to think of it, do I really want to expose myself to criticism? Do I really want to hear the truth? She suddenly remembered that she was seeing Belle, Scarlett and Trixie later in the week to shoot the video projections to be shown on the screens during the show. They wouldn’t have a go at her about her disastrous fling with Jake or make her feel bad about it – far from it. Of course she knew they were all on the payroll and only ever told her what she wanted to hear. But surely that was the point; she wanted to hear it. And she was sick of hearing people make comments she didn’t want to hear. If she was a star and didn’t have to hear them, why would she choose to?
And she was a star – a major star. OK, everyone in the team had played a part in her success but ultimately it was Lola the public wanted. It was her name on Tramp, which was currently the number one single in practically every country in Europe. It was her voice and her lyrics that had made it the biggest airplay hit of the year in less than a month. And it was her identity as an artist and the experiences that had inspired her music that had kept her album at number one every week since the summer. And all right, it might be glamorous and fun to be the frontwoman of the entire operation but it was also tough and incredibly stressful. Isn’t it about time everyone cut me some slack?
She watched in the mirror as an assistant removed her elaborate headdress and handed it to Lucretia. She was pretty sure Cleopatra didn’t get to become Queen of Egypt by kowtowing to her subjects. And she certainly hadn’t gone down in history for listening to her manager tell her she was falling for the wrong kind of man. No, she’d simply steamed on and done exactly as she’d pleased. And now she was remembered as one of the greatest women who’d ever lived.
She turned to Lucretia and gave her a smile. ‘OK darlin’, who’s next? Boudicca or Joan of Arc?’
*
Harvey looked at the National Theatre and saw the poster for a new play about Joan of Arc. He’d offer to take Lola if she hadn’t downgraded their relationship to a purely professional one. He hardly thought it would be appropriate now. Since their big row in the kitchen of Pomegranate Dance Studios, all the warmth between them had gradually frozen over – until talking to her had become like skating on a sheet of ice he was terrified of cracking.
‘The other day,’ he huffed, ‘all I said was “All right, Trouble?” and she nearly bit my head off. She told me never to call her that again. But that’s what I’ve always called her!’
Spike shook his head incredulously. ‘That is proper shit, man.’
The two of them had come back to the Cod Squad on the South Bank, where they’d stopped to eat fish and chips on their very first date not quite three months ago. Although summer had now firmly given way to autumn, the late September sunshine was still warm enough for them to sit outside. The carnival atmosphere of early July had gone and there were far fewer people strolling along and gazing at the river now the first leaves were falling from the trees and the sky had clouded over. But Harvey had wanted to come back here to talk to Spike about their relationship; after nearly two weeks’ silence he’d given in to his texts and agreed to meet up to thrash things out. The problem was he also had a confession of his own to make. And now the time had come he found himself doing everything he could not to make it.
‘You know I’m actually worried something else has happened,’ he raced on. ‘She’s been acting like a total cow with everyone all week and Jake’s hardly said a word. He just skulks around the whole time and legs it out the door the second the rehearsal’s over.’
‘Well, isn’t there someone you can ask about it, man?’ Spike managed to squeeze in. ‘And find out the deets on what’s gone on?’
Harvey wrinkled his nose. ‘I don’t know. The atmosphere in rehearsals is so toxic I’m not sure I’d get a straight answer out of anyone.’
‘What about that Carlson? Couldn’t you ask him?’
‘Oh, there’s a waiter!’ Harvey almost shrieked. ‘Shall we order our food?’
Before Spike had time to argue, Harvey had practically yanked over the waiter and was blurting out his order. Spike followed by asking for the same fish and chips he’d eaten last time and then leant onto the table towards Harvey.
‘Is everything all right, blud?’ he asked. ‘It’s just that you’ve been acting proper shifty and it’s making me nervous. And to be honest, I was nervous enough in the first place.’
Come on, lad, Harvey told himself. You can’t put it off any longer.
‘Well, actually,’ he began slowly, ‘there was something I wanted to talk to you about.’
‘Yeah, I know, and I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about that too. And the—’
‘No, Spike,’ Harvey interrupted. ‘It’s not about what you did the other week. I’ve got a confession I need to make this time. And it’s about Carlson.’
Spike gave a sad slump. ‘Oh yeah? What about Carlson?’
‘Well, the other day he tried it on with me.’ Harvey could feel the tension lifting his shoulders.
‘And?’
Oh go on, Harvey, just tell him!
‘And what did you do, man?’
Come on, lad. Spit it out!
Harvey took a deep breath. ‘Don’t worry, I didn’t do anything. But I wanted to. And I had to really fight not to.’
Spike let out a long sigh. ‘Is that it, man? I thought you were going to tell me you shagged him or something.’
Harvey thought back to the erection stirring in his trousers as Carlson had run his fingers along his arm and woven their hands together. ‘No, Spike, I didn’t shag him. But I came really close. And it worried me because I thought I was over all that.’
Spike looked down guiltily. ‘Yeah, well, you’re a lot more over it than I am – obviously.’
‘Yeah but I’m a lot older than you, Spike. And I’ve spent years trying to figure out why I was always so turned on by that kind of thing, cheating on boyfriends and stuff. And I thought I had it all worked out. I thought that would be enough to make the feelings go away. But it hasn’t quite – not yet anyway.’
‘Yeah, well, don’t be too hard on yourself, man,’ Spike offered. ‘I was tempted too but I gave in – and at the time I didn’t even know why. But as I said, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately. And I’m pretty sure I’ve started to work it all out, man.’
Harvey nodded. ‘Oh yeah, and what have you worked out?’
‘Oh, you know, probably that I was trying to punish myself, just like you said you used to. Probably because of the way I was brought up and the kinds of things everyone used to say about people like me. You know, gay people. I suppose part of me, like, still believes them.’
‘But Spike,’ Harvey spluttered, ‘you’re the most amazing guy I’ve ever met. You shouldn’t be thinking anything bad about yourself. And I know I was really pissed off when you first told me what you’d done, but I’ve missed you so much since then.’
‘Me too, blud, me too. I’ve really struggled without you, man.’
As he spoke it was almost as if Harvey could feel his injured feelings knitting back together. This was exactly the kind of thing he’d wanted to hear Spike say. Because he too had stalled without him and shuffled through a life that felt like it had been stripped of all joy. And yeah, he’d been angry when he’d found out Spike had cheated on him and had worried he wouldn’t be able to trust him again. But his little encounter with Carlson had relieved some of that anger – by helping him reconnect with the part of him that even now could sometimes feel gripped by an urge to destroy his happiness.
‘And who knows, man?’ Spike went on. ‘Some of this dark shit might always be a part of me. And it might take ages for, like, my feelings t
o catch up with my brain. But I know they will do one day, man. And I’m hoping you’ll stick with me to see it happen.’
There was a silence and Harvey remembered the last time the two of them had been sitting here, when Lost in Love had blasted out of the sound system and he’d felt utterly uplifted by the possibility of new love. Perhaps it was that sense of hope that he’d missed most over the last few weeks, that he’d struggled to get through the day without. But he knew now that he wanted it back. And if Spike was offering it to him he was ready to seize it.
‘All right Spike, I’ll stick with you. If you’ll stick with me.’
Spike gave him a big, beautiful smile – a smile that on their first date Harvey had thought was like the bright sun breaking through the clouds. Clouds he’d almost forgotten were now filling the sky. ‘For sure, blud. You just try and stop me.’
Harvey reached out and took his hand, not wanting to lose a single second of the connection between them. It was as if he could feel the joy and hope rushing back to revive his sapped spirit. When the waiter came to serve their drinks he didn’t even look up. And neither did Spike.
‘Oh, and Harvey,’ Spike added once the waiter had gone, ‘if it’s not too early to say this again, I love you. I fucking love you.’