Chapter 55
The Fishermen had been asked to arrive at the stadium by four o’clock. Backstage, the chaos was unbelievable.
‘Blimey, listen to that roar.’ Todd was peering through a crack in one of the flats backstage, watching a well-known band finish their set.
‘The sound of eighty thousand people,’ smiled Freddy. ‘You’ve performed to larger audiences in the past.’
‘Never with such a great atmosphere, though.’
‘Helped by the weather of course.’ Ian looked up at the crystal-blue sky. ‘Can you imagine if it had pissed down?’
‘With the atmosphere that’s out there today I think it could have snowed and it wouldn’t have mattered.’
‘Want to go into the guest box and watch for a while?’ Freddy suggested.
‘Sure. We have hours yet,’ said Con.
‘I won’t. I’m waiting for someone actually, so I’ll hang around here,’ replied Derek.
‘Okay,’ said Todd. ‘Join us there.’
‘Will do.’
The guest box was crammed with politicians, royalty and a number of the stars taking part in the concert. Champagne was flowing.
‘Twenty million pledged so far.’ Johnny looked haggard but elated. ‘We should easily triple that in the next few hours. New York is just about to kick in.’
‘What a day,’ enthused Todd. ‘It was a dream of an idea, Johnny.’
‘But it was you lot giving your support that has really made it come together.’
‘Hello, Todd.’
The familiar voice behind him made him shiver. He turned around. ‘Lulu.’
She reached forward and kissed him on both cheeks. ‘How are you? You look well.’
‘I am, very. What brings you here?’
‘I had some PR to do in London and thought I’d pop in today to see some old friends.’
‘Excuse me. I’ll leave you two to it.’ Johnny nodded and disappeared.
‘This is turning into a real reunion.’ Todd tried to maintain his cool.
‘It is. How is the one that’s newly returned?’
‘He’s over there talking to the prime minister. I doubt whether he knows who she is,’ he smiled.
‘Has Con told you where he went?’
‘Not in any great detail. Anyway, how are you? You look fantastic.’
‘Thanks. I’m fine, just fine.’
‘The life of a Hollywood star must be suiting you.’
‘Sort of . . . yes . . . It’s pleasant. But I really miss . . . London.’ Lulu gave him a warm smile.
Todd responded in kind.
‘Well, if I say it myself, I’ve done a good job.’
The hairdresser stood behind her and showed Helen the back of her head. ‘A one-hundred-per-cent improvement, don’t you think, duckie?’
Helen smiled. The shiny bob took years off her. Matched with the slimming suit and the carefully applied make-up, no one from prison would recognise her.
‘Yes, thank you.’
She went to the desk and handed over some pound notes.
A roar of applause came over the radio.
‘Thanks, love,’ said the hairdresser. ‘Tell you what, I’d rather be at Wembley than sweating it out here today. It sounds fantastic.’
‘As a matter of fact, that’s where I’m heading.’ Helen dug in her bag and pulled out her official Metropolitan Records pass. She pinned it onto her lapel. ‘I’m a record company executive.’
‘Are you really? Lucky old you. Off to hobnob with the great and the good while I stare at greasy scalps for the afternoon. Have a good time.’
‘I will.’ She smiled at him and left the salon.
‘You came! I was beginning to wonder . . .’ He stared at her, eyes agog. Clearly his feelings hadn’t changed.
‘Of course I did.’
‘It’s lovely to see you. You look . . . so beautiful.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Let’s go and join the others. I think a glass of champagne is in order.’
He offered her his elbow. She smiled at him, took it and they walked off in the direction of the guest box.
‘Excuse me, madam, can I see your pass?’
‘Of course.’ Helen flashed her lapel badge at the security guard, who shook his head. ‘No, madam, your pass for today.’
‘Oh, that one.’ Helen fumbled in her handbag as the guard surveyed her. ‘I can’t find it.’
‘Well, I’m afraid that I can’t let you in.’
‘What? This is ridiculous! I’m the head of Metropolitan Records! The Fishermen are expecting me.’
‘Are they now?’ He’d heard every line in the book today.
‘Look, I can’t find my pass, but I tell you what I do have.’ Helen pulled a couple of photos out of her wallet. ‘There you go. Me with The Fishermen at Metropolitan after we’d signed the new contract.’
The guard studied them.
‘Very nice too, but it doesn’t get you through here today.’
Helen stood in an agony of frustration. Short of knocking him out cold with her fists, there was no way she could get past him.
A large limousine pulled up at the entrance to the tunnel. Out of the back spilled several young men dressed in bright Day-Glo tracksuits.
‘Blimey, it’s the Seven Wonders. My kids love ’em.’
The entrance was suddenly mobbed by a horde of teenage fans.
‘This way, gentlemen,’ the security guard beamed as the group reached the entrance. ‘Excuse me, sir, could I have your autograph for my little girl? She’s your biggest fan.’ The guard fumbled in his jacket for a piece of paper and a pencil. He handed them to the young man.
‘Could you write it to Tracy?’ His head bent over as he watched the star scribble on the paper.
It was only as the guard was folding the precious scrap into his wallet that he realised the woman in the blue suit had vanished. He shrugged and thought of Tracy’s face when he handed her the autograph.
Used to being backstage, Helen blended into the general milieu.
She was amazed at the number of faces she recognised, and desperately hoped that recognition wouldn’t be mutual.
She checked her watch. Half past eight. The Fishermen were due on at nine, but she could not see them amongst the crowd.
She deposited herself in a chair in the corner of the hospitality tent and waited.
‘Come on, chaps. Twenty minutes to go. Time to make a move.’ Freddy rounded up his group.
‘Right, ladies, are you staying here where you’ll get a better view or do you want to come and watch from the side?’ Freddy glanced at Ian’s wife, Lulu and the attractive blonde who’d attached herself to Derek.
‘From the side, I think,’ said Virginia.
‘Fine. Let’s go.’
The Fishermen walked companionably along the tunnel that led backstage.
‘You ladies amuse yourself in the hospitality tent while I take the boys for a pep talk,’ suggested Freddy. ‘We’ll come and collect you when it’s time. Come on, gentlemen. Follow me.’
Helen saw her as soon as she walked in.
‘Jesus,’ she breathed. Even now, she couldn’t believe she’d been right.
Helen sat and watched them as they laughed and chatted together over a glass of champagne. What to do now? She’d no hard-and-fast plan. She could hardly go up to the nearest security guard and say that there was every chance that the woman over there was about to murder Con Daly.
She watched as Freddy returned and shepherded the women out of the tent. Helen followed, a discreet distance behind. The sky was beginning to darken and, thankfully, it was shadowy backstage.
She saw Con first, then Todd and Derek come up from the dressing room and into the wings. She pressed herself back against one of the flats as she tried to clear her brain, her eyes never leaving the woman only yards from her.
‘Two minutes, gentlemen,’ said an exhausted PA.
Con moved towards the side of the stage, hands in pockets.
Lulu followed him.
Ian drifted towards Con, his arm around his wife.
Helen looked on as she moved with Derek towards the group at the side of the stage.
Only Todd stood alone, staring moodily into the distance just yards from her.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, very shortly now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for.’
It was now or never. She had to do something.
She ran forward towards Todd and grabbed his arm.
‘Todd, it’s Helen, Helen McCarthy.’
Todd turned around, a mixture of horror and surprise on his face.
‘Jesus, Helen! What the fuck are you doing here?’
‘Listen, you see that woman over there? She’s after Con.
I still can’t work out why. I think she and Con must have had an affair at some point and she was bitter, but all I know is she killed Sorcha and now she’s after Con.
I know you think I’m crazy but you have to believe me. You have to stop her, Todd.’
‘I . . .’ Todd looked at her in confusion. ‘I don’t know what you’re going on about, Helen, but now is not the time or the place for this. And as for Peggy having an affair with Con, I—’
Helen stared at Todd. ‘Peggy? Did you call that woman Peggy?’
‘Yes. She’s Derek’s old girlfriend. You must have heard him mooning on about her. She turned up here tonight out of the blue.’
Peggy, Peggy, Peggy . . .
Helen struggled to work it out.
‘I’m going to have to have someone remove you, Helen. If Con sees you, he’ll blow a gasket.’ Todd was looking around nervously for someone official.
Helen watched as the woman moved away from the huddle at the side of the stage and into the shadows. She opened her handbag.
‘Oh, Jesus, oh, Jesus,’ she breathed.
‘Excuse me, mate, this lady has no business here. Can you have her removed?’ Todd moved forward, glancing nervously at Helen.
‘Madam, would you please come this way?’
In slow motion Helen saw the handgun being drawn out of the bag.
‘Thirty seconds, boys.’
‘Madam, please. I don’t want to have to remove you by force.’
Helen watched her, expecting her to move forward and aim the gun at Con. But she stayed where she was.
Peggy, Peggy, Peggy . . .
‘Ten seconds and you’re on.’
‘Come on, madam.’ The security guard reached for her and took her by the elbow.
She lifted the gun and aimed it at the person standing directly in front of her.
‘Todd! Todd! It’s not Con she’s after, it’s Derek!’ Helen yelled as the security guard began to pull her towards the exit. ‘Derek, move! For God’s sake, move!’
He couldn’t hear her. The screaming from the audience had reached fever pitch.
Wrenching herself out of the security guard’s grasp, Helen dived forward, throwing herself between Derek’s back and the gun.
‘You’re on!’
The gun went off.
Helen slumped to the ground.
‘Bloody hell!’ Todd and Derek turned at the sound of the shot. Con and Ian had already begun walking onto the stage.
‘Peggy, what on earth . . .’ Derek stared in astonishment as he saw the gun, still smoking in her hand.
‘You killed him, you bastard, didn’t you?’
Derek’s face turned white. ‘What?’
‘Tony! My darling Tony. If you couldn’t have me, then no one else could, isn’t that right? You sad little weirdo!’
Todd was signalling to the security guard to alert his colleagues immediately. He pushed Lulu and Virginia out of harm’s way, terrified at the sight of the gun now pointed directly at Derek.
‘Jesus, what is going on? We need you on stage. I—’ Johnny stopped short as he saw Helen on the floor and the gun in the woman’s hands.
‘Okay, okay, I’ll go and talk to Con and the crowd, keep things going for a bit.’
‘Peggy, I really don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Stop calling me Peggy!’ she screamed. ‘I hate it. That was my stupid little nickname at school. My name is Maggie! Maggie! Maggie! Short for Margaret! Do you hear me?!’ she screamed.
‘Okay, okay, Maggie. I’m sorry.’
Derek watched as she waved the gun around, tears streaming down her cheeks.
‘You should be dead. I thought I’d killed you before, but you turned out to be Con. I didn’t understand it. But I can kill you now, can’t I?’
Derek saw the bunch of burly security guards coming up behind her.
‘Maggie . . . I didn’t kill your Tony . . . he . . . I . . .’ Derek’s breathing quickened.
‘You did kill him, I know you did. I know . . .’
‘Duck, Derek!’ screamed Todd as the security men grabbed her from behind. Arms flailing, Maggie pulled the trigger and three bullets ricocheted off the flats at the side of the stage.
‘Okay, okay, lady.’ One of the guards wrestled with her until he had the gun in his possession. ‘We’ll take her and lock her up until the police arrive.’
‘God, oh, God.’ Derek was crouching on the floor, head in his hands.
Todd knelt next to Helen. He felt for a pulse. ‘Someone better call an ambulance and fast. Lulu, come and stay with her until it arrives.’ He moved to Derek. ‘You okay, mate?’
Derek knew he needed to remain as calm as possible. ‘Yeah, yeah, sure.’
‘Look, I don’t know what the hell she was talking about, but there’s a billion people waiting to see our ugly mugs out there. The show must go on, as they say. Can you make it?’
Derek looked up at Todd and smiled weakly. He had no choice. Act. Normal.
‘Sure.’