by Lucy Coleman
The scene playing out in my head makes me feel a little queasy, as I picture Beatriz and Reid together. The perfect couple reunited as one happy family. It’s not easy to dismiss the image.
‘Seren, you make me laugh. We are all here to make sure any little problems are quickly smoothed over and, besides,’ she does a half-turn, pointing her index finger up towards Cristo Rei, ‘we can always say a little prayer if we are in need. Now go, do what you have to do, and grab a little quiet time before you return. You deserve it.’ With that, she leans in to give me a hug.
Then it hits me full on like an unexpected slap in the face. I draw back, my hand instinctively covering my mouth as my jaw drops open.
‘What?’
‘My visitors are in the air as we speak and I was supposed to arrange for someone to pick them up at the airport to take them to their hotel. And then bring them here for seven-thirty. I totally for—’
Carolina raises her hand, palm facing me to stop me talking. ‘It’s not a problem. Leave it with me and I will sort it. Text me the details of the flight, their names and the hotel. Now go. It’s one small detail that is easily fixed.’
As I step out through the gates, I take a few deep breaths. Given the circumstances, something was bound to fall between the cracks, but if anything could convince me that I’m in need of a break, it’s this.
Crisis avoided, but only just. Let’s hope that’s the only one.
20
The Vision Becomes Reality
When you draft out an idea on paper and begin breaking it down into individual elements, virtually anything seems achievable. It becomes merely a list of action points, the steps involved turning it into reality. As the minutes tick by until the gates are opened, the nervous excitement everywhere around me is tangible. And my own stomach is churning.
My job now is to circulate, thank the hardworking crews who are doing their final adjustments and exude confidence as a representative of the gallery. If I look nervous, then it will make everyone else nervous, so I stand tall, smoothing down my magenta Dolce and Gabbana fluted crepe midi dress, knowing that it was worth every single penny. Tonight, I will be hovering and keeping a watchful eye over everything; calm, professional and able to step in and step up, if necessary. Like any good host, I am only here to facilitate because this evening is all about our guests.
There’s an hour to go until the gates open at seven o’clock. Striding down the avenue of palm trees, past the catering marquees where the waiting staff are busy getting their final instructions, the walkie-talkie in my hand kicks into life.
‘Seren, can you hear me, over?’
There’s a little static, but Carolina’s voice is loud and clear.
‘Yes, I’m here.’
‘Heads-up. Yolanda Abreu and her father have just arrived. They are at the VIP entrance and Senhor Ferreira is heading over there now. Were we expecting them?’
‘No, but Senhor Ferreira probably extended a personal invitation and forgot to mention it. It’s a little early and the music isn’t due to start playing until seven-thirty. However, I’m on it. I’ll head over to the booth now and see if they are ready to kick off. Over.’
I take a short cut, wending my way between the spiky, pineapple-like palm trees and, up ahead, there are three guys clustered around a pop-up, open-fronted tent that looks like a mini studio.
‘Olá,’ I call out as I approach. ‘Fala inglês?’
I hold up my official badge and smile.
One of them stops what he’s doing, nods his head and smiles back at me. ‘Is there a problem? he asks.
‘Yolanda Abreu has just arrived, so I wondered if you were able to start playing the music as soon as possible.’
The moment I mention Yolanda’s name, all three of the guys turn to look at me and give a thumbs-up.
‘Obrigada!’ Well, that was easy enough.
Turning around, I spot Danielle and one of the models as they take the same shortcut I did, on their way to the catwalk. I head in their direction.
Danielle introduces me to the young woman, whose name is Lili, and we hurry across to where Rafael and his assistant are stooped over, looking at a small monitor. He glances up and there’s an exchange in Portuguese between Danielle and Rafael, but his eyes are firmly on Lili. He turns to me and we shake hands.
Antero appears, carrying two cups of coffee for Rafael and his assistant, who take them gratefully. After a short conversation, Antero explains that they are going to film Lili doing a test walk, so they can make the final adjustments to the lighting.
‘Can you let Rafael know that I’m on hand if he needs me. The gates open in just under an hour, so once the test is finished if they have time before the shoot begins at seven-thirty, they might like to walk over to the VIP marquee to grab something to eat. I know you have it all in hand, anyway. Also, can you pass on my sincere thanks. In the UK we’d say break a leg, instead of good luck, so if there’s an equivalent Portuguese saying, please add that, too.’
Rafael is watching us closely and I turn to look at him, smiling appreciatively.
‘Break a leg,’ he repeats. ‘That I know. Thank you.’
Well, well. Carolina said once that Rafael understood some English and I wonder now just how much.
He smiles at me, courteously, just as the sound of Yolanda Abreu’s voice wafts over our heads. His smile grows exponentially.
‘An angel,’ he says, and I nod in agreement before leaving him to get back to work.
Next stop is to check on how the models are doing. It’s a fair walk across the site, out through the rear gates and along part of the perimeter the other side of the fencing. It’s a wide, quiet road, with low, limestone-cobbled pavements and we have permission to park along a section of this stretch for two nights. Even from here, I can see a large group of people standing around.
As I get closer, I wave at Inês, Carolina’s assistant, who is talking to Vicente.
‘Olá, Seren,’ she says, as they both hurry towards me and away from the throng of people.
‘Lovely to see you, Inês and Vicente. I hope everything is all right?’
‘Is good,’ Inês confirms.
‘I’ll just pop in to say hello to everyone and make sure they are running to schedule. When will you begin escorting the models over to the promenade?’
Vicente, looking every inch a security guard and wearing his uniform with an air of gravity, checks his watch. ‘Twenty-three minutes and Inês will take the first twelve ladies across. As soon as the others are ready, I will walk them over.’
‘Will we need any security here?’
‘No. I make arrangement. Four people here at all times, Seren. Staff can come and go. Get refreshments and take a look at the show. Everyone happy, but safety first,’ Vicente confirms.
‘Excellent. Thank you, both. I will see you later.’
There are eleven vehicles in total parked up. Three of them are massive units on the back of cabs. These are smart trailers, with a flight of metal steps and a handrail leading up into office-style accommodation. Two of them are changing rooms and the other one houses the hair and make-up team.
Beyond that are a variety of other vehicles belonging to the various contractors on site.
A group of models are clustered around the steps to the first luxury unit and they turn to say hello as I walk towards them.
‘Olá!’ I say as I approach. ‘Hair?’
‘Yes. We are waiting our turn,’ one of the girls replies.
I notice several of them are ready and they look amazing. One does a quick twirl for me and I give her a thumbs-up before I head up the steps.
Popping my head inside, it’s pleasantly cool as the air-con blasts out, which is just as well, as there are five workstations. Two for make-up and three for the hairdressers, who are all working flat out. Everyone looks up and I’m greeted with a mass of hellos in both English and Portuguese.
‘All good?’
Heads nod. Judging by
the smiling faces, no one is panicking and the girls sitting in the hot seats are probably anxious to finish up and slip into their gowns.
‘Good luck!’ I call out, giving a wave as I head out through the door.
Inside the second of the two trailers where the girls are changing, I finally catch up with Bernadette. She feels like a friend now, as we’ve spent hours talking, albeit with Antero helping us to communicate and fill in the gaps.
‘Bonsoir, Seren. Nous sommes enfin là et les modèles sont magnifiques!’
We air-kiss, as we are both wearing full make-up.
‘Totalement magnifiques!’ I confirm, because the models do look wonderful, even better than I think any of us could have anticipated. ‘You are well? Is there anything you need?’
‘More time, but we will do it and all is good. Carolina was merveilleuse, helping to get the gowns ready. Asseyez-vous.’
Bernadette indicates for me to take a seat and walks along to one of the three curtained cubicles, popping her head around it. She disappears inside, and a minute or two later the curtain sweeps back. She indicates for the model to walk forward and under the bright lights I get my first up-close look of one of the gowns as it will appear on the catwalk.
As the young woman extends her arms and does a slow twirl, the dress falls perfectly. There’s no rippling, or folds to hide the artwork. Along the hemline is a frieze of delicate strands of wild grasses, the sort you see along the banks of the river. They extend upwards and the palest hint of blue wraps around like a ribbon, representing the river, and then a hint of pale yellow, where the sandpipers are pecking away in search of insects. Above that, from chest-height up, the graduating blue of the sky is decorated with a few wispy little dots of cloud and a flock of seagulls in a pale, off-white, with the merest stroke of grey defining their feathers, glint with a touch of silver as if the sun is catching the tips of their wings.
‘Perfect, simply perfect.’ The words slip from my mouth without any need to think. Job done.
I’m probably slightly out of range, as Carolina’s voice is breaking up.
‘Say again?’
‘Executive coaches h… ar… VIPs an… wait…’ Her voice disappears and I increase my pace as I head in through the back gates and across the rear car park. ‘… prob… come…’
‘I can’t hear. You are breaking up. I’m on my way. Over.’
By the time I draw alongside the Mercedes minibuses, our guests have already been offloaded and as I scan around, they are nowhere in sight.
My walkie-talkie kicks into life once more. ‘Seren, it’s Antero.’
Thank goodness we have a good signal.
‘Carolina is in the VIP tent settling our guests. I’ve alerted the directors who are heading straight over. There’s a problem, but Carolina needs to explain what’s happening. As soon as Senhor Ferreira arrives to take over, she’ll meet you behind the music booth.’
‘Any clues about what it might be?’ I ask, my heart suddenly missing a beat.
‘No. She was brief, and I could hear lots of voices around her. From what I’ve seen, everything is fine. Rafael is taking some still photos and the models are all lined up awaiting their turn. The video shoot begins in about thirty-five minutes. When you catch up with her, shout if there’s anything I can do. Over.’
The last thing I need now is for someone to stop me en route, so I take the slightly longer path, skirting around the edge of the grassy area. I can hear general sounds, above which a song floats on the breeze, which has definitely picked up a little, but not enough to worry me – yet. Reid was right, fado music has a haunting quality. Yolanda sings from the heart and even though I can’t understand the words, I can feel the emotion. Whatever scene is playing out in the lyrics, she’s living it completely.
Stepping out of the shelter of the trees and onto the very end of the promenade, the sound booth is about fifty metres in front of me and, beyond that, the lights are now on as the models pose and a crowd is starting to gather.
‘Seren, Seren!’
The second I hear my name, I turn around and a tear forms in the corner of my eyes as I spot Judi and my mum rushing towards me.
‘We’ve been looking everywhere for you!’
‘Mum, what are you doing here?’
We throw our arms around each other and I almost drop the walkie-talkie.
‘Long story. We don’t want to interrupt, we just wanted to let you know we’re here and it’s wonderful, truly wonderful. Now, go do your thing and we’ll catch up when the evening is done.’
As we step back, I can see that Carolina is waiting for me.
‘You have no idea how good it is to see you both. I’m sorry to hug and run. I’m so glad you arrived safe and sound.’
I lean in to give Judi, then Mum, a lingering hug before hurrying away.
‘Carolina, what’s up?’
‘One of the three reporters we invited to the event has disappeared.’
‘Hmm, that’s annoying. We need as much coverage as we can get.’
‘Oh, I think we will get coverage, all right, but not quite what we were expecting. Senhora Veloso came to me to say that after chatting with Yolanda, they walked across to spend a little time with Rafael. Leonor and Ana were hovering, so she introduced them and then escorted them back to get a drink. When she returned, to her surprise, Yolanda and Rafael had disappeared. They had stepped away from the catwalk and were standing under cover of the trees holding hands and kissing, apparently. Yolanda’s agent had already spotted them and was hurrying over to escort Yolanda back to the VIP tent, but not before a photographer appeared and managed to snap a whole series of shots. Senhora Veloso witnessed it and chased after him but was unable to catch up. Yolanda’s agent wants to talk to you in private. I said I would find you and we’d meet him by over by the gift shop.’
My face freezes. ‘And the photographer has left the site?’
We set off, walking quickly. ‘It seems so. No one has seen him since.’
Which means they’ve been keeping their relationship a secret and now he has the scoop.
‘Oh dear. Are Yolanda and Rafael aware of what was going on?’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘Have you seen Reid?’ I enquire, trying not to sound irritated. When he first suggested I contact Yolanda’s publicist, he said she was well-known to Rafael. I didn’t interpret that as them being in a relationship. If I’d realised just how sensitive the situation was, this could have been avoided. I can’t control the press, but I would most certainly have made sure someone kept an eye on Rafael at all times to step in if necessary.
‘Yes, he arrived with Beatriz, Tomas, Leonor and his daughter, Ana. They were all in high spirits and I had no idea Reid and his ex-wife were back together again.’
Her words make my heart miss a beat for a second and I swallow hard.
‘I wasn’t aware of that,’ I reply and, to my horror, my voice wavers a little.
‘Oh, maybe I’m wrong, then. It was something Ana said about how happy she was to have her father back in her life, so maybe it’s not officially out there yet. Anyway, the girls are fine and happy to do their own thing. They won’t stray far away from the catwalk; they are captivated by Rafael. Senhora Veloso has been wonderful and she suggested that she take over chaperoning our VIPs around this evening and is more than happy to do so. It takes off a little pressure, yes?’
‘I’ll remember to express my gratitude to her. And Reid is looking after Beatriz?’
‘No. Reid is with Senhor Ferreira, at the moment. They are doing general introductions as everyone wants to talk to him. Beatriz is busy talking to a group of business acquaintances. I think they will both struggle to get away from the VIP section. Have you had time to sample any of the food?’
I shake my head as food is the last thing on my mind right now. ‘How about you?’
‘No. Agony, isn’t it? Ah, here we are. Senhor Sequeira, esta é a Senhorita Maddison.’
W
e shake hands, cordially, but I can see by his frown that he’s not happy.
‘Carolina, can you please express my apologies to Senhor Sequeira that someone should have taken photos without permission and I am anxious to address his concerns.’
Senhor Sequeira begins a lengthy conversation with Carolina, whose brow is now furrowed. It’s a couple of minutes before the exchange comes to an abrupt halt and she turns to face me, looking grave.
‘He says that Yolanda and Rafael are close, but that there must be no announcement, or leak to the press, ahead of the release of her next album. He says it is a very delicate matter and that it would be in breach of one of the clauses in her recording contract.’
My heart sinks to the floor. We’ve been all about seeking publicity, but I have no idea how to go about applying pressure to suppress something.
‘I’m afraid it might already be too late. Clearly the reporter knew the value of what he’d managed to snap and that’s exactly why he left when he did.’ I shake my head sadly, acknowledging the gravity of the situation.
Carolina delivers the news and his face is grim. Thinking on my feet, I seriously doubt we can stop this from getting out, it’s a reporter’s dream, but what if we manage it?
‘Carolina, ask Senhor Sequeira if he can get hold of anyone from the record company tonight? I have an idea. I suggest we keep this to ourselves for the moment. There’s no point unsettling Rafael, or Yolanda, until we can tell them exactly what is going to happen and when.’
If Rafael finds out, he’s so fiery he might even walk off in disgust, feeling that, somehow, it’s our fault. This is a problem I couldn’t possibly have anticipated, but it’s imperative to regain control of the situation before it escalates.
21
Basking in the Limelight
‘Here, you deserve this,’ Reid’s voice startles me. He hands me a champagne flute. ‘I’ve been looking for you all evening to say thank you and congratulations. Here’s to a resounding success!’
