Chapter 10 #4
I stop driving and pull into a lay-by. I’ve got forty minutes left before pick-up.
In truth, I needed this time. Needed to think through the shitshow that I’d found myself in.
I hadn’t even thought about the CCTV footage.
Then again, I had been drunk. I know things are bad with the business.
I’ve been borrowing money at zero per cent interest, and now that’s all changing.
Interest rates were going sky high. I’d tried to block up some of the leaks.
Betsy had brought in funds and so had Fitz.
They could both afford to lose money. Only they didn’t want to lose money.
Who would? As a point of principle, Betsy never likes to lose, and Fitz, the more control she has over the company, the more control she has over me.
Is that what she wants? Difficult to tell with Fitz, but what with the two women watching over my shoulder, it’s getting claustrophobic.
Anxiously, I draw my hands through my hair. I’m totally in a fix.
Then there are the guitars. They’re collector’s pieces – were Ed Sheeran’s and Bob Dylan’s.
Early versions. And the only thing I care about in the whole building.
I thought if I just grabbed them off the wall when this audition process was over, I could buy my way out of the business.
Head to some tropical paradise where you only needed a little music to see you through.
Write a few songs. Leave the business to Betsy and Fitz.
Only now, I can’t do that. Because now we’re missing our winning voice.
I reach into my pocket and open my wallet.
The SD card with the missing beauty’s voice on is inside.
I hold it between my finger and thumb as if I somehow have her captured.
This kind of voice, this quality, the originality of the arrangement, the natural, nuanced ease of the pace – this could save the business.
Then I could sit on my beach with my guitar and know that everything back home is ticking along just fine.
She’s not just my songbird. This broad, whoever she might be, is my golden goose.
* * *
CLARA
Within minutes of Marco leaving, Nelly had me sitting on a stool in front of a show-girl bank of bulb-ringed mirrors, my hair held back from my face in a stretchy white Alice band.
‘Nice bone structure,’ he says as he loads a palmful of white face cream into his hand.
‘Thank you?’ I say uncertainly, more because it feels like I should know what he’s talking about. Do I really have good bone structure? I thought that was just a Botox and cheekbone thing. I find myself staring intently at my reflection.
‘I’m going to go heavier on the eyes to bring out the blue. A little flick of liner. False eyelashes.’ He raises his eyes heavenward as if, what else. ‘And… I’ve got this lovely coral lipstick, which I use on all my girls. It’s kind of my signature for the year. I think that’ll do the trick.’
He slides a stool underneath him, edges himself close to me, and begins to work. I try to turn around a little so I can see what’s going on, but Nelly just laughs and pulls the seat around the other way.
‘No peeking. We don’t want to spoil the surprise.’
And so he paints, and we begin to talk. I tell him everything.
Well, almost everything. How I wasn’t supposed to even be working for Marco.
How there was a mix-up with the audition tapes, and we’re trying to find one single voice.
I don’t tell him that I may have left the door open, therefore instigating the current crisis, or that the girl we are searching for is me. It’s way too complicated.
‘Finding the right singer in this city.’ Nelly raises one single eyebrow before dabbing a fine make-up brush into the deepest sparkly blue eye shadow imaginable.
‘Marco may be wonderful,’ Nelly says indulgently, ‘but he’s always been a bit of a knee-jerk reaction man.
’ He smiles. ‘We went to school together. The sensible thing is to just go through all the admin. She’ll be there somewhere. ’
‘Maybe…’ I clear my throat awkwardly, hoping I don’t sound guilty. ‘I mean, there are gaps, and the processed files are lost, and I mean…’ I fluster. ‘The thing is, no one remembers hearing her sing, so maybe she’s a friend of a friend.’
He nods, then shoots me what I swear is a meaningful glance. ‘Well, now. Wouldn’t that be the oddest of things? Someone is auditioning and they bring their roommate’s tape in just for a laugh.’ Nelly is clearly not buying that line.
I feel myself blush. I so don’t want to blush. Why do I always do that? I need to change the subject. ‘Fitz thought scouring the clubs would be a good idea.’
‘Hmm.’ He purses his lips slightly. I get the feeling he’s not keen on Fitz.
‘You know her?’ I ask.
‘She went to school with us, too. Very wealthy family. Like ridiculously wealthy. She’s been kind of going out with Marco for ages. Forever.’ Nelly raises his eyes as if this is all so boring.
I feel my smile drop; the forever girlfriend is so much worse than the casual fling with the shareholder girlfriend. I hope Nelly isn’t picking up on my disappointment. Marco might as well be married.
‘Honestly.’ Nelly continues painting small, intricate strokes over my eyelashes with a miniscule brush.
‘I don’t think there’s any physical relationship left between those two.
My absolute, honest-to-God opinion…’ He leans in towards me, pausing with his brush held high, itching to spill a little gossip.
‘…I think she only goes out with him because her parents approve.’ He gives a brief tut before continuing to apply the shadow.
‘Very difficult man, Fitz’s father. Almost as bad as Marco’s was.
Old school. But now Marco and Fitz are even more tied together.
’ Nelly scoots a little closer, edging the brush around the bottom lid of my eye.
‘Marco had to sell shares in his father’s company.
Fitz and Betsy bought them up. So, no doubt,’ Nelly gives his brush an extra coat of blue, ‘Marco is feeling pretty trapped right now.’ Nelly suddenly stops, dead still.
His eyes narrowing. ‘Do you think he could have sabotaged this whole thing? That maybe he didn’t want the auditions to be successful in the first place? ’
It’s an odd thought. When I first met Marco that day in the studios, he had been totally out of control. Absolutely in sabotage mode. ‘But why?’
Nelly shrugs. ‘Maybe the company’s in debt. Marco feels snookered. It’s never really been his style; all that responsibility. He wants to get out, so he intends to bring the whole thing crashing down around his ears.’
Could Nelly be right?
‘In which case,’ Nelly says, allowing himself a small, secretive smile. ‘The voice you’re looking for. Well, you certainly aren’t going to find it in this town. Perhaps there is no missing songbird.’
It’s an interesting theory, only I know for a fact Nelly’s got it wrong.
‘Voila.’ Nelly jumps back and gives my chair a spin so that I’m facing the mirror. I cannot believe what he’s done.
Yet again, I find myself gasping. ‘I look amazing,’ I say. Awestruck.
He hangs his head beside mine in the mirror. ‘And this, my lovely Clara, is only just the start.’
* * *
MARCO
Ten minutes before I have to get back, I turn the keys in the ignition, pointing the banana in the direction of home. It’s a home that’s not mine. But isn’t home the place where you’re always welcome? So maybe, I guess, there’s a bit of me that resides there with Nelly.
I park the car in the alley at the back of the building and fiddle through Nelly’s keychain till I come to the electronic garage fob and give it a good press. The door slides open on its rails.
‘Okay, Nelly,’ I shout as I swing through the door to his inner sanctum.
‘You’ve had your hour. We’ve got…’ Words fail me, because walking towards me is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life.
The hair is perfect, the body is wrapped in this jumpsuit, it’s all blue and purple and paisley.
Understated but absolute class. Just, wow.
She smiles at me with these lush coral lips and it’s like a sunburst coming out from behind a cloud. ‘Hey, you,’ she asks with a degree of confidence that I haven’t seen in her before, ‘what do you think?’
I seriously don’t know what to say, so I just stand there dumbstruck for a moment before managing an awkward, gruff ‘Hi’ in return and totally avoiding the question.
She smiles again and takes a step closer to me, looking into my eyes with such intensity that I feel like something inside me is melting away. We stare into each other’s souls. Moving slowly towards each other, hypnotised as sleepwalkers, one step at a time till we are almost touching.
‘So, yeah,’ Nelly breaks in, a note of confusion to his voice. ‘I think she scrubs up okay.’
I couldn’t agree more. I reach out to take her hand, then pull back as if I’ve been stung. I am not my father. I will not take advantage of people who work for me. Shit! Why did I get her to sign that contract?
Confused, she glances down awkwardly at her hand.
Luckily, Nelly is there as always with something light and acceptable to break the mood. ‘Just don’t get ketchup on the suit,’ he says wryly, dusting her shoulders down as if she’s a doll.
‘Ketchup!’ Clara laughs, the intense moment shattered.
‘Oh, yes,’ Nelly says, his features pulled into a serious frown. ‘That guy might look like class.’ He points one long finger towards me. ‘But his tastes are positively pedestrian. Speaking of which, I called you a cab. She can’t walk in those.’
We all glance down at the steeple-high, diamanté encrusted sandals that Clara’s wearing before Nelly pushes past and slides open the door.
‘Give my love to King,’ he says brightly.
‘Tell him he still owes me a bottle of Dom P for that nightmare of a woman he sent my way last month.’ Nelly raises his eyes and shivers.
‘I had to practically use scaffolding on the poor blob.’ He grabs Clara’s hand gently between his own.
‘Not so for this little one, I tell you. She is an absolute keeper.’
‘Oh, we’re not…’ My voice clashes with Clara’s. She’s also protesting, which makes me feel curiously hurt – what’s wrong with me?
Seeing the confusion, Nelly laughs, glinting a mischievous look towards us and placing both hands in an attitude of secrecy across his chest. ‘Course not. Okay.’ He sighs.
‘Fairy tale done.’ He flicks his hands towards us.
’Shoo, shoo, people. Have fun.’ He blows us a kiss before manhandling us out of the door and sliding it shut behind us.