Nothing But Trouble

by Matt Cain

  33 seconds.

  Hadn’t Vlad said this would take about 30 seconds? He hoped to God there was enough time.

  ‘Changes rendering,’ read the computer.

  Oh come on! Why’s it taking so long?

  To try and distract himself he glanced up and out of the window, over the heads of the fans and down onto the stage. The dancers were beginning to move into formation around the bottom of the staircase, presumably to welcome Lola when she made her entrance at the top.

  15 seconds.

  He wondered what must be going through Lola’s mind right now. And how on earth she could be feeling in the right state of mind to perform.

  5 seconds.

  If the render didn’t finish now, he’d have failed – failed to protect Lola and failed to save any future the two of them might have had together.

  Oh please God let it work!

  The computer gave off a loud ping.

  ‘Render complete,’ he read.

  Thank FUCK for that!

  ‘That’s it,’ Vlad announced. ‘We did it!’

  Freddy held onto the wall and exhaled with a loud moan. Through the window he saw Lola shoot up into the air and land on her feet on the stage. It was as if someone had set off a small bomb in the arena; it erupted into more noise than he’d ever imagined his eardrums could take.

  He’d done it. He’d actually done it.

  Now it was all down to Lola. But she looked terrified. She was so stiff with fear she could hardly move down the stairs. And when she opened her mouth to sing, her voice sounded throaty and hoarse.

  ‘You know what,’ Vlad broke in, ‘I think I know who did this.’

  ‘Really?’ asked Freddy. ‘Who was it?’

  ‘Lola’s backing singer, Gloria. I caught her in here earlier and asked what she was doing but she talked her way out of it.’

  Freddy didn’t know why, but he was pretty sure Vlad blushed.

  ‘Anyway, she left this,’ he went on, ejecting a memory stick from his computer and handing it over.

  Freddy took hold of it and turned back to look at the stage. ‘Thanks, mate. I’ll take care of this.’

  But first he needed to take care of Lola. His face twisted into a grimace as he watched her stumble off the bottom step and almost fall flat on her face. Thankfully the fans didn’t seem to notice; they carried on roaring so loudly they were making the glass in the window vibrate. But Lola was obviously struggling. And she needed his help. There was nothing else for it; he’d have to rush back to the wings and somehow give her the signal that she could stop worrying and relax into her performance.

  ‘Tiny!’ he shouted over to her bodyguard standing at the door. ‘Are you ready for round two?’

  *

  Lola did her best to strut her way across the stage but felt so stiff she was in serious danger of tripping over her own legs. A jet of steam burst into the air beside her and despite the fact she’d rehearsed her reaction to it several times she almost shrieked into her microphone with fright.

  Shit, I really need to get it together!

  She realized her helmet was skew-whiff and readjusted it so the mic was back in front of her mouth. As she floundered along the travelator, she reminded herself that Tramp was supposed to be an anthem to female empowerment and did her best to infuse the lyrics with the appropriate emotion. But right now empowered and strong couldn’t be any further from the way she was feeling. All she could think about were the images playing on the screens behind her. She glanced over her shoulder for another look and recognized the footage Hettie had shot of her dressed as a boxer. So far so good!

  But there was no way she could perform the whole song in this stressed-out state. As she staggered off the travelator and into the second verse, she mixed up her moves and leapt off a rising podium straight into an explosion of strobe lighting. In her confusion she dropped her gun and had to quickly bend down to scoop it up before one of the dancers kicked it into the audience. By the time she opened her mouth to sing the next line her voice had gone up an entire octave. Fuck me, this is a disaster!

  The worst thing was, she knew that if Freddy had managed to switch the footage he’d have done it by now; because of the way the sequencing worked any changes had to be made before the song started. So there was a chance she was panicking needlessly. But when was this footage of her snorting coke supposed to come in? After the first verse? During the second? She had absolutely no way of knowing. And the suspense was shattering her self-belief – and ruining her performance.

  Thankfully the audience didn’t seem to notice. However much she slaughtered the song they just carried on cheering. She stumbled into the second chorus and fired her gun at one of the dancers. As she swivelled around to shoot another, she caught sight of a flash of red hair standing in the wings. It was Freddy.

  Oh my God!

  He gave her the thumbs up and nodded brightly.

  Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!

  He’d done it. He’d actually done it.

  The news was enough for her to feel a huge surge of energy and confidence – much more than she’d have received from any coke.

  And she knew just what to do with it. It was all going straight into her performance.

  *

  As he took his place next to Freddy in the wings, Harvey stroked his AAA laminate. He’d enjoyed showing it to the crisp-munching security guard who’d refused to let him into the artists’ entrance as he’d returned to storm through the doors with a smile. And he’d enjoyed feeling it bounce around his neck as he’d dashed along the corridors, making sure Lola’s roadies and stage crew could see he was back in business and back in Lola’s life. But as her newly reinstated manager he couldn’t forget he had a job to do; he needed to make sure the crisis had been averted.

  ‘All right, lad?’ he said to Freddy. ‘How’d you get on?’

  ‘Job done,’ Freddy smiled without taking his eyes off Lola. ‘I’ve just given her the nod now.’

  ‘Brilliant news! Well done!’

  The two of them looked out at Lola as she scorched her way across the stage. Harvey listened to her voice soar out over the fans and watched in wonder as she powered her way through a dance routine he knew she usually found tough. There was no doubt about it: she was on fire – and the crowd was going wild.

  ‘So who’s this Gloria then?’ broke in Freddy.

  Harvey tore his eyes off Lola and pointed out the backing vocalists swaying to the beat at the side of the stage. ‘Gloria’s the one on the left. But why do you ask that?’

  ‘Well, according to Vlad she’s the one who switched the footage.’

  ‘Fuck. Are you serious?’

  ‘Yeah. He caught her with this just before the show.’

  Freddy handed him the memory stick and Harvey slipped it into his pocket. He’d make sure he destroyed it as soon as he was home. And hopefully that would be the end of the whole sorry saga. Except what if there’s another copy of the footage? Gloria must have shot it on her phone . . .

  ‘Listen, lad,’ he said, ‘I need to nip off and tie up some loose ends.’

  ‘So I take it you’ve been given your job back?’ Freddy smiled. ‘Congratulations.’

  ‘Yeah, thanks. But don’t congratulate me just yet. There’s something really important I need to do first.’

  *

  As Lola thundered her way through to the middle eight, Gloria looked behind her and checked the screens. Surely her footage should have been played by now? She’d told Clinton to edit it in about two thirds of the way through the song. But they were already past that point and all she could see was that stupid film of Lola prancing around pretending to be a boxer. What the fuck’s going on?

  She continued swaying to the beat as she tried to piece together what could have happened. She’d been meticulously careful about following Clinton’s instructions when she’d been substituting the footage. And the computer had made the sound he’d told her to listen out for which said her subs
titution was complete. So what the hell had gone wrong?

  As she watched Lola thump her way through a dance routine even she had to admit was impressive, she started to wonder if maybe she’d been rumbled. But she couldn’t work out how on earth that might have been possible . . .

  I listened out for the sound from the computer.

  I remembered to shut down the screen.

  I picked up the memory stick . . .

  She froze to the spot.

  Shit! I didn’t pick up the memory stick!

  How could I have been so stupid?

  She felt the tips of her fingers tingle with tension. She’d fallen at the final hurdle. And the worst thing was, it hadn’t even been her fault. If Vlad hadn’t been in such a hurry to shove his fat dick in her mouth, she might have been able to concentrate on what she was doing.

  But that had to be it; when she’d left he must have spotted the memory stick and realized she’d been up to something. That would explain why Lola had been in such a fluster before the show – and why she’d acted all weird when she first came on stage. It would explain why Freddy Jones had suddenly appeared in the wings and given her a thumbs-up to signal that everything was OK. It would even explain why Harvey had made a surprise reappearance and pointed Gloria out to him.

  Well, they were obviously all in on it together. And once again Gloria was the loser.

  Once again the whole world had turned against her.

  Once again she’d tried to shine, only to see her efforts stamped on by people who wouldn’t give her a chance.

  Oh it’s all so unfair!

  Sharonne hissed in her ear and snapped her back to reality. ‘Gloria, what are you doing?’ Gloria saw her frown and remembered to keep moving to the beat.

  There was nothing else she could do now. She’d just have to get through the show and then face whatever was coming to her. Although she had a pretty good idea what it would be. And the very thought of it made her feel sick with dread.

  Lola might not have had any reason to sack her before. But she certainly did now.

  *

  Harvey burst through the door of Gloria’s dressing room and immediately began scouring every surface for her mobile phone. He felt his way along her dressing table, looked under endless G-strings, wrestled his way through a tangle of tights and singed his fingers on a pair of hair straighteners.

  Shit!

  He sucked on his fingers and pulled open Gloria’s top drawer. But all he could find were jars of cocoa butter and beauty products, as well as a silver contraption which could have been an eyelash curler or might just as easily have been a piece of torture equipment. He yanked open another drawer with such force he managed to pull off the front and was almost buried under an avalanche of tampons. But still there was no sign of her phone.

  He remembered that he had Gloria’s number programmed into his own phone and quickly fished it out of his back pocket. As he pressed the Call button he stepped back to listen. After an agonizing pause the ringer began to sound from an armchair in the corner.

  Phew!

  He raced over and picked up Gloria’s phone. He was relieved to find that she hadn’t set a passcode.

  Bad move, Gloria!

  He went straight into her photo album and began flicking through the videos. He trawled through countless clips of her little girl, including one particularly cute one that showed her playing with a fairytale castle on her birthday. He paused for a second as he realized how hard it must be for Gloria to bring up her daughter on her own. He might even have felt a stab of sympathy for her if she hadn’t gone all out to destroy Lola. But the fact remained that she had. And he had to find the video and delete it.

  His eyes alighted on the next clip along, a darker film that looked like it had been shot in a nightclub. He pressed Play and tried not to groan out loud as Lola and her Style Council burst onto the screen snorting line after line of coke. He felt a prickle of regret as he remembered that shortly afterwards Lola had sacked him. Even though she’d now apologized, it was still very painful. Well, he’d just have to turn back time to a few moments before that incident and wipe it from the record.

  He hit the Delete button and watched as the video disappeared from the screen. If Gloria tried to tell anyone she’d seen Lola snorting coke now she’d have no evidence to back up her claim – and nor would she be able to prove Harvey had broken into her room and deleted the footage from her phone. He picked up a tour T-shirt and wiped his fingerprints off the handset just in case. No, there was no way anyone would believe her now. They’d be much more likely to assume she was an embittered backing vocalist jealous of Lola’s success. Which, of course, she was.

  From now on Lola was safe. And everyone close to her could breathe easily.

  What was it Freddy had said?

  Job done.

  He couldn’t have put it better himself.

  *

  On stage, Lola was blasting her way through to the end of the song. As she belted out the lyrics she invested them with so much emotion she finally felt she might actually deserve some of the adulation emanating from the audience. And she might have written the song nearly a year ago, when she’d been dumped by Fox Marshall, but it was only since the last few months and the break-up of her relationship with Jake that she finally felt fully committed to its message.

  She looked at Jake now, banging away on his drums, his shirt split to the waist to show off his torso but with no sign of his signature sloppy grin or the arrogance that usually illuminated his penetrating green eyes. She wondered what had happened to knock him off his perch but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She pictured him in twenty years’ time when his looks had faded and his sex drive had dimmed and everyone would realize there was nothing else to him. She knew for sure he’d end up a sad and lonely loser living a life empty of love.

  She sensed the dancers moving into position behind her, stepping towards the front of the stage and preparing to bring the song to its stirring climax. As she stormed through her final lines, she realized with a rush of energy that her feelings towards Jake weren’t entirely negative; looking at him now she did feel a flutter of gratitude. Because he was the man who’d finally convinced her she was through with tramps. Her head might have warned her off them for a long time beforehand, but it had taken her experience with Jake for her emotions to finally catch up. And now she knew beyond all doubt that she didn’t feel the slightest tickle of attraction towards him – or any other tramp for that matter.

  She was, on the other hand, gripped by a powerful attraction to Freddy – and it was helping drive her through the song. She could feel his eyes watching her from the wings and more than anything she wanted to turn around and look back at him. She couldn’t get over what he’d just done for her. His actions had been nothing short of heroic but the weird thing was, his heroism didn’t make Lola feel that familiar sensation of being unworthy. On the contrary, it made her feel good about herself. And as she dropped down into the crouching pose that ended her routine, she knew it was a feeling she was finally ready to embrace.

  *

  Freddy tore himself away from his view of Lola and crept through the wings towards the position in the scene dock where they’d agreed they’d be broadcasting live. It was almost pitch-black so he had to shine his phone onto his watch to find out the time. There were twenty minutes to go till the programme began at nine o’clock, and just a few minutes after that he’d be on air. He didn’t have the slightest idea what he’d be saying; his own success in saving Lola from public disgrace had left him with nothing to report on. Well, he’d just have to call Hugh and tell him straight – and then face whatever his boss wanted to throw at him. Although he had a pretty good idea what it would be.

  He picked up his phone and dialled the number of the studio gallery. It was a shitty thing to do to land his colleagues with no top story just a few minutes before they went on air. But there was no point feeling guilty about it. He knew he’d done the right
thing.

  ‘Hello,’ Hugh answered.

  Freddy tried his best to sound upbeat. ‘All right, boss?’

  ‘Yeah, how’s it going, boyo? Has it all kicked off over there?’

  ‘I’m afraid not. It turns out there was no footage of Lola snorting coke after all – the whole thing was a hoax set up by some jealous backing singer.’

  Well, it’s only half a lie. And much simpler than telling Hugh the whole truth.

  ‘Oh no. You’re not serious?’

  ‘Unfortunately I am.’

  Or should I say ‘fortunately’?

  ‘Well, what the fuck am I supposed to do now?’ Hugh spat. ‘I mean, I can move you down the running order but I’ll still have a five-minute hole to fill.’

  ‘I know, mate. I’m really sorry. But I can easily give you five minutes on the first night of the show. It’s been amazing so far and we got some cracking footage backstage.’

  Hugh let loose an exaggerated sigh. ‘Is that seriously what you’re offering me − Lola’s first show? That’s not news, Freddy!’

  Yes it is, it’s just not bad news.

  ‘Isn’t it?’ he managed with a hint of defiance. ‘Why can’t we run a good-news story for once?’

  ‘Because that’s not how you make noise, boyo. And you promised to make my ears bleed!’

  ‘Yeah, I know, I’m sorry about that.’

  Actually, I’m not sorry at all.

  ‘Yeah, well, sorry’s not good enough. This story was handed to you on a plate – and you still managed to fuck it up.’

  Well, I wouldn’t put it like that exactly. Although he kept quiet, realizing it was better for Hugh to think he’d fucked it up rather than deliberately killing the story himself.

  ‘Anyway, I need a story, Freddy. I can’t just broadcast a black hole. You’re on at half past nine – and if you can’t deliver you can consider yourself unemployed.’

  Freddy nodded gravely. ‘All right, boss. Leave it with me.’

  He ended the call and stood staring at his phone.

  Just when he’d solved one problem, he collided head-first into another.

  What the hell was he going to do now?