Chapter 26
My bowels did not want me to become famous. There I was, being wooed by a record label executive, and I was at risk of crapping my pants. ‘Erm, will you excuse me again? Be back in a tick.’ I breathed a sigh of relief that the loo was empty. Most of the women in the restaurant wouldn’t need the facilities until it was time to throw up lunch.
I was getting on superbly with the label’s A&R man (short for ‘artist and repertoire’, which sounded even more cool). Gemma warned me that I might love him. She said they hired young, good-looking, friendly guys so you’d think they were your pal. In reality, he’d screw me over as soon as look at me. ‘He might try to get you to sign a deal memo,’ she’d said. ‘I strongly advise you not to sign it before a solicitor checks it.’ She was as serious as a mother imparting advice to her daughter on prom night. I was allowed to be a bit of a tease but must keep my knees together.
‘I’m so sorry about that,’ I said after running the gauntlet of size four blondes and sugar daddies that peppered the restaurant. ‘You were telling me what happens next.’
‘That’s right.’ He took a slim document from his bag. The time had come. I was about to be propositioned. ‘As I said, we’d like to offer you a deal, one record, with the advance. You can be in the studio as soon as you settle on your musicians and your producer. This is just to say we can go ahead with the formal contract negotiations. It’s a standard form.’
Why did I feel like he’d just unzipped my jeans? ‘I’m just so excited about this!’ I said, stalling. ‘I never thought it would happen. When my manager said you’d been in touch, I could hardly believe it. It’s a dream come true.’ I hoped he’d interpret this as: I’m up for heavy foreplay but I’m not going all the way today.
‘Well, you’ve got something special. I have to say I was thrilled to get authorisation for the advance.’ Read: You excite me so much I can hardly control myself.
‘I’m so flattered that you think I’m worth it.’ Will you really love me or is this all just empty talk?
‘You’re the real deal, B., I see great things ahead.’ I’ll respect you in the morning.
‘I’ll just need to have my solicitor give it a quick once-over. You understand.’ I’m a nice girl. I don’t do this with just anyone.
‘Of course, I understand. It’s just a standard form, it doesn’t tie you to anything concrete.’ I’m using protection. Promise. ‘It’s simply a letter of intent about the deal we’re offering. Have a look.’ Just touch it. We don’t have to go any further.
‘I’m sure you’re absolutely right, so my solicitor will have no problems with it. Can I get back to you later in the week?’ You’ll have to find something else to do with that erection today, my friend.
He looked like I’d just zipped my trousers back up.
‘But you said no?!’ Frederick seemed to be stuck on repeat as we sat in Faith’s living room later that night.
‘Just for now. My manager put me in touch with a solicitor who specialises in this kind of thing. She’s looking it over. I don’t want to get screwed by the label. And that does happen. My mum gave me the same advice, so I know it was the right thing to do.’
When I told Mum about the deal she cried, which made me cry. Our family was not best known for its stoicism. ‘This is all new to me, Fred. I don’t have the faintest idea what I’m doing.’
He hugged me. ‘Of course you don’t. You’re completely ill-equipped to swim with sharks. You’re right. It’s best to let others do the negotiating for you.’
‘That’s patronising! I can too negotiate.’
‘Dear heart, I love you but you cannot. Do you remember when we divvied up the household chores?’
‘Yes.’ I ended up with about eighty per cent of the work. Luckily he took pity on me and rebalanced the load.
‘And do you recognize your inability to calculate in your head? If you can’t divide a restaurant bill by three, how are you going to hold your own when they start throwing numbers and percentages around?’
‘That’s why our phones have calculators.’
‘Your phone doesn’t even work. And that’s really a minor point. You do not negotiate well. Remember the sarongs?’
I never should have told him I spent £20 on a sarong in Vietnam a few years ago. I didn’t realise the going rate was about £2. The lady closed up her stall and went home for the day after I’d made my purchases. I’d funded the village’s summer holidays by the end of that trip. ‘All right, you’ve made your point. So we agree, I did the right thing.’
‘Yes, though I’m nervous as a girl at the salon on trainee day about this. I won’t sleep until the contracts are signed. Faith?’ He called into the kitchen. ‘Do you need any help in there, my love?’
Frederick wouldn’t hear of me spending my first evening as a signed (well, propositioned) singer on my own in Faith’s flat. He came straight over after work, and Faith appeared a little later with bags, which wasn’t unusual. But they weren’t full of shoes and she blockaded herself in the kitchen. Naturally we were suspicious, and not a little terrified. I smelled burnt toast. ‘Don’t come in, it’s almost ready,’ she said. ‘Stay in the lounge.’
We did as we were told. ‘Do you know what she’s doing?’ I whispered to Frederick.
‘I’m afraid I can guess. I think she’s making us dinner.’
‘I was afraid of that. Did you have a big lunch?’ He shook his head regretfully. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said.
It had Stockholm syndrome written all over it. We loved our captor, but dreaded her treatment of our bellies.
‘Ta-da!’ Faith brandished a large tray piled with bowls, setting it down before us with a look of infinite pride. ‘In honour of your deal, we are officially celebrating. And since we always go out to dinner I thought we’d do something really special. So I’ve made us the perfect celebratory dinner. Here we have the finest caviar! And there’s more. What’s caviar without– Wait a minute.’ She hurried back into the kitchen. ‘Champagne!’
‘Faith, thank you.’ I laughed. ‘This is great. So, when you say you “made” dinner, you mean…?’
‘I bought the caviar in Selfridges and opened the appropriate containers according to the recipe, yes. Although I did make the toast. Without crusts. You’re going to need more bread for tomorrow. It took me a few goes to get it right. And I sliced the lemon, and chopped the onion. By the way, don’t ever ask me to do that again, it’s dreadful. And I popped the champagne, of course. I was within my comfort zone there. And for pudding… Lola’s cupcakes.’ She leaned down for Frederick to kiss her. He’d been puckering since she emerged from the kitchen. The more I saw them together, the more I felt like they really were meant for each other.
It was easy for me to say I wanted to be in love, but my friends had made me realise that there were as many definitions of love as there were people in the world. Marjorie had three kinds in one lifetime. Kat was off the scale in one direction, head over heels, whereas her love for James was built through friendship. Faith and Fred were different still. There was no mad rush to their love, no rough edges or places where it needed to bend unnaturally. It managed both the excitement that Kat felt with The Hairy Biker and the comfort she’d had with James. It seemed our Goldilocks had found the bed that was just right.
‘To B.’ Frederick raised his glass. ‘May your CD climb swiftly to the top of the charts. And we’re not just celebrating B.’s success tonight are we, Faith, my peach? Do you want to tell her?’
She blushed. ‘Well, yes. Is that selfish, B., am I stealing your thunder?’
‘Faith, it’s just the three of us. There’s hardly thunder. A light rain shower at best. What’s your news?’
‘I’m changing jobs. The Guardian has offered to hire me!’
We squealed with glee, hugging and jumping up and down in a three-way clench.
‘You’ve finally done it, congratulations!’ I shouted as I kissed her. ‘Faith, seriously, you deserve this. After so much hard graft you’re finally on your way.’
‘You’re both on your way,’ Fred said. ‘I’m so proud of both of you. B., I want to remind you that you lied about your music when we first met. No, don’t deny it. You said you “sing sometimes” but I heard you in your room, every night, singing, practising. And I saw you, night after night, writing your music. I know how hard you’ve worked, even if you don’t like anyone else to know. But now’s the time to shout about it. And Faith, darling, you must hold some kind of record for the most shitty assignments in one journalistic career. You deserve this break. Well done to you both. And now I feel like Dorothy talking to the Wizard. I don’t think there’s anything in that black bag for me.’
‘What are you talking about?’ I said. ‘You’ve only got the best flatmate and the best girlfriend in the entire Western hemisphere.’
‘You’re right, B., you are tremendous. And you, Faith, are the love of my life.’
Faith looked as stunned as I did.
‘You too,’ she said quietly. ‘You’re the love of my life too, Frederick.’
‘Really?’ He sounded shy.
When she nodded he moved to the floor. To one knee. Faith and I both gasped. ‘Then would you do me the honour of officially being my flatmate?’
Faith laughed. ‘I’d love to!’
‘Good, because, aside from loving you with all my heart, I cannot stand my flatmate another second.’
‘Surely he’s not that bad,’ I said.
Fred held his hand up. ‘Last weekend was the last straw, B. He binned my Lush face mask. You know, the one I keep in the fridge. He thought it was hummus that had gone off. Honestly, I don’t know which I resent more, his ignorance of basic grooming or his audacity for throwing away my things. Believe me, he is that bad.’ He kissed his new flatmate.
I welled up. Of course I did. It was just the icing on Faith’s already tasty cake. After so many years of kissing frogs, she’d finally found her queen. Er, prince, she’d found her prince. Hadn’t we all been through a lot. And we’d all come out okay. Well, Kat’s story was still being written. I worried about her, especially with the custody hearing coming up. James wasn’t budging about having the boys with him.
I excused myself to let Faith and Fred share their moment, and went to call Kat from the other room. She answered on the first ring. ‘You okay?’ I asked.
‘Yah, Suesse, thanks. I thought you might be James. He is threatening to call tonight.’
‘So you’re still talking without the lawyers? That’s good, right?’
‘I’m not sure. We are talking with the lawyers too. Lots of talking. Getting nowhere.’
‘He’s still going to go for custody?’
‘The caseworker came over today to check up on me and meet with the boys. I hated having her here. It was an invasion of privacy. She was judging everything she saw.’
‘Well, it’s just a process that everyone has to go through,’ I said like I’d ever met a caseworker in my life. ‘She probably wrote only glowing things about you. I wouldn’t worry.’
‘I’ll worry until the judge gives me custody.’
‘Of course. I know you will. What’s your lawyer saying?’
‘He’s not telling me very much. It will all depend on what James’ lawyer says about me. If he paints me as an adulterous mother who is breaking up the family, then, I don’t know.’
There wasn’t much I could say to comfort her. It was all down to the judge. We hung up with Kat still feeling awful and me feeling ineffectual, and very worried for my friend.