Warhol's Prophecy

32

‘THEY’RE BEAUTIFUL, JIM. Thank you.’

Hailey gestured towards the huge bouquet of red carnations that lay on her desk. She smiled broadly.

‘Just a little welcome-back present,’ Marsh told her.

He was in his fiftieth year but looked much younger, the only clue to his advancing years being the profusion of crow’s feet at his eye corners. His hair was flecked with grey but still lustrous, swept back from his forehead.

The office they now stood in was huge. It contained an enormous desk, a leather sofa, a glass coffee table and two other high-backed leather chairs. There were even more flowers in vases set on either side of the large picture window that overlooked the car park fronting the building.

Hailey walked back and forth, gazing out of the window, while Marsh took a seat behind her desk.

‘It’s good to have you back, Hailey,’ he said finally. ‘I know it won’t be just like it used to be, with you being part-time now, but I hope it’ll do for you.’

‘It’s good to be back, Jim. Thanks for keeping my old office for me.’

‘I knew you’d be back eventually. You were made for this job.’

She smiled and leant on the window sill, pulling down her skirt slightly.

‘Things haven’t changed much around here,’ he told her. ‘A lick of paint, a few new faces. That’s about it.’

‘You never did like change, did you, Jim?’

‘Mr Predictable, that’s me. Anyway, I’m not the one who’s changed – it’s you. What’s it like being a mum?’

‘Tiring.’ She smiled.

‘How are your family?’

‘Fine.’ She kept the fixed smile in place.

‘Rob didn’t mind you coming back to work for me?’

‘Not at all,’ she lied.

Very convincing.

‘I’m delighted you agreed to come back,’ he told her. ‘I’ve tried other girls here, but they just haven’t got it.’

‘Got what?’

‘What you’ve got?’

‘And what’s that?’

‘It’s indefinable,’ he chuckled, getting to his feet. ‘I had one girl here a while ago. Lovely girl, long blonde hair, good-looking, legs up to her armpits. You get the picture?’

‘Decorative.’ Hailey smiled.

‘I even paid for a boob job for her. Five bloody grand.’

‘Jim, for God’s sake,’ she laughed.

‘She looked great, but she didn’t have it up here.’ He tapped his temple.

‘You sexist pig,’ chuckled Hailey.

‘No, don’t get me wrong. I don’t mean she was thick. Like I say, she looked great. Wherever we went together, she turned heads. I took her to Rome, New York, you name it. But she couldn’t do the job. Not like you used to do it.’

‘Did she become another notch on the Marsh bedpost?’

‘What’s that got to do with it?’ he wanted to know.

‘Oh, come on, Jim. You don’t usually employ your PAs for their typing skills.’

‘You’re still the only one who’s had it all, Hailey. Looks, brains, and the same sort of work ethic as me. You get the job done.’

‘Jim, you can stop the bullshit now. I’m back, OK?’ She sat down behind her desk after he stood up and moved to the other side of the room. ‘Just don’t forget: it’s only part-time. No more trips away. No more working until midnight.’

He held up his hands. ‘I hear you.’

‘So, what’s first on the agenda?’

‘Well, I thought I’d give you a few hours to settle in, get the feel of the place again. You might have become a bit rusty.’

She raised an eyebrow.

Marsh smiled. ‘All right,’ he said, ‘here’s the deal. Have you heard of a band called Waterhole? They’ve just released an album called Playing with Andy Warhol, whatever the hell that means. Advance sales are huge.’

‘I’d have to have been living in a cave on the moon not to have heard of them.’

‘Right. Well, as you know, in less than a month it’s the twenty-fifth anniversary of the founding of SuperSounds, and I’ve managed to negotiate a deal with Waterhole to play a gig locally in celebration. They use only our gear.’ He sat down in one of the high-backed chairs, after pulling it closer to her desk. ‘That’s high-profile. The advance ticket sales are over ten thousand already, and they’ll be double that by the time the gig takes place. All the proceeds go to charity.’

‘So where do I come into all this?’ Hailey wanted to know.

‘They’re a big band, Hailey. About the biggest there is at the moment. The only problem is they’re arseholes. I know they haven’t exactly got the monopoly on that in the music business, but these guys have raised being pricks into an art form.’

‘Yes, I’ve read all about them. Didn’t one of them get arrested last week?’

‘For decking a journalist at some showbiz party. The guy was just taking pictures and the guitarist got the hump and broke his nose.’ Marsh shrugged. ‘I think that dozy slag he’s going out with objected to the intrusion.’ He shook his head.

‘They’re in Canada at the moment, aren’t they?’

‘They fly back tomorrow. They’ve been in trouble out there, too: mouthing off about the Royals and shit like that. Very original. They want to be the new wild men of rock, but they’re only playing at it. Sticking two fingers up at cameramen and spitting at your own fans doesn’t make you the new Sex Pistols. Try biting the heads off a few bats, driving cars into swimming pools, or lobbing TVs out of hotel windows – that’s more like it.’ He grinned.

‘So what do I do with them?’ she wanted to know.

‘You liaise with their press office and their record company, make sure this gig goes off without any hitches. With all the proceeds going to charity, I’ve managed to get some local big nobs involved too. The local MP is going to attend. And we’ve got a big party lined up too, after the gig. Yours truly gets to present the cheque to the heads of the chosen charities. I need you to work closely with them, too.’

She nodded.

‘So, let me get started,’ she said. ‘By the way, Jim, what about getting one of the guitarists from Waterhole to donate a signed guitar after the gig, for auction? You could raffle it at this party you’re having. I’m sure those local dignitaries would be only too happy to fork out for it. Especially as the money is going to charity. It’ll make whoever buys it look good too, won’t it?’

‘And you wonder why I wanted you back?’ Marsh grinned.

He turned and headed towards the door.

‘All the info you need is on the computer,’ he added. ‘Any problems, give me a shout.’ He paused at the entrance. ‘Thanks again, Hailey.’

‘Thank me when it’s all over,’ she said, smiling.

He closed the door, leaving her alone in the office.