Chart Throb (57 page)

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Authors: Ben Elton

BOOK: Chart Throb
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This was not true, in fact the opposite was the case. Apart from when he had sung ‘Do Ye Ken John Peel?’ the Prince had always had the edge on the two other remaining finalists. However, Calvin certainly wasn’t going to tell that to Emma, who was becoming increasingly wide-eyed with admiration for the steady, confident manner in which Calvin was carrying out his love task.
‘I can’t believe you’re doing this for me,’ Emma said as they got out of their limousine together.
‘For no one else, my darling,’ said Calvin. ‘If the Prince of Wales wins tonight and emerges the hero of a new youth constituency, he has you to thank for it.’
Calvin almost believed it himself. Despite the fact that he had intended the Prince to win from the very start, long before Emma had raised the issue, there was no doubt that victory in his wager with Dakota now meant less to him than victory in his campaign to win Emma’s trust and hence her love. She had become an obsession.
‘I love you, Calvin,’ Emma whispered in his ear as they walked up the carpet between the screaming fans, and her smile was radiant.
Then she saw Shaiana.
Emma almost cried out. The face staring at her was like a mask, not screaming and shouting but grim and silent among the noisy crowd. Shaiana had managed to position herself right at the front and there she stood, oblivious to the hysteria and the forest of hands around her waving pens and scraps of paper.
Just standing and staring.
Emma could see that Shaiana had seen her too and for a moment their eyes met. Shaiana’s expression did not change at all. Then Emma saw that Shaiana was looking beyond her, towards Calvin and behind him to Beryl.
Then Calvin pulled at Emma’s hand and a moment later she was inside the television studio, her happy mood utterly crushed.
‘Calvin, she’s out there,’ Emma gasped.
‘Who? What’s wrong? You look sick.’
‘I am sick. It’s her. That woman. Shaiana.’
For a moment Calvin struggled to remember.
‘Oh,
her
,’ he said eventually. ‘So what?’
‘What do you mean, so what? She’s out there.’
‘So she’s come to the final, who cares?’
‘But . . . but . . .’
‘But what?’ Calvin said, putting his arm round her, which provoked another fusillade of flash photos. ‘Do you think she’s going to shoot me?’
‘Well, she might.’
‘Emma. I’ve told you before, one thing I am never going to do is to start getting scared of fans or contestants. That way lies madness. Fuck her. Fuck the lot of them. Fuck everybody except us.’
‘Supposing she comes in?’
‘If she’s out there now she won’t be coming in. All the ticketing has been done and the doors are closed, the only people getting in now are us and the star guests. Now come on, this is your night. As far as I’m concerned, all this is for you.’
Allowing herself to be at least partly comforted, Emma followed Calvin into the vast arena where the final was to be held. The place was packed with thousands of fans whom Gary and Barry had spent the previous hour whipping up into a frenzy. The atmosphere was intoxicating and if Emma hadn’t known better she might almost have imagined that she was present at the final of a real talent contest.
They made their way into the VIP area, where Beryl was being loud and obnoxious as usual. The whole Blenheim family had turned up but Beryl and Priscilla had had another quarrel and it seemed her daughter had stormed off to the bar.
‘She’s supposed to be here to support me!’ Beryl fumed to her wife, Serenity. ‘We’re a fucking family, we fucking support each other.’
‘She is here, darling,’ Serenity mumbled through her vast lips.
‘Visibly here! On fucking camera,’ Beryl barked. ‘There’s no fucking point her being here if she isn’t
seen
to be here. She might as well
not
fucking be here.’
‘I’d go to the bar and look for her,’ said Lisa Marie sulkily, ‘but I’m through with booze and my counsellor says I can’t trust myself in that environment yet.’
The Blenheims were not the only clan who had turned up to offer support to their representative. Iona’s family were also present, along with the other members of Shetland Mist.
‘I love that girl,’ Beryl commented, ‘the way she’s making Rodney’s life a misery. Oh my God, look, she’s going over to talk to the cunt.’
It was true. A frisson shivered across the whole room as Iona made her way through the crowd to where Rodney was standing with his long-suffering secretary. The ‘feud’ between Iona and Rodney had been one of the media talking points throughout the entire series and this was the first time the two ex-lovers had spoken in Hospitality in all the ten weeks.
‘Good evening, Rodney,’ said Iona.
The secretary grabbed the opportunity to disappear.
‘Hello there, Iona,’ Rodney replied. ‘You look lovely.’
‘You haven’t forgotten, have you?’
‘No. No, I haven’t forgotten.’
‘I hope not, because little Mary’s standing just over there. Innocent and virginal, she looks. What a shame if she was to rain on anyone’s parade.’
Rodney assured Iona once more that he hadn’t forgotten his commitment. Then he went over to Calvin and insisted on drawing him aside, away from Emma.
‘Well, what is it?’ Calvin enquired with little grace.
‘I’ve something to tell you, Calvin, something I think you’ll be pleased about,’ Rodney replied.
‘Spit it out then,’ said Calvin.
‘I’d like you to factor in a bit of extra space for me tonight, mate . . .’
‘Look, Rodney,’ Calvin said testily, not bothering to pretend to be polite. ‘This fucking show is not about you, all right? Besides which you are about as mean and as witty as jelly babies and quite frankly I am getting pretty bored with your constant efforts to—’
‘I’m going to ask Iona to marry me. I’d like to do it live on the show.’
This was definitely not something Calvin could ignore.
‘Are you serious?’ he asked.
‘Very,’ said Rodney, beaming at having stopped Calvin in his tracks. ‘How’s that for a bit of top telly, eh? You’ve got to admit that’s genuine drama.’
‘Well, yes, it might very well be,’ Calvin conceded. ‘What’s brought this on, Rodney? Is she blackmailing you?’
The smile disappeared instantly from Rodney’s face. ‘How did you know?’ he spluttered.
‘I didn’t,’ said Calvin. ‘It was a joke. But I do now. What’s going on?’
‘She wants to get her own back for the way I dumped her last year. She wants me to propose live on air and then marry her so that afterwards she can divorce me for half my cash.’
‘Good on her! I always knew that girl had guts. And you’re going to play ball?’
‘Yes, I’m going to marry her.’
‘Wow. She certainly dropped your bollocks in a vice, didn’t she?’
‘Well, you know, the truth is I’ve sort of fallen back in love with her . . .’
‘You’re in love with Iona?’
‘Yes, yes I am. You know, she’s been so good on the show and what with me and her having our weekly tiffs on air it’s sort of been like flirting and she
is
very beautiful, of course.’
‘If you say so.’
‘I do say so. I’m beginning to think I was a fool for ever letting her go in the first place. So I’m going to turn the tables on her. She thinks I hate her but once the show’s over and we get married I’ll show her a different side of me.’
‘Supposing she won’t give you the chance?’
‘Well, if she wants her money she’ll have to. No divorce court will rule against me for a sham marriage so she’ll have to go through with it properly . . .’
‘You mean consummate it, you dirty bastard.’
‘Well, that certainly, but I mean go through with it in every way. We’ll need to share a home and live in it together and I reckon once she gets a taste of being Mrs Rodney Root she’s going to start to like it. We’ll be a hot couple. She’s a
Chart Throb
finalist now, not a failure. I’m a big man in the industry . . .’
Calvin roared with laughter.
‘What is it?’ Rodney asked, laughing too, trying to gag along with a joke he did not get.
‘It’s you, mate, it’s you,’ Calvin said. ‘You are so transparent. She’s famous again and in the papers so you fancy her again. That is so pathetic.’
‘No!’ Rodney exclaimed. ‘I just happen to . . .’
‘Rodney, face it, you and her are a story, that’s what you’re in love with. You’re twice as famous when your name is linked with hers.’
‘Calvin, I really do love her.’
‘I’m sure you think you do, mate, but all you actually love is yourself. Well, good luck to you anyway, I always enjoy a wedding and you’re right, a proposal on air will make great telly. So like I say, you go for it. And when her star fades and you’re not in the papers any more and you suddenly realize that you don’t love her, just like last time, you can announce your divorce at the start of the next series. We might even bring Iona on to sing “D-I-V-O-R-C-E”.’
Calvin turned to go back to Emma.
‘Just one other thing, Calvin,’ Rodney said. ‘Will you be my best man?’
Calvin merely smiled, and moments later the floor manager began shouting that everybody must take their seats.
The final was about to begin.
All the previous acts had reassembled for a last brief taste of celebrity. One by one, Keely introduced them: Latiffa, Suki, Bloke, Stanley, Blossom, The Four-Z, Tabitha, Troy and Graham. Troy was cheered but Graham was booed. Millicent’s devastation had been serialized in the
News of the World
and the crowd had switched their allegiance.
Calvin was loving it.
‘Incredible, the power of this show,’ he shouted to Emma over the din. ‘Only
Chart Throb
could get a mob to boo a blind man.’
‘Please, Calvin, don’t,’ Emma shouted back. ‘I was just starting to like you.’
Emma was beginning to enjoy herself again too, drunk with the adrenalin of the event, once more finding Calvin’s immense confidence and casual cynicism attractive.
Then she saw Shaiana.
She was there, as before standing motionless among a crowd of fans who had been allowed all the way to the front in order to give the final the appearance of a live rock gig.
‘Calvin, she’s there again,’ Emma almost shrieked.
Calvin turned round.
‘Don’t look! Don’t look! She’ll see us looking!’ Emma insisted.
‘Calm down, Em,’ Calvin said. ‘I’ve told you these people do not bother me. Never have. She must have wangled herself a ticket, that’s all. They’re clever, these psycho fans.’
‘She’s not a fan, she’s an ex-contestant, and she said that you hadn’t seen the last of her.’
‘Which, thanks to you, darling, I haven’t. I wouldn’t even have noticed otherwise.’
‘Yes, well, maybe this is the John Lennon moment. Maybe I’ve just saved your life.’
For an instant a flicker of concern showed on Calvin’s face but almost immediately he pulled himself together.
‘For God’s sake, Emma, can we be a little less hysterical about this?’ he said.
‘What if she’s got a gun?’
‘Everybody’s searched on entry these days. She hasn’t got a gun.’
‘You said she couldn’t get in but she has.’
‘All right, all right, I’ll ask Security to keep an eye on her. You must
not
let this woman spoil our night.’
Emma promised that she would do her best and retreated to the celebrity guest enclosure, so named despite the fact that as far as Emma could see none of the people sitting in it were actually celebrities. Calvin joined Beryl and Rodney backstage so that they could make their entrance like emperors coming down to the Roman circus to sit in judgement on those who were about to die, and the final had began.
The Quasar opened proceedings with a tuneless but surprisingly entertaining rendition of the classic Black Lace holiday hit ‘Agadoo’. The Quasar had by now begun to distance himself from his strippergram past and was pitching himself as basically a children’s entertainer.
‘Ah ain’ stupid,’ he informed the Prince of Wales backstage. ‘Sex gods come an’ go, ri’? Ye kna wha Ahm sayin’? But kids’ entertainers work for evah! Look at the Krankees, man, they
cleaned
it. Twenty year from now nobody gone wan’ see ma booty but Ahm still gone be good fo’ Buttons in panto! Check it out, geeza!’
‘That sounds extremely sensible, Mr Quasar,’ the Prince had replied.
The Quasar was followed by Iona, sticking to the sweet Scottish girl theme with ‘The Skye Boat Song’, which went down extremely well. At the end of it Calvin and Beryl heaped their usual praise.

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