The Birthday Party (45 page)

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Authors: Veronica Henry

BOOK: The Birthday Party
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Justine sat down at the table on her own. She felt self-conscious and unsure of herself. This wasn’t really her world at all.
Sure, she could enjoy it as a member of the audience, but she had felt foolish in the dressing room. A spare part. She ordered
a drink from a passing waiter. Maybe that would take the edge off her insecurity.

Soon, the Tinderbox was packed to the rafters. Violet had chosen it for the debut performance of her own material as the audience
here were so loyal. She wanted to feel as if she was amongst friends, even though there would be some people there who would
judge her harshly, because that was their job. Violet appeared on stage, bathed in a single spotlight. She had chosen a velvet
dress in scarlet, slashed to the thigh, and she looked astonishing. Like a star. Justine felt her heart burst with pride as
Violet stepped up to the microphone. And her eyes filled with tears as she began to sing.

The audience gave her a standing ovation. She wasn’t allowed off the stage. Four times she came back for an encore, smiling
bashfully, embarrassed but obviously gratified. And when she
eventually left the stage, and the lights were dimmed, Justine fought her way through the chattering crowds to get to the
dressing room to congratulate her.

And there she found Violet in Sammy’s arms, kissing him as if the world was going to end tomorrow. And when Violet realised
she was watching, and ran after her, Justine stopped in the corridor and turned with a smile.

‘It’s OK,’ she told her. ‘It’s probably the best thing that could have happened. It’s my wake-up call that this was never
going to be for ever …’

‘Justine … honestly … it was just … I don’t know. You go into this weird space when you perform together. It’s not like I
… me and Sammy aren’t—’

‘Hey,’ said Justine. ‘It’s not a problem. Honestly.’

She wasn’t going to break down. She wasn’t going to show how she really felt. She had too much pride.

‘Don’t go,’ pleaded Violet. ‘Wait for me. I won’t be long. We need to talk about this.’

Justine shook her head. ‘I was thinking already … I’m going to go to Berlin.’ She managed a smile. ‘It’s what I should do.
For me. And you’ve got so much stuff going on. Then maybe, if we decide … one day …’

Violet picked up her hand and stroked it.

‘I love you,’ she said. ‘I love you and I love having you around. But the truth is I’m not going to be much fun to be around
for a while. It’s not fair to expect you to support me unconditionally through all this. I’m obsessional. Selfish. A total
bloody diva.’

She looked deep into her eyes.

‘But I’ll still be here when you get back.’

The two of them embraced, holding each other tighter than tight. Justine breathed in Violet’s scent and kissed her for the
last time.

‘I love you,’ she whispered in her ear.

Then she turned and walked away.

Violet watched her lover go, with mixed feelings: sadness,
relief, regret. Guilt – of course. Most of all, she was grateful that Justine had made the decision. Maybe it was entirely
selfish, but at this stage in her life, her career was what mattered to her. She had reached a turning-point, and she didn’t
want her future jeopardised by a relationship she wasn’t sure about. She loved Justine, of course she did, but all along she
had harboured the guilty suspicion that she was just toying with her, that she wasn’t giving Justine the commitment she craved.
And although she would happily have gone along with things as they were, it was far better to have a clean break. That way
nobody got hurt.

She turned and walked back into the dressing room. Sammy was packing away his double bass. It was hard to believe that a few
minutes ago they had been kissing passionately, both high on the performance, exhilarated by what had gone between them on
the stage. But that was all. There was nothing else.

‘Catch you soon,’ said Sammy, slinging his instrument onto his back.

‘Catch you soon,’ echoed Violet. And as the dressing room became empty, she suddenly felt as if all the light had drained
out of her life.

On Monday morning, Justine walked into the Amador offices in Knightsbridge. Her father was behind his desk. He looked up,
surprised to see her in her trademark navy blue shift dress and high heels, her hair tied back in a sleek ponytail.

‘If you haven’t found anyone else yet for Berlin, I’d like to go,’ she announced.

He pushed back his chair and surveyed her. Should he press her for an explanation? He was fairly certain she wouldn’t give
him one. Instead he indicated a file on the table in front of him.

‘The final contract’s right here. We get the keys next Monday. You better go and get yourself packed.’

Justine smiled, and turned to walk back down the corridor to her office. She scrolled through net-a-porter and picked out
some outfits she thought would be suitable for the next few months. She booked in with Alex to have her hair cut and coloured.
And then she Googled Violet to read the reviews of last night’s gig.

‘Electrifying …’ ‘Heart-breaking and soul-baring …’ ‘A star in the making …’

There were tears in her eyes as she read. A mixture of pride and sorrow filled her heart. But Justine never wanted to force
someone to love her. She didn’t want to live like her father, consumed with jealousy. She wiped away her tears and picked
up the phone to her secretary.

‘Book me a ticket to Berlin for Monday. First class. One way.’

Thirty-Two

L
ouis had never actually learned to drive. Ever since he’d had enough money to buy a car he’d always been driven everywhere
he went. So it was Tyger who had to take the wheel of the battered Jeep Cherokee he had borrowed from one of his roadies.
Her pink Nissan Figaro was too noticeable to be driven on their mission through deepest, darkest Wales.

They had a plan. They were going to load up as many of the dogs and puppies as they could from Bernie’s, with help from some
of the guys from the rescue centre where Tyger had got Doug the Pug. She had spoken to her contact there, and made a plan
to meet up under cover of darkness, once Louis had managed to get hold of the keys and was certain the coast was clear. She
had made absolutely sure that the mission was confidential.

‘You don’t ask me any questions about where they’ve come from, and you don’t tell the press that I’m involved,’ she had instructed
her contact, and they had agreed, promising her total anonymity and no reprisals.

‘I give them enough publicity. And plenty of donations,’ she assured Louis. ‘It’s not worth their while to betray me. Besides,
they’re good people.’

The two of them were silent on the journey down. Louis had impressed upon Tyger how dangerous this plan was. Bernie wasn’t
a man to be messed with. But he agreed with her they had no choice. She wouldn’t countenance leaving the animals there to
suffer, and reporting them to the RSPCA would
inevitably involve trouble for his mother. So it was up to them to trust Tyger’s contacts.

Only now they were on the road, Louis was nervous. He wasn’t sure if it was the way Tyger threw the Jeep around the roads,
but he felt sick.

‘This isn’t some Famous Five escapade,’ he told her. ‘It could all go badly wrong.’

‘It’s not going to go wrong,’ she said, keeping her eyes firmly on the road. She didn’t admit that she was going to have to
stop again at the next motorway services and throw up. She looked at her watch. It was mid-afternoon. They were going to wait
until dark before moving in on the farm. Not just so that they had cover of darkness, but because Bernie would be half-drunk
by then, his reactions would be slower, he would be easier to fool.

Louis also felt sick at the thought of seeing his mother again. Had he let her down by running away like that? What was she
going to say when she saw him? Would she be happy he had made contact after all those years? He couldn’t deny that the outcome
he was hoping for was Melinda throwing her arms around him with joy, but he was fairly sure that wasn’t going to happen, so
he pretended to himself that the best he could hope for was an icy amnesty.

Eventually they turned off the motorway and started driving through the countryside. It was hot inside the cab of the car.
The water they’d brought with them was warm, the sandwiches had dried and curled up long ago. Not that either of them were
interested in food. Louis reached over and squeezed Tyger’s arm. She gave him the briefest of smiles. Neither of them needed
to say anything. They just wanted it all to be over.

At half past five they pulled over into a gateway and tried to nap. They hadn’t slept well the night before, even though they’d
tried to go to bed early. They needed to be alert. But it was even more impossible to sleep now, with the adrenalin coursing
through them.

‘Shall we stop at a pub, get something to eat?’

Louis shook his head.

‘We can’t risk being recognised.’

‘What, in the back of beyond? Do they even have telly out here?’

Louis thumped her good-naturedly. ‘You’d be surprised.’

‘You’re right, though. Especially after Coco last week.’

They had studiously avoided looking at each other during Tony’s recent pep talk. They knew this was exactly the sort of caper
he was warning against. But his salutary warning wasn’t going to stop them.

Tyger put her legs up on the dashboard, one either side of the steering wheel. Her baseball cap was pulled down low over her
eyes. With her skinny jeans, her biker boots and her white singlet, she looked like some crazy American rebel chick about
to rob a dime-store. Louis could just imagine her pulling a Colt 45 out of the glove-box.

He shifted in his seat and looked at the clock. It would be a while before the sun even thought about going down. He fiddled
with the radio.

‘Turn it off,’ said Tyger irritably. ‘It’s doing my head in.’

At last the sun began to sink in the sky, and it turned pink, then purple, then blue. Tyger started up the van again, and
followed his directions. Acid burned in his stomach as they drove through the village where he’d been to school. He had nothing
but unhappy memories, he realised. Not a single friend. No one had ever contacted him through his website and said, ‘Hey,
mate – weren’t we at school together?’ No one had ever taken the time to get to know him.

It doesn’t matter, he told himself. You’ve got Tyger now, the greatest friend you’ll ever have.

Then suddenly, they were there. At the bottom of the drive that led to the farm. He could see the lights on from the road.

‘We’ve got to drive past, and go up the dirt track by the next
field and round, so we come up to the back of the farm buildings. If we go up the main drive, Bernie will see the car.’

He had drawn a diagram of the layout for her, so she knew exactly how the land lay. Once they were in situ, once they had
the keys and were happy that Bernie was stuck in for the night, they would phone the guys from the rescue centre, who’d be
waiting in the pub car park, and give them directions.

‘If anything goes wrong, if you think it’s going to kick off, just get back in the car and drive. Doesn’t matter if you leave
the dogs behind. Your safety is the most important thing.’

Tyger nodded.

Louis suddenly panicked. What the hell was he doing, putting Tyger through this? He should have got some proper muscle in,
not a couple of weedy volunteers from the dogs’ home. Shit, he had enough money – he could pay people to keep quiet and do
his dirty work. But he knew from experience that people always wanted more. He could trust Tyger.

And nothing was going to go wrong.

The Jeep bounced along the ill-kept track. Tyger killed the lights, just in case, and they peered through the gloom until
they came up behind the compound. They parked behind a clump of trees, so the car would be obscured.

They got out. Now the sun had gone, it was chilly, and Tyger shivered in her singlet.

‘OK?’ asked Louis, and she nodded. Neither of them felt much like talking.

They made their way quietly towards the house, then crept round the back.

‘Right – here’s the downstairs toilet window. Wait here. I’ll drop the keys out as soon as I can. It’ll probably take a while.’

‘What if you don’t get them?’

‘I’ll get them. Then wait for me and we’ll call the others when we’re sure the coast is clear. Bernie’s usually comatose by
about ten.’

They hugged, and Louis held her as tight as he could,
pouring his courage into her. She was so fucking brave. How was he ever going to repay her?

Then he was gone. Tyger crouched down on the ground by the toilet window, wishing she had brought a sweatshirt. Wishing, in
fact, that she was anywhere, anywhere, but here.

Louis pressed on the front doorbell. It didn’t work. Some things didn’t change. He knocked loudly on the frosted glass instead.

He waited a few moments, then saw light flood into the hall as the lounge door opened. He could hear the thunder of the telly:
The Lottery – he recognised the presenter’s overexcited babble, and the audience’s applause. A shadowy figure approached.
Louis swallowed.

The door opened.

‘Bernie?’ said Louis, with an awkward smile.

Bernie frowned. As well he might. Louis was eight years older than when he had left, several inches taller, considerably broader.
A man, not a boy.

‘Dave,’ he prompted him helpfully.

‘Well, shit the bed!’ said Bernie, charming as ever. ‘Melinda! Someone for you.’

He turned on his heel and walked back into the lounge, without asking Louis in. And a moment later his mother stood in front
of him.

‘Oh my God,’ she whispered. ‘Little Dave.’

‘Hey,’ he managed to croak in reply.

She looked terrible. Twenty years older than the eight since he’d last seen her. Her hair was grey, almost white. Her skin
was lined, blotchy. Her eyes had sunk into her head. She was wearing too-tight leggings and a sleeveless yellow blouse, her
feet stuffed into slippers.

‘My baby.’ She stared at him dully. Her eyes were blinking rapidly and she was swallowing repeatedly. Suddenly she put her
hands up to her face and started to gasp for breath. She was having a panic attack, he realised.

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