All Tomorrow's Parties (5 page)

With heads like thunder and tinged with sadness Danny and Laine boarded the early morning train back to London. As the train made its way through suburbia Laine thought about the time she had spent on the road. She had found somewhere she felt she belonged. The sense of family and caring she had experienced was like nothing she had felt before. These people felt like her family, a family she had been able to pick. A family whose beliefs and values cut to the heart of what was for her important - acceptance. As in most families, they had argued and had differences of opinion. Many drunken nights had been spent discussing the plight of the miners, who were having a very hard time indeed. Standing up for what was right was never easy, thought Laine. The strike the year before had been averted but another showdown with Thatcher was inevitable. Laine and her new family had discussed this at length. Among the many things they had in common was a sense of social justice and fairness, which regardless of the discussions had pervaded their conversations. You looked after your family, your community. Everything was for the good of everyone – Laine understood this and believed it wholeheartedly. From the outset she had felt aligned to the miners and their plight. Thatcher was not going to let it rest, she thought. Thatcher had let the miners win the battle but the war was still to be decided. Laine knew her young shoulders were holding up well in the light of the social changes that seemed to be ever present.

She would not see her Gram family again; the farewell tour was truly to be their farewell although the ties of conscience would remain forever. Laine knew that however many years may pass between next seeing James, Brian, Debs and the crew she would be welcomed with open arms, picking up as if no time had passed at all. Three days later they left for Amsterdam.

4

Amsterdam confirmed what Laine had in her heart of hearts already known. She loved Danny, but as a brother, a friend - not as her soul mate. They visited Anne Frank’s tiny house on Prinsengracht. Overcome by the injustice that Anne and her family had suffered and the sheer evil that the world to which she belonged could produce, Laine found it hard to breathe, and had run out of the tiny house onto the cobbled canal side. An attempt to visit the famous Bulldog coffee house had been rethought as both she and Danny were put off by the smell of the people coming out of the place!

Laine was a classic and embarrassing tourist; she had tried on clogs, taken pictures of their ears outside of The Van Gogh Museum and paid far too many Guilders for a canal boat trip. She was happy, yet not satisfied with the way things were between her and Danny. Predictable and sometimes claustrophobic was how she could sum up her life - she knew where she was with that. Danny was attentive and supportive; he made her laugh and instructed and educated her on the finer sides of rare 60s soul records. Yet she did not feel any passion when they made love, and most of the time she just went through the motions of what she thought was “expected” of her.

Danny had never asked anything of her - that to her was fine. She knew where she was in that world and she was always in control.

Returning from Amsterdam, Danny was offered a job running a record store which suited him down to the ground. Laine’s workload increased with each day as Vestal seemed to turn into a hit factory producing No.1 singles one after the other. Work took over their lives, Danny always working late or attending some management training event whilst Laine went to gig after gig with Ella followed by club after club. Her relationship with Danny had turned into a humdrum feeling - a comfortable arm chair, too old for Laine’s young bones. Ella was now her guardian and best friend, and their relationship grew stronger with each month that passed. They were the best of friends, hours spent drinking, dancing and giggling. The bouncers at the Wag club, Reg and Joe, became familiar, regular parts of the girls’ lives, letting them sneak in more often than not, and propping them up and into a taxi in the wee small hours. When Laine got tonsillitis and hadn’t been clubbing for a few nights, Reg and Joe rang Vestal to make sure both girls were OK. Laine unconsciously gave the impression of vulnerability which brought out the compassionate side of most who met her. Men in particular could not help but want to shield and protect her from life’s arrows.

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.