Warhol's Prophecy

46

THE BAR OF the Crest Hotel was relatively empty when Hailey walked in.

However, she got the impression that, even if it hadn’t been, she would still have had little trouble finding the person she sought.

The young woman was in her mid-twenties: tall, statuesque even. She was wearing a black dress that ended several inches above her knee. A slit in the material revealed what little thigh was unexposed already. She was tottering around on a pair of platform boots that laced up as far as her knees. These platforms, plus her normal height, convinced Hailey that the woman was fully six feet tall. Her hair was so brilliantly platinum blonde it was practically luminous.

She wore purple eyeshadow and, as she strode towards Hailey and extended one sinewy hand, the black fingernails she sported seemed to glint menacingly.

‘Trudi,’ said the girl.

‘Without the “e”,’ Hailey said, smiling, shaking the proffered hand, feeling how thin it was.

This young woman, Hailey felt, was likely to be on intimate terms with an eating disorder. Had been, would be, or was currently.

‘You must be Hailey,’ Trudi said, looking down at her. ‘Would you like a drink?’

She spoke quickly, distractedly, one hand constantly brushing through her hair.

Hailey accepted a Bacardi and Coke.

Trudi ordered a margarita and sipped at it like a sparrow drinking at a bird-bath.

‘Where are the band?’ Hailey wanted to know.

‘They’re up in their rooms. They’re very busy doing interviews with the local press. One of my colleagues is up there with them.’

Hailey nodded slowly.

‘It’s quite an event for a place like this to have them here doing interviews. A big thrill for the local journos,’ Trudi announced. ‘I mean it’s not exactly London, is it?’

‘That’s why so many people like it,’ Hailey told her. ‘How long have you been in this business?’

‘I went in straight from college. Messed about, really. Didn’t know what I wanted to do. I originally studied drama, but the music business is more me. The vibe is awesome.’

Again Hailey nodded. ‘Isn’t it just?’ she said, barely managing to suppress a grin.

‘What about you?’ Trudi asked. ‘Have you been in the business long?’

‘Long enough.’

‘And you work for Jim Marsh?’

‘Part-time now. I’ve got a little girl.’

Trudi shrugged.

‘I couldn’t have kids,’ she said, almost dismissively. ‘They tie you down too much, don’t they? All that shitting and puking all the time. Not very cool, is it?’

‘There’s a bit more to it than that,’ Hailey informed her.

‘A friend of mine had a baby a few months ago. God, she put on so much weight. She still hasn’t got her figure back.’

Hailey was aware of Trudi running appraising eyes over her.

Perhaps you could do with having one then, you elongated stick insect.

Hailey laid her handbag on the bar as she sipped her drink.

‘I don’t recognize the make,’ said Trudi, peering at the bag as if it was some kind of precious stone.

‘You wouldn’t. I got it locally,’ Hailey told her.

‘I bought a Versace bag last week. It’s so cool. It cost me half a week’s wages, but it was worth it. I got it down the King’s Road.’ She sipped her margarita. ‘How do you manage, being so far out of London?’

‘We’re only thirty miles away. Twenty minutes on a train.’

‘But you have to be at the hub of things in my business. You know, on top of it all. And I couldn’t live anywhere but London. I’d feel too cut off. You must go mad sometimes.’

‘This whole city is mad actually,’ Hailey replied earnestly. ‘We have the highest incidence of insanity per head of population anywhere in the country. Especially women. Apparently it’s the lack of designer shops that does it.’

Trudi looked on with concern. ‘Really?’ she murmured, gazing at Hailey as if mesmerized.

‘Still, they’ve got running water in most of the houses here now, and they think that in a couple of years we might even have television.’

Trudi’s look of concern turned to one of bemusement.

Hailey saw a flicker of irritation on those gaunt features.

‘We can go up now,’ Trudi said brusquely.

‘I can’t wait,’ Hailey told her.

She watched as the tall PR girl slid off the bar stool and wandered away in the direction of the lifts.

Hailey picked up her handbag and followed.

They rode the lift in silence, standing on either side of the mirrored car until it bumped to a halt on the third floor.

‘Do you enjoy working for the band?’ Hailey said conversationally.

‘It’s mega,’ Trudi said. ‘They’re so cool, so funny. Especially Craig. He writes all the lyrics, you know. His wife’s really nice, too. She used to be an actress.’

Hailey nodded.

‘If you wait here a minute I’ll check they’re ready,’ Trudi told her.

She disappeared inside one of the rooms, leaving Hailey alone in the corridor.

She shook her head, smiling.

No, the record business never changes, does it?

She inspected her reflection in the large mirror opposite, satisfied with what she saw.

The door opened and Trudi stuck her head out.

‘You can come in now,’ she said, almost reverentially. ‘They’re ready for you.’