Confessions Of A Karaoke Queen (38 page)

‘What happened?’ I lean forward, practically on the edge of my seat. ‘You just faded, you vanished – at least that’s what they all used to say. No one knew where you were.’

Loaf (sorry – can’t stop calling him that) rests his elbow on the mantelpiece. He waits a moment before responding. ‘I had a shining career.’ His voice catches. ‘Until one man ruined everything.’

The name is on my tongue, poised for flight. But Loaf has more to say.

‘It was the summer of ’87. I was auditioning for a male duo, something to rival Hall & Oates, with the catch of Go West and the sex appeal of George and Andrew.’ He gestures around a bit. ‘I had my one guy – Lenny Gold, he won the Best Male Haircut of 1983. God,’ he smiles, reminiscing, ‘how we worked that perm …’ – a fond chuckle – ‘and I needed a match. Lenny was blond; I wanted someone with brown hair, a contrast, a yin to his yang. I was going to call them’ – he closes his eyes – ‘Two Shay.’

‘Two Shay,’ I murmur. ‘“Goodbye Lover”. “Do the Rhubarb”.’

‘The very ones.’ Loaf sits back down, and I can see his hands are shaking. He tucks them under his legs to steady them, or hide them, I’m not sure.

‘I don’t understand,’ I say. ‘Two Shay had three number ones. They were huge. And you put them together. You were responsible for it – the perfect match.’

‘They were perfect,’ Loaf rasps, ‘Lenny and Don. But I saw none of their success. They sacked me as their manager – it was the death knoll in my career.’

‘What went wrong?’

He shakes his head, scratches his chin. ‘Evan Bergman walked into my life, that’s what went wrong.’

‘But what’s Evan got to do with Two Shay?’

‘Absolutely nothing – and that was the problem. That’s why he made my life a living hell for eighteen months and sabotaged my career, my name, everything I’d worked for.’

I search his face. ‘How?’

Loaf gathers himself. ‘Evan Bergman – or Evan Bergamot-Laidislaw, as he was back then – was the son of the seventh earl of somewhere-or-other: I wasn’t impressed by it so I don’t remember. He was aristocracy, a rich, up-himself young toff, and I took against him as soon as he walked into my office. Acting like the world owed him a living; like he should be able to click his fingers and the rest of us would jump; like he didn’t have to work for a damn thing – not like we’d all toiled, scrambled up from the bottom, reached for success with our bare hands because not everyone gets born with their fingers in a pair of silk gloves.’ A pause while he catches himself. ‘I’d placed an ad in the paper – much in the same way Evan drew you to him – advertising for a male pop artist to form one half of my duo. Evan responded to it. He was
desperate
to be a pop star, to be famous, to perform: I knew it as soon as I shook his hand. I could smell it on him, the hard ambition, the cut-throat
drive – I knew then he’d do just about anything to secure victory in the charts. Because in that way a lot of privileged people have, his gripe against society was that society had never
given
him a gripe. He’d been handed everything on a plate since day one, and now he wanted to prove himself, to break away from the aristocratic label … and find a home on my label instead.

‘He was good-looking. Oh yes, he made a great match with Lenny – they looked wonderful side by side. But he couldn’t sing a damn note … not one! I’m not talking about hitting a few bums and needing some extra help – we’re talking circa Milli Vanilli here, after all – but there wasn’t
any
raw material to work with. None. He could barely hit a middle C. And call me an opportunist but I’m also a music producer – I
care
about the industry, about nurturing talent and rewarding ability – and I don’t believe in manufactured success when there’s not at least a glimmer of genuine spark.

‘So Evan auditioned and everyone at Wish Records was stunned … for all the wrong reasons. Of course he thought he had it in the bag, that we’d never refuse an aristocrat, least of all one who looked like he did. And I’m ashamed to say I did put him through to the final three purely because he looked so divine on camera, but a combination of his attitude and his acute lack of musical flair put paid to any shot he had at making it. We had to refuse.’

I’m amazed. ‘How did he take it?’

‘Badly. Let’s put it this way: when I called him up to break the news, he told me his father was going to pay me a visit and blow off my kneecaps with a sawn-off shotgun.’

I gasp. ‘He didn’t!’

‘He did. It was like
The Godfather
– simply ridiculous. Not to mention Evan was about thirty at the time, so I don’t quite know what Daddy had to do with it.’

‘What happened then?’

‘We hired Don,’ says Loaf. ‘And Two Shay made it big. But I wasn’t around to reap any of it.’ He grimaces. ‘Those boys were like sons to me – it broke my heart to let them go.’

I gesture for more. ‘I mean what happened with Evan?’

‘The last I spoke to him, he told me to …’ He lifts his chin, appealing to some higher power. ‘“Expect it when you least expect it.”’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘It was supposed to make me fear for my safety, my reputation, everything I’d strived for – and it did. Because Evan took it upon himself to wreak his own brand of revenge.’ Loaf shakes his head, smiles grimly. ‘He just couldn’t get over the rejection, couldn’t understand why he hadn’t been chosen: he was moneyed, from good stock, had the credentials – if not the talent. But that wasn’t what Two Shay was about.’

‘It wasn’t?’

Loaf shakes his head. ‘No. Two Shay was about
real people
, just like you and me. You never heard the lyrics to “Man2Man”?’

‘
We won the race with mud on our face; we made the sound though we grew from the ground
?’

‘Exactly.’ He nods. ‘But that’s beside the point. Evan embarked on a dedicated hate campaign against me: it was subtle but lethal. Never mind the shotgun threat – by the end I’d have given anything for a couple of mangled legs. No,’ he
chokes, ‘instead he ruined me from the inside, using the contacts he had all across the industry. He broke into my office, copied my diary, my Filofax, my portfolio – he told clients and agents ahead of meetings that I no longer wished to represent them, that I didn’t feel they could bring me the cash I required and so they were no good to me any more – people I’d spent years building relationships with. He sent me hate mail. He told anyone who’d listen, powerful people, influential people, that I was going mad, I was losing it, that I was having a nervous breakdown. And do you know what the worst bit is? I started to believe him. Because when I tried to get the authorities involved, Evan and his family were always there first. No one believed me. I wasn’t eating. I wasn’t sleeping. I wasn’t working. Everything I did, he sabotaged. Every lifeline blew up in my face. Each time I thought I was making progress, he’d strike and I’d be right back at square one.’

‘Two steps forward, three steps back,’ I murmur.

Loaf nods. ‘Paula Abdul. But in this case, opposites definitely
didn’t
attract.’

‘You poor thing.’ I still can’t believe it. Evan? Two Shay? I had no idea …

Mum and Dad must know. Of course they do! They never bailed out on him like everyone else did – because they’re not like that
.

‘And the next thing I know, Evan’s charmed these people, these circles’ – he’s seething now – ‘the very contacts I’d spent
years
earning through hard work and sleepless nights and endless deadlines, and then all of a sudden he’s got a blossoming career in TV and everyone’s licking his feet. So then he begins his hate campaign in that field, too. And
everyone
believes Evan
Bergman because that’s how he is.’ Loaf laughs drily. ‘He’ll make you believe anything. He’ll have an idea and make you think
you
thought of it!’

‘That’s why you haven’t been into the club?’

‘You’ve got to be careful – I know what he’s like. He doesn’t give up. He’s evil. And he’s got all the pieces in play at Pineapple, believe me.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘You’d better get with the programme, then – because it’s already got with you. Listen to me, Maddie: Evan Bergman might have a glittering TV career but all he’s ever wanted is to be on stage. He would have pitted himself against your parents. At the time Two Shay were formed – and he wasn’t a part of it – Pineapple Mist was storming the charts. Evan attempted to tour the circuit for a while himself, under the name Poison Bergamot and the Dice’ – he lowers his voice – ‘until one especially embarrassing performance put an end to that.’

‘Of course!’ My hands fly to my face. ‘I’ve heard of them! I’m sure they used to appear at holiday camps when I was growing up!’

‘Very probably. Which means he would have performed not far from Rick and Sapphy – but of course he’d never have experienced anything like the success they achieved.’ Here he looks at me meaningfully, and at last realisation hits me in the face like a cold slap.

‘My god. You think this is all about some personal vendetta?’

‘I wouldn’t be surprised.’ Loaf takes my hand. ‘I think as soon as you walked into his office that day he knew he’d hit the jackpot.’

‘He wants to sabotage my parents, too?’

What have I done?

‘All I’m saying is that your Nick Craven might not be too far from the mark. Whatever Evan’s got planned a week from now, I can guarantee it’s not going to be pretty.’

Ruby du Jour glides into Pineapple late Wednesday afternoon. Just the sight of her lifts everyone’s mood – it’s been ages since we’ve had a sparkly Ruby in our mist.

‘Gorgeous dress,’ I say, taking in her floor-length emeraldgreen gown with sequin neckline. ‘What’s the occasion?’

‘Well, honeys,’ Ruby purrs, sliding on to one of the bar stools and crossing one long leg over the other, ‘it’s about time we all stopped walking around with faces like death. I don’t care who Evan Bergman is – or once was – there are more of us than him and this is
our
club.’

Jaz helps her to a drink. ‘You got that right.’

‘When Maddie called a meeting today, I knew there had to be a plan.’ She takes a sip. ‘So what is it?’

Everybody turns to me, their faces expectant. ‘I’m hoping there won’t be need for a plan,’ I say. ‘But if Evan so much as tries anything, I’m beating him to it. One thing we have over him right now is knowledge. I’ve got enough dirt on that bloke to sink him for good.’

Jaz claps her hands with glee, an orchestra of colourful knuckle-dusters jangling on impact. ‘Go, Maddie!’

Ruby frowns, the lapse in frivolity making way for Rob to emerge. ‘Meaning what, exactly?’

I feel sick to the stomach at the thought of taking to that stage, but I don’t tell them that. I’m their manager and it’s my job to sort this out. If Evan’s got something public planned then it’s bound to involve him getting up in front of the nation – he’s too much of a showman, I now know – and all I have to do is keep a close eye on him, gather my strength and have the guts to challenge him head-on. I’m keeping everything crossable crossed that it won’t come to that. Everything.

‘Meaning we’ve got all the stuff we need right here for a full-on defensive,’ I say. ‘Mics, a stage—’

‘A soundtrack!’ exclaims Jaz. ‘How about “I Owe You Nothing”?’

‘Hmm.’

‘But you’re terrified of that sort of thing,’ says Ruby.

‘What, Bros?’

‘No,’ she flaps her hands, ‘the whole shebang. Stages, public speaking,
microphones
…’

‘Tell me about it.’ I see Jaz open her mouth. ‘Don’t
actually
tell me about it.’

‘She’s more terrified of what Evan might do,’ Simon chips in. He raises an eyebrow. ‘Right? Personally I reckon you should set the record straight anyway. Get up there first and rumble him once and for all on national TV – that’ll show the world what he’s been up to.’

‘And come across like a total paranoid nutcase, pushed to the brink by an exposure I can’t handle? No, thanks.’ I shake my head. ‘It would be just typical of Evan to want to make some ironic statement about the modern-day media breaking people like me down. Fuck it, maybe that’s what he wants.’

‘But what about all the stuff he’s done?’ Simon presses. ‘Maybe, you know, there’ll be people watching who want to know the truth …?’