Warhol's Prophecy

44

HAILEY WAS STARING at the VDU screen when she heard a knock on the door.

Without looking up, she called for the visitor to enter.

James Marsh peered around the door, then walked in.

‘I won’t be a minute, Jim,’ she said, scribbling down a phone number from the vast array before her.

‘Take your time,’ Marsh said, wandering further into the office.

He walked around slowly, finally crossing to her desk and reaching for a small framed photo of Becky that he picked up, smiling at her image.

Hailey finally turned to look at him.

‘She’s got her mum’s looks,’ said Marsh, replacing the photo.

‘Thanks.’ Hailey smiled.

‘I just nipped in to check that this meeting with Waterhole is going ahead.’

‘I rang the hotel this morning and checked. I’m due there at one.’

‘They’re staying at the Crest, aren’t they?’

‘Two of them: Craig and Matt.’ She grinned. ‘The others are doing interviews in London. Their PR girl said they were very busy. We’re lucky to have two of them.’

Marsh snorted indignantly. ‘Jumped-up little shits,’ he said irritably.

‘Their manager’s with them, too. And their girlfriends. And a couple of people from their record company.’

Marsh shook his head.

‘What’s their manager like?’ Hailey wanted to know.

‘Ray Taylor? He’s like most managers. As long as he gets his twenty per cent, he’s happy. He’s been in this bloody game for years. I knew him when he was a record plugger. He’s got plenty of rabbit, but he’s bearable – you know the type.’

She nodded.

‘What’s Rob said so far about you coming back to work for me?’

‘He doesn’t mind,’ she lied. ‘He knows how much I like this job. Besides, he’s got his own business to keep him occupied.’

‘Did you tell him you were meeting Waterhole?’

She nodded. ‘He wasn’t very impressed.’ She smiled.

‘I’m not surprised.’

‘My little girl was excited about it. She asked me to get their autographs.’

‘You’d better check if they can write first,’ Marsh chuckled.

‘Is there anything specific you want me to go over with them, Jim?’

‘Just make sure they know the deal. That the gig’s for charity. That there’s a big party afterwards. That they’re expected to meet a few local big nobs. That sort of thing.’

‘Shall I mention the auction for the signed guitar?’

‘Did you get that sorted then?’

‘I got them to agree to it. They’re bringing a mobile unit with them too, to record their set. The record company have agreed to press a limited edition of twenty thousand CDs. Half the proceeds will go to charity.’

‘And Ray Taylor agreed to that?’ Marsh said, grinning.

‘With a little persuading,’ she told him.

Marsh laughed loudly. ‘Jesus, that must have hurt him.’

‘Jim, I’d better get going.’ Hailey glanced at her watch.

He nodded and headed for the door.

‘Let me know how it goes,’ he said. Then he was gone.

Hailey waited for him to disappear, then picked up her handbag.

She was fumbling for her car keys when there was another knock on the office door.

‘Come in,’ she called.

The flowers seemed to appear like a huge multicoloured cloud, the cellophane sheath crackling in the hands of the young woman who carried them.

‘These just arrived for you,’ said Emma Grogan.

Hailey looked surprised, and took the immense bouquet from her secretary.

‘I wish I had someone to send me flowers like that,’ said Emma, staring at the array of blooms longingly. She stood a moment longer, then left.

Hailey pulled a card from the small envelope stapled to the clear wrapping and glanced at it.

Dear Hailey

Sorry about yesterday.

Adam

She held the card in her fingers for long seconds, then slid it back into the envelope.

Sorry.

She glanced down at the flowers.

Sorry.

‘So am I,’ she murmured.

Hailey picked up the bouquet and dropped it into the waste-bin.