Confessions Of A Karaoke Queen (27 page)

I’m doing my best not to think about all this now I’m actually faced with the man.

Evan’s office at Tooth & Nail is flooded with sunlight. I’m squinting into the glare, and Evan, his back to the window, stares at me blankly from a face in shadow.

‘You can’t just disregard my wishes,’ I say, once I’ve voiced my outrage at last night’s episode. ‘Some things are private, Evan – you have to understand that. If I didn’t make myself clear on that point, allow me to now.’

I had imagined him apologising profusely, even pleading on his hands and knees for forgiveness (that was around three a.m., and sort of confused with the Lawrence-begging episode. I’ll have to ask Lou about ex-boyfriends and authority figures with hair made of sponge … god, what’s Freud going to make of that?). Instead he looks almost as tired as me, and distinctly unimpressed.

‘Alison felt strongly about it,’ he says flippantly, loosening the knot on his tie. ‘She believed it was important to establishing your motivations.’

‘What motivations?’ I demand, outraged. ‘As far as Lawrence goes, I have no motivations whatsoever!’

‘We don’t know you well enough, Maddie.’ Evan shakes his head sadly. ‘That’s the feedback I’m getting …’

‘Is that right? What are you going to ask me to do next, then – maybe I could organise a
Full Monty
staff strip?’

He leans back, the leather creaking beneath him. ‘Not a bad idea …’

‘Does Nick know about this going in? I’m sure he’d have something to say.’

Evan raises a sharp eyebrow.

‘It wasn’t Alison who was fussed about getting that in, was it?’ I barrel on, knowing as I voice it that it’s absolutely the truth. ‘She understood fully when I talked to her about it – it was you who insisted, and she was too scared to argue.’ My trump card surfaces from nowhere and blindly I grab it. Before I can stop myself it’s fallen from my mouth. ‘Because that’s the way it goes between the two of you, isn’t it?’

Instantly I know I’ve said too much. It’s like that moment when you’re pulling out the wrong block in Jenga and you’re waiting for the whole lot to fall. So much for keeping it professional. I wish I could fold the words back into my throat.

Evan flushes under his tan. ‘What exactly are you inferring?’ His voice is low, controlled, and all the more scary for it.

‘Nothing, I didn’t mean anything by it.’

Evan locks me with that crocodile stare. ‘I’d be careful what you say in future,’ he says. ‘I’m a very powerful man, you know.’

‘I know.’

‘Try saying what you mean, in that case.’

I’m not being cowed into a corner this time. ‘I’m saying that if you want more drama, there are other places to get it.’

He narrows his eyes, prepared to call my bluff. ‘There are?’

‘I’m sure you can work it out.’

Evan watches me for an uncomfortably long time. ‘Well,
you say that,’ he says quietly, ‘but ratings have sky-rocketed over the past week.’

‘They have?’

‘Yes.’ He looks pleased, settling back. ‘You don’t think people are
really
interested in some washed-up old karaoke bar, do you?’

I’m shocked by his rudeness. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘It’s the people they want to see.’

‘But there has to be a line,’ I maintain, ‘and when we’re not happy broadcasting something, it’s got to stay out.’

Evan nods efficiently. ‘Like your date with Nick Craven, for example.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

Evan taps a hand on the desk, the metal
clack-clack
of his Rolex punctuating the silence. ‘Your date with Nick, of course.’

I battle to keep my voice steady. ‘What date would this be?’

Evan smirks. ‘We had a camera follow you to Embankment last week – right after your debut on stage, which was quite a hit with viewers, I might add. Have you checked YouTube recently?’

‘Tell me you’re joking.’

‘Quite the romantic scene.’ He’s chuffed with himself now. ‘Nick really couldn’t have planned it better. We’re waiting for the right time to go out with it, take the viewers by surprise. Although I’m sure you’ll agree the chemistry’s been there between you from the start.’

My heart jumps into my mouth. ‘You
filmed
that?’

‘Just the crucial part.’

‘Which was?’ It comes out little more than a squeak.

‘I doubt you need reminding.’ He gives me a soupy expression. ‘Often I think Nick missed his vocation – he shouldn’t be hidden away behind the camera; he performs so well in front of it. Very convincing, wouldn’t you say?’

I’m shaking. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, you didn’t think any of it was
real
, did you?’

Silence.

‘Ah, Maddie.’ Evan chuckles. ‘And there’s me thinking you’re an intelligent girl. You really believed him?’

I lift my chin. ‘Why shouldn’t I?’

Evan laughs drily. ‘Let me put it this way: how do you think he managed to bed a married woman like Rebecca Ascot?’

I swallow. ‘I don’t think it was like that.’

‘What do you think it was like, then?’

‘I don’t know … I—’

‘By pulling the exact same tricks he pulled on you, that’s how. He’s a practised hand at it now – part of the reason he was so perfect for the job.’

My mouth is dry. ‘He wouldn’t have.’

But there’s a chink of doubt appearing in my armour. It would explain why Nick’s been so off with me. It would explain it fully. I was just another of his conquests, a desperate last grab at the publicity that could revive his career.

‘Let me tell you, sweetheart – I know a hell of a lot more about that affair than you do. And, I might add, about this one.’

To my horror Evan pulls open his desk drawer, extracts a tan envelope and throws down a collection of stills of Nick and me. There we are, standing on the bridge, looking out at the river; him holding me by my shoulders; us about to kiss.

‘You see,’ he goes on, ‘Nick was only acting on my instruction. I wanted you in the centre of things; the viewers wanted it too. So I told him what I required of him and he delivered, simple as that. And very well too, it would seem.’

‘I don’t believe you.’ My voice doesn’t sound like mine. ‘Nick would never do that.’

Evan’s cruel laugh wings round the office. ‘Why do you think I wanted Nick Craven involved in the first place?’ he muses. ‘Because of his spotless record, his great profile? Hardly. It worked for him and it worked for me. This is his big opportunity, his way back. After the Ascot affair he was down and out’ – a shrug – ‘so I told him I’d hire him if he promised to play his part. He’s been in it from the beginning, Maddie.’ He speaks slowly, like this is a concept he’s explained a thousand times and I still don’t get it. ‘This is how things are in reality television – don’t tell me you’re actually surprised?’

I’m biting my lip so hard I can taste blood.

I can’t believe it was all a lie. I can’t.

Not everything.

‘I don’t understand,’ I say weakly. ‘Why are you doing this?’

‘Doing what?’ Evan’s eyes widen, offended at the accusation. ‘I’m only sticking to my side of the bargain. It’s all above board, Maddie, just look at the contract.’

Flashes of his clever wording come back to me.

… Subject agrees to all filming in relation to the Club … entrusts the Producers autonomy … grants her permission …

The fact that stupidly, idiotically, infuriatingly, I didn’t read it through properly. I rushed into it. Because I was too busy thinking about something – about some
one
– else.

‘I met Nick that day,’ I say slowly, almost to myself. ‘The
day I came in and you gave me the paperwork. I ran into him outside …’

‘You did? What a strange coincidence.’

I can’t get my head around it. That was planned too?

He grins, easing himself back and crossing his legs. ‘Everything happens for a reason – wouldn’t you say?’

Evan engineered the meeting, of course he did. He knew that having me bump into a handsome stranger outside Tooth & Nail would provide the bait he needed. Appallingly, he was right: I was reeled straight in. What’s more, Nick agreed to it.

Or maybe that part was Nick’s idea?

How could he?

‘No more filming outside the club,’ I tell him, surprised by how firm my voice is. ‘I want your word. No cameras on us anywhere outside Pineapple.’

Evan makes a sucking sound through his teeth. ‘I’m afraid that’s not possible, Maddie,’ he says. ‘We’re heading to the halfway point – you know I can’t pull back on the drama now.’

‘Even though your little affair’s been blown out the water?’ I snap. ‘Because you might have wrapped Nick around your finger but you won’t do the same with me.’

Evan laughs good-naturedly. ‘Actually, I think a lovers’ tiff could be just what we need.’

I grit my teeth. ‘It’s my club, Evan, and what I say goes.’

He leans forward. ‘Or what?’

‘Or … Or I’ll …’

‘You’ll pay a fortune in lawyers’ fees and never get anywhere, because we’ve got the contract on our side and you haven’t got a leg to stand on?’

‘I’ll expose you.’

‘And ruin your reputation, and your family’s? “Daughter of Pineapple Mist Hits the Skids”, just like every other teen with a famous parent who can’t handle the pressures of growing up in the background. Sound about right?’

I shake my head. ‘We’re not like that.’

‘So prove it. Play your part. We’re in this together now.’

‘I knew I couldn’t trust you,’ I say. ‘I knew it from day one. And yet I still let myself get taken in by you. You’ve been lying from the start.’

He chortles, like this is just another scene he already scripted – maybe it is? – and it’s all going nicely to plan.

‘Let’s just try to get along, Maddie, shall we? And we both know it’s not me who’s been lying to you. There’s only one person who’s been doing that.’

‘Keep away from me,’ I groan, turning into the pillow and burying my face in its reassuring plumpness. ‘It’s for your own good.’

Lou draws the curtains and an aggressive wash of daylight streams in. ‘You’ve got a cold, Maddie, you’re not a leper.’

I lift my head and squint at her. ‘Leave me alone. I’ve a right to suffer.’

Lou gives me an exasperated look and heads into the kitchen. I hear her banging pots and pans around, then the radio snapping on and Vampire Weekend filling the flat.

It’s four days later and I’m partway through a self-imposed stint of solitary confinement. I’ve had worse colds, but never one with such impeccable timing: reeling badly from my meeting with Evan, I just about managed to keep my head down at the club for one night – I still don’t know how I’m going to make it through the remaining three weeks and can’t bring myself to think about it – when the next morning I woke with a virus. I’ve been out of circulation since. Rather than feeling glum like I normally do when housebound, with only the lone mating caws of the
Loose Women
for company, on this occasion I’m positively grateful for the chance to draw the curtains and shut out the world.

Lou comes back in with a bowl of soup.

‘Here you go,’ she says, helping me rearrange my pillows and sit up. ‘You OK?’ She holds the back of her hand against my forehead.

‘I’ll be fine so long as I never have to leave this flat ever again in my whole entire life,’ I say dramatically, loudly blowing my nose.

Lou sits down next to me, putting her feet up on the bed. ‘It’s not the end of the world, you know. There’s only a few weeks left and then you never have to see Evan Bergman again.’

‘He tricked me,’ I say miserably.

Lou’s well within her rights to say ‘I told you so’, and I’m grateful that she doesn’t.

‘Maybe,’ she reasons instead. ‘But you’ve got to look at the positives: the club’s making tonnes of money – which is exactly what you did it for, remember? It’s transformed, Maddie. You’ve made all your plans a reality!’

‘A reality show,’ I interject bitterly, spooning the soup into my mouth.