Chapter 22
The following morning, I’m up and ready to face the music. This has to be one of the most bizarre weeks of my entire life. The Royal Northern Sinfonia have summoned me to attend a briefing. It’s a performance review. Like they do with all new staff after their first tour with them. I’m almost certain they’ve never had a singer cause so much trouble in their seventy-year history.
‘What time is your performance review at The Glasshouse today?’ Ged asks me, coming into the kitchen. ‘Need a lift?’
‘No, thanks,’ I say, handing him his first coffee of the day. He is a little late for work, and we are all hungover after last night’s end of tour party, which was then followed by a twenty-seven-minute rant from Liberty about us interfering with her rights to the throne of Norway. She started when we ordered the Ubers and was still ranting as they pulled up, and we all piled in. Thankfully, Liberty was in a car with Big Sue who was having none of it.
‘Are you sure? Because I’m driving to work that way?’ he says, taking a grateful sip.
‘I could do with the fresh air, so I’ll walk,’ I say. ‘And sorry about being stroppy last night. This whole Luke thing has thrown me.’
Ged’s face softens into a caring smile. ‘I’m used to it. Wouldn’t have you any other way.’
I make him a heart shape with my hands, and he makes one back.
‘Good luck. I’m sure it’ll all work out.’
I stand in front of the Royal Northern Sinfonia executive board members as they sit around an elaborate semi-circle-shaped desk made of highly polished, expensive walnut. The Chief Exec of the Royal Northern Sinfonia has just outlined his objections to my staying on as lead vocalist, to the stiff-looking colleagues sitting on either side of him. Mr Faberhouse is acting as though he has never seen me before.
‘However, after careful consideration… and much deliberation… we have come to a decision.’ The Chief Exec shuffles some papers in front of him. He’s really labouring the point even though I have explained many times that the tabloid headlines had nothing to do with me.
In fact, now that I’m here and taking in their pious faces, I’m not sure I really want to go through another tour with them. But I do have bills to pay and the expensive trip to Las Vegas coming up. And, hopefully, if all goes well, Matteo and I will be flying back and forth to see one another in Spain, LA and other exotic locations. And, of course, Ged and Liam will want to have their wedding shortly after the pre-moon spree, which I’m sure will be somewhere equally as glamorous and expensive.
‘You know, we never have any of this bother with our other lead vocalists,’ he flaps a dismissive hand in my direction.
His words pinch at my heart.
I take a deep breath in. ‘It’s okay,’ I say, holding up my hands. ‘I completely understand. Even though, none of you seem to accept that the tabloids were not my fault. You seem very eager to blame me in some way.’
I have their undivided attention.
‘Whoever sent in those photos must have been doing some major stalking. Because they would have leaked that to the press at 2am, in time for the morning news. And the other leaks, who is behind them? It certainly wasn’t me. If I were you, I’d be looking into it. You obviously have a mole in the organisation.’
They furrow their brows as I explain, sliding their eyes back and forth to each other in a concerned manner.
‘I think I’d be better off with the London Sinfonia. You never hear of this sort of thing happening down there. They have proper safeguarding in place for their staff.’
I see their startled faces flush with panic. The London Sinfonia is their biggest rival. The Chief Exec suddenly doesn’t seem so smug.
‘We have decided that in light of your extraordinary talent,’ he says, eyeing the other two, ‘we’d be delighted to keep you on as lead vocalist.’
I’m not sure.
‘You are by far the most surprising young voice we’ve heard for a decade.’
‘Well, that’s very nice of you to say.’ I can feel myself softening. ‘But –’
‘And we’d match the salary we are paying the Count, of course.’ He scribbles a figure down on his notebook and turns it to face me.
Wow. I can’t deny the money and the kudos is very appealing.
‘I’d need reassurance that you are going to investigate who is behind all these leaks. I have my own reputation to think about,’ I say firmly.
‘Of course. Of course. And you’d have full access to wardrobe. Just ask Dolly for whatever you need for the next tour.’
Ooh, that’s very tempting.
‘Let me think about it. I’ll let you know later today,’ I watch as they all squirm.
‘We look forward to hearing from you,’ says the Chief Executive firmly. ‘The next tour will be in Europe, if that helps make up your mind.’
Keeping the excitement from showing on my face, I manage, ‘Thank you. I’ll bear it in mind.’
I walk out of there a foot taller.
I am a friggin’ hashtag boss lady.
‘How did it go?’ Dolly asks, sitting opposite me in a nearby coffee shop on the quayside.
I peer out over the River Tyne and the Millenium Bridge arching over it, coming to rest at the feet of the old flour mill, now home to trendy artworks and a rooftop restaurant. It’s in stark contrast to the neighbouring Glasshouse, a giant shining dome reflecting the blue sky and dominating the skyline, home to my new career. I see my reflection in the glass. I am vibrant. Strong. Grown up.
‘They want me to stay on.’
‘They do? That’s great,’ says Dolly a fraction too quickly.
‘Yeah. I kind of pushed them into a corner over investigating the newspaper leaks on tour. I think it changed their minds about sacking me.’ I can’t help but feel proud for standing up for myself. ‘They want to avoid any further scandal. So, I’m staying. Apparently, the next tour is across Europe. How amazing is that?’
Dolly fiddles with her coffee, stirring sugar into it. ‘Good for you, pet. You’ll love Europe. The tours are always… I was going to say wild but after this one, I’m not so sure. And the costumes are always more elaborate. You’ll love them. I have some ideas in mind already.’ She’s deliberately not making eye contact.
‘Wait. You knew they’d keep me?’
She looks up.
‘How?’ I ask. Her face is a dead give-away.
‘Luke threatened to quit if they didn’t keep you.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Apparently, Luke told the Chief Exec that if they fired you, he’d quit anyway.’
I let this sink in.
‘But why? Why would he do that for me? I didn’t need him to do that. I was bossing the shit out of it.’
Gah! Luke is so fecking annoying. I can’t even think of a word to describe how infuriated I am with him right now.
She shrugs.
‘There has to be more to it. Why would a royal person be remotely interested in me? He could have any woman in the world. Any royal woman in fact. Why would he go to such lengths to sing with me? Why would he threaten to quit?’
Dolly stares blankly back.
‘Come on, Dolly. You know him. Why would he give me a family heir loom? He barely knows me.’
‘I think you need to speak to the Maestro about the locket.’
‘He’s the second last person I’d want to speak to. Why? What would he have to do with anything?’
‘He’s Luke’s godfather. And, technically, the locket belonged to him. As for Luke defending you to the council, I think he has genuine feelings for you, and just wants to make things right.’
‘This day just keeps getting stranger and stranger,’ I say to Ged, later that evening. He is pacing up and down our living room. All he needs is a pipe and a deerstalker hat.
‘So, if Luke is the Maestro’s godson, that must mean the Sinfonia are doing the Norwegians a huge favour. Perhaps in return for some generous Arts funding? Maybe Luke’s parents have asked his godfather to keep an eye on him, and him singing on tour keeps him out of trouble?’
‘Yes. Yes, that’s it,’ joins in Liam, excitedly. ‘Luke is the wild card of the family. The black sheep. The difficult second child. The oddball. They have shipped him off. I wonder what he has done to warrant being sent here to Newcastle.’
‘Must be really bad,’ Ged agrees.
‘You lost me at Arts funding,’ I say, putting a stop to the speculating and endless clichés. ‘But we don’t have to worry about Luke, or Count Nikolai or whatever he’s really called, because I won’t be seeing him again until the next tour. Which, thankfully, is months away. Besides, when we get back from Las Vegas, I’ll buy another locket and return the antique one to the Maestro. Let’s just forget all about it for now and concentrate on having a great time in Benidorm and then Las Vegas.’
‘Quite right. We have much bigger things to worry about.’ Liam starts jumping up and down. ‘How did you get on shopping today?’
They peer at my cases, all packed and ready to go. ‘Have you got everything?’ Ged asks, getting out his checklist to supervise me.
I nod. ‘Cherry is bringing all the Barbie and Ken outfits with her to Benidorm for us to try on.’
‘What about the pink glitter cowboy hats?’ Ged asks.
‘Big Sue has those. They have a picture of you two kissing on them,’ I assure him.
‘And the Elton John big heart sunglasses?’
‘Tash is in charge of those. She also has the ‘last night of freedom’ satin sashes, the deely boppers, the handlebar moustaches and a wide range of inflatables.’
‘Good. Good,’ says Ged, famous micromanager that he is. ‘And I assume it’s all vacuum-packed in with the hold luggage? They’ll never let us through security with all of that stuff.’
I nod. Thank God for next-day delivery. Vague memories come back to me of The Dollz getting stopped at security and all their sex toys and fake tan being taken off them. They were livid. ‘I’ve hidden them amongst the clothes.’
We are all flying to Benidorm tomorrow morning with The Dollz. Ged and Liam are back staying in the granny flat annexe of the villa because the hotel they were thinking of booking refused to let them sunbathe naked on their balcony. The Dollz are in the main villa.
‘I can’t wait to have an all-over tan,’ says Liam excitedly. ‘I’ve bought us that heavy-duty, deep mahogany tan accelerator off TikTok. We’ll look amaze!’
Ged rolls his eyes.
While they lie sizzling away turning the colour of a creosote, me and The Dollz will be gigging at Voices and Benidorm Palace before we all fly out to Las Vegas together.
This is the bit I have yet to get my head around. I open Nancy’s email on my phone. She has booked us to do three nights in Vegas over the course of a week, plus the dubious thing we need to do for Eddie at Talent Star. We are also doing Ged and Liam’s pre-moon spree by day, and on the alternate nights. While I am also trying to enjoy a romantic break with Matteo, so that we can spend some much-needed time together.
My heart starts racing at the stress of it all. There just aren’t enough hours in the day to squeeze it all in.
I have still not plucked up the courage to tell him.
But I will.
I will.
PING.
Matteo’s name flashes onto my screen. He is messaging to let me know that he will be unexpectedly free tomorrow for a few hours if I’m available to facetime.
‘What’s wrong?’ Ged asks.
I show him the text.
‘But that’s a good thing, isn’t it?’ he says, sounding confused.
I blink rapidly. ‘Yes. Yes, absolutely.’
‘Then why do you look so worried?’ He screws his eyes at me. ‘You have told him we’re all coming to Vegas, haven’t you?’