The High Life (The Mercury Travel Club #3)

Chapter Eighteen Yankee Doodle Dandy

‘You are never going to believe this,’ Patty yells down the phone as I’m opening the door to the shop. ‘Frankie rang me up and asked me to do a one-off gig.’

‘Wow, first TV and now singing, you’re in demand.’ I shake off my jacket. It’s a very warm day already and I’ve dressed for comfort rather than the season.

‘You’ll never guess who for. Are you sitting down?’

I tell her that I am and roll my eyes at Charlie, not knowing quite what to expect next.

‘OK then, your friend across the road has just tried to hire me to sing at Launch later this week.’

I am so gobsmacked I can’t pull together a response. Patty has to check several times that I’m still on the line. I beckon Charlie over and put the phone on speaker.

‘Say that again Patty,’ I croak and she does so for Charlie’s benefit.

‘Why?’ he manages to ask.

‘Because I’m a born entertainer and worth every penny,’ Patty says, missing the point a little.

‘No, I mean what would you be singing? Why does he want singers in the store?’

‘It’s for a promotion, a Fourth of July thing. I was asked to do some American songs like “Chicago”, “New York, New York” and “I Left My Heart in San Francisco” — that kind of thing.’

‘Tell me you said no,’ I plead.

‘Of course I did,’ huffs Patty. ‘I’m no traitor but I thought you’d want to know.’

We thank her and ring off.

‘Well, at least we know what he’s doing next,’ Charlie says looking at the calendar.

It is the Fourth of July in a couple of days and it is a good sales idea. We should have thought of it.

‘He’ll be able to get other singers, so I doubt the lack of Patty will scupper his plans. What should we do?’

‘Get the flags out,’ says Charlie. ‘We know how to throw a party just as much as he does.’

When Josie comes in, we brief her on the plans we’ve just discovered and over the coming days we start to deck the shop with red, white and blue bunting. We dig out some road-movie themed music and we gather all our US offers to have ready for customers coming in. Across the road we notice some comings and goings but there doesn’t seem to be too much action.

By the time the fourth of July arrives, I start wondering whether he did abandon the idea after all. It doesn’t matter now — we’ve started so we have to forget about Lorenzo and get on with selling these trips. Fortunately there’s something in the States for everyone, so whether people want cities, mountains or beaches, we have great trips to show them.

We’re mentioning some of the ideas we have to the first customers of the day when suddenly there’s a huge noise outside. We all rush to the window to see that while we’ve been working, TV camera crews have set up and are filming a marching band complete with baton-twirling majorettes coming down the road. Everyone has stopped to watch them. Naturally, they come to a halt at Launch and perform some acrobatics before taking a bow and disbanding to a huge round of applause. Then, from out of the store, street vendors stroll out with trays bearing pretzels, which the crowd are more than happy to accept. A couple of people browsing in our shop make embarrassed noises and head over the road.

‘He puts on a good show, I’ll say that for him,’ says Charlie.

‘It doesn’t mean people will buy a trip,’ adds Josie. ‘They’re not going inside yet.’

It’s true, they’re not as yet. Lorenzo seems to have created a party on his doorstep but it seems to be staying there at the moment.

‘I’m going out there,’ says Josie, and she takes some of our offer leaflets and we watch as she walks among the crowds handing out our details and pointing to the shop. She succeeds in getting a few customers into the shop, their hands still full of pretzel.

Of course it doesn’t end there. I’m trying to concentrate on our own business but none of us can when we spot Tom Cruise grinning and shaking hands with the good people of Manchester. Of course it’s not the real Tom Cruise but a really good lookalike. And he’s so good that from here I can hear Charlie’s heart beating faster.

‘Would it be really bad if I go across and have a selfie with him?’ he pleads, both of us knowing it would be awful but that he’ll end up doing it anyway. I shrug and he heads out leaving me alone in the shop.

Tom Cruise is joined by Elvis, Lady Gaga and Donald Trump — who seems to be getting the most requests for selfies. Then the Rat Pack turn up and start crooning away. This was a much better option than Patty, I think rather disloyally.

‘Are you doing these offers to America, too?’ asks a customer who’s battled her way into the shop.

I tell her that we are, that we can match any offer and we can do it in a more sedate setting.

‘That’s a relief,’ says the customer. ‘It’s all good fun over there but you can’t get through the crowds. It’s nice that you’re so quiet.’

I smile in that awkward way you do when you get a backhanded compliment. It’s the equivalent of the mean girls at school saying ‘You’re so lucky you’re not popular — I just get no time to myself.’ Although I know this customer doesn’t mean any offence to us at all.

‘Sit yourself down and we’ll get your trip arranged, calmly and quietly,’ I reassure her.

We start to discuss what she’s looking for and as I only have one customer in the store I can focus on her needs completely. I feel like Nero fiddling while Rome burns but I can now understand why he just wanted to keep out of the way.

‘Are you offering the free insurance?’ asks the customer, before explaining that today Lorenzo is giving free travel insurance on all US bookings. I try my best not to sigh with despair.

‘Do you need insurance?’ I ask her and am relieved when she tells me she doesn’t. I promise to try and get her a room upgrade instead and she leaves happy — and we’ve made our only booking of the day.

I look out at the street party still going on. Charlie has left Tom Cruise and is helping Josie with the leafleting but it seems that although people are taking the flyers from them, they’re also putting them in the bin as soon as their backs are turned. Lorenzo is bound to be cutting prices as well as offering this free insurance, so why would they go elsewhere? I wish I knew how he could afford to do all of this. Oh no. My eyes are drawn to a commotion at the edge of the crowd. A circle of people starts to form. They have their phones out and are evidently amused by the scene in front of them. It’s a scene which seems to involve Donald Trump and... my mother. I have to go and get her. I lock up the shop and rush over to hear her lecturing the orange man in the blond wig.

‘You do know you’re wrong about this climate thing, don’t you?’ she’s telling him. ‘Those poor polar bears have nowhere to rest.’

Mum’s knowledge of global warming comes pretty much exclusively from BBC documentaries, so I’m guessing the lecture will focus on animals.

‘And you lot eat too many of those burgers. They’re very bad for the planet.’

Trump tells her that’s nonsense.

‘No, it’s not,’ protests my mum very loudly. ‘It’s all those cows — belching and trumping like troopers.’ She thinks about it and adds, ‘Was that named after you? Trumping?’

The Trump actor raises his palms to the sky and says something about ‘making trumping great again’, which has the crowd in hysterics and my mum indignant. I rush in and pull her away, trying desperately to hide my face.

‘I had to tell him,’ Mum says as I’m dragging her away.

‘He’s an actor — you didn’t have to tell him anything,’ I cry out.

I pull her back towards the shop to see a couple of potential customers pointing at something on our front door, then turning away. Lord knows we can’t afford to have people leaving us. When I reach the door I see that someone has put up a huge hand-written notice saying SHOP CLOSED. It doesn’t take a genius to work out who might have done this, so I take a look across at Launch, and sure enough, Lorenzo is there, pointing an imaginary shotgun in my direction. I rip the notice down as Charlie and Josie return, bringing some of our regulars with them. I can’t risk letting Mum out again, so I instruct her to make us some coffees. Once again we settle down to make the most of what’s left of our day.

‘Keep pedalling, Ange,’ I tell myself. ‘Keep pedalling.’