28
Jasper Murray felt confident he would get the post of editor of St Julian’s News. With his application he had sent in a clipping of his article in the Daily Echo about Martin Luther King’s ‘I have a dream’ speech. Everyone said it was a great piece. He had been paid twenty-five pounds, less than he had got for the interview with Evie: politics was not as lucrative as celebrity scandal.
‘Toby Jenkins has never had a paragraph published anywhere outside the student press,’ Jasper told Daisy Williams, sitting in the kitchen in Great Peter Street.
‘Is he your only rival?’ she asked.
‘As far as I know, yes.’
‘When will you hear the decision?’
Jasper looked at his watch, although he knew the time. ‘The committee is meeting now. They’ll put up a notice outside Lord Jane’s office when they break for lunch at twelve-thirty. My friend Pete Donegan is there. He’ll be my deputy editor. He’s going to phone me immediately.’
‘Why do you want the post so badly?’
Because I know how bloody good I am, Jasper thought; twice as good as Cakebread and ten times better than Toby Jenkins. I deserve this job. But he did not open his heart to Daisy Williams. He was a little wary of her. She loved his mother, not him. When the interview with Evie had appeared in the Echo, and Jasper had pretended to be dismayed, it had seemed to him that Daisy had not been completely deceived. He worried that she saw through him. However, she always treated him kindly, for his mother’s sake.
Now he gave her a softened version of the truth. ‘I can turn St Julian’s News into a better paper. Right now it’s like a parish magazine. It tells you what’s going on, but it’s frightened of conflict and controversy.’ He thought of something that would appeal to Daisy’s ideals. ‘For example, St Julian’s College has a board of governors, some of whom have investments in apartheid South Africa. I’d publish that information and ask what such men are doing governing a famous liberal college.’
‘Good idea,’ Daisy said with relish. ‘That’ll stir them up.’
Walli Franck came into the kitchen. It was midday, but he had evidently just got up: he kept rock-and-roll hours.
Daisy said to him: ‘Now that Dave’s back in school, what are you going to do?’
Walli put instant coffee into a cup. ‘Practise the guitar,’ he said.
Daisy smiled. ‘If your mother were here, I guess she would ask if you shouldn’t try to earn some money.’
‘I don’t want to earn money. But I must. That’s why I have a job.’
Walli’s grammar was sometimes so correct that it was hard to understand. Daisy said: ‘You don’t want money, but you do have a job?’
‘Washing beer glasses at the Jump Club.’
‘Well done!’
The doorbell rang, and a minute later a maid showed Hank Remington into the kitchen. He had classic Irish charm. He was a chirpy redhead with a big smile for everyone. ‘Hello, Mrs Williams,’ he said. ‘I’ve come to take your daughter out to lunch – unless you’re available!’
Women enjoyed Hank’s flattery. ‘Hello, Hank,’ Daisy said warmly. She turned to the maid and said: ‘Make sure Evie knows Mr Remington is here.’
‘Is it Mister Remington, now?’ said Hank. ‘Don’t give people the idea that I’m respectable – it could ruin my reputation.’ He shook hands with Jasper. ‘Evie showed me your article about Martin Luther King – that was great, well done.’ Then he turned to Walli. ‘Hi, I’m Hank Remington.’
Walli was awestruck, but managed to introduce himself. ‘I’m Dave’s cousin, and I play guitar in Plum Nellie.’
‘How was Hamburg?’
‘Very good, until we got thrown out because Dave was too young.’
‘The Kords used to play in Hamburg,’ Hank said. ‘It was fab. I was born in Dublin but I grew up on the Reeperbahn, if you know what I mean.’
Jasper found Hank fascinating. He was rich and famous, one of the biggest pop stars in the world, yet he was working hard to be nice to everyone in the room. Did he have an insatiable desire to be liked – and was that the secret of his success?
Evie came in looking gorgeous. Her hair had been cut in a short bob that mimicked the Beatles, and she wore a simple Mary Quant A-line dress that showed off her legs. Hank pretended to be bowled over. ‘Jesus, I’ll have to take you somewhere posh, looking like that,’ he said. ‘I was thinking of a Wimpy bar.’
‘Wherever we go, it will have to be quick,’ Evie said. ‘I’ve got an audition at three-thirty.’
‘What for?’
‘A new play called A Woman’s Trial. It’s a courtroom drama.’
Hank was pleased. ‘You’ll be making your stage debut!’
‘If I get the part.’
‘Oh, you’ll get it. Come on, we’d better go, my Mini’s parked on a yellow line.’
They went out and Walli returned to his room. Jasper looked at his watch: it was twelve-thirty. The editor would be announced any minute now.
Making conversation, he said: ‘I loved the States.’
‘Would you like to live there?’ Daisy asked.
‘More than anything. And I want to work in television. St Julian’s News will be a great first step, but basically newspapers are obsolete. TV news is the thing now.’
‘America is my home,’ Daisy said musingly, ‘but I found love in London.’
The phone rang. The editor had been chosen. Was it Jasper, or Toby Jenkins?
Daisy answered. ‘He’s right here,’ she said, and handed the receiver to Jasper, whose heart was thudding.
The caller was Pete Donegan. He said: ‘Valerie Cakebread got it.’
At first Jasper did not understand. ‘What?’ he said. ‘Who?’
‘Valerie Cakebread is the new editor of St Julian’s News. Sam Cakebread fixed it for his sister.’
‘Valerie?’ When Jasper understood he was flabbergasted. ‘She’s never written anything but fashion puffs!’
‘And she made the tea at Vogue magazine.’
‘How could they do this?’
‘Beats me.’
‘I knew Lord Jane was a prick, but this . . .’
‘Shall I come to your place?’
‘What for?’
‘We should go out and drown our sorrows.’
‘Okay.’ Jasper hung up the phone.
Daisy said: ‘Bad news, obviously. I’m sorry.’
Jasper was rocked. ‘They gave the job to the current editor’s sister! I never saw that coming.’ He recalled his conversation with Sam and Valerie in the coffee bar of the student union. The treacherous pair, neither had even hinted that Valerie was in the running.
He had been outmanoeuvred by someone more guileful than himself, he realized bitterly.
Daisy said: ‘What a shame.’