Chapter 26
‘Hello, Sorcha. Come in and sit down. You look wonderful. Have you had your hair restyled?’
Sorcha picked her way through the piles of photos, envelopes and general mess that lay strewn on Audrey’s office carpet. She removed a pile of magazines from the chair in front of the desk and sat down.
‘Yes. They cut it for the baked beans shoot last week.’
‘Did they really? And did you ask for a fee?’
‘No. I didn’t know I should.’
‘Don’t worry. I’ll ring them. They know they have to agree a change of hairstyle beforehand, and pay you for it. However, it looks so nice that I think they’ve done you a favour.’
‘Thank you. Con liked it too.’
‘Good, good.’ Audrey removed her reading glasses, giving a clearer view of the huge brown eyes that had once made her the highest paid model of the forties. She placed her long, elegant fingers in a steeple and stared across the table at Sorcha. ‘Did you see the Woman’s Own spread last week?’
‘Yes.’
‘It looked very, very good. In fact, I’ve had five calls since yesterday asking about your availability.’ Audrey smiled widely. ‘I think the time has come to give up the day job, as it were.’
‘You mean leave Swan and Edgar’s?’
‘I think it would be safe to do so. There you go.’ Audrey handed Sorcha an envelope. ‘That might make you feel a little more comfortable. The cheque’s for quite a lot of money.’
‘Thank you.’ Sorcha took the envelope and put it in her handbag.
‘The sooner you leave, the better. How much notice do you have to give?’
‘A week.’
‘That’s perfect. I have two upcoming bookings confirmed in ten days, and three provisionals for the week after.
All good jobs. I’ve also had a telephone call from an advertising agency who saw your spread in Woman’s Own.
They’re looking for a girl to promote a new night-time drink.
It’ll be competing in the Horlicks, Ovaltine market.
They want a girl-next-door type rather than an out-and-out glamour puss. ’
Sorcha was in a daze. ‘I see.’
‘If you got the contract, it would make you famous, Sorcha. The company want to run a series of television advertisements along with billboard posters and pages in magazines. It would be a year’s exclusive work.
You’d be under contract to them and wouldn’t be able to take anything else.
We haven’t discussed money yet, but we’d be talking a big deal.
The gentleman I spoke to was extremely keen to see you for it. What do you think?’
Sorcha ran her hands through her hair. ‘It sounds grand, Audrey. But I suppose every model in London will be seen.’
‘They’re certainly casting around, yes. Shall I fix up a time for the end of this week? There’ll be a preliminary meeting with the advertising agency, and then, if they approve, a follow-up with the big guns from the company itself.’
‘Fine, but this week will have to be during my lunch hour or after work. I can’t let my boss down again, even if I am handing in my notice. She’s been very good to me.’
‘I understand. I’ll let you know when and where.’ Audrey gave a warm chuckle as Sorcha stood up. ‘I should go and spend some of that cheque on a special present for yourself. You’re doing awfully well, dear.’
‘Thank you.’
The telephone on Audrey’s desk rang.
‘Can you see yourself out?’
‘Of course.’
Audrey waved as she picked up the receiver.
Outside the office, Sorcha reached into her bag and pulled out the envelope she had been given.
Tearing it open, she read the amount on the cheque.
It would take her four months to earn the same at Swan and Edgar’s.
A feeling of disbelief washed over her as she carefully returned the cheque to its envelope and stowed it away in an interior pocket of her bag.
A strong breeze was blowing, which brought Sorcha out of her daydream. She glanced at her watch. It was ten past six, and she was meeting Con at seven in their favourite bar. She shivered and pulled her cardigan closer around her shoulders before hurrying down the street.
The shops were still open on Carnaby Street.
Sorcha made for the warmth of a boutique.
She leafed through the racks of dresses and pulled out a couple that appealed.
Five minutes later, after slipping off her clothes in the curtained changing room, she pulled on a dress which was short and woollen.
Drawing back the curtain so she could survey herself in the big communal mirror, Sorcha stopped in her tracks.
Standing by the till talking to the shopgirl was someone so familiar that Sorcha’s initial reaction was to step back and hide before she was spotted.
Surely it couldn’t be?
Gingerly, Sorcha pulled the curtain back a couple of inches and peered through the gap. The young woman had her back to Sorcha. Her hair was different and she was much slimmer . . . Until she saw her face again, she couldn’t be sure.
Sorcha watched as the woman took her change and her plastic bag and walked out of the boutique.
‘Okay, lads, take a listen.’ Brad pressed the button on the panel and the studio was filled with music.
The four group members listened silently until the song was finished.
‘So, what do you think?’
Brad stared at them.
‘It’s feckin’ grand, Brad, that’s what it is,’ said Con.
The others shared their agreement.
‘You’re happy with the new instrumentations in the middle eight?’
‘Very happy.’ Con nodded. ‘It’s improved it no end.’
‘Great. We’ll cut the single. In a couple of weeks’ time, I’ll be able to show you your first piece of vinyl.
I think we’re on to a winner, boys!’ Brad spun boyishly on his swivel chair.
‘I’m going to discuss it with Freddy but I think we might put the single forward to be played on Juke Box Jury at the end of November.
The television show is great publicity.’
Todd looked nervous. ‘Even if the jury trash the song?’
Brad shrugged. ‘We have to cross our fingers they won’t.
Anyway, I gotta dash back to the office.
Please can everyone be here at ten tomorrow so we can have a good couple of hours working on track seven?
I’d like to lay it down in the afternoon.
We’ve only got six weeks until the launch. ’ He jumped to his feet.
‘Sure. Bye, Brad.’
‘Cheers, boys. You did good today, really good.’ With a wave, he disappeared out of the control box.
Con spotted Sorcha sitting on a stool amongst the noisy throng of Hades bar.
‘Hello, my love.’ He threw his arms around her shoulders and kissed her.
‘Hello, darling. I got you a beer.’ Sorcha pointed to the glass on the counter, then took a sip of her gin. Con squeezed in beside her.
‘Is that a new dress?’
‘Yes. Audrey gave me a large cheque and I decided to treat myself.’
‘I’d say you were right to do so.’ Con took a sip of his beer. ‘We’ve finally finished “Can Someone Tell Me Where She’s Gone?”’
‘And?’
‘It sounds brilliant. Just grand,’ he grinned.
‘I’m so pleased.’
Con studied Sorcha. Although she looked as pretty as always, and the soft green of the new woollen dress matched her eyes, her face was pale and she seemed distracted.
‘Are you okay, sweetheart?’
‘Yes, yes, I’m fine, why?’
‘You look . . . strange, that’s all.’
‘Do I? It’s just that . . . no . . .’ Sorcha shook her head. ‘I’m being an eejit, really.’
‘Come on now, you can tell me. What is it?’ He reached across the table and took her hand.
Sorcha sighed. ‘You’ll tell me I’m being stupid, but I was in a boutique down the street trying on this dress and I thought I saw Helen.’
Con frowned. ‘Helen who?’
‘Helen McCarthy, from Ballymore.’
Sorcha watched Con’s face shift from puzzlement to unease. ‘Right. Well. Was it her?’
‘I don’t know. By the time I’d looked again she’d turned around and I couldn’t catch a glimpse of her face.’ Sorcha shrugged and shook her head. ‘It probably wasn’t her. I mean, this woman was much thinner and smarter and her hair was different, but—’
‘Now what would Helen McCarthy be doing in a boutique in Carnaby Street? You obviously just saw someone that looked like her.’
‘She really did, Con, I swear.’
Con let go of Sorcha’s hand, seemingly a little agitated. ‘Well, even if it was her, what’s the harm? She and Ballymore are long in our past.’
‘I know.’ Sorcha sighed. ‘It was so odd. When I saw her, I felt like a ghost was walking over my grave. I don’t know why it’s unsettled me so much.’
Con softened again, putting his arms tightly around Sorcha’s shoulders.
She snuggled into him. ‘There, there, Sorcha.’ He stroked her hair lovingly.
‘You worrying that you might have seen Helen McCarthy when we have so much to look forward to. Everything is starting to go right for us now. I think you look for things to worry over.’
‘You’re right.’ Sorcha straightened herself up and shook her head in a visible attempt to remove the tension hanging over her.
‘And Audrey had some good news for me. She wants me to leave Swan and Edgar’s.
I have five bookings in the next three weeks and a very big interview for a grand job later this week.
It’s to promote a new malt drink. Audrey says it will make me famous if I get it. ’
‘Quite the career woman, aren’t you now?’ Con teased.
She looked at him anxiously. ‘You are happy for me, aren’t you?’
‘Of course I am, Sorcha. I can’t say I’m finding it easy that you’re so much your own woman, but I am learning to live with it, even if I might prefer you barefoot, pregnant and in the kitchen . . .’
‘Are you serious?’
‘Do I look it?’ Con chuckled and planted a kiss on her forehead. ‘I’m starving. What about treating your man to a dinner at that restaurant around the corner? We can sit and dream about number-one singles and fame and fortune.’
Sorcha picked up her gin and swallowed what remained in the glass in one go.
As she put it down, Con saw the colour had returned to her cheeks and her eyes were sparkling.
He felt he had navigated that well, despite the fear in his own belly.
If Helen was in London, and she and Sorcha were to meet without his presence to control the situation .
. . the consequences didn’t bear thinking about.
‘Con Daly, you got yourself a deal.’