Tony Black had remained true to his word; he and Laine had become close friends. Laine surprised herself and confided in him over her hopes and fears - something she had never fully done, not even with Ella. She was at ease with him. It was unusual if they did not now speak every day.
Apart from that day in the park, Tony had never given Laine any cause for concern. Although teased by Adam, Ambra and Reggie about her relationship with Tony, everyone knew that what was developing was true friendship despite the team now always singing Duran Duran’s line “Please please tell me now” at her time and time again when Tony was on the phone. Laine decided she did not like Duran Duran.
She had finally seen Tony at Vestal’s Christmas party shortly after her return from Amsterdam. Held at The Roof Gardens, the party was in full swing when she had seen him walk in. He had cut a dash in his ruby smoking jacket and drainpipe trousers. His hair was longer than she remembered but suited him very well, jet black with a shine any girl would envy. He had entered with Tanya Roberts, a journalist at TC with whom he was rumoured to be having a fling. Tanya was a fine looking woman, the sort you knew you’d be safe with if ever you had to go hunting or fishing.
“Hi Tony, Tanya…” Laine had taken the bull by the horns. She had spoken so much to Tony over the last few months on the phone that she needed to conquer her fear of seeing him. He turned and for a split second let his guard down. Laine saw his delight at seeing her through his beautiful chestnut eyes. Now composed and poker- faced as normal he smiled his “industry” smile.
“Laine, what a nice surprise - you didn’t mention you’d be here tonight”, he said, reaching forward and kissing her softly on the cheek. Tanya followed suit - genuinely pleased to see her.
“Where’s the bar, Marshall?’ Tanya called everyone by their surname, a habit left over she said from Cheltenham Ladies College.
“Head for the middle of the dance floor, you can’t miss it”, said Laine
“Bloody parched, you two want anything?”’ asked Tanya. Laine and Tony declined. Laine tried hard not to stare at Tony: it was impossible, as though a pair of magnets were tied to the inside of her eyeballs forcing her to accept the gravitational pull.
As Tanya moved out of ear shot Tony gently whispered “Follow me” and headed for a small, cordoned-off seated area to the left of the dance floor. Laine diligently followed, grabbing a glass of Chardonnay from a passing waiter.
“It’s been too long Lainey, I was beginning to give up all hope”, he said, sliding into the plush leather booth, indicating she should follow.
The music was loud but not intolerable; Danny was DJing and was mixing up a veritable feast of 1980s blitz spiked with Marvin Gaye and Wilson Picket. This was dangerous, she told herself, but why? Press assistant sitting with music hack, nothing to see here people, she rather unconvincingly told herself. He had been on her mind a lot, if she dare admit it. Laine slid in beside him but tried to keep her distance.
Marvin was asking for more time as the great and the good responded and took to the dance floor. Cranston at the heart of the floor displayed what could only be described as death-defying feats of unusualness. Owner of Vestal he very well may be, but dance he certainly could not. He was so off the beat that somehow he had the appearance of a rather rhythmic, frenetic polar bear on acid.
“It has, Tony, been too long that is” - her words wooden, emotionless, why were her words wooden? Maybe watching Cranston had dulled her senses.
“It really is good to see you.” His eyes flickered upwards and there it was bam right between her eyes– delight, this time unmasked and blatant. She felt ashamed, a double-dealer. It was not supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be crisp white linen, clear blue cloudless skies. Instead it was clandestine iron ore that left a stain on your hands. Anne of Green Gables would not approve. She sat hands clasped together unable to make eye contact. It would only take a split second for Tony to understand. Her feelings on the cusp of exposure, starting to signal their arrival into the present, held below the surface by the smallest of margins. She felt his hand gently finding hers under the cover of darkness. Purposefully lifting her gaze, Laine accepted defeat.
5
“Hello press office”, said Laine on automatic.
“Morning Lainey it’s me”, the sound of Tony’s smoky tones seemed to echo down the line.
Lainey. Tony’s pet name for her made her smile. She had to admit she actually liked it, it was special between the two of them. Every man she had ever become close to preferred to give her a silly name rather than her real one – was she a pet she wondered? Her thoughts wandered, what type of animal would she be? A unicorn – Anne of Green Gables would be proud of that!
“Hey you, can’t keep away eh? Didn’t I just speak to you ten minutes ago?” said Laine playfully.
“Yes you did but I wanted to hear your voice again to remind myself that it really is that of a very sexy young woman”, laughed Tony
Laine faked a puking noise. “Sorry about that, just came over a bit queasy.”
“Very funny Laine, but I have a proposal for you”, said Tony, sounding quite serious.
“Does it involve money?” joked Laine
“No”, said Tony firmly
“OK I’m listening; hold on the other line’s ringing”.
Laine loved keeping Tony on hold for no reason. He always did hold on, the longest to date had been six minutes – he would not be amused if he found out. Once she’d even gone off and made a cup of tea.
“OK I’m back, where were we?” A wicked smile spread across Laine’s face as she spoke.
“Well I was going to ask if you would be my fake date for tonight. I have got myself into a bit of a pickle.” Tony sounded flat.
“Spill the beans Tony, I know you so well - now which girl are you trying to avoid?” said Laine
“She’s really sweet, Laine, in fact you probably know her - Karenna from SBC. I was at the Stones’ European tour press launch on Tuesday and may have had a touch too much to drink. Next thing I know she’d slipped me her number and won’t stop calling. Apparently I invited her as my plus one tonight to the press screening of Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence and she wants to know what time we’re meeting, I really need your help. I’m thinking if she sees me with you she’ll put two and two together”, said Tony, sounding desperate
“What - and make six?” laughed Laine. Her eyes may have betrayed her but so far her actions had not.
“I know I’m a foolish old git but I would appreciate a wee bit of help. Adam’s coming so he’d be able to give you a lift…pleesaasse?” Tony was doing his usual begging voice.
“Alright, Danny’s away tonight so I don’t need to rush back - but I do need a new dress so as long as Adam drives via Selfridges you’re on. You know I’m only doing this cos I wanna see that film don’t you? I love Ryuchi Sakamoto and David Bowie.”
“Cheers Laine, whatever your motives I owe you big time”, sighed Tony. “Tell Adam I’ll meet you both at the Ship before heading to Leicester Square about 6.30ish, see you later”, he added, the relief in his voice apparent.
“Yep alright, by the way Tone I loved your piece on Fun Boy Three”, said Laine.
“Thanks Laine, see you later.” And with that Tony hung up. Adam had been in his office with the door open. Inconvenient at the best of times - it was directly behind Laine’s desk and she knew he’d be listening. The trouble with working in a space that was an old mews house was there were limits as to how office space could be arranged. The building had been designed as a living space not a record company. That said there were also many advantages. First time visitors to Vestal felt right at home; the atmosphere was rather like that of a dysfunctional creative family – good to visit but you wouldn’t want to be there all the time. She gazed out of the window to the left of her desk which overlooked the mews itself.
Laine often wondered if real people lived in the other houses. If they did, what on earth must they think of the
comings and goings at Vestal? Notting Hill Gate was not a cheap area: she imagined they would be mightily pissed off with all the noise and commotion. Nowadays it was more common than not for her to arrive at work and be greeted with at least ten fans of the group Bandit hanging around at the entrance like lovesick puppies hoping to catch a glimpse of their idols.
“So you’re playing girlfriend again tonight then Laine?” said Adam, putting on his fatherly voice. She knew he’d been listening.
“I’m gonna have a word with him later. It’s not right you pandering to him, he asks you far too often, you’ll get a reputation…” Even more fatherly now.
“Adam it’s fine, I don’t mind really – it’s fun, it’s kind of like acting.” Laine was being honest. Tony had asked her a few times before to act as his “plus one” and she hadn’t minded. In fact she rather enjoyed it: she got to see what it may be like if she really went out with Tony Black.
She had been honest too with Danny and he had found it amusing. “I’ve never known a man like him”, he’d said. “It’s like women are mesmerised by him. Just as long as you don’t get enchanted by his spell, Boots!” he joked.
“As if”, she had retorted sharply, a little too sharply she reflected, but Danny had not picked up on it.
“Danny doesn’t mind, Adam, so why should you?” said Laine rather strongly
“Well I’m still gonna let him know he’s crossing the line”, grumbled Adam, and with that he handed Laine some contact sheets of a recent photo shoot done in Iceland with Bandit.
Laine sat in silence. Adam is my boss but he doesn’t have the right to live my life, she thought through pursed lips. She had known since primary school that she needed to become more assertive. On her final day at Elfrida Junior, her wonderful teacher Mr Sessions had written in her autograph book: Laine don’t be backwards in coming forwards. Let your light shine for all to see.
Mr Sessions was the first in her autograph book and now his autograph sat alongside the likes of The Jam, Japan, Simple Minds and Toyah. She wondered what on earth an elderly primary school teacher would make of it all. He had been accurate though with his comments. She knew that one day she needed to gain the confidence to stand up for herself and not just let things ride. She needed not to shrink back but actively push herself to the fore, something that didn’t come easy.
For now Laine had ditched the autograph book for reasons of “coolness”. It would be harder to ditch the sitting back for stepping forwards.
The Ship in Covent Garden was a regular music industry hangout - a traditional spit and sawdust kind of pub. With Record Mirror and Sounds based in Long Acre and Melody Maker, NME and Trash based in High Holborn, the Ship was the local watering hole of all good music hacks. As with most journalists, plentiful alcohol was compulsory and all present took to this statutory obligation with gusto.
Laine and Adam arrived at 6.20pm. Tony was already there with what looked like a long haired whippet on his arm. Oh my giddy aunt, thought Laine, I can be so cruel. She made a mental note not to compare others to animals. Her mind wandered back to her thoughts of being a unicorn.
Adam had driven top speed to Selfridges as requested by Laine. The result - a light pink rara skirt and a ripped top. A cross between Bananarama and Dexys Midnight Runners. Laine had changed into her new outfit in the loos of Selfridges. She couldn’t help noticing the way Adam had looked at her - she had blushed on his behalf. An impish smile widened across her face -that’ll do nicely, she thought.
Now in the Ship her entrance seemed to have the same effect on most of the men in the pub. Despite the dim lighting Laine managed to alert all of the alpha males to her presence. Maybe it’s the white stilettos…maybe a tad too much, she thought.
As they approached Tony’s table the look of relief on his face was evident. He beamed a winning smile, stood up, hugged both of them. “Ah Adam, Laine, good to see you, sit down, sit down, this is Karenna”. Laine noticed his jaw appeared clenched.
“Hi”, they both said. What a funny looking creature thought Laine, who was usually anything but judgemental. Karenna gazed upwards as though she was expecting to see some sort of overlord cracking the whip, and gave a hesitant smile. She too was wearing a rara skirt but that is where the similarity ended. Whilst Laine was slim and curvy, Karenna was stick-like, with no real definition; she was wearing espadrilles which had obviously seen better days.
Tony took hold of Laine’s arm. “Come on young lady, you can help me with the drinks, what would everyone like?” Karenna wanted a rum and coke, Adam a pint of best, Laine a glass of house white and Tony a bottle of Pils. As they headed for the bar Tony slipped his arm around Laine’s waist.
“Easy Tiger, its only make believe, remember?” joked Laine, a charge of electricity coursing through her veins at the slightest touch from this man.
Tony looked her squarely in the eyes. “Laine, as always you look beautiful. Sometimes I really do wish our “pretend” relationship was real. Danny is very lucky to have you”. He held up her hand and delicately kissed it. Not for the first time today, Laine blushed.
“I am so sorry to have dragged you into this mess”, he said, returning his arm loosely around her waist. “I’ve already mentioned your name a gazillion times in the hope that the penny will drop with Karenna, but all that seems to happen is she moves closer and tells me how she has been hoping for a date with me for ages. I’m at a loss as to what to do next”. Tony’s expression said it all - usually happy go lucky, but now the depth of his desperation obvious. Frown-lines formed across his forehead - they did not look quite as attractive as the first time she had seen them in the park. Funny how the boot was now firmly on the other foot, thought Laine: maybe Tony will realise that this is how he sometimes comes across.
“We’ll sort it, trust me”, said Laine with a sly grin. As they stood at the bar Laine relayed her plan to offload Karenna.
As they returned to the table Adam was discussing his recent trip to Scotland. Vestal’s latest signing Mahler had initiated a bidding war between the labels. Vestal had not offered the most money, but they were currently riding the credibility wave – something money couldn’t buy for the corporates. Adam and NME photographer Anders Langdorf had just returned from a Scottish photo shoot with the band.
“And then we took the guys to Loch Ness, as the atmosphere around the Loch is amazing.” Karenna looked genuinely interested. OK, thought Laine, better try for the Oscar now.
“What are you two looking excited about?” asked Adam; he had turned to see Tony and Laine heading back to them looking like a couple of lovesick teenagers.
“Do you want to tell him or should I?” giggled Laine.
“I’ve just asked Laine to spend a week with me in the States! I have to go for business but am gonna tag a few days onto the end; we’re going to meet up in New York”, said Tony, who was obviously playing his part with true enjoyment, secretly hoping that if he spoke it out loud it would come true!
“This will be our first real holiday together. I’ve never been to New York, have you Karenna?” said Laine throwing herself into the role.
Karenna looked as if she had just learned that Christmas had been cancelled forever. “No no I haven’t been”, she stuttered, her eyes focused on the rim of her glass.
A long silence seemed to follow but in reality it was only a few seconds. Tony spoke first. “Laine I’ve still got your suitcase at mine from our weekend in Bath. Something tells me it may not be big enough for New York”, he joked.
God, Tony, you’re gonna over-egg it if you keep on, thought Laine.
“Yep, I may even need two”, Laine smirked, and with that excused herself, making her way to the ladies.
She was feeling pleased with herself. It appeared the plan was working. Thankfully nobody had asked Adam to confirm anything. He had made his opinion known earlier that day and would be a rubbish liar. The door to the ladies flung open and Karenna appeared.
“Hey Karenna, how are you,
looking forward to the screening?’” said Laine in her best “let’s be friends” voice.
“I was until you came along and spoiled it.” The venom in Karenna’s voice was unmistakeable.
“Does your boyfriend know you’re screwing your way around the music industry?” she continued. “I feel sorry for him. Everyone warned me that you were the biggest bitch going and that I should keep away but Tony and I are meant to be together, and you…” she said through gritted teeth, “…well you’re just a distraction, a fly that needs to be stamped on”.
Laine was speechless; she was looking face on to Karenna’s reflection in the bathroom mirror. Karenna’s face had darkened and for a moment Laine thought she saw a hint of pure evil in her eyes. OK you cow you’ve asked for this, thought Laine.
“For your information, Miss High-And-Fucking-Mighty, I’m here as a favour to Tony. We are friends, good friends, although being you I doubt you know what the fuck that means. Tony was trying in the nicest possible way to tell you to fuck off so he recruited me as his fake girlfriend for the evening. He had hoped that somewhere in your dim head you might actually realise he couldn’t give a flying fig about you. You actually repulse him, to the point that he wished you’d get up and go for good. Apparently though you are so thick that you don’t or can’t see the sign tattooed above his head that says he doesn’t want you. The truth is he is into me and has been for a long time. I may even make his year and go out and fuck him, something that is long, long overdue, believe me. Whether I do or not is none of your damn business, so little Miss No-Butt I suggest you take your scrawny arse and fuck right off.”
All Tomorrow's Parties Page 4
