‘Drink, drink, old boy. Really terrific show. There’s the beginning of something here, or the old nose for success has got its sinuses blocked.’ Walter Proud’s bonhomous arm was flung round his shoulders. ‘Sid. Sid.’ The producer waved at the barman. ‘What’s it to be, Charles?’
‘Large Bell’s, please.’
‘Of course, of course. Should have remembered. That’s a large Bell’s, Sid, and my usual, a large gin with. .’ But the barman’s attention was elsewhere. ‘Look, I think I was first. Excuse me, Charles, I must just. .’ Walter dived into the melee.
‘Not bad. Thank you.’ Charles turned to see Lennie Barber behind him and took the brusque words as a great compliment. The comedian was not given to sycophancy.
‘I’m very grateful to you for all your help, Lennie. As I said, it’s a completely new field for me. I’ve found it fascinating. And may I say how marvellous I thought you were with Alexander Harvey. And in the sketch. . really great.’ Oh dear, is there nothing that one performer can say to another that doesn’t sound insincere?
‘He’s nothing, that Harvey, after you’ve played a second house in Liverpool.’
The subject of their conversation approached with a smile sculpted onto his face and a hand outstretched. ‘Lovely show. Delighted with it. I hope I set them all up for you all right,’ he added jocularly, as if his discomfiture had been part of a subtle master plan.
Lennie Barber looked at Alexander Harvey seriously before replying. Then, as if he had thought it out in some detail, he said, ‘You weren’t that good actually, lad. Tell you what, you do three or four years round the clubs and you might turn into a reasonable feed.’
A visible effort of will kept the smile in place on the face of the country’s most popular chat-show host. While he searched his mental quiver for a barb with sufficient poison on it to use in reply, he was interrupted by the arrival behind him of a neat forty-year-old man in a grey suit.
‘Very nice show, Alex,’ congratulated the newcomer. ‘Thought it went very well.’
‘Oh thanks,’ said a rather deflated Alexander Harvey.
At that moment Walter Proud bustled up with Charles’ Bell’s and his own gin. He greeted the man in the grey suit effusively. ‘Nigel, great to see you. How goes it?’
‘Fine, fine,’ said the man in the grey suit.
‘You haven’t got a drink. What is it? Still the Campari?’
‘That’d be very nice, thank you.’
‘What about you, Alex? Lennie? Actually, Nigel, when I’ve got the drinks, I’d like to bend your ear for a moment about a couple of ideas.’
‘Fine, line.’ The man grinned vaguely as Walter disappeared into the bar scrum, then turned sharply to Alexander Harvey. ‘Who is that?’
‘Walter Proud. Used to be at the BBC.’
‘Oh yes, I’ve met him somewhere. He’s not with us at the moment, is he?’
‘Yes, three months’ contract. Meant to be coming up with ideas. Tonight was one of his.’ Alexander Harvey grimaced.
‘I see. I’ve got to go and talk to Paul over there. Excuse me.’ The man in the grey suit flicked Charles and Barber a professional smile and moved away with Alexander Harvey in tow.
Charles looked at the comedian quizzically. ‘He’s Nigel Frisch, Director of Programmes here and one very important person.’
Walter emerged from the scrum of drinks. ‘Oh, where did they go to?’ He handed a very large Scotch to Barber, who pointed to the other side of the bar. ‘I’ll take the drinks over. You know, Lennie, I’m really excited by what happened tonight. I think we’re on to something. I think we can get a show going, built round the old Barber and Pole routines — I mean, not just old stuff, get in some young writers, you know, give it a bit of edge, kind of revue format — we’d be on to a winner. It wouldn’t be just the nostalgia appeal, though that’s there. I reckon if you can present the public with a package that’s got nostalgia and is modem at the same time, then you’ve got to be on to a winner. Lennie Barber, I think you could be on the verge of the biggest comeback there ever was. Well, what do you say?’
Lennie Barber shrugged without changing his expression. ‘I say “Oh yeah?”’
‘Yeah. Certainly.’
‘Show me the contract and I might believe you.’
‘Well, at least sound a bit excited about it.’
‘If I got excited every time I heard a producer say I was on the verge of a comeback, I’d have dropped dead years ago. Once you’ve been an overnight success more than a couple of dozen times the novelty wears off.’
‘This time it’s for real. This one’s going to be big.’
‘Yeah, sure.’ Barber spoke as to a child. ‘You go and take those drinks over to your important friends.’ As Walter moved away, the comedian downed his Scotch in a single gulp.
‘Get you another one, Lennie?’
‘No, Charles. I haven’t got the cash with me to buy you one.’
‘Well, I can get it now, or lend you the money or — ’
‘Don’t like being in debt, sorry. No, I’ll go and join that little group over there round the director. Since I’m going to appear on the bugger’s expense claim whether he buys me a drink or not, I think he can get me one.’
Charles stood alone and drank. His mind kept coming back to Janine Bentley. Pretty girl. Long golden hair. Not an intelligent face, but a sweet one. Appealing, childish really. Where was she?
‘Look, I do want to talk about the series potential in this thing, Charles old man.’ It was Walter back again. Nigel Frisch and Alexander Harvey had only required him as a waiter for their drinks and had not volunteered to include him in their conversation. Charles’ mind was not on series potential. ‘Walter, you know that show at Hunstanton. .?’
‘Yes.’
‘You saw it a few times, I gather?’
‘Yes.’ Walter looked at him blankly.
‘Did you meet one of the dancers called Janine?’
The producer’s look changed from blankness to slight suspicion. ‘Yes, I met her.’
‘Apparently she was having an affair with Bill Peaky.’
‘Yes, or he was with her, whichever way you like to put it. So what? Do you disapprove?’
‘No, no. It’s just. . I don’t know, they’re supposed to have had a quarrel on the afternoon he died.’
‘Yes, somebody mentioned that. She was serious about him; he wasn’t about her. Apparently Janine had been in touch with Peaky’s wife and told her what was going on, imagining, I think, that the wife would give up her claims and allow the course of true love to run smooth.’
‘Really. And that’s what annoyed Peaky?’
‘I gather so. It’d annoy most men. I’d have been pretty damned annoyed if any of my little bits on the side had told Angela.’ Somehow the sexual bravado in his tone didn’t carry conviction.
‘Hmm. Do you know what Peaky’s relationship with his wife was?’
‘Well, they were married. Sorry, being facetious. I don’t know. I think OK, but Bill used to put it about a bit.’
‘So I heard. Incidentally, Walter, do you know Peaky’s wife — widow, I should say?’
‘I’ve met her. Carla. Pretty girl. Lives out towards Epping Forest somewhere. Wouldn’t say I know her really.’ Walter Proud drained his gin reflectively. ‘Pity about Bill Peaky. Really talented boy. I thought I’d get some kind of show going there. Still, it’s an ill wind. If I hadn’t gone to Hunstanton to see him, I wouldn’t have made contact with old Lennie Barber again and tonight wouldn’t have happened.’
Gerald Venables, who had been ensconced in a corner of the bar with the head of the television company’s contract department, offered to drive Charles home. ‘So where do you go now, big boy?’ he asked as the Mercedes purred along.
‘I reckon finding Janine is still the first priority.’
‘Cherchez la femme.’
‘But since the trail seems to have gone cold there at the moment, I think I might cherchez the family instead for a bit.’