by Talli Roland
As she crept down the narrow track leading from the garden to the outskirts of the village, she breathed in the fresh night air, relishing the pure pleasure of being on her own, in comfortable clothes. Until now, she hadn’t realised just how draining the past couple weeks had been. Paula might have been wrong about Jay, but she was right about one thing: being Marilyn definitely wasn’t fun.
A few minutes later, Willow found herself at the deserted festival site. Her heart beat even faster as she took in the enormous field, the line after line of Portaloos, and the gigantic stage set up at the front. Jay had told her it would be huge, of course, but she hadn’t envisioned just how huge until now. God, she hoped she could do this.
Staring at the stage, Willow tried to picture herself up there in front of thousands of screaming people. It was almost impossible to imagine. But she had to do it – she wasn’t about to disappoint the whole village, not to mention Jay and her father. This time tomorrow night, it would all be over and if everything went to plan, she should have enough money to relax about the shop. Squeezing her eyes closed, she fervently wished she could magically transport herself forward in time.
*
The clock had just chimed midnight, but Cissy was far from tired. It was the night before the big concert and she’d come up with nothing to disrupt things. Bitterness seeped in as she thought of all the money the festival would generate. Everyone would benefit: Willow, the village, that dishonourable man . . . everyone but her.
Surely there must be something she could do. She’d already tried planning permissions, and that had failed. But what if it was something more serious; something the government couldn’t ignore?
Cissy racked her brains, frantically trying to think of any illegal activity the festival might be engaged in. She sat up straight as an idea hit. Wasn’t that American woman working for the festival? And hadn’t she said she was here for a holiday? Cissy was sure a tourist couldn’t be employed in any form. All it would take was one phone call, and they would have to investigate.
Grabbing the White Pages again, Cissy found the correct number and dialled it with shaking fingers. ‘Hello, Crimestoppers?’ she said when someone answered. ‘I’d like to report an illegal worker.’
Half an hour later, Cissy hung up, a triumphant grin on her face. ‘Take that,’ she said aloud, her voice echoing in the empty room. It might not put a stop to the festival, but at the very least it would cause a few problems until she could think of something better.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
‘A SPLASH OF SYRUP in your porridge, Dickie?’ Betts asked as she stirred the mixture on the hob. Sun streamed in through the windows and Betts rubbed her eyes and yawned. She was thoroughly exhausted, but happier than she could ever remember. Once again, Dickie had kept her up until the early hours. But this time, they weren’t just talking. She smiled, recalling his strong hands on her skin. The night had been magical. It was a giant cliché, but Betts hadn’t realised it could be so good. Gord always acted like she was doing him a favour by letting him paw at her. Now, her insides were like one of those giant spongy marshmallows after it had been microwaved – all gooey and warm – and she suspected Dickie felt the same.
Dickie looked up from the Belcherton Bugle and grinned, and Betts felt her heart soften all over again. ‘Give me some sugar, sugar.’ He tried to imitate her accent but just ended up sounding Indian, and the two of them giggled together.
Betts put a scoop of porridge in a chipped china bowl, slopped some syrup over the top and sat down beside Dickie at the table. ‘Big day today. I can’t believe the concert is tonight. It’s all happened so fast.’
‘You’ve been working hard to get everything ready. I’m sure it will go off without a hitch,’ Dickie said, patting her hand.
‘It should. I’ve checked and double-checked everything.’ It had been a much bigger job than Jay had led her to believe, but she’d done pretty well in the time they’d had. In fact, the whole thing had made her wonder if she should try event planning once she got back home. Going out to work would give her something to do and show the kids she could have a life, too.
Although she felt buoyed up at the thought of a new career, her heart sank again when she pictured leaving Dickie. But it was too soon to discuss anything beyond the day to day, and she didn’t want to push him. Once the festival was over, they’d have plenty of time to spend together and see where things went from there.
‘Do you think Willow’s ready for it?’ Dickie asked, concern creasing his brow. ‘I’ve barely seen her lately. You know, as busy as the shop is right now, I kind of miss the good old days when we could just relax and have a chat.’
‘I sure hope she’s ready,’ Betts answered, spooning porridge into her mouth. She’d been wondering the same thing. It was a lot for a seasoned performer to deal with, let alone a nice, quiet girl like Willow. Even Marilyn herself – a woman who craved attention like candy – had found fame hard to handle and tried her best to escape it. Betts jerked in surprise as she realised she hadn’t thought of Marilyn for at least a day. Once upon a time, Marilyn used to occupy her every waking minute.
‘Oh, here she is,’ Betts cried as Willow came down the stairs, looking resplendent in an emerald gown. Her hair was done to perfection and her face shone with newly applied make-up. ‘Don’t you look nice! All set for tonight?’
‘Of course she is.’ Jay followed after her, resting a hand on Willow’s shoulder. He threw Betts a warm grin, and she couldn’t help returning the smile. It was nice to see such a supportive man. ‘Any breakfast left?’
Betts plonked an extra scoop of porridge into a bowl for him. ‘Of course, honey. Take a seat.’
‘So what’s the plan for today?’ Willow asked, carefully inserting a small spoonful of porridge between her scarlet lips.
Jay sat down at the kitchen table and gave his bowl a vigorous stir. ‘Well, first of all, I need to run through all the songs with you again. Make sure you know the lyrics and additional choreography.’
‘Additional choreography?’ Willow nearly choked. Looking at Jay, Betts caught a brief flash of irritation on his face before he replaced it with another smile. The man must be nervous. It was an important day for him, as well.
‘Well, yes,’ Jay said evenly. ‘This is a big deal and you can’t just do those same lame moves. But don’t worry, there’s not much to learn. Once we’re done practising, I’ve got to go meet Dean Denner, the JFK impersonator you’ll be performing the finale with. He’s coming in by helicopter around two.’
‘Helicopter?’ Betts was impressed.
‘Yes, only the best for Dean,’ Jay responded. ‘It was one of his appearance demands.’ He turned to Willow. ‘That’s something you’ve got to look forward to, baby. Once you get big, you can tell people what you want and they’ve got to do it.’ He shoved in another spoonful of porridge. ‘I’ve hired a make-up and hair stylist to come here, Willow, to spruce you up for your grand entrance to the festival site. Charlie Tatty.’ He leaned back and looked at them smugly, obviously awaiting a response.
‘You know, the same bloke who did Anna Nicole Smith!’ Jay said finally, when it was clear no-one knew this Charlie man from Adam.
‘Ooooooh!’ Betts breathed. Anna Nicole Smith! Of course, she wasn’t in the same ballpark as Marilyn, but she had still been pretty glamorous.
‘Then we’ve got a sound check over at the festival site at four,’ he continued, ‘Willow, you’ll meet Madame Luna the psychic for a briefing at five, and the concert starts at seven.’ He turned to Betts. ‘Everything good to go on your end?’
‘Yes, everything’s set,’ she said, feeling proud at all she’d accomplished. ‘All the Portaloos are in place and every ice-cream van and French-fry vendor within a fifty-mile radius has been contracted. Lordy’s going to set up a special bar to serve drinks, too.’
‘Fantastic, Betts.’ Jay nodded approvingly.
‘And we’ve got five additional fields all ready for the extra
tents, with more loos and running water from the next town over,’ Betts carried on, eager to show him how much she’d done. ‘It’s a lot of work getting ready for what’s expected to be twenty thousand people, but I’ve really enjoyed it.’
Willow’s mouth dropped open and she swung toward Betts. ‘Twenty thousand?’
Betts nodded. Goodness, she did hope Willow was ready. ‘Yes, and those are conservative estimates. Granted, I’d say half of them are already here in the area.’
Jay pushed back his chair and dragged Willow up with him. ‘Come on. Let’s run through your songs and moves, and then I have to head over to the site. I’ll be back after your make-up with a surprise for you.’
Ooh, a surprise! Lucky girl. Betts grinned as she watched them go back up the stairs to Willow’s room. It was wonderful to see two youngsters so in tune with each other.
*
A few hours later, Willow’s body ached with exhaustion at all the rehearsing Jay had made her do. She had to admire his dedication to getting the best performance out of her, even while she was trembling with nerves at the thought of thousands of people watching. Twenty thousand, to be exact.
Willow lay on her bed and tried to rest before the make-up man arrived, but her mind was jumping with everything that had happened in the past few days. She hadn’t been able to sleep last night, either. When she’d returned from the site, Jay was waiting in the lounge. Dad and Betts had gone up to bed, one thing had led to another and it was safe to say the second time with Jay hadn’t been any better than the first.
It would improve, Willow was sure. They just needed to get to know each other better – maybe when things calmed down a bit, after the concert. Willow had tried to learn more about Jay by questioning him on life in London. But every time, he turned their talk back to Marilyn. And last night, right after making love, he’d actually started snoring while she’d been asking about his childhood.
She’d love to chat to someone about him, but the only person she could think of was Paula. She still couldn’t believe her friend had tried to drive a wedge between her and Jay. When Willow told Jay about it last night, he’d just shaken his head with an I-told-you-so expression.
‘Forget about Paula,’ he’d said, slinging a muscular arm around her. ‘You’ve got me now.’
But Willow couldn’t forget. And even though she did have Jay, without her best friend she was feeling . . . alone. Like she was out on a limb by herself. Why did she feel so lonely if she had Jay?
Willow beat the pillow with frustration and sat up. Time to get changed; the make-up guy would be arriving any second. She rolled off the bed and unzipped the garment bag Jay had hung on the back of the wardrobe.
Oh my God. No. No way was she wearing this! Dangling jauntily from the hanger was something that looked more swimming costume than dress, with black and white sequins – and feathers! At the bottom of the bag was a pair of long white gloves and some shiny patent leather heels. Willow gulped as she pulled out the garment and struggled to get the swimsuit cum costume over her prosthetic bum and fake bust. She was practically bursting out of it, likely the intended effect. Despite a striped kind of cape covering her butt cheeks, the feathers bustling out of the back of the dress made her bottom look even bigger than ever, and they waved in the air with every movement as if they were advertising her arse.
Oh Lord. She’d forgotten the black tights. Fifteen minutes later, she’d managed to put on the whole ensemble and she looked bloody ridiculous. It would be a major miracle if her breasts even managed to stay inside the costume, that’s how close they were to busting out – literally. Drenched with sweat, Willow was feeling more un-Marilyn-like than ever. How had that woman managed to look so glamorous all the time?
There was a loud knock at the front door, and Willow carefully manoeuvred herself and the feathers downstairs. With Betts and her father now rushing around with last-minute festival preparations, the house was empty and silent.
‘Who is it?’ she called.
‘It’s Charlie Tatty!’ a cheerful voice sang out. ‘Here to make up Marilyn!’
Willow swung open the door to reveal a skinny man in a gleaming white zoot suit. God, he’d certainly dressed up for the occasion.
‘Pleasure to meet you,’ she said, holding out a hand. Charlie ignored it and marched into the lounge, rolling a make-up case behind him. The bulging thing was almost as big as him.
‘No time to chat, darling,’ he said, opening the case and laying out his tools. ‘We need to get started. You’re hardly going to perform to a crowd like that.’ He grimaced as he stared at her make-up-free face, and irritation swirled inside. She wasn’t that bad without make-up!
‘Come on, we only have another thirty minutes until you need to leave.’ He motioned for her to sit on the sofa. ‘Nice outfit, by the way. Exactly what Marilyn wore when she made her grand entrance into the circus at Madison Square Garden.’
‘Really?’ Willow asked. ‘What made it so grand?’ Jay’s words about her own entrance to the festival site and his ‘surprise’ floated into her head. What had he planned now?
Charlie looked at her like she was an idiot. ‘The pink painted elephant, of course!’
‘Oh yes, of course,’ Willow said, sinking down onto the sofa in relief. Jay would never get an elephant to Belcherton, let alone a pink painted one . . . would he?
Thirty minutes later, Willow’s hair was picture perfect, her make-up was thicker than ever, and even her cleavage sparkled with some kind of bejewelled foundation. Charlie looked over at her with a grin.
‘Think I’m done now. I’ll see you backstage. Your man Jay has contracted me to do you and Dean Denner’s touch-ups, too. You’re a lucky girl, working with Dean. He’s incredible.’ Charlie’s sharp tone became admiring.
‘So I’ve heard,’ Willow said, her heart thumping. ‘I’ll see you there. And thank you,’ she added.
A wave of noise swept toward them and Charlie looked out the window. ‘And here it comes!’
‘Here what comes?’ No sooner had she asked than the sound of an elephant bellowing filled the room. No. Willow shook her head to clear it, but the elephant trumpeted again.
‘All set?’ Jay burst into the cottage and scanned her outfit. ‘Not bad, not bad. We’ve got everything ready out here for your parade to the site. Charlie, Dean’s waiting up there for you.’ Jay snapped his fingers and Charlie hurried out the door.
‘Jay, I’m feeling sort of nervous . . .’ A little reassurance and maybe a cuddle would be nice right about now.
‘No time for nerves.’ Jay dropped a business-like peck on her cheek then tugged down the bodice of her corset even further, nearly exposing a nipple. ‘We’re on a strict schedule here, Willow. Now come on. We’ve got to get you up on the elephant – I’ve only got it for an hour.’
‘Please tell me there’s not really an elephant. Isn’t that a bit over the top?’
‘When it comes to showbiz, baby, nothing is over the top.’ Jay grabbed her arm and propelled her toward the door. ‘Let’s go.’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE NOISE OF THE crowd rose to an ear-splitting level when the hordes spotted Willow. Instinctively, Willow stepped backwards into Jay, who nudged her forward again.
‘Smile,’ he whispered. ‘This is it! Welcome to the big time.’
Willow took a deep breath. Come on, she told herself. Just act like you’re Marilyn, and everything will be okay. Forcing a grin, she did feel better despite her trembling hands and pounding heart.
Her smiled flickered when she spotted a man leading a large elephant – coated in some kind of sickly pink paint – down the street. The poor animal looked as uncomfortable as she felt. Staring up into the creature’s unblinking eyes, she could have sworn a flash of understanding passed between them.
‘Ooh, an elephant!’ she managed to squeal to the waiting crowd. ‘Just like at Madison Square Garden!’ Thank God Charlie had given her that bit of information.
S
lowly and laboriously, the elephant lowered itself so she could clamber onto its back. After a short struggle to centre herself while keeping her boobs inside the dress, the animal rose to its full height. Popping flashes almost blinded her.
Whoa, Willow breathed as she looked out over the streets and fields of Belcherton. People, tents and media equipment packed every spare inch of space – punters could hardly move a limb from where they stood, squeezed like sardines. On the motorway leading to Belcherton, the sun glinted off a ribbon of cars snaking as far as she could make out, and local police were directing traffic around the village. The only spare bit of green was the festival site itself, cordoned off and protected by a human chain of staff in fluorescent vests.
The whole thing was insanity, and as the elephant lumbered through the narrow street, Willow tried not to think that everyone was there for one thing: to see her.
*
Cissy watched with horror as a revolting coloured elephant plodded down the high street with Willow perched on its back. She couldn’t believe things were still proceeding as normal! Well, if you could call a pink animal normal. Crimestoppers had said they’d pass on the information to the local immigration team straight away, but obviously ‘straight away’ meant after they’d consumed their biscuits and a gallon of tea.
She needed to do something else. Something big. Gaining access to the festival site now was out of the question; security would probably be too tight. It had to be a plan that could be implemented from outside the site, something that would disrupt the entire proceedings . . . something modern, an issue that resonated with everyone. Come on, Cissy, think!