by Anita Notaro
‘But you’re learning.’ He smiled down at me. ‘And what’s really good is that Amanda hasn’t shaken that faith you have in others. Your innocence, it’s special, Antonia. You don’t want to lose it, and it’d be easy in this industry. I don’t give a rat’s, quite frankly, about tabloid stories.’
I nodded. ‘Thanks, that means everything to me.’
He grinned, kissing my forehead. ‘But I do give a rat’s about you, and you’ve got a performance to prepare for, so what’s it to be: gargling with vinegar, stuffing rosemary branches up your nose to clear the airways?’ he joked.
I mock-punched him. ‘You are quite ridiculous, and I love you.’
‘I love you, too. And now, I want you just to relax, and focus on the performance, OK?’
‘It’ll be easy, with you here,’ I said.
‘It’s never easy, Antonia, but thanks. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.’
Niall being there kept me going in that last hour before I went on stage. Karen had blagged him a backstage pass, so he was able to stay by my side for almost the entire evening. ‘I’ll leave you alone in hair and make-up – anything else would be creepy,’ he joked. ‘I’m just going to put my feet up in your dressing room and eat all that free food you’ve been given, and drink the champagne and then have a snooze.’ And he waved cheerfully as I was taken off to the make-up artist, a silent, sulky looking girl, who said not one word as she worked her magic. Where were Valerie and Colette when I needed them?
The London production team were much more strict about choosing my outfit, and they’d assigned me a stylist, insisting on supervising my costume choices for the night: a long black jumpsuit with a diamanté belt and silver high-heeled sandals, and a low-cut zebra-print minidress which was too risqué for my taste.
When Niall saw it, he did a double take. ‘Wow, that’s really …’
‘Revealing?’ I blushed. ‘I feel as if I’m half-naked in the thing.’
Niall looked bashful for a moment. ‘You look stunning,’ he said diplomatically. ‘I might prefer something more modest, but it’ll make an impact, that’s for sure.’
And it did. When I walked on stage, the orchestra playing the opening bars of ‘Bridge Over Troubled Water’, I was almost glad I was wearing it. It felt like a costume made for a bolder, sexier girl, the girl I could pretend to be as I stood in front of thousands of people on the vast stage, with nothing to prop me up except a microphone. The applause had been polite when I was announced by the presenter – after all, nobody knew the runner-up of That’s Talent! Ireland, did they? – and I could sense that the audience was waiting, just marking time before the bigger acts came on, but then I remembered about how it was my time to shine. I stepped up to the mike in the middle of the vast stage, and listened for my cue from the orchestra, opening my mouth and murmuring the opening lines, conscious of the fact that I had to control the sound, to let it build and build over the course of the song. There were a couple of impatient whistles from the audience, used to more uptempo numbers, so I had to hold my nerve, to focus on the song and on letting the notes come out of my mouth, the way I always did. By the time I hit the second verse, the orchestra swelling behind me, I knew the audience was on my side. I could feel them. It’s funny, maybe all performers have this sixth sense, knowing intuitively how the audience is feeling. I suppose you have to have it.
As the song drew to a close, I tried to keep my focus, tried not to think about Niall and how much he loved it, how often he’d played the Elvis cover for me on YouTube, about how we’d both loved Elvis’s passion, his showmanship, about Mum and how she was always with me when I sang, always, hovering around me, making me feel strong, confident. About how much she’d hate my sexy costume. She’d insist I wear a cardigan, I thought, trying not to giggle, to bring my mind back to the closing notes of the song.
And then it was over and the orchestra was swelling for the closing bars. And there was that split second of silence before the audience erupted, a roar which went around the stadium, accompanied by so many flashbulbs, I thought I’d be blinded. I stood there for a moment, unsure of myself, until the presenter, a lovely blonde young girl with a cheery smile, saved me, tucking my arm into hers and saying, ‘Wow, that was amazing. What a talent, everyone!’ And she pulled me gently offstage as the audience erupted again.
‘Well done, Toni, that was wonderful,’ she trilled, placing a kiss on my cheek as she led me into the wings, where Sharon was waiting.
‘High five,’ Sharon yelled, holding her hand up to mine. ‘You blew them away out there. I’ve never heard anything like that applause. You go, girl!’
I was a bit embarrassed at her shrieking, and tried to keep my voice low. ‘Thanks, Sharon. I’m gobsmacked, I really am.’
‘Of course you are,’ she soothed, her expression one of concern. ‘I’d say that was nerve-racking.’
‘My legs are like jelly,’ I said, taking a sip of the water Sharon had handed me. I looked frantically around for Niall. I’d told him where to stand to get the best view, but there was no sign of him. ‘Have you seen Niall?’
She looked at me blankly. ‘Sorry?’
‘My boyfriend. Tall guy, blond hair.’
‘Oh, him. He’s cute.’ She grinned. ‘But Melanie doesn’t let anyone apart from crew backstage, so we had to move him, I’m afraid.’
‘Move him?’ It made him sound like a piece of furniture.
‘Yep, he’s in your dressing room.’ She smiled at me. ‘C’mon, let’s go and have a rest before the next number.’
I followed her back to my dressing room, opening the door to find him sitting on the leather sofa, waiting. He held his arms open and I collapsed into them, so overcome with emotion that I started sobbing loudly. ‘You did it,’ he kept whispering into my hair. ‘Shush, it’s over. You did it.’
‘Did you see it?’ I asked anxiously.
‘I was right there, in the wings, until Melanie spotted me and had me booted off.’ He smiled. ‘But I saw it all, and I was amazed, yet again, by just how you do it.’
I blushed and said nothing, allowing the sobs to subside, feeling more relaxed now that I’d let the tension of the last few hours out. ‘Maybe I should cry after every performance – I feel better already.’ I smiled.
‘Well, that’s an idea,’ he said. ‘You really rose to the occasion, do you know that?’
I nodded. ‘Thanks, Niall, do you really think so?’
He looked at me quizzically. ‘Of course I do, haven’t I just told you?’
‘It’s just, you know, in this business, everyone tells you that you’re amazing and wonderful, and sometimes it can be hard to tell if they’re being sincere, but I know I can rely on you to tell me the truth.’
‘I know. It’s the doctor in me.’ He grinned. Then he looked around the room. ‘All of this is completely overwhelming, don’t you think?’ He gestured to the tasteful cream leather sofa, huge bowls filled with fruit and pastries, and flat-screen TV mounted on the wall, the show running on it in the background.
‘It seems a long way from the church loft in Glenvara and a nice cup of tea after Mass, that’s for sure. I miss everyone, Niall. Sometimes I think I’m on a treadmill, and I just want to go home. But then I remember how lucky I am. I didn’t even win the competition, and yet here I am, at Wembley Stadium.’
Niall took my hand in his and turned it over, running his thumb along my lifeline. ‘It’s a life-changing thing, all of this, but you don’t have to go along with absolutely everything, Antonia. You can still say no, if you’re tired or stressed.’
I shook my head. ‘I can’t say no to this,’ I exclaimed. ‘It’s taken such an effort to get here that I feel I have to make the most of it, for everyone at home and for Mum. She’d be so proud of me, I know.’
‘She’d be proud of you if you were washing dishes in a greasy spoon,’ Niall said. ‘You need to do it for yourself, nobody else, OK?’
I nodded. ‘OK.’
&nb
sp; ‘And remember our promise?’
‘That this won’t change either of us?’ I laughed.
‘It won’t. Not inside.’ He paused. ‘I’m telling you the truth, Antonia. I think you’re amazing, so amazing that I’ll even let you sing a duet with that plonker, Damien.’
I burst out laughing, wiping the tears from my face with the tissue he’d given me. ‘You’re too kind.’
25
DAMIEN WAS HOLDING court, high on his performance that night, as the sexy young Irishman with the guitar. Our duet had been a success, earning a rare smile from Melanie, but I knew that he was really happy to have done so well solo. And I was happy for him too. He was a hard worker and a really talented songwriter, who just happened to be enjoying his five minutes. And who could blame him?
The after-party was typical of these things: hot, sweaty and overcrowded, full of self-conscious stars and hangers-on. There were groups of people clustered around the really famous performers, fetching them whatever they needed, throwing filthy looks to keep the groupies at bay. I felt like a complete impostor as I stood in a corner, clutching my glass of champagne. Niall had gone to the bar, and as I looked over I could see him deep in conversation with Damien. My heart skipped a beat. Please God, let them get on, I said to myself.
Suddenly, there was a presence at my side and a large man loomed over me, dressed all in black, an earpiece in his left ear, a pair of shades on his face, even in the nightclub, which was pitch dark.
‘Miss Mayhew would like you to come over and say hello,’ he murmured.
‘Alicia Mayhew?’ I squeaked, at which he glared at me and nodded imperceptibly. Obediently, I followed him over to a dimly lit corner, in which were huddled the usual crowd, Alicia Mayhew looking tiny in the middle of them.
When she saw me, she stood up. ‘Toni!’ She grinned, and extended her arms to me.
I realized that we were expected to embrace, and air-kissed her awkwardly. Her hair felt soft and clean and her face was just lovely, so pretty. And yet she looked so frail. She mustn’t eat at all, I thought, wondering when someone would tell me it was time to lose a few pounds. I wasn’t big, by any means, but in this business, normal just didn’t cut it.
‘Sit. Let’s have some more champagne,’ she suggested, moving over on the velvet banquette to make room for me. Magically, two glasses of champagne appeared on the table in front of us. ‘I loved your cover. Elvis himself would have been proud.’ She smiled.
‘Thanks,’ I said, wondering why I felt so tongue-tied. ‘I love your songs,’ I managed, thinking that it just sounded so lame. ‘They’re really so sophisticated, and yet uplifting at the same time.’ Oh, God, it was getting worse.
She smiled again. ‘Thanks, Toni. Maybe we should try working together some time. I’ll get my people to talk to your people.’
I nodded dumbly. Who were my people? But then she shifted slightly in her seat and I realized that the conversation was over. Was I expected to get up and leave now? I supposed I was. ‘Well, it was great meeting you, Alicia,’ I said shyly, extending my hand this time. I could feel the tiny bones in her hand as she returned my handshake, and then I was making my way back across the room, looking frantically for Niall.
Eventually, I caught sight of him. He was sitting at a table, underneath a glittering disco ball, Damien beside him, and I didn’t like the expression on his face. Oh, no. What had Damien said? He was capable of saying anything just to rile Niall. I’d better sort this out, I said to myself as I walked over to the table, pinning a bright smile on my face. ‘Hi, guys, you’ll never guess who I just met—’
‘Hi, Toni!’ Damien looked as if he was up to no good, and my stomach started fluttering. ‘I was just filling Niall in on our little arrangement.’ His voice was slurred, and I realized that he’d been drinking, or worse.
I tried to stay calm. ‘Oh, really? And what’s that?’ I shot a glance at Niall, but he wouldn’t catch my eye. My heart sank.
‘Just, you know, that we’re an item, so to speak.’
I shook my head and pretended not to understand.
‘I mean, it’s purely for the media, of course. A few shots of us kissing, leaving some nightclub or other. A bit of hand-holding, or maybe something more.’ He winked lasciviously. And then he leaned towards Niall, wobbling slightly as he did so. ‘But it’s OK, you can have her the rest of the time …’
I was about to reply, to tell Damien to get lost, to reassure Niall that he was just winding him up, but I didn’t get the chance. The next thing I knew, Niall’s fist was connecting with Damien’s chin and everything seemed to be in slow motion. There was a look of terror mixed with surprise on Damien’s face as his head flipped back and he hit it against a stone pillar. It made a huge crack and I gasped in fright. ‘Niall, you’ll kill him.’
‘That’s the idea,’ Niall said, clutching his fist, which he’d obviously hurt, as Damien leaned forward on the table, groaning loudly. And then two huge security guards were hauling Niall out of the club, with me following behind, tears streaming down my face. ‘Niall, for goodness’ sake, it’s not true. You know what he’s like …’
But I didn’t have time to say anything further, because the two men bundled Niall out the door and on to the pavement, and then stood in front of the door, blocking my way. ‘Best leave it, madam,’ one of them said to me.
‘But I have to see him,’ I shrieked, feeling the panic rising in my chest.
There was a hand on my shoulder and I tried to shake it off, but the person was insistent. ‘Toni, c’mon, let’s go and sit down and calm down for a few minutes.’ I turned around to see Karen.
‘Oh, Karen, Niall hit Damien, and he’s been thrown out and—’
‘I know, I know,’ she said soothingly, leading me away from the crowds and down the corridor, to a door marked ‘Staff Only’.
‘In here.’ She ushered me into a tiny room about the size of a broom cupboard, and made me sit down on a hard plastic chair, while she busied herself making me a cup of tea. She said nothing at all until she’d handed me the steaming mug, along with a tissue. ‘Your mascara.’ She made a gesture towards her eyes.
I nodded and dabbed at my cheeks, before wailing, ‘Karen, what am I going to do?’
She knelt down in front of me. ‘Look at me, Toni. You are going to forget this happened. Damien is a plonker, a chancer who can’t believe his luck that after years on the pub circuit, he’s finally made it into the inner circle. And the pub circuit is exactly what he’ll be doing a year from now. He knows it, and we know it. But until he does, he’s going to act the eejit and try to milk every situation for maximum publicity. You’ve just got caught up in that.’
‘But Niall—’ I began.
She shot me an impatient look. ‘Niall’s a nice guy, Toni, but you don’t need hassle right now. What you have to realize is that you are the one with the talent, and you can either waste it, throwing it away on Damien and your boyfriend who can’t hold his temper, or you can become a real professional, who behaves impeccably at all times and who never invites even a moment’s controversy. This …’ She waved her hand at the door and the scene outside. ‘Is a one-off. We won’t be seeing it again.’
I nodded silently. I knew she was right. If I was to stand any chance at all of lasting in this business, I couldn’t be involved in nightclub fracas. As it was, it’d be all over the papers tomorrow morning.
As if reading my mind, Karen said, ‘Now, I have Rebecca at Celtic working full-time to keep this out of the tabloids. It won’t be page one, but all the showbiz pages will carry it, and it won’t exactly get your career off to a flying start. We’ll have to see what we can do, but in the meantime, I’ll get Sharon to take you back to your hotel, via the back entrance, and we’ll talk again in the morning. OK?’
I nodded once more, feeling like a naughty schoolgirl. There was silence again, before Karen spoke, and this time her voice was softer. ‘Toni, it’s not your fault. You’re a lovely girl, but you’re
an innocent, who has a lot to learn about this business. Just stay out of trouble for a bit and let me take care of things, will you?’
You mean take care of my mess, I thought, as I allowed myself to be hustled from the office and out the back door of the club, where a limousine was waiting for me. Sharon shoved me in and slammed the door behind us, barking, ‘Knightsbridge,’ to the driver, who nodded and drove off.
‘Thank God, no press,’ she muttered as we pulled out of the lane behind the club and into the busy London traffic. I looked out the window at the lights of the Savoy Hotel, at the people thronging the pavements, at the gloomy outline of Green Park behind the ornate wrought-iron gates, and I wondered how a performance at Wembley, the highlight of my professional life, could have ended in such a mess. Perhaps Karen was right. It was simpler to cut Niall out of my life if this was the way things were going to go. But it was so unfair, I thought. It wasn’t Niall’s fault, it was Damien’s. He’d wound Niall up.
And then in my mind’s eye I saw Damien’s chin snap back as Niall’s fist connected with it, and I knew. He could be moody, Niall, as I was well aware, but I’d never seen a look like that on his face before.
‘How’s Damien?’ I ventured.
‘Oh, he’ll live … unfortunately.’ Sharon grinned. ‘He’s such a little oik, even if he is cute.’ She looked at me sympathetically. ‘Look, I know he wound your boyfriend up—’
I interrupted her. ‘Sharon, I don’t mean to be rude, but Karen’s already explained it to me. And she’s right. It’s not even the publicity, it’s just that I can’t concentrate on singing with all this … stuff going on.’ As the words came out of my mouth, I realized that they were true. The only thing that really mattered to me was singing. Without it, well … it was singing that had got me through the last few months since Mum’s death, it had saved me, had revealed to me things I didn’t know about myself. But did I really have to sacrifice Niall into the bargain? The thought scared me more than I thought possible.
